Machiavelli, rain, nuance or "The first time I saw you, I...." or use a sex toy.
In the next episode of Dallas in Wonderland, after finding himself shrunk to the size of a small boy, Dallas sees a hippie. What's going on there? Read the story and find out! Then check with the other Wednesday Briefers, whose links follow.
Dallas in Wonderland #15
Dallas did a double take. A small wooden boat floated toward him, decorated with bright yellow daisies and pink and purple suns. At first Dallas assumed its strange skipper propelled the vessel by means of an oar, but he held none, neither did Dallas see one dipping into the water. When he glanced where the motor should have been, the back of the boat was devoid of that as well.
Dallas turned his attention back to the hippie. Electric green dreads danced about his head—literally. The locks twined together as if performing a strange mating ritual, before releasing and reforming in new configurations. He was dressed in a yellow and orange tie-dyed T-shirt, and matching bell bottoms. A large glass hookah sat between his legs; connected to a hose he held in one hand. The other contained a bright red object. The closer he drew, the more Dallas stared curiously at it, wondering what it was. By the time he made out the object’s familiar shape, he felt himself blush.
“What is your pleasure?” the hippie asked, turning a smile on Dallas so bright, it was downright dazzling.
“This is the Love Boat, little man, and I can give you anything your heart desires. Just make a wish, and it shall be yours.”
“Who are you?” Dallas blurted out, ignoring the “little man” comment and focusing on the hookah, rather than what some of his single female friends jokingly referred to as their battery operated boyfriend. Not that he was a prude in regard to sex toys or anything, but at the moment, his thoughts were straying too close to Dr. Levi, and looking at the dildo only reminded him how badly he wanted to feel Samuel’s own personal sex toy in his flesh.
The boat bumped against the shore and stopped. Instantly, the hippie hopped up and gracefully leapt onto the ground by Dallas. “I’m Harry Kat. You must be Dallas.” He held out one hand, and Dallas accepted it.
“Wait a minute,” he said, releasing the hand quickly. “How do you know my name?”
“Everyone in Wonderland knows who you are, dude. Everyone.”
Dallas could see now that the hookah actually hung by a leather strap about the hippie’s neck; he carried it like a child. He placed the tip between his lips and inhaled. Pink and blue smoke issued from his ears, forming a small cloud about his head. “What’s your pleasure, little man,” he repeated, sliding the dildo into a back pocket which Dallas could have sworn didn’t exist. But one moment it was in his hand, the next it wasn’t. He proceeded to pull out red and green capsules, which he held out to Dallas, displayed on his palm, along with a little tag that read, “Take me.”
Dallas wasn’t going to necessarily accept that invitation any time soon. On the other hand, he did have one particular wish—to go back to being his own size again. He glanced down at his miniaturized body, then at Harry Kat.
“Can you make me my proper size?”
The hippie grinned. He flipped his hand over and then back; the pills had disappeared. Now a large blue mushroom sat on his palm. Dallas had never seen one in that shade before, certainly not on the Food Network. In fact, he’d thought that, other than blueberries, blue food didn’t exist.
“Here, little man, take this.”
“I can’t,” he protested, “I have nothing—“
“Don’t need nothing,” Harry Kat interrupted. “Don’t think twice, it’s all right.” He held out the mushroom persistently, and Dallas took it, albeit reluctantly.
“What does it do?”
The hippie began to back towards the boat, grinning widely. “One side makes you taller, the other makes you small…”
Perfect, but which was which?
Dallas examined the blue fungus carefully. There was no delineation, one side from the other. They looked identical to him. He flipped it over. Nothing there either, other than the back of the mushroom. He glanced up at Harry. He was sitting in his boat, contentedly inhaling, exhaling purple rivulets into the air.
“Which side is which?” Dallas asked, but the boat was already sliding back into the strawberry water, headed downstream. Dallas followed its course along the riverbank, calling out, “Which side? Which side?” But to no avail. The current must have grown stronger, for the boat picked up speed, and before Dallas knew what had happened, it was just a colorful blur in the distance. The last glimpse he had of the hippie was a hand raised in the air, two fingers split in a peace sign, a final farewell.
What to do, what to do, what to do.
Dallas walked slowly back to where he’d been, hoping perhaps the artists had returned and maybe they could offer him a bit of advice, but alas, the palettes were as lifeless as they were before. And no sign of Samuel either. Damn.
Logically speaking, the odds were fifty-fifty that if he chose a side at random and nibbled at it, it would be the correct side. The question was: did he like those odds?
Not really, but he really disliked being the height he currently was, so what choice did he have?
Reluctantly he brought the mushroom up to his lips, so close that he could see the various shades of blue that colored the surface of the mushroom. The edge was lighter than the rest, but unfortunately there was nothing to give him a sign which part to eat first.
Okay, here goes nothing.
He took a dainty nibble. It was surprisingly moist, and not at all day. And very flavorful. The first bite was sweet, t the second savory. This was tastier than he’d expected. Addictive ,even. Then came a spicy bit, with a touch of citrus…
He stopped eating suddenly and looked about him. Where had these huge green trees come from?
His eyes grew wide. Dammit, those weren’t trees, they were blades of grass!
to be continued
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