Step Right Up! Step Right Up!

Darkness… An endless void mixed with swirls and shapes impossible to make out.

Sound… All-encompassing and nonexistent, bathing everything in its dreadful promises.

A figure… A spec in the distance, yet their breath is warm on my skin. Comforting. Tempting.

Their lips move in speech. I struggle to understand their words as the drums get louder.

“… Wha-…… Do… Sa-… Early…”

I concentrate. Focus. What are they saying?

“WAAYY-HAAYY UP SHE RISES! WAAY-HAYY UP SHE RISES!! WAYY-HAAY UP SHE RISES! EARLY IN THE MORNING!!”

My eyes shoot open, fueled by panic and adrenaline I launch myself out of bed, get tangled in my blankets, and collapse in a heap on the floor as my alarm clock continues to inform me of all the things to do with a drunken sailor.

I grumble an “Ow” and a few curses as I disentangle myself from this tool of cruel and unusual punishment known as a blanket. It must be in cahoots with my pillow, I knew it couldn’t be trusted. I will have to take my vengeance later. After finally succeeding in escape in a dignified and refined manner, the lack of witnesses will attest to that, I shut my alarm off and look at the time. Questioning my life decisions up to this point as I do so.

8:01 AM. A brief moment of weakness allows a thought of aggravation at the early deadline Sam set before I smack myself to banish it. I’d have agreed to eight if she had said so. Heck, even seven. Six would be pushing it though and I’d have voiced some complaints before begrudgingly agreeing. I got to have some boundaries.

Nonsensical thought trains aside, I can’t help a dopey grin from spreading across my face. I’m about to go to the fair with Sam. One of my dreams are about to come true… Dreams… Why is that lingering with me? Oh well, I have more important things to focus on right now. Like getting ready for a day of fun! With that, I set to the task at hand. Getting dressed in my usual T-shirt, a nice brightly colored tie dyed one, and cargo pants. Yes, I’m aware it’s the middle of summer, don’t judge me.

After brushing my teeth, I look at myself in the mirror. Specifically, the large bandage on my forehead. I hate the thought of it being there for my possibly hot date. But it’s only a two-day old injury, and a nasty one at that if Melina’s panic and the blood soaked paper towels she used are anything to go by. At the very least, I should probably change out the bandage. Maybe replace it with a smaller one if I can. I get out my humble first aid supplies and wince as I rip the old bandage off. Bits of my hair had gotten caught to it, so it came off with only a bit of pain. I look back in the mirror to assess the damage and see… Nothing. No wound. No scab. Not even a scar. My forehead looks as though it had never been bleeding profusely only two short days ago. I’m no stranger to injuries, they come with the territory of fixing things, so I know for a fact I don’t normally heal that quickly or effectively. There’s a scar on my thumb from when I sliced it open one time when fixing a friend’s car. That had taken weeks to fully heal and left an obvious mark of the injury. Granted, I never actually saw my head wound, it might not have been all that bad. Just bloody. Head wounds are like that from what I hear. Honestly though, I can dance around it all I want, but there’s no denying that weird super endurance granting demon kiss might have boosted my healing factor. I’ll have to ask Maddy about it when I have the time. For now though, I’ll just take the win of not needing the bandage for my day with Sam.

After sorting all that out, I go about getting breakfast and nervously pacing around my apartment to complete the ritual of preparing myself. I distinctly avoid opening Sam’s profile on the app or opening the app at all. I don’t want to ruin the surprise or soil the experience. I just want to enjoy the day with Sam without involving the succubae or their magic. At least, no more than what’s already there. I can’t turn most of it off anyway. I’m sure it’ll be fine. I just need to focus on having a good time and not on how I’m going on a maybe date with my extremely hot, fun and friendly neighbor that I’ve had a crush on for a while that’s completely out of my league and oh god what if I say something stupid and she gets offended and-.

Slap!

Get it together man! You’ve had plenty of opportunities to say stupid things to her so far and it’s been fine! It’s just the pre-game time jitters! No backing out now! You got this! You’ve only got… 2 more minutes of suspense then what happens will happen… Wait… 2 minutes?!?! Time to go!

I quickly put on my shoes and exit my apartment. Crossing the distance between our domiciles in a few anxious/giddy strides. I smooth out my shirt for the umpteenth time, and then knock. Her door opens a moment later, and the sight of her takes my breath away.

Her usual workout tank top and yoga pants are gone, replaced by a simple and fun sunny yellow summer dress extending down to her knees. Small white flowers are speckled across the flowy skirt as thin shoulder straps hold the dress up. Enough cleavage showing to promise the treasures within without giving anything away for free. A leather belt clasped with a cute metal buckle of a sunflower going across her waist. Her usual practical ponytail is also nowhere to be seen; the luscious locks instead freely roll down behind her shoulders in silky, straight yet flowy waves. Kept out of her face by an equally adorable butterfly headband. A matching small yellow purse draped across one shoulder and comfortable looking sandals complete her ensemble. But what really ties the whole thing together, is her radiant smile and shining emerald eyes looking back at me. The sight makes my heart flutter and my brain cease all function. Luckily, my mouth is very used to working without my brain’s input.

“I suddenly feel very underdressed.” I say dumbly.

“Gee, I wonder why that is Captain Cargo pants.” Sam says teasingly.

“Tis a mystery for the ages. You really do look great though. I’m trying desperately to not do the loony toons wolf howl.” I say, unable to tear my bugged-out eyes gaze from her.

“Darn! I want to see that now. I’ll have to try harder next time. I don’t wear stuff like this often, it’s fun to when the opportunity arises.” She says with mirth in her voice.

“And here I thought the only clothes in your possession were for exercising.” I prod.

“Hey! I can be girly when I want to be!” She says with a pout.

“Evidently.” I chuckle as she walks through the doorway, closing and locking it behind her.

“Shall we?” She asks.

Next time. Next time she said. The day hasn’t even started yet and she’s already saying next time. My arms seem to have a mind of their own as they raise themselves in invitation. One that Sam quickly accepts, embracing me in a quick yet firm hug. I can’t stop myself from taking a quick sniff of her recently shampooed hair, hints of mint I notice. Not wanting to overstay my welcome, I pull away, cursing myself inwardly as I do so, and say,

“Let’s shall!”

With that, we begin our trek to the fairgrounds. It’s thankfully not too far, just to another park section on the other side of town opposite the park we visited last time. It’s less distance than our runs have been, so the walk is no problem for either of us. We walk in companionable, yet anxious silence for the first few minutes. I’m not sure how much nervousness Sam is contributing, but I know I sure as hell am bringing enough to the table for the both of us. Steeling my nerves, I attempt to break the tension that at least one of us is feeling.

“You ever been to one of these fairs before?” I ask.

“Not one like this, no. I’ve been to a wine festival before, and the community college I went to had something sort of similar, albeit smaller. Their biggest attractions were a mechanical bull and one of those inflatable obstacle courses where you and a friend race to the top. I won, by the way.” She said, smug pride pouring from her as she did, but her lips quirk into a playful smirk all the same.

“The bull or the obstacle course?” I ask, my own lips copying hers.

“Both. Obviously.” she answers, adding a bit more sashay into her walk and a hair flip in an attempt at mock superiority. I just chuckle at her antics and say,

“Of course, how foolish of me to question. You are the Cardio Queen, after all.”

“And don’t you forget it!” she says as she points a finger at me. We both giggle.

“What about you? This your first time too?”

“Yep. The closest thing to this I’ve been to is a renaissance fair, that was a lot of fun. Same story as yours though, it was small compared to others I’ve heard about.”

“I’ve always wanted to go to one of those! Did you dress up?” She asks excitedly.

“I managed to get a decent pirate get up together, yeah.” I answer.

“Ooooh~ You’ll have to show me sometime. I bet you were quite the dashing rogue. Were the cargo pants part of it?”

My blush at the compliment is quickly overtaken by a scowl at the jab to my beloved leg wear as I glare back at her in over the top irritation until she starts to giggle and say, “mock the cargo pants all you want, the day will come when you require the sanctity of its holy pockets.”

“Jeez, I hope not. Holey pockets sound destined to fail.” She responds without missing a beat.

“I-… God dangit!” I exclaim, much the Sam's amusement. “You win this round, Cardio Queen.” I say in an overly serious tone, promising vengeance. She responds by sticking her tongue out at me.

The rest of the journey went on like that. Us walking practically hand in hand as we comfortably conversed with each other about random things while throwing shade and snark at each other. Past experiences, friends, interests, things of that nature. I’m so engaged in our conversation; I almost miss her having a Marylin Monroe skirt moment. Almost miss. I got a short glimpse of some orange panties, but nothing more. The people walking behind her got a much better view though much to her oblivious chagrin. I don’t know what it is about her, I’m normally full of nothing but nerves and impending doom when talking to girls I fancy. But with Sam, she’s easy to talk to, and puts me at ease. I can only hope I do something similar for her. I hope to tell her that, but not yet. I feel it’s too soon for those kinds of words. We’ll see where the day takes us.

Speaking of, it has taken us to the fair entrance. A line extends from a small wooden ticket booth flanked by an open gate and fencing. A large group of people mill about inside amidst a conglomeration of vendor tents, food trucks, varieties of games and structures promising fun rides and more I can’t see without venturing within. We take our place in line and wait our turn. I offer to buy both tickets, trying not to insist too hard but hoping she lets me. I owe it to her after all. She only relents after I agree to her buying lunch.

With tickets purchased, we head inside the thoroughfare.

“What shall we hit first?” I ask, scanning through our options. There are vendor tents and food stalls/trucks a plenty, as well as a good number of “test your skill” style game booths with various prizes for the winners scattered around the place. A stage with a full speaker and camera system is set up off to the far side, the little brochure the ticket booth attendant gave me details the times for various performances. Apparently including a local band later on. The structures I got hints of earlier are a collection of small amusement park rides including a Ferris wheel, the spinning chair swing ride, a merry-go-round and even a…

“I got it.” I say, a smile creeping onto my face.

“What?” Sam asks.

“How do you feel about defending your title?” I ask as I point.

“Which title?” she asks, shifting her gaze to follow my finger. Once she sees it, she smirks at me and says, “Oh you are so on!” before striding purposefully forward. I follow a step behind toward the mechanical bull.

I’m not sure if the thought of riding the mechanical beast in her cute and flowy summer dress didn’t occur to her as… Problematic, shall we say. Possibly due to a certain app. Or if the challenge was worth the risk in her eyes because I watch as she excitedly climbs aboard the currently motionless bucking robot without a care in the world. The beast itself is quite a sight to see. It obviously resembles a classic bull, but more from cartoons with the overly defined and bulging musculature than the more natural specimens. Emphasizing the more cartoonish feel to it is the burgundy red paint job, complete with a few tribal tattoos, bejeweled nose ring, and impressive horns with what look like Celtic knots carved into them. Its angry eyes even glow red! Someone obviously put some effort into the construction. A large inflatable pool surrounds El Toro Loco, as the sign next to the ride declares it to be known as, like a cage to keep people back and to offer safe landing to bucked off riders. Contrasting harshly with the angry, demonic looking beast of mechanical rage, Sam is nothing but smiles as she mounts up in her sunshine and flowers dress. The ride operator goes through the proper riding protocols with her before Sam gives the thumbs up to begin. I, and a good number of people waiting in line or being audience to the spectacle, watch as the bull slowly powers to life.

It starts with a simple buck to make sure Sam has a proper grip, before spinning a rotation and bucking again. Sam holds fast as the mechanized beast picks up speed, laughing all the while. It bucks and twirls this way and that, moving with designed precision to throw its rider off. But Sam continues to hold on despite her dress, even going so far as to raise one hand in the air for a few moments, soliciting a cheer of encouragement from the crowd. Egged on by her brazenness and the crowd’s enthusiasm, the operator hits something on the controls, and I swear to you, literal steam shoots out of El Toro's nostrils as a train whistle sounds, and it picks up more speed and power. The crowd cheers even louder as it Bucks wildly and spins with everything its impressive hydraulics can muster. But still, Sam holds on.

She slides to each side as the beast spins, bounces up and down as it bucks, her smile never leaving her face. But, with inevitable certainty, her grip begins to falter. I expected the spinning to be what threw her off, how far down she slid on either side while it did so is a testament to the momentum it generates from the motion. But no, that’s not how she was thrown from the raging El Toro Loco. I was right there. I saw it happen. Many people did. But I would bet anything that not a single one of us could explain the how’s of what threw Sam from the ride.

After a particularly vengeful twirl, causing Sam to dip low to one side, she hauled herself back on the saddle. As she did this, El Toro jumped on the moment of weakness and combo’d into an extremely deep and powerful buck. The perfect timing of the move caused the already precariously positioned Sam to be launched upward. But thanks to her yet to fail grip on the handhold, only her lower body was sent into the air, causing her to pendulum up and fall forward over El Toro's head. My blood went cold for a second as I watched her nearly collide with the sharp looking horns that I only just now noticed probably aren’t the safest, but thankfully she was thrown clear of them. The most perplexing part however, is how the ever loving hell her panties got snagged on one horn and removed from her body. Leaving them to dangle on the weapon of pointed naughtiness, without ripping her dress, the panties, or Sam at all! It happened so fast; I doubt anyone got a good look. I certainly didn’t. I just stare at the lost undergarment in dumbfounded wonder as Sam bounces back to her feet, raising her arms above her head in triumph to a cheering crowd. With her back to the panty thief, she’s left completely oblivious to her loss as she strides over to me.

“Alright tough guy, beat that!” she exclaims, pointing to a large timer off to the side displaying 17.3 seconds. A very impressive time indeed. I swallow and respond.

“Let’s see how far of a run I can give your money.”

With that, I approach the ride. The operator goes through the same safety and proper riding instructions as he did for Sam, although I quickly grab and pocket Sam's panties before they’re lost forever, or she finally notices them dangling there. With that, I give the thumbs up to begin.

Much like Sam’s ride, El Toro Loco starts off easy, slowly gaining speed and building up power. I do fine for the most part, my long and gangly legs helping keep me anchored or spring up and back down with the bucks. I even manage to fully stand up for a few seconds, much to the crowds’ amusement. Like I thought, the spinning is the true threat to my balance as I slide on the saddle from the momentum, but I manage to hold on. The bull then unleashes a torrent of steam once more from its nostrils accompanied by the train whistle blow, as it engages hard mode. I hear Sam and some of the crowd whoop and holler in encouragement at the development. I grit my teeth and reaffirm my grip as the violent thrashes increase. El Toro Loco bucks and spins with a ferocity only an angry bull can manifest as I hold on for dear life, hoping that improved grip strength is part of the succubus blessing package.

Almost as if in response, El Toro Loco bucks harshly multiple times, throwing off my positioning, and then quickly jerks into another twirl. I fail to recover in time and am thrown sideways off the demon bull, sliding along the inflatable floor until I hit the wall. Looking up, I see Sam standing over and looking down at me.

“You alright?” she asks, a smirk on her face telling me she already knows the answer.

“Oh yeah, just peachy. Don’t feel like a discarded sack of potatoes at all. How’d I do?” I ask.

“15.8 seconds. Not bad, but a far cry from dethroning me.” She says with unhidden amusement.

“Dangit. You win this round Cardio Queen, but know the war is far from over.” I say with a grunt as I stand back up. Before the next in line mounts up, the operator walks over to us. A heavier set man with very broad shoulders, a handlebar mustache, and a wide brimmed cowboy hat. Not surprising, considering the ride he operates.

“Mighty fine riding! The both of yas!” He says in a bombastic voice tinged with a southern twang, “Ya both lasted longer than 15 seconds! A claim El Toro Loco don’t give out easy! Take these as yer prize!”

He hands us both some wooden tokens good for a discount on any order from a “Momma Cass’ Bayou BBQ” food truck. We thank him as he returns to his post.

“You like barbeque?” I ask Sam.

“I burn too many calories to not appreciate pork.” She responds.

“Sounds like we got a plan for lunch then. Where to next?”

“Let me thiiiiiink…”

We begin to wander through the thoroughfare, stopping at every ride or stand that interests us. We ride the spinning chair swing, Sam either not worried about or not realizing the consequence of her dress blowing in the wind as she rode. The people watching realize and appreciate it though. We test our might on one of those “Ring the bell by swinging this mallet really hard” strength challenges in a Godzilla theme, oddly enough. Sam got an impressive “Biollante”, a little over halfway up just below Gigan. I manage to beat her with a Mecha Godzilla Mark 2, just under the three-quarter mark where Space Godzilla lies. I attribute my win to my height advantage, which I proceed to inform Sam of.

“You see, it’s simple physics. The mallet travels farther from my perch and thus, gains more momentum.”

“Yeah yeah, keep talking ya bean pole.” Sam snidely remarks.

“What’s that? You’ll have to speak up, I can’t hear you from way down there.” I continue to goad.

“I am above average height for women! Thank you very much!”

“And yet I still look down on you.”

“Keep pushing bud, I have a hacksaw and willingness. Don’t make me take you down to my level!”

“Ah ha! So you admit your inferior stature!”

“Oh my gaaawwwd!”

We both laugh at our snarky antics while continuing our good sport competition with more carnival games. A water gun shooting gallery is our next stop where we both manage to win a small stuffed animal, an orange kitty cat for Sam and a cute sea dragon for me. Next is a ring toss that is absolutely rigged and impossible to win. Then a face painter that gave Sam a butterfly on one cheek and a sleeping kitten on the other, I got an octopus and a badger.

“Why a badger?” Sam asks.

“They are the ultimate killing machines. Full of nothing but spite and malice.” I respond gravely.

“You’re just butt hurt at the ring toss.”

“IT WAS RIGGED! THE RING LANDED SQUARE ON THE BOTTLE NECK AND IMPOSSIBLY BOUNCED OFF! YOU SAW IT!”

“Maybe that's why it bounced off. They're rings, not squares.”

“I WILL HAVE MY VENGEANCE!”

“I’m sure they will rue the day they ever heard the name Tyler Hawkins.”

“It is only a matter of time.” I say, grinning wickedly.

“Well, while you’re plotting your dastardly deed, I’m going to visit the little girl’s room. Be right back.” Sam says.

“Sounds good, I’ll wait here.”

Sam walks off to do her business as I wait, scanning around me to pass the time. Today has been awesome so far, I couldn’t have asked for a better outcome. I wouldn’t change a thing rigged ring toss excluded, with the app or otherwise.

“ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS RIGHT NOW?!?!” A familiar voice screams.

Well… I might consider changing one thing.

I look toward the cussing banshee known as Amelia and see her rocking a strapless white tank top with a rainbow across the chest that says “**** Metal” along with her mini denim skirt she seems to favor. She’s apparently standing with another tired looking girl a bit shorter than her but with really long platinum blonde hair tied in pigtails that dangle down to her waist wearing thick framed glasses and a midnight black frilly, almost Victorian style dress, complete with corset, that apparently has bright multicolored polka dots covering it. It’s almost as if a stereotypical Lolita goth girl and a cliché uber bubbly cheerleader girl combined into one fashion statement. I really don’t know what to make of her. How is she not baking in this summer sun while wearing that heavy looking black dress? I guess that rainbow polka dot parasol she’s got is helping, what century is she trying to be from? Is she cosplaying or something? Is that from an anime? I’m broken from my confusion by Amelia continuing to scream cuss at a poor shop vendor.

“TEN FUCKING DOLLARS FOR A FUCKING BOTTLE WITH STUPID AS FUCK GLITTER IN IT? ARE YOU RUNNING A FUCKING SCAM YOU GOD DAMN SCAMMER!!” Amelia screeches out.

“Please stop yelling miss, if you’re unhappy with the price, you don’t have to buy it.” The shop owner attempts.

“YOU FUCKING DARE TELL ME WHAT I CAN AND CAN’T DO?!? YOU SHITSTAIN!! I’LL-“

I’m sure there was more to her tirade, but she got cut off suddenly when a stroke of app enforced karmic justice is violently enacted upon her. Off to the side, a rather large, muscular man had stepped up to the Godzilla High Striker and proceeded to enforce all of his might into it. The mallet struck the lever with enough **** to shake the whole structure, sending the metal projectile skyward like a rocket. It impacted the bell, causing a powerful gong and Godzilla roar to resonate, but that wasn’t all. The **** of the collision was too much for the bell, freeing it from the structure entirely and sending the bell itself flying before physics took its’ course and brought the hunk of curved metal back down to earth. Coincidentally, right where Amelia was standing. The wayward bell impacted directly on Amelia's’ skull, ringing her own bell as it were, before falling to the ground. Amelia on the other hand, ceased her rant as she went cross eyed and started to sway. The only thing missing are some stars spinning around her head. Her motor functions falter as she stumbles away. It’s not a straight shot, more of a winding crisscrossed pathing, but she still somehow finds her way right to the swinging chair ride while it’s spinning, much to her misfortune.

An empty chair catches her in the stomach, whisking her away and into the air with her legs flailing, leaving her sandals behind. The ride spins her once, twice, three times before whatever grip the chair had on her slips, sending her flying through the air like a catapulted trojan rabbit directly for the water gun shooting gallery. She falls without style past the line of guns and with mighty “Fwoomph!” impacts into the wall of prizes, right where the “Grand Prize” was sitting. A giant stuffed teddy bear. Amelia landed headfirst into the bear, piercing its’ belly but leaving her lower half dangling outside. As her luck would have it, a contestant took his final shot just as she landed, earning him the Grand Prize. He and his buddies cheer as the winner walks over to collect his hard-fought winnings. The game operator looks to the winner, then to the stuck and **** Amelia in her precarious position, shrugs, and extends his hand out to the winner to enjoy. The crowd looks on in unhidden appreciation as he walks forward and lowers his zipper. The line for that game fills up very quickly after that. I just look on completely dumbfounded.

How the hell did she go from slipping on a banana peel to the Rube Goldberg of a slapstick act that just happened? And how the hell will she not be harmed from that? Does she operate off of cartoon physics now? She was literally thrown through the air! This has to be pushing the app to its’ limits, I know everyone is supposed to look on in however much appreciation and desire that suits them, but no one even batted an eye to the multiple safety violation consequences that just unfolded! How can-

“Hey.”

I jump at the sudden tired sounding; monotone voice addressing me and look down at the odd fashion statement girl that was with Amelia before her accident staring directly up at me. She’s rather short. Now that she’s closer, her sun deprived looking albino skin is more evident. As are her hair ties, one having a rainbow emblem, the other an animal skull. Her face looks mostly devoid of make-up minus the black lip stick on her lower lip and white on the upper.

“Uuuhh, hi?” I say. She doesn’t respond immediately. Just continuing to stare at me as she blows a bubble with the gum she’s chewing. I start to get uncomfortable at her piercing gaze despite being through half lidded eyes and large, thick rimmed glasses as the bubble pops. Like she’s taking my measure to some extent.

“Can I help you?” I ask warily. She takes her time gathering her popped gum and responds,

“That your doing?” she says, tilting her head towards Amelia.

I freeze. A cold sense of impending dread creeps up my spine. She knows. How does she know? The app is supposed to make it impossible to know! And how did she single me out as the culprit? We’re in the middle of a large crowd!

Ok.

Calm down.

Play it cool, she doesn’t have any evidence against you. Just play dumb and hopefully she’ll go away.

“What are you-“

“You’re the only one not gawking at my friends’ peculiar misfortune with lust.” She states matter-of-factly, “So how’d you do it?”

Panic begins to rise in me.

“I don’t-“

“Not that I’m against it. The bitch could use some karma, and its’ entertaining. But she’s still my friend.” She interrupts.

My panic gets replaced with confusion. This girl somehow managed to not be affected by whatever the app does to keep people from noticing its’ shenanigans, pick me out in a crowd as the most likely suspect, but she’s also ok with it? What the hell is with this girl?

“I-“

“Looks like your lady friend is coming back. I need to go anyway. See ya.” She says abruptly as she turns and walks away.

…… WAT……

“Who was that? Friend of yours?” Sam asks as she rejoins me. I continue to stare off after the strange girl as I say,

“I have no idea.”

“What’d she say to you? You look like your whole world has just been turned upside down.”

“I… Have no idea.”

“Wow, she really did a number on you. How about we go get food, that’ll help.”

“Yeah… Food sounds good.”

“Great! I’m starving!” Sam exclaims as she grabs my hand and drags me towards the food trucks. The touch pulls me out of my shock, back to the present, and towards a food truck decked out in Mardi Gras beads with a sign reading “Mamma Cass’ Bayou BBQ” atop it. A very large woman, and I don’t mean large as in overweight, I mean it as every aspect of this woman is exceptionally large. Size, height, smile, energy… curves… everything. Black frizzy hair tied back with a bandana covering it, chocolate skin, wearing a grease-stained apron and a beaming smile. She looks down at us from inside her food truck and says,

“Well shoo, ain’t ya just da cutest lil gingersnap I ever did see! Whatchya name lil-un?” The woman I can only assume to be Momma Cass asks Sam.

“I’m Sam!” the owner of the name responds.

“Ain’t ya dawlin! And who’s dis strapping string bean you got wit you? My lordy boy, ya came to da right place ta git some meat on ya bones!”

“Hehe, yeah I’ve been called that before. I’m Tyler.” I respond with a little wave, unable to be anything but entertained by the woman’s energetic friendliness.

“Well ain’t ya’ll just the nicest folks! What can Mamma Cass git for ya? Pick whatever ya want, it’s all finger lickin’ good!”

We place our orders of two heaping helpings of honey barbeque sandwiches alongside coleslaw and water. We both hand her our El Toro Loco tokens, and her eyes and smile widen.

“Ya’ll lasted fi-teen seconds on El Toro Loco? Shooo, cute and capable, ya’ll just the whole package ain’t ya? Less see if we can fill those bellies of yas.” Momma Cass exclaims.

We are given our food and make our way over to a free table where we dig in. My paranoia forces my mind to wander back to the weird girl on occasion, but the deliciousness of the meal, along with the moans of appreciation coming from Sam keep my thoughts from lingering. We settle into a comfortable silence as we eat, the food taking priority over any conversation we might have, mostly.

“Where to next?” I ask after finishing the last bite of my sandwich.

“I’m thinking we hit up some of those vendors while our food settles. My god that was so good.” Sam responds, rubbing her belly in appreciation.

“Agreed. Burp. Scuze me. I can get behind that plan. Fair warning though, I will be buying you something.” I say.

“Only if I buy you something.” She responds.

“Nah, that’s not how this works.” I contradict.

“Of course it is! I say so, so it is.” she declares.

“Your declaration is denied.” I counter.

“Well your denial is rejected!” she parries.

“Your rejection is refused.” I block.

“Your refusal is negated!” she strikes.

“Your negation is invalidated.” I bob and weave.

“Your invalidation is expired!” she floats like a butterfly.

“Your expiration is dismissed.” I sting like a bee.

“Your dismissal is discarded!” she feints.

“Your discarding is blacklisted.” I pounce.

“Your blacklisting is refused!” she lunges.

“Ah! Ah! I already used refuse.” I go for the kill.

“No you didn’t!” she desperately clings to life.

“Yes I did! It was one of the first ones!” I sink the knife in further.

“Nu-uh!” she desperately grabs at victory from the jaws of defeat.

“You can’t nu-uh your way out of defeat!” I villain monologue.

“Yes I can. I just did.” she sucker punches.

“Nu-uh!” I recoil.

“Ah! Ah! I already did that one. You lose.” she says in victory as she sticks her tongue out at me.

“…… God dangit.” I slump as she giggles at me.

We both begin laughing at our antics as we clean up our trash and make our way to the vendor tents. There’s a bunch of different art, jewelry, specialty crafts, and even candle vendors. We take the better part of an hour meandering through each one, browsing and reacting to anything that strikes our fancy and chatting with a couple of the vendors. Sam buys herself a very well-done pencil drawing of a cat flying on a witch’s broom in front of the moon. I get myself a small glass bottle necklace with some blue glitter in it, just to spite Amelia. We each buy a couple other cool nick knacks as well as some handmade mugs for each other. Hers has a cat tail coiling around it, mine has a tentacle doing the same.

Happy with our purchases, we continue on until Sam stops us in front of another tent, this one with a door flap advertising tarot card readings.

“I’ve always wanted to do one of these!” She exclaims before handing me her bag of purchased swag, “Let’s both do it! I’ll go first.”

“Uuuuh, sure! Go for it.” I say.

She bounces happily and goes inside to learn her fortune while I wait just outside. I can hear murmurs from within, but I can’t make out anything being said. I let my gaze wander across my surroundings, looking back to the tents we visited previously, and the stage that looks to be setting up for that musical performance the brochure advertised. I then spot another familiar face and suddenly remember where I heard about this fair. Melina is standing at another booth that looks like a miniature coffee shop. Her and a couple co-workers are selling a variety of drinks and pastries, although Melina’s job is clearly different from the others. Her normal uniform looks to have been modified, and by that I mean the only thing preserving her breasts’ modesty is the top of her frilly apron. But even then, the straps look to have been replaced by some other kind of material which quickly becomes evident as a customer orders something from her. Melina nods happily, grabs an empty cup and pulls the front of her apron down, the elastic straps allowing the action and exposing her prodigious bust to the customer. She then positions the cup under one breast and squeezes the gland, liquid quickly squirting out of her exposed nutmeg colored nipple. Once full, she puts her apron back in place and hands the cup to the customer who gratefully accepts it.

Gee, she certainly wasn’t kidding about her participation here. I’ll have to go over and say hi. Maybe order a drink. Don’t judge me. I do wonder what Sam will think of that whole situation. Speaking of Sam, she finally emerges from the tent, a mischievous smile on her face.

“Should I be worried what that look is for?” I ask.

“Probably.” She responds, “Your turn!”

“Alright, alright I’m going.” I say as I pass over the swag bags and head inside the dark tent. Incense burns off to the side with little star lights twinkling from the ceiling. A small round table sits at the center, a figure clad in a deep purple robe with the hood obscuring their head and face sits on the opposite side to me. I take a seat and say,

“Hi there, so how’s this work?”

“It all starts with a question. What is the question you wish to know?” The figure says in a clearly feminine voice that sounds like she’s trying way too hard to make it a lot deeper and more mysterious than it naturally is while also trying to mimic a… I’m going to say Russian accent? Whatever it is, it’s not good. “Is it a question of your future? Hardships you may face? Or perhaps, your love life?”

Thinking back to the weird girl from earlier, I say, “I’m perfectly happy to keep the future where it is and find out. Knowing about possible hardships sounds good.”

“Too bad, we’re talking about your love life.” She responds curtly.

“Wait what? Why give me the option then?” I ask, slightly taken aback.

“Because you’re supposed to pick the obvious answer you dumb dumb.” She spits as she starts placing some cards in front of her. The fool, the Hierophant, and the seven of cups. But I barely take note of the cards, I don’t really know what they mean anyway, instead focusing on her hands. Deep purple skin with slightly glowing cyan tattoos.

“Wait a minute… Maddy?!?” I ask incredulously. She quickly and violently shushes me before throwing her hood back and whisper yelling in her normal voice,

“You trying to let your little exhibitionist know I’m here or what?”

“What are you even doing here?!” I whisper yell back.

“Helping you get some action! Duh! Beelzebub knows you need it.” She whispers back haughtily.

“Wait what? How?”

“I spouted some nonsense to that vixen of yours about her desires being within her grasp or something. I didn’t take much note.”

“You- Do you even know how to do tarot card readings? Is this even your tent?”

“Of course not! I have much more important things to do than learn some fancy card nonsense.”

“Whose tent is this then?”

“Enough of your useless questions!” She snaps, “Just wait here for another minute or so then leave with a contemplative look on your face and be all mysterious about what I told you. She’ll be putty in your hands.”

“I’m going to ignore that for now, I actually did have some things to ask you but one in particular takes priority.”

“What did I just say about your useless questions?!”

“This is serious Maddy! I ran into someone earlier that wasn’t affected by the app! She saw through the altered perception thing!”

“That’s impossible. You’re obviously mistaken. My program is perfect.”

“And I’ve broken your perfect program how many times so far?!” I snap.

She pauses at that, sitting there in silence for a minute before very, very begrudgingly accepting the point.

“So your proposing there is a second defiler?” She asks, most of her haughtiness drained from her.

“I don’t know if I broke it again regarding her, she broke it, or she’s just not affected by it. But she very blatantly acted as though she saw right through it.” I explain.

“Hhhhmmmm… This is concerning. I will return and sift through the latest bug reports. If she is unaffected by my beloved program, it means she’s resistant to succubus magic which will make spying on her difficult. I will see what I can do. Farewell!” Maddy exclaims.

“Wait! Don’t leave yet! I have-“ I try but am cut off by her standing up and throwing a smoke bomb in one quick motion. It impacts the ground and explodes with a soft pop, filling the tent with pink smoke. I cough and wave my hand trying to dissipate the smoke as light from the back of the tent pours in for a second before being cut off. Great. She extended her exit strategy to tents as well.

“More cough!... questions… cough.” I finish lamely before sighing. Every time with this girl. I stand up and exit the tent, an expectant Sam waiting for me.

“Soooo? How’d it go?” She asks.

“It was certainly… Unique!” I state.

“Hah! Yours too? I think it takes a certain personality to do that kind of thing.”

“I believe it.” I say as we walk away. I give a glance back to see another woman dressed in a very witch like robe walk over to the tarot card reading tent, flip a sign that said, “Out to Lunch” over to “The Witch is in”. I just shake my head.

“You wanna get a drink? My favorite tea and coffee shop has a booth over there and I told a friend of mine I’d say hi.” I ask.

“Sounds good to me!” Sam responds. We proceed to walk over to where I saw Melina earlier, past a camera crew that look to be finalizing their setup for the musical performance. Melina finishes with a customer before looking our way, recognition on her face as she spots me, and proceeds to bounce her way over to us. Emphasis on the bounce. There is nothing at all substantial keeping those monsters in check. I feel a slight tension from Sam at the sight of Melina for some reason. I hope it has nothing to do with her seeing through the app like the other girl… You know I just had the thought; how did I get so surrounded by hot girls? When did this happen? I’ve never been this lucky or popular.

“Tyler! You made it!” Melina proclaims excitedly, pulling me from my thoughts.

“I did! Glad to see your booth is doing well.” I respond encouragingly.

“Yeah! My boss loved my new trick and said I should use it here! Everyone seems to like it!” She says, her continued excitement palpable. I try to keep a straight face at the mention of her “trick” and say,

“That’s awesome!” I turn to Sam, “This is Melina, the friend I mentioned. She’s the one that patched me up after I wacked my noggin. Melina, this is Sam, my neighbor.”

“Hello!” Sam says. Melina finally notices her and seems to freeze for a second.

“You’re… his neighbor.” Melina says, much more reservedly than before. A brief moment of awkward silence passes before Melina shakes out of whatever it is that was bothering her and adopts her usual cheery smile before continuing like normal, “So you’re the one he keeps helping out?” she asks.

“Don’t say that when he can hear! His head might swell and get hit again.” Sam responds playfully.

“Heeey!” I say indignantly, much to both girls’ amusement.

“I want to say I recognize you… Were you in Professor Hankery’s Writing class?” Sam asks.

“Oh my gosh! I was thinking the same thing! You wrote the story about the kitty! That was so cute! I wasn’t in your peer review group and was mad about it.” Melina gushes.

The two of them continue chatting back and forth but I get distracted as the crowd in front of the stage begins to cheer. I look over and see the band is onstage and about to play. The camera crew a few feet away from us videoing the performance as it displays the show on a few screens throughout the fair for everyone to see. I’m about to refocus my attention back to the conversation in front of me when I notice the violinist of the band is that weird girl from before that saw through the app still dressed in her clashing attire. Once the cheering dies down, the band begins to play some kind of Irish polka, one that you can’t help but want to dance too. Which some of the audience proceed to do. Definitely not the kind of music I would have guessed she played. The weird girl’s face still looks tired, but also laser focused and serious as she masterfully plays her bow across her violin strings, making them sing in delightful harmony to the beat.

I’m so distracted by the performance; I don’t notice the stuffed bear stumbling by until it crosses my line of sight. After doing a double take, I realize it’s only the head of a stuffed bear. Which is currently being worn as a sort of impromptu face covering for who I can only assume to be Amelia. Can she even see in that thing? Or breath? She’s a bit more… Disheveled now. Her shirt is completely drenched and see through, failing to conceal her lack of bra and perky tits with stiff nipples poking out from the cold water, her denim skirt is hiked up around her waist like a belt and exposing her bare cum stained bum and neatly trimmed nether region also dripping man juice. I briefly wonder where her panties are, until I see them fallen most of the way down her legs forcing her awkward shambling. She’s preventing them from sliding the rest of the way down by keeping her legs splayed and duck walking. I then briefly wonder why she doesn’t just pull them back up until I see her hands are constrained behind her back with five Chinese finger traps locking all her fingers together.

The camera crew and I just stare dumbfounded at her as she slowly makes her way by us in her blind, meandering progression. I’m pulled from my gawking by a piercing bark as a familiar orange blur runs by, catching a stray cord from the camera in his stride, yanking it taught and toppling the tripod over. Determination undeterred, the speeding corgi races past leaving the expensive piece of technology in his dust and charges right for the bear headed girl. He runs in between her legs, grabbing her stretched out panties in his mouth and rushes past. The delicate elastic snaps from one leg but holds strong onto the other as the crazy pooch continues to pull. The blind and startled Amelia can’t react in time and just lets her still caught leg be pulled as she hops along behind on her remaining foot. Muffled cussing coming from the bear face as she is sort of dragged away and out of my sight.

I have… So, so many questions but am cursed with not having anyone to ask them to. I shake my head and try to rejoin the conversation between Sam and Melina but am distracted by something else. The camera the stampeding puppy knocked over is lying on the ground right next to me, pointing straight up. Coincidentally, Sam is also standing right next to me. Directly over the camera. I question the physics of how it didn’t hit her when I look back to one of the screens and see it displaying a perfectly clear and high definition shot of Sam’s upskirt, pantyless and bald pussy. Her dress, it seems, has betrayed her once again. The hundreds comprising the audience of each screen cheer in appreciation, much to Sam and the band’s oblivious chagrin, as the hoard of people enjoy the intimate view of Sam’s not-so-private area.

The series of probability defying events leaves me standing there in perplexed contemplation. How is this my life now? Just last week the only worries I had were getting to work on time and what to cook for dinner, broken up by chilling on my computer. A simple and boring life, true, but distinctly less mad. I half expect a white rabbit with an oversized pocket watch to run by screaming about making an appointment on time while an oddly dressed madman goes on about teatime and a queen advocates for the execution of cards.

“So did you guys want anything? I can only do our milk products. My coworkers hand out the other stuff.” Melina’s bubbly voice cuts through my wonderland ramblings with her offer of beverages… Wait… A little furry creature running somewhere as if late… An oddly dressed server of tea… Who would be the quee- Maddy. Maddy is the queen. Obviously. Does that make me the cards? Or Alice? Dear god maybe I have gone mad. If a grinning cat spouting cryptic nonsense or a tobacco puffing alphabet insect shows up, I’m going to start screaming. I give the stuffed kitten in Sam’s swag bag a wary glance before I get my attention back on track and say,

“Of course! Can I have my usual? You want anything Sam?”

“I’ll take an iced Frappuccino.”

“Coming right up!” Melina responds enthusiastically and grabs two cups before lowering the front of her apron to reveal both of her magnificent milk dispensers. She holds the first cup under her right breast and squeezes, squirting out piping hot chai tea latte from her extended nipple until the cup is full. A soft moan escaping her lips as she does. Once done, she hands the cup to me and holds the other under her left breast to repeat the process. She breathes in sharply as the chilled milk coffee pours from her, she softly bites her lip to stifle herself until she once more fills the cup. The magic of one breast being for hot drinks and the other for cold is not lost on me. They even squirted a layer of foam straight from her nipples, how does that work? Or feel? I’m guessing nice if her face is anything to go by. Once complete, Melina reaches into a nearby cooler and pulls out a few ice cubes and drops them into the beverage before handing it to Sam, still beaming her wonderful smile.

“Hope you enjoy! They’re on the house.” Melina proclaims.

“Wait, really? Are you sure? I’ll happily pay.” I say.

“Of course! We’re friends, right? Just don’t go getting hurt again or I’ll be upset.” Melina says, going from **** friendliness to exceptionally stern in an instant.

“That sounds worse than whatever pain I’d be in.” I say, sheepishly. Making both girls giggle again.

We say our goodbyes and make our way over to a good viewing spot for the band as we enjoy our drinks. Sam absentmindedly stepping over the fallen camera, a chorus of disappointed groans emanate from the audience at her movement, but one look at her face tells me she is blissfully unaware at the cause. The camera crew quickly picks the device back up to focus on the purposefully scheduled performance.

“You two seemed to get along well.” I comment happily.

“She’s so sweet and adorable! And that upsets me.” Sam responds. I almost hurt my neck with the amount of whiplash I get hit with as I look to her with a raised eyebrow.

“Wait what? Why?” I say, full of confusion.

“Because now I feel bad for her!” She says with a guilty groan.

“…… Ok, you’re going to have to break that down for me.” I say, even more filled with confusion somehow. Sam looks back at me, her face displaying her own confusion.

“Wait… Do you really not-?... Seriously?!” She says with incredulity.

“Do I not what? What are you on about?” I say, feeling attacked for some reason.

“How do you not-? Wow, that poor girl. Ok. Give me a minute. I knew you were bad at this, but I didn’t think you were that oblivious.” Sam says, oblivious to the irony.

“Well that’s hurtful.” I say.

“And also true… How do I put this?... Did you see how she reacted when you introduced me?” She asks.

“Yeah, like she didn’t expect you to be there.” I say.

“That’s putting it mildly. I’m guessing you never told her you neighbor was a hot girl about your age?”

“Careful there, any more self-deprecation and I’ll get worried.”

“I’ve earned it. Now answer the question.”

“Let me think…” I say as I try to remember my past conversations. “I wanna say I only referred to you as my neighbor, yeah.”

“And you called her your friend and said she’s the one that patched you up?” She continues.

“Yeah, so?”

“Sooooo, would you say that she might like you?”

“I’d like to think so. She did ask me to come see her here and say hi after all.”

“Ok, so how do you think she felt after the guy she specifically asked to come see her shows up with another girl on a date?” she asks, leadingly.

“Waitwaitwaitwait! So this is a date?!” I ask, completely derailed.

“Is it not?” Sam questions with a tinge of worry.

“No- I mean yes! Yes! I just wasn’t sure. I had to tell myself it wasn’t so I wouldn’t overthink myself into an oblivion of nerves.” I ramble before I can stop myself.

“Oh my goooood! I don’t know if I should smack you or pat your head.” Sam says while burying her face in her hand.

“Good luck with that from all the way down there.” I jab. She smacks my arm.

“Hey! ****!” I cry.

“Oh hush, you’ll be fine.” She says, “But back to the question, how do you think she felt after seeing us show up together?”

“Are you suggesting she like likes me?” I ask.

“Thank god! We’re getting somewhere! Yes! That’s exactly what I’m suggesting!”

“That can’t be right. Have you met her? She’s an whimsical little fairy of positivity. There’s no way she doesn’t have a boyfriend. Or at least a line of guys interested in her.”

Especially after everything I’ve done to her with the app, but I omit that part. Sam gives me a knowing look and says,

“There’s a difference between having guys interested in you verses you being interested in them. Trust me. Guys hit on me at the gym all the time, doesn’t mean I reciprocate just because they’re buff. She’s a waitress, I’m sure she goes through the same.” Sam explains.

“Ok, fair point. But that doesn’t automatically mean she’d like me over anyone else.” I argue.

“And here you were accusing me of being self-deprecating.” She sighs.

“I’m just going off of my past experience. You’re the first girl I’ve been on a date with in a while. I’m still on cloud nine that such an awesome, driven, smart, funny, and hot person like you agreed to a date with me in the first place. Even if you are abusive.” I again ramble before I think about it.

Sam looks up at me as the song the band’s playing comes to a close. Other couples in the throws of dance do their own ending flourishes. Some smooth, others not so much. But they tried and look to be having fun regardless.

“Ok. Come on.” Sam declares.

“Uh, ok! Where are we going?” I ask.

“This way.” She states.

“Got it. Sounds like a plan. Following you.”

She leads us back to the section with the few mechanical rides and up to the decent sized Ferris wheel decorated in classic carnival fan fair. Old timey incandescent light bulbs cover the structure with even a few multicolored neon lights framing the wheel and spokes. Each little bucket you sit in is modeled after carnival tents with enough seating in each one for four people. Upbeat carnival music plays from old speakers as the wheel spins. Luckily there’s not much of a line at the moment, so we board the small tent shaped compartment and take our seats right next to each other, without much wait and are soon carried smoothly into the air. Sam and I clasping hands as we rise. I hope to anything that cares that my hand isn’t sweaty.

“You should give yourself more credit.” Sam states abruptly. “Sure, you’re about the most awkward person I know and hopelessly oblivious.”

“Thanks? I think?” I respond appreciatively?

“Let me finish. Despite that, or probably in part because of it, you don’t give any impression other than being a good guy. Not like the countless creepers me and every other girl out there have had to deal with at one point or another. And what girl worth her salt wouldn’t appreciate that?” Sam explains.

A pang of white-hot guilt stabs me in the gut as I think back to everything I’ve done to Sam, Melina, Ms. Cooper, and even Amelia I guess with the help of the app. Her words both fill me with warm fuzzy joy and searing self-loathing. But I can’t tell her that. I just look back to her, maintaining eye contact as my face burns from emotional turmoil that I’m desperately hoping she interprets as embarrassment. Her eyes slowly close as she leans towards me, mouth slightly open. Even a hopelessly oblivious fool like me can decipher her intentions. I bury my racing thoughts deep down to be gone through later and lean into her. Our lips meet as her arms work their way around my back. I reciprocate and envelop her in a tight embrace, our lips never parting as we both live and revel in each other. The lingering thoughts of doubt and worry fall away as we melt together. They’ll be back again, I’m sure. But for this moment, the only thing that matters is her. The kiss is long, and active, we break away suddenly to come up for air. Both of us panting at the other, our eyes meet again, and we dive back together in loving embrace once more.

We continue like this until we hear a polite grunt. Then two. The third finally registers as being directed at us and we hesitantly break away to look towards the source. The Ferris Wheel operator, a scrawny teenager with pimples bespeckling his face, is staring at us with an awkward and apologetic look as he motions for us to leave the ride for the next anxious couple. We both turn about as red as Sam's hair and quickly vacate our seats with mumbled apologies. Even after departing, we still hold close to each other, I can feel her warmth against me. I promise then and there that I will never loose myself if it would mean giving up on this.