“Okay,” Red replied. “You might want to get over there quick. The volcano is a cake on a timer. It’s supposed to erupt on the table to signal cake and ice cream time.”
Great. Why did these things happen to him? As he headed for the Raptor pen, the cowboy kid followed him, riding his not-real dinosaur.
“Why’d ya come to me?” Ryden asked.
“Because you look the most like a cowboy. And those other bros probably wouldn’t fit in the dino pen.”
Ryden wasn’t sure how to take that, so it was probably best he not respond. They reached the “Raptor pen,” a plastic fort-like structure created to look like a metal fence with fake barbed wire and caution signs. What was the point of having a Raptor pen if it didn’t look authentic? At least they hadn’t electrified it, though Ryden would have liked to see that.
Inside the pen, two kids dressed like they were on safari sat in the grass, and sure enough, the volcano cake, on its rocky terrain base, was angled between them.
“I’m gonna need that back,” Ryden said.
The kids eyed him.
“He has a taser and he’s not afraid to use it,” the kid on the hobby horse said, oh so helpfully. “I saw him do it.”
The two kids scrambled to their feet before Ryden could say a word and sped out of there like actual Raptors were chasing them. Great. Now he’d have to deal with parents who thought Ryden had threatened to taser their kids and had possibly already done so.
“That was not helpful,” Ryden grumbled as he carefully picked up the volcano and headed out of the pen.
The kid rolled his eyes. “It worked, didn’t it?” He wrinkled his nose. “I’d taser them.”
“Oh, I bet ya would.” Ryden carried the volcano toward the snack table when something beeped. He stopped. “What was that?”
The kid’s eyes widened, and he took off. What the hell?
Ryden tapped his earpiece. “Red, did anyone say when this thing was set to go off?” He hurried toward the table when the top of the volcano erupted, shooting a giant cloud of red edible glitter into his face. “Never mind.”
This time, his so-called friends and coworkers didn’t bother to hold in their laughter. Ryden shook his head, red glitter raining down with every move. He leisurely walked to the table and placed the volcano down gently. Sure. Why not? He turned when something squawked overhead.
“What the…?” Ryden lifted his head, and a drone resembling a Pterodactyl swooped low, dropping a payload of foam darts onto his head. He glared up as it circled again. “I swear to God, if that thing—” A second payload of confetti poured down on him. He put a hand out. They were shaped like the word ‘roar’. He would have blamed Ace, except Ace wasn’t working this gig.
The kids cheered and ran circles around him, Nerf guns in the air. With a sigh, Ryden tapped his earpiece. “I’m goin’ to the bathroom to get this stuff off. One of you needs to arrange security for Jay, because if ya don’t, I’m gonna murder him.” He headed toward the house when a relatively robust older womanblocked his path. Wonderful. Cordelia Rusticucci. The woman was one tight-curled hairdo away from being a villainous, Regency-era matriarch.
“And where do you think you’re going?”
Did she not see the obvious? Ryden pointed to his face. “To wash this off.”
“Not in the house, you’re not,” Cordelia huffed. “There’s a sink in the gardener’s shed.”
Ryden forced a smile. “Of course.” He made to go around her when she blocked his path. Again.Fuck my life. What now?
“What’s wrong with your eye?”
“Oh, I was injured during a trainin’ exercise years ago.” Ryden was used to the stares and questions about his eye. When it first happened, he’d been self-conscious about it, even covered it up, but that was before he accepted it as a part of who he was and no longer cared what anyone thought. It was what it was.
“Well, it’s ghastly.”
Like your manners.
“Cordelia.” Angelica Rusticucci, dressed in a stunning, form-fitting white pantsuit, stopped beside them, her deep frown on her mother-in-law. “The man is a veteran. Show some respect.”
Cordelia huffed. “Well, it is. They shouldn’t have put him out here with the children. What if it frightens them?”
Ryden arched an eyebrow. The only thing these kids were scared of was having their allowances taken away, and maybe having to eat broccoli. Did Cordelia forget that the children she spoke of were ten- to thirteen-year-old boys? The ones who didn’t find it gross yet awesome thought it was the most badass thing ever. When they were done grilling him for details, they took off and continued wreaking havoc.
“Why don’t you see if your other son needs a fourth Scotch?” Angelica hissed.
