This was getting entirely out of hand. My need for violence was enormous, much like my cock. Decapitating homicidal Fairies was just what I needed.
Lizard patted my back in thanks for looking out for his hookers’ safety. I ignored it, but had to secretly admit that it felt nice.
“We’re too recognizable,” Lizard said, his beady eyes a little wild as he choked up on his bat, ready to rumble. “The minute we walk in, it’s gonna be a problem.”
“He’s right,” Astrid said. “Changing our physical appearance is too risky. It might screw with the spell, but I can change the outfits.”
I quite liked my Prada frock, but my niece was correct. The element of surprise was key. If the Fairy Fuckers saw Satan and the Vampyres’ Chosen One walk in, they’d hightail it out and escape. That wasn’t in the plan tonight. The program included beheading savage assholes, followed by the reveal of my huge member and then a few rounds of snooker. It was a solid game plan.
“Oh! Shit on a stick,” Martha choked out. “Lady Cred is in there. She’s human!”
“Balls,” Jane cried out. “Ain’t no way Cred can live through somethin’ like that!”
I looked at Astrid. She looked at me. It was very clear we were thinking the same thing. I wasn’t so sure old Lady Cred was human at all. I didn’t know what she was, but something was off.
“You think?” I asked.
She shook her head. “Don’t know,” she replied. “I’d sure like to find out, though.”
“Ladies and gent,” Lizard said. “The time to move is now.”
“All good with a new disguise?” Astrid inquired, back to business.
“Do it,” I ordered.
She did.
Lizard was now wearing mom jeans, a flowy pink top and lavender tennis shoes. Astrid topped it off with a blonde wig styled in an unflattering bob. It was truly alarming and it was all I could do not to scream. Lizard was an unattractive man and a heinous-looking woman. To Astrid’s credit, the Demon looked nothing like himself. Lizard gave Astrid a thumbs up and a lopsided grin.
“Hawt!” Jane said with a giggle.
“Smexy,” Martha agreed.
“Next,” Astrid said, waving her hand over her head.
The fashionable Armani suit disappeared and was replaced with baggy gray track pants, a navy Mickey Mouse sweat shirt and white Keds. I didn’t scream aloud, but my internal horror was fully evident on my face. She wasn’t finished. The unflattering baseball cap disappeared and was replaced with an even more unflattering wig. It was dishwater brownish and so shaggy, it covered most of my handsome face. While I understood the whats and whys of what she’d done, it was tremendously traumatizing to see myself like that. I was no longer magnificent. I was just okay, like if Wonder Bread was a person.
“Your turn,” Astrid said, wiggling her fingers in my face.
Gone was the Prada frock with pockets. Gone were the stylish Prada mesh tennis shoes. I was now wearing a beige polyester one piece pantsuit with sensible brown orthopedic shoes. The material was itchy on my skin and beyond fugly.
“Hell, can’t I wear cotton, for fucks sake?” I griped, pulling at the neck of the suit. The saying beware of what you wish for didn’t occur to me until it was too late.
She shrugged and clapped her hands.
She granted my wish and gave me cotton… I was now wearing shit-brown gauchos made of sweat pant material. They were unsightly and woefully out of style. The top, also cotton,was a ribbed beige turtleneck with tiny daisies on it. The gag-worthy kicker were the chocolate brown knee socks and the light-pink running shoes. Of course, I got a wig too. The brown hair, that matched the fucking gauchos, had bangs that grazed my chin. I looked like Cousin It from the Addams Family.
“Really?” I snapped.
“Really,” she replied with a giggle. “Although…”
Astrid conjured up a few bobby pins and arranged the disastrous wig so I could at least see. My face was still covered, but I wasn’t blind.
“Y’all look like America tourists,” Jane commented.
“Perfect,” Astrid said. “One more thing. Uncle Fucker, can you do a little hoo-doo so our power isn’t evident to the enemy?”
It was an excellent request. If we’d gone to all the trouble to look like fashion impaired abominations, it would be a shame if we were recognized by the power of our magic. I snapped my fingers and muted the intensity. We were still as potent as normal, but it didn’t appear that way.
“We ready to kick some ass?” Lizard asked with a devious smirk.
“Born ready,” Astrid said.
“Ditto,” I added. “Shall we get the party started?”
The chorus of yeses was music to my ears. A good smackdown always made me feel better—especially when it was well deserved.
