I stared intently at the former Higher Power who embodied compassion. Was there anything about It that proved to me It was dead? A way of moving? A tone of voice? Since I was unsure of Hemah’s status, I was desperately searching for clues. So far, nothing obvious popped out.
I’d keep trying. Letting Hemah slide out of Shitty Ritchie’s rump without knowing if It was dead or alive was risky as hell.
There was no sign of Hemah… yet.
“Ohhhhh! Lookie!” Shitty Ritchie squealed. “My furniture, TV and cookies are still here!”
He was correct. I was surprised, but Shitty Ritchie’s mind was as weird as he was. Nothing should surprise me.
“WAIT,” the tiny dude yelled. He pulled out the waistband of his pants and shrieked with joy. “My dong! My dong is big again. Glory be to the Universe!”
Jennifer squinted at him. “I’m sorry, what in the heck did you just say, little guy?”
Shitty Ritchie pointed at his crotch. “Shitty Ritchie can make wishes in his mind and they come true! I wished for a big dong last time Daisy and I were here. When I got back to the real world, my weenie was teeny again. But here… here it is GLORIOUS! Do you want to see it?”
Jennifer held up both hands. “Ohhh, gosh no. No can do. But thank you for the offer.”
“Maybe later?” Shitty Ritchie asked, clearly disappointed that no one else was as excited as he was about the nonsense in his underpants.
“Nope. Probably not, friend,” she told him with a smile so kind, the dummy thought he’d won.
Chamuel gaped at Shitty Ritchie as the minute menace skipped in circles while admiring his junk. “He is one-third of the true Higher Power?” It asked, wildly concerned.
“Umm… he is,” I confirmed. “He lived in a cave for millions of years. He’s still acclimating to polite society.”
Chamuel nodded with a skeptical expression on Its face. “That does not seem to be going well.”
“Trust me. He’s way better than he used to be,” I assured It.
It shrugged. “If you say so.”
Jennifer walked over to the couch, sat down and made herself comfortable. “So, what do we do, Daisy? Should we get the party started?”
“Yes! Party!” the little dude shouted, taking her question literally and forgetting all about his junk. “Shitty Ritchie wishes for some red wine and some white wine for my beautiful friend, Jennifer!”
His wish appeared in two expensive looking bottles and materialized right next to the cookies. Jennifer threw her head back and laughed. Shitty Ritchie opened the bottles with his sharp teeth and handed them to his buddy.
“Thank you, Shitty Ritchie,” Jennifer said, taking a healthy swig from the bottle of red. “You’re a good boy, and this is some dang good wine.”
“The good boy has a big dang DONG!” he shrieked before falling onto the couch in a fit of hysterical laughter.
Chamuel walked over to me and tilted Its head in confusion. “As the Death Counselor, this is what you do?” It asked. “Have social gatherings inside the minds of the deceased?”
“Umm… no,” I said with a wince. “Normally, it’s nothing like this. Shitty Ritchie’s mind is not… umm… you know… umm…”
“Not sane?” Chamuel supplied. “Not stable? Unconnected to gray matter, or possibly blood flow?”
I laughed. It was shocking, but Chamuel had a sense of humor. “All of the above,” I confirmed. “But Shitty Ritchie is also loyal, loving and has all of our backs no matter what. While I occasionally enjoy drop kicking the tiny idiot, I would destroy anyone who tried to harm him.”
Chamuel raised a brow and smirked. “Of course… that is unless Shitty Ritchie eats the enemy first.”
“Speaking of…” I glanced around and scanned the area for Hemah. The asshole was still a no show. The situation was heading towards me having to ask Shitty Ritchie to wish his counterpart here again. I seriously hoped another dong deal wouldn’t be the price for the ask. I wasn’t sure how much more room there was in his pants.
“My guess is that Hemah is going to stage a surprise attack,” Chamuel said with a sour expression. “Hemah was never one for standard entrances.”
Surprise entrance-attack. Bingo. We could play Hemah’s game before It could play us.
“Jennifer and Chamuel, would you mind hiding under the couch? I think a surprise attack—so to speak—from our side would be prudent.”
