It was a warm, sunny day. The sun was shimmering in its eternal position of eclipse upon the sky. Clouds were clouding the harsh, judgmental days. The birds which could afford to bare their feathered breasts before the harsh rays were chipper and chattery, filling the air with merriment. All around, there were men and women setting up stages and preparing grandstands. A banner floated above, reading "THE SUN EMPEROR's 14th ANNUAL ELECTRIC BOOGIE-WOO DANCE COMPETITION FEATURING D.J M.C ESCHER"
I loathed all of it.
"Rex, why do we have to go out here in the day? The day is the worst part of the week…"
Rex Rodgers, my dear traveling companion, gave me a dry look. I could feel the moisture evaporating from my eyebobbers as he spoke to me.
"Phineas, do try to grow up. We're amongst adults here, and I would hate for you to embarrass us in front of such an important client."
"Professional dance managers are now important clients?" I adjusted my parasol's height. "It's just some stupid contest full of stupid dancers being… stupid."
Rex pinched the bridge of his nose. "Phineas… do try to have at least some restraint. We're surrounded by gentle-dancers here."
I frowned. "Why do you always have to be so formal… it's boring. You're boring. Stop being so-"
Before I was able to continue, I bumped into a rather large man.
"Ah, Mister Quazzlon. A pleasure to make your acquaintance."
A gargantuan hand reached past me, absolutely drowning Rex's weak wrist in his iron grip. I watched as Rex's arm danced the entire color spectrum of oxygen depravation during their handshake, and witnessed him casually hide his ruined digit in his coat pocket, so as not to embarrass this lumbering giant.
"So, it is you two who will be investigating our… disturbance. Yes yes?"
Rex nodded. "Me and my colleague are the best in the business, sir. You mentioned witches…?"
Adjusting his painfully yellow suit, Mr. Quazzlon nodded. "Yes. They're, uh… twerk witches."
Rex blinked. "… Beg your pardon?"
He sighed. "Look… there's witches for everything these days. These in particular are upset because, uh, my client, the esteemed Disco Fred, was admitted entry over their coven. So.. they swore to curse him."
I piped up. "And you want to keep his ass safe, ye?"
"… Yes. So you two… know what you're doing, right? Do you need anything from me?"
Rex shook his head, shooting me a look that said 'if I could shoot daggers from my eyes into your noise-hole, I would'.
"I'll be off, then." he said, lumbering towards some workers building a grandstand. "If you need me, just holla."
Rex glared at me. "Phineas, please try to keep a professional demeanor while we're working. I know you're not exactly enthralled by our choice of venue-"
"-but we need to do our job here."
I sighed. "Alright… where do we start?"
To this, Rex brightened like a brand new desk lamp in a cold dorm room. "Well, dear, very simply! We must talk to everyone to gain information!"
I frowned loudly.
In a dressing room, somewhere between somewhat and very far away, Disco Fred was humming along to some tunes, practicing moves, and preparing to win a dance competition.
He gracefully flopped his body to and fro, spinning around like a real go-go. It would have been a sight to bring tears to the eyes of even the most dehydrated man. Sadly, he was not on the stage, but along, in his dressing room. His manager had told him to stay in here, because there were some sort of bad luck juju outside his room. Fred didn't believe in luck or the letters j and u, but he did believe in his manager, so he stayed put.
But then, he felt it.
In his tushie, his cute little tushie, there was a jigglin' and a wigglin'. Small, at first. Dave thought it might just be indigestion.
But it was definitely not indigestion. Not that Dave knew. He was sort of dim.
The source of this peculiar butt-janglin' was coming from a women's bathroom stall.
A stall…. of evil.
For inside this stall, there sat the most dastardly coven of witches since the Ashley Fan Club Twelve.
Their leader, Gratilda, was a small woman with an enormous tush. It squashed against the bathroom wall, almost knocking down the very stall doors. Her face was a mashup of about five different grandmothers, boarding school teachers, nannies, concentration camp guards, and sane cat ladies. She was stirring a bubbling, bibbly brew of doom and other dastardly adjectives.
The biggest one, Helga, was a massive, almost spherical being, with a tiny witch hat perched on top of her dome-like head. Aside from her sisters tush, her body was the one pressed up the most against the walls of the stall. From her lips, came a babbling spell, which entwined with their witchy brew.
Finally, the third sister, Betsy Stu, was sitting in the adjacent stall, unable to fit in the same area as her sisters and their twerkin' booty. She was mostly there for moral support.
"Sis!" yelled Betsy Stu, the most aggravating yet bored tone she could muster. "You've been in there like, for-ever! When're we going to smoke these bums out?"
"Eghhh!" shouted Helga.
Gratilda paused from her stirring. "We'll be done in just a moment, dear! Hold your horses!"
Betsy Stu grumped. "You said that three times already!"
"That's how many times I meant it!"
Just then, the brew popped, and a classic 80's riff strummed through the stalls.
The time was nigh.
Rex stopped his brief investigation underneath the 2345th seat in the stadium to look up at me. "Yes, Phineas?"
"Dude this is so dull, yer making me nuts. Why can't we ask people, instead of checking every dang seat?"
Rex tsked at me no less than three times. "Phineas, how many times have I told you that the best detectives always check everywhere. That's how good detectivity works!"
I frowned. "Why don't we check the obvious places before going under every seat, though?"
Rex grinned. "That's what they expect us to do."
I groaned with all of my might, then stood to look up at the crowd. There were quite a few people now, and this might be a good time to actually ditch Rex and do some detectiving of my own.
"Hey, uh, Rex… I need to use the little bat's room. Do you…"
"Go ahead, I'll pick up the pace to make up for you."
I didn't waste time. Doing my best running-walk, I mingled with the crowd, asking people left and right. I really felt like a detective.
However, my initial hopes quickly turned to massive disappoints.
"Uh, excuse me sir-"
"Sorry! Can't talk now!"
"I'm good with my religion, thanks!"
"Can I ask if-"
"Sorry, can't hear you, I'm blind!"
I was a dejected fellow once I returned to Rex. Sitting upon a stadium seat, I sighed a heavy sigh.
"Ah! Phineas! You're back! Are you ready to help me search the seats?"
I nodded, and got down on my knees to see if the gum hid anything suspicious.
The stage was set. The star was ready. Everything was good to go.
"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN! WELCOME, TO THE THE SUN EMPEROR's 14th ANNUAL ELECTRIC BOOGIE-WOO DANCE COMPETITION FEATURING D.J M.C ESCHER!!!"
The crowd went absolutely ape-shit as Disco Fred took to the stage.
Myself and Rex, in the crowd, watched with some hesitance. We'd not found anything suspicious, save for some graffiti. We were standing with the organizers, who we'd assured repeatedly.
Quazzlon edged closer to Rex. "You're sure everything is okay?"
Rex smiled that most comforting of grins, and patted him on the back. "Rest assured sir, you're all-"
From on high, three intergalactic witches sharing one broom and two absolutely dynamic booties descended, holding a cauldron of bubbling horror.
"You decided to exclude us from your hoighty-toighty competition! But now… you will be the, uh, exclu-dumb ones!" yelled Gratilda.
They unleashed their potent brew down onto Disco Fred, and the crowd at large.
Poor Fred, already primed for their spells, quickly dropped down, and twerked like no tomorrow. His ass, once small and nimble, now engorged with magical quickness.
The rest of the crowd was not spared. One row after another was torn asunder by this horrific magic, dancing with tears in their eyes and sobs in their throats.
Rex elbowed me. "Time to go!"
We turned to run, but it was too late. The spell was upon us. Struggling, we pushed through the now sizable and miserable crowd. elbowing stray cheeks at every turn. At last, we were released.
"I told you this was stupid."
The banner, once high and mighty, floated down on us. It looked tore up from the floor up.
"… Maybe you were right, Phineas, maybe you were right."
And with that, we set off, our expanded asses bobbing into the night.