Yes, the silliness is back! Sorry for missing Fiction Friday, O readers. I had one of my lovely migraines, triggered by stress, weather, stress, tiredness, stress... you get the idea. Migraines are less about pain for me these days and more about balance issues, vision disruption, fatigue, and the inability to concentrate. Not a whole lot of fun.
But in any case, I survived it, and I'm going to make it up to you today with an exceptionally silly Made-Up Monday, along with some good writing news! I have declared February Personal Novel Writing Month, and will be working on a new piece which I have tentatively called "The Faerie's Godmother". I've had one vote for 1600 as my daily word count to shoot for... anybody else have an opinion?
Whether you do or not, please recall that comments to the blog are moderated and will be approved as soon as possible, and please enjoy a little twiddle about the adventures of Mr. Latvian Door and Olaf the Super-Pup!
Mr. Latvian Door, the teenage super-spy, peered around the corner of his namesake, looking first one way, then the other. At his feet, his sidekick, Olaf the Super-Pup, did the same. "All clear!" the pup yapped. "Stand by for Super Latvian Speed!"
Door glared down at his sidekick, who looked back up at him as innocently as a white Pekingese wearing a blue nylon cape with red edging could possibly look. "That's my line," growled the hero, tucking his messy light brown hair behind one ear. "What are you trying to do, upstage me?"
"Maybe." Olaf stood up on his hind legs, sniffing at Door's knee. "It'd be kind of nice to be the hero instead of the sidekick for once."
"Oh, shut it." Door scooped up Olaf and tucked him into the crook of one arm. "Stand by for Super Latvian Speed!"
Winding himself up, he bolted out of the door with a loud whoosh noise.
"Whee!" yelped Olaf as the world blurred around them. "Wait. Where are we going?"
"We're going to the park." Door slowed down and stopped, setting Olaf on his paws on a snowy path, then snapping his fingers. A slender green leash materialized, linking the teenage super-spy and the caped super-pup. "I have a rendezvous. You just...be yourself."
"Okay." Olaf wagged his entire back half before pouncing into a snowdrift. "Banzai!"
Door's free hand contacted his forehead with a sharp smack. "That's Japanese," he pointed out. "You're Chinese."
"So what?" Olaf romped through the fluffy snow, scattering it everywhere. "Whee! This is fun!"
"Aww!" squealed a voice. "He's adorable! What's his name?"
"Olaf," said Door politely, turning to face the person who was talking. She was a few years older than he was, slender and small, with long dark hair and big hazel eyes. "Because he loves snow so much."
"That's even more adorable." The young woman clasped her hands under her chin. "And what's your name?"
"Door. Latvian Door."
The young woman's eyes widened. "Latvian Door?" she said, her voice acquiring a trace of an accent. "Such a one does not exist. I should know."
"You were misinformed," Door returned in the same accent, as Olaf burrowed out of the snow and came bounding over to sniff at the newcomer's feet. "For as you see, here I am."
"Yes, here you are." The Latvian Lady looked him up and down suspiciously. "But how can I know you are who you say you are?"
Door leaned in close. "The pineapple dances at midnight," he whispered.
"That is the password." The Latvian Lady nodded in satisfaction. "Very well. I have the information."
Swiftly she tapped a series of numbers into her mobile device. Door glanced at the screen, then nodded. "Three-two-nine," he repeated back softly. "Five-three-one. I will not forget."
"See that you do not." The Latvian Lady bent to pet Olaf, then turned and walked briskly away.
"Excellent," Door murmured. "Our plans progress."
Scooping up Olaf again, he wound himself up and was gone.