Chapter Eleven. Anyone Got a Light?

The redhead let out a shrill cry, "There's no way they could have anticipated us!"
The sparrow-faun stretched its impressive wing-span and at once ascended into the night.
"Where is he going?" Blissful E. Bear shouted after the creature.
"She is going to hopefully save our necks."
"And what about the pooch?" Blissful asked.
The two cloaked ladies exchanged the quickest of glances, before dropping the dog onto its paws, watching it with fervor. The white mess of hair looked back at its audience with little more than a passing glance before proceeding to chase a flea on its upper thigh.
"Is that it?" Blissful sighed. "One cowardly godzilla-sparrow and a flea ridden mutt?"
"Hey! This dog is cleaner than you'll ever be, bear!" The redhead scolded.
"Not to be a bother," the 1950s pinup interrupted. "But I think we have more pressing matters at hand."
The convoy was getting closer, the group were seconds away from a wash of headlights, and a promise of uncertainty. The power lines were punctuated with a dozen little birds, Blissful noticed, and as he watched, more seemed to scuttle down and settle.
"Is that something to do with our not so hero-like bird friend?" Blissful asked.
"I sure hope so," the redhead sighed.
Suddenly, the small white dog lost all interest in attacking its hind leg and grew before them into what appeared to be the missing Blues Brother, suited all in black. Its face the only part still canine.
"Man that stings," the hound spoke.
"Really?" said Blissful. "You're a talking hound and that's the first thing you say?"
"Who brought this guy?" The hound retorted.
The cars screeched to halt before the four of them and out jumped six henchmen, all curiously wearing overalls. Behind them, strolling leisurely were two ginger-haired women in business suits. In the back seat of the car, there was a figure, sitting gagged and bound. Blissful felt his blood run cold. The trees above them were now strewn with the silhouettes of a hundred tiny, fluttering wings.
"Let me handle this," The hound assured, and wandered up towards the group before them, before reaching into his pockets and pulling out a cigarette. "Anyone got a light?"
"Stay right where you are Leonard, we know your tricks."
Blissful turned to the redhead. "His name's Leonard?"
"A guy can't ask for a match?" the hound jeered, all the while trying to edge closer to the sedan holding Blissful's brother. "Oh," Leonard realised. "I already have one."
He ignited the lighter and as he did, the flock of birds surrounding them descended in a cloud of feathers.

JH

Chapter Ten. Afraid of Giant Birds

The cloaked troupe moved stealthily through the ghettos of Harper's Wood. Blissful watched the two hooded ladies move ahead of him, he was still wondering how bringing a chicken and what looked to be the terrier from Back to the Future, "Einy", was going to help their rescue of Matt.

He still knew neither of their names, but somehow trusted them, or at least the redhead, implicitly.

"Just so that I know the plan... why the puppy and chicken little?" Blissful E. Bear asked the leading pair.

The two cloaked figures ahead of him stopped and turned, very slowly.

"Show him," the redhead said to 1950s pinup.

"Here?"

The redhead nodded.

The chicken in the woman's hand flapped from her grasp and seemed to turn before their eyes into some kind of mythical faun, but of the bird-kind. Legs clad in tights, sneakers and a pair of leg warmers, the upper body, however, had changed into that of a sparrow.

"My brother's captors are afraid of giant birds?" Blissful asked. "What am I not following here?"

"Your brothers kidnappers are not what they seem, Mr Bear, nor is much of what you take for granted in your everyday life."

Blissful looked cautiously down at the puppy. The small thing simply licked his hand and then began chewing on his hind leg.

Before them there was suddenly a screech of tires, as a host of sedans careened down Gilcrest Avenue, speeding directly for them.

JH

Chapter Nine. A Chicken & A Small Dog

Blissful E. Bear and the mysterious woman were watching the strobe of sunlight cut through the buildings, and splinter into their tram. She deposited the tissue scarred black with mascara into an interior pocket of her cloak and pulled out an old photo of Matt, Blissful's brother taken years ago, his hair long and dishevelled, his upper right arm not yet punctuated with countless tattoos. "Do you know this man?" the woman asked.

"What?!" Blissful was growing tired of this run around. "Of course I know him, that's my brother."

"This man is in deadly trouble."

"I know," Blissful sighed. "Which was why I thought you were..."

Blissful stopped, and looked at the woman.

"What is it? Did I miss a spot?" The woman looked through her pockets lifting out her compact mirror and began to apply more eye-liner.

"...that's where i thought you were taking me, and who are you?"

"They were going to kill you back there, you could be a bit more appreciative."

"We need Jerry, if we have any hope of getting my brother back."

"We don't need Jerry, we have something much more important. Just wait we're almost there."

Blissful looked around at the motley assortment of characters on the number 15, the woman reading Goodbye My Ovaries was now crying. The wannabe gangsta was checking himself in the reflection of the oncoming dusk, making sure the collection of ironic timepieces hanging from his neck were not obscured from view. The LED screen read "Next Stop Harper's Wood". Blissful's heart felt like it could beat the procession to a marching band on acid. The pair alighted from the tram, and were met by a dark figure, yet another cloak, this one black in colour that shrouded the figure of yet another woman. The hood came down and the woman under, long blond hair, curled like a 1950s pinup, lifted a chicken and small dog from under the many folds of fabric. This was going to be an interesting night.

JH