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The Tooth Fairy War and Other Tales
Type: , ,
Author: Jeromy Henry
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What do a missing prosthetic arm, an AK-47 and a Tooth Fairy have to do with one another? Find that out and more in this delightfully bizarre collection of 13 humorous fantasy, sf, and adventure tales by Jeromy Henry.

Rating: Unrated



Sample Chapter

The Tooth Fairy War

 

What happens when you start with a missing prosthetic arm, mix in a tooth fairy, and add an AK-47? Originally published in Quantum Muse, July 2010.

 

I slid the cool steel length of a pipe wrench under my pillow, and lay down.  I rolled my shoulders a bit and tried to relax the tension.  Tonight, I was going to get the little bugger who stole my prosthetic arm.

Honestly, who creeps into a guy's house and takes his arm?  I figured it was a nutcase, a tooth fairy, or maybe both.  The sick bastard who did it left a quarter under the pillow.  I slept, and nothing disturbed me for the rest of the night.

The next morning, I cursed and threw the blanket to the ground, shouting at the top of my lungs.  The pillow smacked against the wall.  I stared at the shiny quarter lying on my blue sheet.  I ran to my safe, dialed it, and riffled through papers and a stack of grimy hundreds.  I flipped open the worn leather of my billfold.  The thief hadn't taken anything else.  I sat on the bed with my head in my left hand, and thought.

On about eleven that night, I caressed the curved clip of the AK-47.  I grinned and chuckled in anticipation.  I tucked the wooden stock under my fluffy pillow, and scrunched my head to the side, trying to get comfortable.  I wrapped my good hand around the worn green strap on the gun.  No one could take it without waking me up.

Now, I can't aim a rifle too well with one arm.  But I figured that if the tooth fairy was the one doing it, he had to be small.  A pistol might not work too well.  Fairies are small, right?  If I threatened to spray the room with bullets, I figured he'd have to give my arm back.

A tug on the strap woke me.  I heard the faint whisper of a footstep on the carpet.  I rolled and jerked my arm up.  I saw the blurred impression of a manlike figure by my bed.  I thrust the stock of the rifle at its stomach.

Now, I'm six foot two, and I work out.  I put a lot of power into the blow.  Unfortunately, I forgot about the pillow.  I heard a muffled thump as the pillow hit the thief.  The figure stumbled back and fell against the wall with a room-shaking thud.  I heard breaking glass as the lamp tipped over.  I lunged for the light switch, just as my opponent got to her feet.

She didn't look like any tooth fairy I've ever imagined.

Tattoos of snakes and skulls covered both arms.  She wore a sleeveless black leather vest, and a white shirt with a picture of some guys with long hair and guitars.  A black miniskirt, knee-high red and white striped socks, and combat boots completed the outfit.  She'd dyed the tips of her white-blond hair an electric blue.  Her jaw worked on a wad of gum, and pale blue eyes looked out from a solid black ring of mascara.  She was pretty, with a thin nose, small pointed chin, and a nicely shaped, petite figure.  A couple of silver loops glinted in each ear.  A pair of pink butterfly wings sprouted from her shoulders.  When they flapped a couple of times, I realized they weren't fakes.


(to read more, follow the link to Smashwords...)




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