Page 59 of Love vs The Ooze Monster!
Sylvester had been a real dope, though. He hadn’t listened when Rico told him that Boyd wouldn’t part with the girl willingly. Not over some dumb letter and certainly not for long. It made no sense! Boyd could get any good-looking sheba in town, if he wanted. But his gaze was always fixed on Mabel. It wasn’t even about the additional dough she made for him. Boyd was hot for the girl. She was in his blood, like a poison or something.
And the best remedy for any poison was an even more powerful poison.
Rico had been thinking about it all night and day. He’d seen Sylvester get eaten by a bright orange monster and then he’d seen the same monster again in town. Surely, it was thesamemonster that had killed everyone in the speakeasy. And it didn’t take a genius to link thatsamesame monster to the orange gin that Norris, the funeral director, had been peddling.
Boyd would be coming for Rico. It was a certainty. Everything would have been easier if he’d been able to kill Boyd in town. He’d been skulking around Boyd’s house, looking for an opportunity to strike, but there were too many men standing guard. Boyd was protecting Mabel, so at least a half dozen armed goons were stationed just out of her eyesight. Then everything went down with the slime creature attack, which scattered them. It had been a perfect opportunity to catch Boyd off guard. Rico had taken his shot and missed.
Damn it, he’d come soclose.
Now, Boyd would be on a search and destroy mission. That charming smile was a mask. He was a relentless killer, trained in the literal trenches of war. The only one capable of leashing Boyd was Mabel and Mabel was evenworse. Together they were insurmountable. A goddamn cataclysm.
Rico couldn’t fight the strength of the Cassiday syndicate. No way. Not on his own. So, he was recruiting a bit of help.
“Hey, Mick.” He called casually, strolling up to Boyd’s warehouse.
It was two in the morning, but the lapping of the waves stopped his voice from carrying far. Most of the men were out looking for Rico or for the ooze monster. There was only a skeleton crew at the docks. The sentries were lower ranking men and none of them anticipated Rico just walking up to the rarely-used side door.
Mick’s eyes widened at Rico’s greeting. He was a young guy with a thin mustache and a penchant for fancy shoes. He blinked at Rico and, for just a second, he hesitated. Caught by surprise and unsure what to do.
Dumb kid.
Rico slammed a knife straight through his throat.
Mick fell over dead, Rico catching his body before it toppled into the water and made a big noise. He dragged the corpse into a shadowed alcove and covered it with some trash.
With Mick out of the way, Rico backtracked to where he’d stashed the sacks full of orange pedals. Those had been fairly easy to find. He’d spent most of the day hiding in the graveyard, trying to figure out his next move. He’d seen Mrs. Patten visiting her husband’s mausoleum, lugging the bags inside of it. Weird orange flowers had been scattered on the grass, behind her.
Again, it didn’t take a genius to connect them to Norris’s moonshine.
After Mrs. Patten left, Rico had gone into the mausoleum and taken the flowers. There had been bushels of the damn things drying in the small space. Norris’s orange hooch somehow used the secret-ingredient orange flowers, combined with formaldehyde, to create a gigantic, orange ooze monster. To anyone from Nevermore County, the craziness was par for the course.
And, just as obvious, a gigantic, orange ooze monster was one hell of a good distraction.
Two would be an even better one, though.
Boyd would be looking for Rico, no question. Fortunately, the Pioneer Picnic was the next day and it gave Rico an opening to create some chaos. If Boyd was dead, detained by the cops, or busy fighting a jellyfish creature, Rico would fall way down on his list of priorities. It might give Rico the element of surprise, when he struck. Generating a second monster seemed like a pretty clever plan.
He snuck into the warehouse, careful to stay out of sight of the other guards.
It was easy to put the orange flowers right into the beer barrels, scheduled to be delivered to Mr. Schmidt at Wheeler’s Lost Pond. Easy to dump some formaldehyde pilfered from the funeral home in there with it. Easy to slip back out, again, with no one the wiser, until he was long gone.
Now, all he had to do was head out to Wheeler’s Lost Pond and wait for the show to start.
***
At eight the next morning, Boyd was admiring his Rolls Royce.
Mabel was the love of his life. No question. But the car was an unchallenged second. While it looked fantastic parked in his driveway, it needed more protection from the sun, and air, and birds and dirt. He was going to build it a garage. A big one, where it could safely shine in all its shiny glory. And maybe buy it some shiny siblings. Nothing was too good for his new baby.
He figured that Lew would be okay with him having the Rolls. He’d understand it was in safe hands. Boyd and Lew were alike. They were both bruisers from the wrong side of the tracks, but they were also smart enough to recognize when something special came their way. They knew how to appreciate it. It was why Lew had given him Mabel, after all. Because only guys like Boyd and Lew could properly care for such a tornado of a girl.
She’d mow down lesser men and leave them for dead in the wreckage.
“Boyd!” Mabel shouted from the doorway. He could tell by her tone she was pissed about something. A real tornado of a girl. No one could deny it. “We need to talk about this dress you bought me.”
He glanced her way, his gaze running over her new outfit and spotting the issue. “I told Charlie to get something red.”
“Except, it’s not red. It’sorange.” She came marching over to join him. “I explained that I’m in a negative headspace about orange, right? Not to mention, this dress is far too formal for daywear.”
