Buying Deer and Selling Sheep

A Thursday Prompt story
© 2020 by Walter Reimer


Prompt: intensifying kilogram


“Hey! Glad you could make it.”

My pal Rodney answered the door. Rodney’s a big whitetail deer and a good dude, but he’s usually hard up for a buck. It’s cool though; I ain’t like that. Besides, although I’m a buck, I’m a rabbit. We’re just friends, and he invited me, my girlfriend Donna, and a bunch of others to a party at his place. Rodney doesn’t throw parties very often, which is a shame because he’s got a larger apartment than my friend Harvey, has enough money to buy his own booze, and gets his herb from this guy he knows.

Not bad herb, too, and no sign of any sheep. That little woolly dude’s got great herb, but he’s weird. There were maybe ten or fifteen furs in the apartment. The party was just getting started, with people showing up straight from work and relaxing. Rodney had his sound system playing something by Saddam’s Stepsister, nothing really loud yet.

Donna got herself a beer from the fridge, and I fixed up a vodka and lemon-lime soda. Not real strong yet, and we took a seat in the living room to talk to people and get in a party mood. Donna sat on my lap, which was nice. She’s a cute little rabbit doe, and we’ve been seeing a lot of each other.

Yeah, I know what I said.

More people started showing up, and Rodney rolled some of his herb. The music got a little better, and a few of us started dancing. I was dancing with Donna, and Pete and his brother showed up with groceries and a disposable grill. Rodney doesn’t have a big back yard, but it was big enough for the grill. While the coals got hot, Pete and his brother took over the kitchen and started getting the food ready. They’re good cooks, and Rodney didn’t seem to mind.

Donna gives me a kiss. “You having fun?” she asks. We’re both on our second drinks, and third dance. Rodney’s playing Manic Piano Asshat’s Sunburst.

I kiss her back and take a deep breath. Dude, I am getting a great contact high off the herb. “Sure am,” I say. I sniff again. “That’s great herb, and it’s not from that sheep either.” One of Donna’s ears dips.

“Dude, that’s heavy.” My ears swivel and, sure enough . . .

“Hey, little woolly dude,” Donna says before I get a chance to. I’m looking at the drinks that are set out.

No absinthe. That’s cool; that crap’ll kill you.

He hasn’t changed much. Still wearing a loud shirt and no pants. “Your boyfriend’s so heavy all the time,” the sheep said before he wandered further into the party. He starts dancing, but it’s like he’s hearing a different tune than the rest of us. Whatever.

“He’s right, you know,” Donna says. She smiles and cuddles up next to me. “You really need to lighten up.”

“I’m fine, little doe,” I say, and I give her a kiss. “And so are you.” She flicks her little powder-puff tail against me and giggles. Donna likes to giggle.

Pretty soon we’re all starting to feel good, what with the herb and drinks and music and all. Pete and his brother are cooking, and it smells terrific. My ears twitch along with my nose as I suddenly realize that someone’s just lit up some really good herb.

The very best herb, I judge after taking a deep hit off the pipe that’s being passed around. Donna takes a hit as well and gets a little closer to me.

After a while, I can start to see the smells wafting in from the grill. Huh, didn’t know that the smell of grilled peppers was teal blue.

The music changes to a great song for dancing, Pie Stuffing, and I’m glad that Donna’ s sitting in my lap. She is, too, judging from her giggling.

“Hoppy-go-lucky?” and I look up from nuzzling my doe to see the sheep.

“Hey, woolly dude. Great herb.”

“The very best herb,” he says with a smile. “But the deer’s got some great herb, too.” He pauses as we hear some tiny voices chanting “We love tea and biscuits!” coming from Rodney’s bedroom, and he says, “Gotta go, dudes. Praise the Divine Effluvium.” He heads off in the direction of either the kitchen or the bedroom, and the smells from the grill are turning a little red around the edges.

“Hey Pete!” I hear someone yell, “I think you’re burning the brats!” and Pete goes outside, drink in paw. After a few moments the red tint fades away.

Donna’s snuggling a little more, and I stroke her ears. “Having fun, little doe?” I asked, and oh wow, I can see my words in the air. They have a nice green color.

“Ooh,” Donna says, and giggles when the sounds come out blue and cotton-candy pink. Pretty.

A nice slow dance tune’s playing, and everyone in the room stops to watch the colors of the music mix with the colors coming from the grill. Wow.

The sheep and Rodney come into the living room, a fog of angry red around them. They’re arguing about something. “Come on, dude,” the sheep’s saying. “It’s not like you’re using them.”

Rodney puts a finger in the sheep’s face. “Dude. For the last time I’m not selling you my antlers.” He gestures. “Ask me again, and I’ll sell you to a wolf.”

The sheep shakes his head. “Man, all of you are so heavy tonight,” and he goes back into the bedroom. There’s a few voices saying “Praise the Divine Effluvium,” but they’re in this sorta funny pinkish-red color.

Magenta?

Gesundheit, dude.

The pipe goes around again, and we all take a hit. Great herb.

I go to take a drink, and the cup feels like it’s made of lead or something, real hard to lift. Donna’s starting to press harder and harder into me, and some of the dancers have sat down on the floor. The ones who are still standing and moving real slow, and after a few minutes they sit down, too.

The colors in the air droop, kinda, lower and lower till they’re all over the floor like someone spilled a paint store.

After a while, no idea what time it is, we’re all of us laying flat, draped over the couch and the chairs and floor, and Donna and me have sorta oozed together. Sorta romantic. One guy’s spreading out of his chair and onto the floor like a puddle of pug.

“Heavy, dude,” I hear the sheep saying. “Furs need to lighten up, this is a party,” and I see him drift into the living room. He’s sitting cross-legged, about a foot or two off the floor, and puffing on his pipe. “Sometimes you just have to embrace the unbearable lightness of being.”

Donna giggles, and the color flows over me and sets up a ripple. Hey, I’m a puddle, and the colors of the sounds probably make me look like a puddle after a rainstorm.

“That’s it, little doe,” the sheep says. “It’s a party,” and the sound system starts playing Ryan’s Birthday’s new single Uber for My Love. Great beat, and you can dance to it.

We’re all starting to ooze around in time to the music, and really slowly it gets easier to move. No time at all, and we’re all on our feet dancing. Everyone’s really getting into it, drinking and dancing and laughing passing the pipes around. Donna and me are dancing, and she suddenly points and laughs.

There’s this one girl, a cute ginger tabby, who’s floating up to the ceiling. She’s still dancing, and other furs are joining her.

When the song finished, it was a B side track, we were all back on our feet and Pete and his brother brought the food in. It turned out to be a great party.

Although there was that guy we found sound asleep the next morning, dressed like Lady WaWa and surrounded by stuffed plush weasels, but that’s another story.

I asked the sheep about it later. He just said, “Some nights are best forgotten, but Rohypnol’s seriously not cool.”


end