Lemon Curry?
© 2025 by Walter Reimer

Bernie Phlute ©  eocostello
Titles by  marmelmm
Music by Ferde Grofé
Suits by ‘Rick’ of Altoona

Thumbnail art by  rockbaker

Part Thirty-one.


Sorena smiled wickedly as those who could see her undisguised reflection in the mirror reacted and the others looked quizzically from her to El Peludo and back. She sneered at the hulking luchador and said, “So, finally we meet.”

She dropped her wolfess-guise and grimaced as her spines tore open the back of her clothing. “I’m the Queen of Darkness,” she complained as onlookers screamed and began to run, “and I still can’t get a decent cloak?” She gestured to her companions, who also dropped their disguises, and pointed at Diana. “Take her!”

The Priestess hissed and charged at El Peludo who sidestepped the chupacabra at the last moment, seizing her by her shoulder and, swinging around, hurled the creature through a nearby window. Enrique and a few of his friends from university formed a phalanx around Diana.

Dorpf intercepted Eduardo as the latter, still half-disguised, headed into the fray. The chupacabra hissed at the Boston terrier and the two began to grapple.
Eduardo bared his teeth at Dorpf. “How did you see through my disguise?” he growled.

"Suspension of disbelief," the terrier said, his voice strained as he tried for a karate throw as he’d been taught in the Minkerton’s academy. He almost succeeded.

"Eh?" Eduardo asked, his ears perking at Dorpf’s words.

In reply, Dorpf pointed to his right. He looked in that direction and nodded sagely.

The chupacabra looked to his left and his eyes widened. "Ohh, I see now - "

Dorpf took advantage of the chupacabra’s distraction, clenched his right fist, and delivered a roundhouse swing that connected solidly with Eduardo’s chin. His head snapped up and to the right and he fell to the floor, unconscious. The terrier stood over him, ready to deliver another blow before suddenly jumping around, grimacing in pain and flipping the paw. “Ow Ow Ow Ow . . . D – “ he suddenly froze, looking around wildly as he realized he’d almost started swearing.

Mother would not have approved.

One young woman, a friend of Diana’s, screamed as one of the creatures chased her, missing a grab at her as she dodged around a table laden with desserts. He reached across the table at her and she took hold of his ears and drove him muzzle-first into a cake. He staggered backward, dazed, as she began flinging more of the cake at him until her current boyfriend seized the chupacabra by one shoulder and punched him in the face. More cake rained down on him as his girlfriend, still in a panic, continued throwing desserts in every direction.

A few of the young woman’s friends got into the spirit of the thing, joined her behind the table and began throwing confectionery.

The Ortiz’s butler, Jackson, threw up his paws and stormed out of the room.

Bernie Phlute had wandered outside for a moment, mainly to get away from Mrs. Ehecatl’s amorous gaze. Gee, some women, eh? The Ortizes knew how to throw a party, though; the champagne was the real McCoy, not like that stuff he had when he went to . . . what was that place; oh yeah, Gull Island. That had been good, probably, but he still had trouble recalling much about the trip until that crazy de Ciervos guy started chasing him.

Some clients just couldn’t take good news to save their lives.

He took a step back in surprise as someone came hurtling out a window to the accompaniment of the sound of shattering glass. The stork supposed he should go back inside and see how Jacob was doing; the Boston terrier was a well-trained agent, but junior as they came.

Phlute went back inside to see some weird-looking guy, maybe a canine, trying to attack Mrs. Ehecatl. The woodpecker was backing away with a fearful, horrified expression on her face until the backs of her legs hit a chair and she sat down heavily, cowering as the guy loomed menacingly over her.

A sudden and somewhat inexplicable chivalric impulse hit Bernie Phlute.

He drew his revolver and shouted at the guy, “Stop right there, you – you CAD!” He fired a round into the ceiling as a warning shot.

Most of the party crowd had vacated the house by now, and some of the rest stopped what they were doing to look at the stork, who stood facing Mrs. Ehecatl’s erstwhile assailant. His pistol was aimed at the weird canine, and Phlute said, “Good boy.”

There was a creaking noise above and behind him, and he half-turned in time to see the chandelier coming straight at him. The fixture hit him high up on his back, knocking his pistol out of his paw and propelling him forward. The odd canine sidestepped him and ran as Phlute toppled.

The stork shook his head, and shook it again. Something was wrapped around his beak close to his face; it wasn’t particularly tight, but he planted his paws somewhere and, feeling slightly dazed from the chandelier striking him, he pulled his beak free.

He shook his head a third time to clear his head and noticed three things:

One, his paws were planted on a pair of woman’s thighs;

Two, there was a beak-shaped hole in the woman’s dress between the aforesaid woman’s thighs; and

Three, Mrs. Ehecatl was looking down at him affectionately.

“My hero,” she said in a sweet tone, and batted her eyelashes at him.

Bernie Phlute gave a sudden squawk of alarm, stumbled to his feet and began to run. Looking behind him to see if he was being pursued, he naturally wasn’t looking where he was going and piled straight into the back of the male chupacabra who had been facing off against El Peludo. The stork’s momentum drove them both into the burly luchador, knocking all three to the floor.

Sorena saw her chance and gave Enrique the full power of her hellish gaze, causing the goat to flinch backward and making him easy for her to shove aside and seize Diana by her left wrist, her right paw coming down on the bat-shaped mark on the young woman’s left shoulder and causing Diana to cry out as the mark burned her. “It is destined,” Sorena hissed, staring into the goat-femme’s terrified eyes, “ordained by my Lord. You are mine.”

Diana screamed and her eyes rolled back in her head. Sorena effortlessly threw the young woman over her shoulder with a roar of triumph and ran for the door, followed by those of her minions who were still conscious.

Dorpf pocketed his pistol and dragged Phlute to his feet while El Peludo grabbed at the fleeing chupacabra’s tail and missed. “Who? What?” Bernie asked, still dazed.

“No time!” El Peludo said. “We must follow and stop her! ¡Vamos!” and the luchador started running after Sorena.

“They’ve got our principal,” Dorpf said. “We have to go after her,” and the Boston terrier began running.

“What?” Phlute asked again. The stork saw Mrs. Ehecatl, gave another squawk, and took to his heels after El Peludo and Dorpf.




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