#youaskedforit

DUMB BIRDS IS GONNA BE A BOOK?!!

For real, though. Pretty excited to announce that "The Field Guide to Dumb Birds of North America" is to be published April 2, 2019 by @chroniclebooks – it's fucking beautiful and you can PRE-ORDER IT NOW via the links below. You asked for it. 🦅

• Pre-order on Amazon • Pre-order on Barnes & Noble • Pre-order on Chronicle Books • Pre-order on IndieBound

She stepped over the cracks in the drab concrete, application and resume in hand.  She printed it on plain white nondescript paper.  In the overcast sun, the faded gray streetlamps granted no light to the cramped shaded alley.  Disrepair and neglect crept to the storefront of the Tricky Treats candy store.

She thought, the Tricky Treats Candy Store?  When did that get there?

Her shoulders slumped.  She'd addressed her cover letter and filled out an application for the Torture Candy Sex Shop.  She'd passed the shop on several nights, spotted a Now Hiring sign, googled it, and found her way here.  A similar 'now hiring' sign hung between the brightly colored candy striped pillars of the flamboyant storefront.  In the window, a rainbow assortment of delights awaited purchase; colored spiral pops in purple and pink, orange caps atop magenta bottles, green candy canes, flowers of white icing atop violet petals dotted with tiny red berries their center, plus an oceanwave-like poof of cotton candies dyed blue and spun before a curtain of red Twizzlers all stood in stark contrast against the outside world full of ashen, cracked streets and the chipped, faded paints of the alley walls.  

A bit of her reflection in the glass showed a childlike happiness, a glitter in her eyes at the vision of sweets.  Upon seeing this reflection, she straightened her shoulders and pursed her lips as if to say Happy doesn't look right on me... Ugh, they'll probably force me to smile at this job.  She sighed to herself and entered the store to apply.  The job would not involve sales for the toys she loved, but she figured that at least if they hired her, she would not starve.

So she stepped across the threshold of flamboyancy and into the Tricky Treats Candy Shop, Home of the Trickster's Delight™.

Inside, pinatas of all sorts imaginable hung from the railing of the stairs to the loft, and along the loft railing as well.  A gilded sign and a red velvet rope across the stairs signified that the upstairs area was reserved for employees, only.  A large urn filled with decorated sticks advertized the various prices for the pinatas on display; the sticks were sold separately, and each stick did match a pinata above. Clear jars of candies assorted by color lined a rainbow wall.  A sickeningly pink frilly apron hung upon a coat rack near the door. Sunlight streamed in through the window and highlighted the stacks of Heart Shaped Boxes in various states of decorative gaudiness.  One heart shaped box laid open upon the workspace counter.

The workspace consisted of a reflective epoxy countertop which held an old-timey cash register and a large gumball machine, its globe filled with jawbreakers.  Behind this counter sat a workbench, above which sat shelves of mysterious gift-wrapped product.  An ornate four-tiered cascading chocolate fountain was anchored into the edge of the workbench.  Price tags cut in little squares in pastel colors, some underlined red to denote a sale, marked the shelf under each well-organized line of colorful products.  The products were eclectic in their design; A line of ceramic jars whose lids were replaced with white cloth were tied tight with red hemp.  Tubs and boxes were wrapped in colorful papers and tied tight with hemp or ribbon. Stacks of round, peach colored tins with gold etched in bevels joined gold boxes with red lacquered strawberries on the shelves.  White paper packages with lavender and sky blue labels sat on the shelves above a set of cabinet doors with brass handles.  The thin, babyfaced man behind the counter left this cabinet door ajar, which gave her a glimpse at the rolls of tissue paper and ribbon and wrapping supplies within.  The man snipped a bit of gaudy ribbon, neon orange with a magenta stripe down it's center.  He slipped the ribbon between his elegant pale thumb and the edge of his sharp silver scissors, and pulled.  The ribbon hissed as it slipped between the pad of this thumb and the bladed edge, and curled beautifully at the end of the scrape.  He wound this ribbon onto an equally gaudy heart shaped box before the tiny bell above the door jingled and caused him to look up at her.  She wondered why the bell failed to jingle when she first arrived.  Little did she know, he wondered the same thing.

“My apologies,” he said, “I didn't hear you come in, may I help you find something?”

“I'm... looking for a job if you know where I can find one of those,” she said.

“A jo- Oh, right, the hiring sign,” he said.

He sighed as if he wished someone else he knew would have applied for the job sooner.

“Well,” he said, “let me see your application.  You did bring one, yes?”

“Yes, but um, it was for, hey wait!” she said.

He plucked the papers out of her hand and read over them.  And as he read, his smirk grew.

“Okay dude, look, I was looking for this other place, google said it was right here, and here it isn't, but I still need a job, so-”

“I can't accept this application,” he said.

“Is it because it's for the other place?” she asked.

“What other place?” he asked.

“You know, the sex shop?” she said.

“Oh, no the sex shop is not a problem.  Why would the sex shop be a problem?” he asked.

“I mean, it's not a problem, that's the job I wanted,” she said.

“Hmm. Anyway, I'm afraid I can't accept an application without a name on it,” he said.

“Excuse me?” She said.

He turned the application around to reveal the fields for a first and last name were both blank.  The sight took her aback.  She knew she wrote her name on the application, it was the first thing she did after printing it out.

“Oh, well, I have a pen, may I have the application back and I'll scribble that information in,” she suggested.

“You know it's quite unprofessional, to give an application, resume, and cover letter, all without a name,” he chuckled.

“Quit messin' with me,” she said.

He turned around her resume and cover letter.  Where she had once printed her name in the header in large font capital letters, nothing had printed.  At the end of her cover letter, the last word was “Regards,” without a name written afterwards.  She wondered if she was dreaming, or if she'd had a seizure or stroke at an early age.

“You know, if you don't want them knowing your real name at the sex shop, you can use a fake name,” he suggested.

“Uh, I don't mind if they know my real name,” she said, “they kinda need that for tax purposes, right?”

“Not really.  Do you perhaps have a stripper name?”

“A what?”

“A stripper name.  A street name?  A … sex toy worker name?  Hell, even a tumblr username?” he asked.

“Why?”

“Because we have to put something on this application before you can turn it into the sex shop, and your real name just won't do,” he said, “So, what would you like to be called.... Miss?”

“Communication is usually my strong suit, I apologize, let me just think-”

“Miss Communication, it is, then,” Loki said.

He scribbled Miss Communication on her application.

“Uh...” she stammered.

“Mind if I call you Miss Cum, for short?” He asked.

She burst out laughing.

“Sure, that's fine, just put down whatever you think will land me the job,” she said.

She reached her hand out to him, with the intent of shaking hands.

“So Hi, I'm Miss Communication!  Apparently, I answer to Miss, or Come. What's your name?” she asked.

He took her hand and kissed her knuckles gently.

“Loki,” he said.

The magic bell tinkled frantically.  Loki looked past Miss' shoulder and squeezed her fingertips in excitement.

“And here comes our most important customer!” he whispered.

He dropped her hand, stood up straight, and brushed his hair back over his ears.  Miss turned, but saw no one in the shop.  

“Quick, hide yourself,” Loki said.

“Eh, what?” she said.  

Loki pulled her behind the counter and pressed for her to stay down.  A shadow passed over the door, and in walked a tall, broad shouldered man with long thick hair and ice blue eyes.  He greeted Loki with a thunderous voice.

“Hello again!” the man said!

“Ah, Thor! Welcome back!  How are you today?”

“I'm well!  Thank you for asking,” Thor said.

Miss peeked over the counter.  She lost the will to hide upon seeing the tan muscular man's broad smile.

“Holy shit,” she said as she popped up from behind the counter.

“Oh, hello!” Thor said.

Loki cleared his throat.

“Thor, this is Miss, Miss, Thor.  Miss, could you go run the IC inventory in the stockroom for me?” Loki said.

“Hi,” Miss said to Thor.

Under the counter, Loki pushed her away from them.

“Get lost, I have work to do,” Loki muttered.

“Uh huh,” Miss said.

Thor smiled, looked at his feet and scoffed to himself.  He looked back to the pair, locked eyes with Miss, and spoke eagerly.

“So I came by to pick up something special for my girlfriend,” he said.

Miss' jaw tightened in pained disappointment as Thor emphasized the word girlfriend, however, she retained her goofy grin.  Thor turned his attention onto Loki.

“And I just knew you'd have something amazing for me to give her,” Thor said.

“Well, I was just working on something amazing, but it's not quite done yet!” Loki said.

Loki waved his elegant hand over the gaudy heart-shaped box with the crazy magenta striped neon orange ribbon.

“Perfect! I have some time, is it a bother if I stay?  I love to watch you work,” Thor crooned.

“I vote stay,” Miss said.

Loki, blushing from the compliment, elbowed her.  He gave her a look that both silenced and comforted her.  His look was one part “you're in no trouble, but play along,” and one part “let me handle this, I've got a plan.”

“Of course it's no bother!” Loki said to Thor.

To Miss, he whispered, “keep quiet or you're fired before you even fill out the w-4.”

Loki cleared his throat and returned to work.

“Trainees,” he scoffed, “am I right?”

Loki curled another ribbon for the gaudy heart-shaped box.  He selected a cardboard insert for the box and lined it with an azure tissue paper. He side-eyed Miss as he took a gold tin with enamel cherries inlaid from the freezer.  Miss looked at Thor.  Thor beamed, concentrated on everything Loki did.  Miss turned her attention to Loki.  He removed a small red fruit, a cherry.  The neglected cherry pitter rested on a hook on a pegboard near the fountain.  He dipped the cherry, pit and all, into the fountain by the stem, and sat it upon a tiny circle of pinkish paper.  After repeating this process six more times, he reached for a shaker full of sprinkles.  Miss watched as his hand glided past the sprinkles and to what appeared to be a shaker of crushed red pepper.  He shook out an even coating of the pepper, then reached for a pippete bag, filled with a hot pink icing.  He wound the stem in spiral of this icing and wrapped these six up.  He transferred them to six out of the thirteen divots in the cardboard spacer.  He then prepared to make six more, but as Miss squinted, she noticed that whatever fruit he pulled did not look like a ripe cherry.  This fruit looked wrinkled.  As he pulled the next one, she spotted it clearly; these were carolina reapers.

Miss's eyes widened and she looked at Thor to see if he noticed.  He had the exact same studious, unchanged beaming smile on his face as when Loki first began his work.  Reapers dipped, iced, and wrapped up, six more filled the divots.  Loki pulled a special clear plastic container from the stainless steel refrigerator.  Inside, a piece that looked like an ornate corsage shone through with pearlescent violet petals and dewdrops crafted with boiled sugar glaze.  Loki uncovered the artisenal confection, scooped it into the center of the heart-shaped box.  Thor beamed.

“Beautiful,” Thor said.

“Thank you for the compliment, I am glad you enjoy it!” Loki said.

He closed up the box and sealed it with the gaudy neon ribbon.  Thor took out his wallet, handed Loki some bills, received his change and left with a polite wave to Miss.  She watched his sculpted ass as he left.  As the magic bell tinkled to denote his exit, Miss turned to Loki with her hand in the air.

“Fuck the hell yes!  Way to get my back with that mystery girlfriend, you are awesome!” she said.

“Your back?  I've been poisoning this mystery bitch for months, believe me, Miss, I am doing this all for myself,” he said.

“Wait, for clarity, you gay is good, you poisoning people is bad,” she said.

“Oh please, I never send her anything I wouldn't let him eat on accident. So no, it won't kill her, not that I haven't thought about it, but I want it to make her wish she was dead,” Loki said, “so at this point I've hit her with the hottest, foulest, nastiest flavoring I can find and she still won't fucking break up with him.”  

He slumped hopelessly against the counter and looked toward the door with longing.

“He must be absolutely incredible in the sack,” he said.

“Have you tried sending him back with, like, normal shit?” she asked.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“Like, normal, delicious chocolates, in a pretty box with a nice note,” she said.

“Why would I do that?” He asked.

“Because, I mean, he keeps bringing her what you send, doesn't that kinda mean she likes it?”

Loki sighed.

“You might be right.  He's a kinky bitch, I know that,” Loki said, “it's very possible she likes the suffering.”

“How do you know he's kinky?” Miss asked.

“Work here for a couple of weeks,” Loki said, “you'll understand real quick.”

“So, does that mean I got the job?” Miss asked.

“Can you start tonight?” Loki asked.

“Uh, I mean, I'm here, so, sure, I guess?” Miss asked.

“Then you're hired,” Loki said, “go put on that apron.”

She looked to the coat rack by the door, upon which the sickeningly pink frilly apron hung.  She looked back to his uniform, a striped shirt and black slacks and tie.

“I don't have to wear one if you don't,” she said.

“You're no fun,” he said.

“Look, if I'm really working here tonight, you should probably show me what I'm supposed to be doing,” she said. “Oh, you're working,” Loki said, “I was just about to take down the Now Hiring sign and lock up for the night.”

“Wait, if I'm working tonight, and you're locking up now, what am I supposed to do?”

“Training,” he said cryptically.

He walked out the door and tugged on the Now Hiring sign.  He turned the hanging Open signboard to Closed on his way back inside.  The neon open signs shut themselves off, and velvet curtains of deep violet descended over the windows to hide the treats within.

“Miss? I'll need you to stand over here, please,” Loki said.  

He gently held her by the wrist and guided her away from the workspace. The business cards on the cash register each jumped into the air and flipped, one by one.  Before the jump, each white card read “Tricky Treats Candy Shop, Home of the Trickster's Delight™!” in candyapple red ink.  After the flip, the black backside of each card contained candyapple red lettering which read “Torture Candy Sex Shop” and in much smaller letters below, “(Also the Home of the Trickster's Delight™)”.

“What the theoretical fuck,” she muttered.

“Oh dear, I'm afraid I'm not accustomed to having others in the shop for the transition,” he said, “please pardon me.”

Loki pulled her against his chest just as a squadron of sexy mannequins pranced past with boxes of gear.  She yelped as their chests collided.  He slid his hand to the small of her back and took her other hand in his.  He pushed his right toe between her feet, then kicked it out to step to the right, pushing her foot to the right in the process, causing her to step to the right along with him.

“Terribly sorry, try to keep the tip of your toes pointed towards mine, and if I push, you step back,” he said as he pushed her.

She stepped back.  A mannequin bolted behind Loki, hauling the hot, still cascading chocolate fountain.

“And if I pull you, you step forward,” he instructed.

His right foot stepped backward, so she stepped forward with her left, kept the toes of her left shoe pressed against the toe of his right. He pulled her, she stepped forward as he stepped back.  She collided against him as he stopped abruptly.  Mannequins shot by them on every side, and when he pushed her forward again his legs spread to take impossibly long steps.  She strained and reached backwards with her heels in an attempt to keep up with his wide gait.  The inner seams of their pants crossed paths and built friction between their legs as they waltzed among the chaos.  He pressed his back against the back of a bent mannequin, which lifted and swiveled to its left.  Loki swiveled to his left, kept their backsides together, and Miss twirled to the right to compensate.  The mannequin walked away and Loki swiveled again.  When Miss twirled herself into place, she felt her rump brush against the edge of the counter.

“Up,” he said.

He lifted on her waist, and she bounced up to sit on the counter.  He jumped up and straddled her lap with his knees on the countertop as a mannequin ran a swiffer broom beneath them.  She looked at him with a face full of uncertainty at the correctness of their intimate proximity.  Loki smirked.  His eyebrows darted up for a instant, as he pulled away from her face and pressed against her breastbone.

“Down,” he said.

He pushed her, and her back hit flat against the countertop, as he himself hopped down and ducked below the counter until his head sunk between her open thighs.  She could not see this, as her head hung free over the opposite edge of the counter. When she looked to the ceiling, just overhead, a metal bar containing many hangers full of lingerie swished over her.  She sat up to find Loki's smirking face still between her legs.  She pointed her finger right to the cute bridge of his pale nose.

“Not unpleasant, but not okay,” she said.

“I do hope you'll pardon the mess,” he replied, “things get a bit different in here come sundown, nothing looks the same after dark here.  Not even me.”

A lollipop tree swept over his head, over her lap, and her finger caught a clear red pop.  She caught it as it fell from the tree, before it could bonk Loki on the head.  She looked down at him.  His baby face appeared to age.  The smooth, porcelain skin grew a touch more loose and porous.  Parentheses like creases pressed themselves into the edges of his muzzle, crows feet imprinted at the corners of his intense eyes.  The kiss of age rendered him no less attractive, only different.  Miss lifted the gemlike red candy.

“Can I have this,” she asked.

He stood up, put his hands around her waist and drew her from the countertop.  He took the lollipop from her and flung her towards the entrance door, but kept hold of her hand as a line of mannequins ducked down and shuffled between them under their arms.  He lifted their hands and spun back into her arms.  While he spun, he dropped the lollipop back into a second mobile lollipop tree and withdrew a different, teddy bear shaped pop.  He unwrapped it and presented it to her.

“How about this one,” he said, “it's safer!”

“Sure,” she said.

She bit the head of the lollipop and closed her lips around its round waist.  A mannequin barreled toward the two of them.  Loki, wide eyed, silently asked for a little push.  Miss pushed him forward as she pushed herself back out of its path.  Her heel caught some unseen obstacle as she stepped back.  Loki wheeled to face her, grabbed her palm as she fell, yanked her towards him, spun her back into his arms.  She looked up at him wide eyed, and sucked down the cherry flavor from her teddy bear lolly.  The magic bell tinkled out an alarm.  The mannequin squad jumped, scrambled to their final positions.  Outside the last rays of sun disappeared behind the mountains.  The candies that were left on the shelves transformed into various adult novelties and sexy sundries.  The assorted candies in the stacked glass bowls became individually wrapped specialty condoms, energy pills, and single use lubricant packets.  Packets of Fruit Stripe Gum unwrapped themselves and reformed into striped edible underwear, as displayed on one previously nude mannequin. Packets of twizzlers unwound and tied themselves in intricate Japanese knots around a rope-bondage mannequin.  The long, twisted spiral lollies in the vase turned into pyrex wands.  Miss' wide eyed expression turned to one of concerned confusion as her teddy bear melted in her mouth to take the form of a small cherry red anal plug. As she continued to suck on this new-found pacifier, it provided the same cherry flavor.

“That one does look cute in you,” he said.

He stretched out a long, elegant finger and pressed the button on the butt of the plug.  It wobbled, then the edges of Miss' lips blurred as the vibrator whirred.  She pushed the button and it pulsed rapidly, pushed once more and it switched off.  She pulled the plug from her lips with a slurp and stared at it in suspicion.  Loki smirked at her, and each new wrinkle the sunset brought with it displayed itself upon his face.

“You seem shocked at the change,” Loki said.

“I'm just surprised that it's still cherry flavored, considering, y'know, where it usually goes,” she said.

She popped the plug back in her mouth and continued to suck on it.  Loki chuckled.

“You're going to have a lot to learn from my clientele, I can already tell.”

-------  #KristenMackWriter#@debellatis#@teck#@kingloptr#@ruleroftheworl#@adamcansuckme#@lady-loki-laufey#@godly-butt-touching#@toomanylokifeels#@timeasylum#@hailvady#@mangajuicexd#@sparkleslordofthunder

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