Category: Potato Moon

The Honda Civic practically buried itself into the driveway of Sullen Manor as Edwood leaped from the driver’s seat, barely bothering to shift the car into park. Jakob, Woeisme, and Something nearly trampled over each other trying to exit the car as Edwood hit the front steps of the porch within three bounds.

“Hey, Dad!” Something cried out. “Think we ought to have a plan before we just go busting in there?”

Without the slightest pause in his movement, Edwood turned his head ever so slightly to his son. “That is the plan!”

Continue Reading “POTATO MOON, Part 22 by Mark C. Dooley” →

Bela froze as the short man approached her. His full, thick eyebrows
reminded her of her beloved Edwood, yet on this intruder she found
them thoroughly off-putting. More disturbing was the ungainly helmet
he wore, his name emblazoned across the front in large sans-serif
letters: MIKE DUKAKIS.

“I hope I haven’t alarmed you, young lady,” said Dukakis. “I assure
you, I mean no harm.”

“No harm! You’ve scared me half to death lurking in the shadows like
that! It’s one thing to skulk about if you’re young, lithe, and hot.
It’s quite another if you’re… well, you! What do you want, you
troll?”

Continue Reading “POTATO MOON, Part 21 by Jack Scheer” →

“Will someone explain what’s going on?” shrieked Woeisme as Edwood revved the engine into a fine red whine.

“How to explain the immortal perspective?” began Edwood. “I’ll try. Over 50 years ago, encrypted messages began appearing in newspapers. Strings of seemingly random letters could be decoded by keen eyes to spell out answers to questions.”

“You mean those Jumble puzzles?” asked Jakob.

“I do,” said Edwood, betraying no emotion. “I’ve honed my skills over the years, and can unscramble such sequences into the form that makes the most sense. Woeisme, how many letters are in your name?”

“Seven.”

“Right. Jakob, how many letters in ‘potatoe’?”

“Six.”

“I was pronouncing the silent E.”

“Oh, right. Six.”

Continue Reading ““POTATO MOON,” Part 20 by Steven Marsh” →

They drove into the drive-thru. It took Woeisme hitting Edwood on the back of the head to get him to stop at the right section. He glanced at the menu, but it all seemed like meaningless gibberish to him. Just like the past few days. Just like all of his life, really, but he tried not to think about that. It was rather depressing and made him destroy furniture, and he knew how Bela hated to come back to a broken home.

“I’ll have a…a,” he floundered, aimlessly. Behind him, cars honked in impatience. Even their honking sounded like his beloved’s voice.

“French fries!” Woeisme snapped. “Smothered in ketchup, drizzled with salt-”

“I want a hamburger!” Something interjected.

Continue Reading ““Potato Moon,” Part 19 by Amanda Panda” →

“Edwood, why are you sparkling at night?” Woeisme asked.

“Oh, sorry,” Edwood said, and took off his sequined jacket. “I’m not going to let you have her, Quayle,” Edwood growled. “She’s my daughter. And she’s Jakob’s… something.”

“What?” Something asked.

“Not you.” Edwood rolled his eyes.

Continue Reading “POTATO MOON, Part 18: “In the Kingdom of the Potato, the One ‘E’-ed Potatoe is King,” by Corey Tacker” →

NOTE FROM PAD: This sets a new record as our speedy contributors have given us three chapters in less than twelve hours. Outstanding work. Hugh Casey chose to give his chapter a title; subsequent contributors can follow suit or not as they see fit. And I feel confident in saying that with the revelation of the Potato King, we’re hitting new heights of lunacy.

Woeisme, sailed through the woods, riding upon the back of Principal Flutie, and thinking to herself all the while that this was REALLY inappropriate, and would probably get him fired if she reported it, but then if the whole “I’m a werewolf” thing didn’t get the principal canned, then running though the woods with a sixteen-year-old-looking-but-really-an-eight-year-old-girl on his back was really small potatoes.

Speaking of which…

Continue Reading “POTATO MOON, Chapter 17: “In the Hall of the Potato King” by Hugh Casey” →

Edwood’s brow was deeply furrowed, as if by a team of horses ploughing furrows of soil into which could be planted, well, almost anything. His hands inched over the soft yielding King Edward potato, caressing it into a highly passable version of Jakob’s features. He was deeply frustrated. Making a voodoo doll of a shapeshifter was so frustrating.

At Jakob’s house, Woeisme was kneeling next to a mooing were-cow. “But mother, he isn’t even a bull.”

“Not now, Woeisme.” Belas eyes were fixated on the pack of werewolves watching from the garden. They had told her that the Potato King wanted to meet her daughter, to talk, but Bela knew in her heart of hearts, that somehow this was all about her.

Continue Reading “POTATO MOON, Part 16 by John Finnan” →