by Detergent
Fffft. PPPPPPPFFFFF.
"Oh, nottest againeth," Larry muttered as the air was once again befouled with a stench like rotten eggs and fermented fish. This had been going on for over two weeks. The first few days, Larry would have been inclined to believe it was just a stomach virus that he'd probably contracted from Juniper (and Eru knew what else).
Except that in his case, he wasn't just farting. Occasionally, he shat gold bricks. Earlier that morning, he had shat a lustrous Akoya pearl necklace. That would have fueled his belief that he had once been a god, and he was gaining enough power to attain godhood once more, from feeding on Juniper's life force, and the power of the Orcs who had been turned by his father's meth... except gods used the strength of their will, and he wouldn't have chosen to shit valuable objects. He definitely wasn't choosing to fart like this, either, it was well outside of his control.
Juniper looked up from her book and raised an eyebrow. "That one was especially bad, Larry."
"I knoweth." It was humiliating enough to fart like this constantly, it was worse to have her point it out, especially when she was farting too, just as badly.
"If you keep being a naughty boy and making stinky-winky like that, Mommy won't give Mister Peeper special kissy-wissies."
Larry fought the cringe reflex - he was getting so very tired of Juniper's mommy fetish, but if he didn't go along with it, she wouldn't put out, and that was necessary to drain her life force.
And then, right after Juniper finished scolding and threatening Larry for his farts, she let out an extremely loud, ripe, juicy one herself. Pppprrrbbbfffttt.
Larry thought about saying thou hypocriteth but he kept the impulse in check. Instead, he spoke what he had been wondering since the pearl necklace this morning. "Thou don't thinkest this mighteth beeth supernatural in origineth?"
Juniper shrugged. "Haven't thought much about it."
And thou callest thyself a witch. But, Larry ran with that thought. It was possible - probable - that this was, in fact, supernatural in origin... magical in nature. The humiliation and discomfort of it all felt like a curse. Larry thought about who they might have as enemies, and immediately he thought of that sullen brat Sören, Juniper's ex. They had abducted him, and he had escaped with his friend Yeyette's help. If anyone was up for revenge, Sören was a most likely suspect, but he didn't strike Larry as the magical type. Indeed, Sören wasn't special at all. Quite basic. Not rich and beautiful like him. Okay, so maybe Larry wasn't rich quite yet but he was definitely beautiful, unlike Sören. And his friend was different too. Very different. He would have told his Father about her too but he didn't want his Father to lose his temper at him for dying again. Larry would have to broach the subject with his girlfriend and they'd have to deal with it on their own.
"I thinketh we wert cursedeth," Larry said. "I thinketh this fartingeth is all the resulteth of a curseth."
"You might be right." Juniper shrugged again and glanced back at her book.
Larry exhaled, trying not to let his impatience show. Juniper was a witch - an apparently quite useless one - and it took magic to fight magic. He had a mind to find out where Sören and this Yeyette lived and unleash his wrath, but his father had cautioned him about making a scene. And he had already been inconvenienced in bailing Larry out of jail. Father would make his ire known if Larry did anything that resulted in incarceration again. He was going to have to go about this in a more subtle manner. "Canneth thou not doingeth a spell?"
"I could, but..." Juniper yawned. "I'm tired. And I feel a migraine coming on."
Thou art not too tired for readingeth.
Juniper continued to sit there, only half of her attention, if that, on Larry and his concerns. She clicked the mouse a few times, scrolling through whatever site she was reading. He could hear her stomach gurgling ominously.
"Doeth thou know anyone who can helpeth us?" he finally prompted in a small explosion of frustration.
"I do." Juniper nodded. "I know a few someones." Her dreamy demeanour rankled.
"Someone localeth. Someone I can consulteth with in personeth. And better if they chargest an largeth fee." He was willing to pay up to one hundred dollars, surely that would be a top-of-the-line curse removal. Larry didn't like the idea of getting witchcraft advice over Zoom, or worse, looking at videos on TikTok. And he had a horror of what might happen if he sought, ugh, free or modestly-priced advice. The more the practitioner charged, he reasoned, the better the advice would be. Money always resulted in quality. He hoped she could suggest to him someone who knew how to put the finer things in life to magical use. Then he would have an excuse to indulge AND he could justify everything by saying it was to better their lives.
"There's someone just under an hour's drive from here. Lady Gunnhild. I've seen her a few times for readings." Juniper smiled, her eyes wistful. "Lady Gunnhild told me that I used to be a queen in my past life, and I will be a queen again." Then Juniper let out another foul, violently-explosive fart.
More liketh a queef. "Giveth me her addresseth. I wilt putteth a stoppest to this nonsenseth ninth and for all."
"Don't you mean once and -"
Larry shot her a look, letting out a growl; he hated it when Juniper corrected his maths. But then Juniper gave a glare of her own.
"Don't get fresh with your Mommy or Mommy will give you a time-out and put Mister Peeper in a cage until you can behave." Juniper wagged her finger.
Not the Peppa Pig and Spider Happy Fun-Time Cock and Ball Torture... Larry sighed. He was going to have to appeal to Juniper's more perverted nature to get anything accomplished. He did not want to think about the handful of times Juniper had brought out the large toy spider with the boogly eyes and perched it upon his sack while his dick was in the Peppa Pig contraption stretching it out painfully from his nads. "Scarwee Spider is going to eat his jewels all up if hims doesn't wisten to Mommy... Spider loves the jewels, yesss she does! Nom nom, jewels! " he involuntarily recalled her pressing the fake spider's face to his testicles and making lip-smacking sounds close to his crotch during their last session. He grimaced. He had to play along for now. He sweetened his expression and his voice took on a tiny, wheedling tone.
"Mommy, mayest I please haveth the addresseth of Lady Gunnhild, so I can be a good and helpfuleth boy and put a stoppeth to the curseth?"
Juniper stopped glaring, her face lit up. "Oh, what a nice boy!" Juniper patted Larry's head, then clasped her hands together. "Sure, let me fetch a pen and paper..."
Juniper let out huge, nasty farts as she got a pen and paper ready, and wrote down Lady Gunnhild's address. As soon as the paper was in Larry's hand, he leapt up and began marching to the door.
"You're leaving now?" Juniper squeaked.
"I needeth some fresh aireth." That wasn't a lie; he also needed to get away for a bit before he got tempted to choke her to death.
His hand touched the knob to the front door. As he turned it to let himself out, he heard a susurrus of cloth, a tinkling and a clattering. Juniper, who had sprung up from the couch to catch at him before he could leave stood rigid on the floor near the area rug, tears of pain streaming down her now-grey cheeks. Laying on the rug at her clumsily-hennaed feet were two bracelets of what appeared to be serpents in solid gold with sculpted emerald scales. Piercing lava-hot eyes winked at him, catching the fluorescent light of the overhead fixtures. The barest hint of faeces clung to the deep lines of the serpent carvings and he could see a slight sheen of blood on the snout of one of the snakes. Juniper clapped her hands to her arse and whimpered. A heartbeat later, her eyes darkened with rage.
"Do something, Larry!" she shrieked. "This is worse than the corn I ate last week! I am going to have to call my acupuncturist! You need to do something about this curse right now!"
Larry stared at the jewellery she had shat onto the carpet and wondered how much he could get for those bracelets at Finest Threads. He bent down to retrieve them and almost knocked heads with his girlfriend, who scooped them up, smearing her fingers with poop in the process as she glared at him. Larry glared back and Juniper recalled that she was supposed to be tired and frail. She put her hand to her forehead and gave a mournful, delicate sigh, clutching the bracelets in the other.
"Ohhhh, my migraine. The shock of the curse activating has brought it on and it huuuurrrrtttsss. I'm going to bed." Her waiflike gesture smeared her brow with a thin streak of brown but she didn't seem to notice. She then left the room, shielding the treasure she'd shat from Larry with her body, alternately putting a hand to her brow and holding her ass, taking tiny, mincing steps, moving at an astonishing speed for one so ill.
-
Juniper's directions had led Larry on a forty-five-minute drive into the countryside. He soon found himself on the doorstep of a weathered-looking cottage, confronted by a woman in a homespun navy-blue wool dress topped with an apron dress in a slightly lighter blue homespun. Three long strands of beads, charms, and curios hung from the apron dress straps, draping across her bosom. Larry could make out coins, feathers, and a patch of what he supposed was wolf fur. There were iron charms of three eyes interlocking with each other. He saw stone beads, the teeth and bones of animals, a tiny drop-spindle, an iron spearhead. Her hair had been cropped close to her skull and glowed an unflattering shade of unnatural auburn-orange. She stood in the doorway as if she were measuring him with her eyes.
"Arteth thee Madame Gunnhild?"
The woman stepped out onto the porch and circled Larry, examining him from every angle, passing so close that her skirts brushed his hip. "Who are you? Who recommends you?"
Larry blinked a few times. He hadn't been expecting this. "I am calledth Larry Hortler. Mine girlfriendest Juniper Roberts said thee waseth an most powerful seer and sorceress. I needest thy help for an urgent matter. Might I comest inneth?"
"Ah, Juniper," she murmured distractedly. The woman had something in her hands now; she didn't even look his way. Her fingers were working, pushing something, separating it, no thought for him. A frown of pity nearly hid the hot gleam of avarice in her eyes. She yanked at the object and then cast something to the boards at his feet, hitting his shoe. She folded what she had in her hands double and secreted what she'd found inside the bodice of her apron dress.
"Yes, I'm Madame Gunnhild. You may enter my hall." Madame Gunnhild turned her back to him and entered the cottage.
Larry bent to retrieve the object and once he held it in his pale fingers, he discovered it was his wallet. His mouth worked silently. She had pickpocketed him! Frantically, he cracked open his deluxe pleather billfold with genuine steel snaps and found nothing left in the portion for bills but two tickets for the Gravitron at the Carnival and an IOU he had written to one of the Carnival employees for twenty dollars that he'd managed to get back without paying. Thankfully, his credit cards and driver's license were still inside but he had saved up nearly one hundred dollars and he was going to treat himself at the cologne kiosk at Honeycreek Mall on his triumphant return to Terre Haute. He swallowed his anger. He needed to remove the curse from himself and, well, Juniper too and since Juniper seemed certain that the pickpocket could do it, Larry would bite his lips and clench his fists over the loss. Once things returned to normal, he would gain enough power to make that hundred dollars look worthless beside the fortune he would amass.
Yes, he would definitely gain more power once this curse had been lifted. He would become the CEO of a worldwide concern. People would call him Sir.
"What can I do for you, Sir?"
"How can I serve you, Sir?"
"More chilled champagne or caviar, Sir?"
"Are you going to come in or not?" her voice broke into his budding fantasy.
"Er... Yea," Larry shook off his daydream and stepped after her.
She stopped abruptly in front of him. Larry nearly collided with her back.
"Take off your shoes," she commanded, pointing at a shoe rack near the door beside which sat a box of felt slippers. Larry squeezed his eyes shut so the sorceress wouldn't see how hard he rolled them but complied.
"There will be a shoe-storage fee and a slipper fee on the bill for this consultation."
She continued into the cottage leaving Larry to gape after her. Shoe storage fee? Slipper fee? He pressed his lips together and huffed angrily through his nose. She had better be worth it. These charges had better indicate the highest quality of sorcery available.
"What is it that you seek?" she led him into a room hung with prints of the World Tree, incantations written in Norse runes, dusty herb bundles hanging from nails on the wall and from the rafters above. They came to a desk decorated with what appeared to be real animal pelts, crystals, deep-coloured ceramic bowls, and votive candles. A little stool sat on one side of this desk and on the other, a carved wooden throne of a chair well-padded with cushions.
Larry took in the decor for a moment, gathering himself to speak.
"You're agreeing to my base consultation fee by answering," Madame Gunnhild added as he took a breath to answer. "To which, of course, I will add the fees recently discussed."
He puffed a sigh. "Very well. "I believe that I and mine girlfriendeth have an powerfuleth curse upon us."
"Ah, a curse," the sorceress interrupted him before he could elaborate. Reaching into a desk drawer, she brought out a credit card reader, plunking it down before Larry. "You will need to pay the consultation fee and the additional charges upfront as this concerns a curse, jinx, or hex. Visa, Mastercard, and Discover only. You can also use GooglePay, PayPal, Venmo, and CashApp. I also accept cash but no checks. Your current total is two-hundred ninety-nine dollars."
Larry's eyes bugged at the total. He forced himself to reach for his recently-plundered wallet and slid out his emergency credit card, the one that his Father had signed for him to have. Sauron had been in a remarkably fine mood that day, so Larry had a decent credit limit. He squeaked out a few tiny farts in anticipatory fear of what Sauron might do to him if he ever saw the bill but Larry felt reasonably sure that once the curse lifted, he would become rich and powerful in no time and pay off the statement before his Father had a chance to see it.
The sorceress waited until his transaction had gone through and then leaned forward in her seat, her charms clacking and tinkling as two of the apron dress chains came to rest upon the desktop. She reached beneath again and brought out a small, ceramic dish with a bundle of plant material in it. She lit it and waved the smoke towards Larry whose throat automatically roughened. He began to cough. She continued to wave the smoke and Larry hacked and choked until there were tears in his eyes. Finally, when he thought he might have injured himself by coughing or at least turned a delicate shade of lavender blue, she covered the bowl with some kind of lid and set it on the far edge of the desk. The smoke in the room thinned and his coughing subsided.
"Now, the curse: Tell me about it. Do you know who cast it and how powerful they are? What can you tell me about your troubles? The more information you give me, the better I can work to suit your needs."
Larry cleared his throat and then began explaining to her what had happened to him earlier in the year. At first, he thought that Juniper had eaten food from Taco Bell, which he had expressly forbidden her to do and she had gotten terrible gas. Later the same day, he had been at his garage, lovingly tending to his glossy, black Bentley when he too was seized with increasingly-excruciating flatulence. Later on, he shat something that looked like a brick of gold into his upstairs toilet.
"I see," Madame Gunnhild nodded, pressing her lips together, racking her brain for what sort of curse would cause farting and the shitting of strange objects. She lifted one of her polished stones out of the small pile it sat in and put it into an agate dish on the other side of her desk. "What else has happened?"
"I hath shitted otherst objects. Mine girlfriend hadnth shitted any objects until just today. I hath shitted more than onest brick, an necklace of Akoya pearls, other small objects. Today, Juniper shatted two bracelets of gold and emerald shaped like serpents." Larry frowned and wiped one hand across the other. He hadn't shat anything as costly as a set of gold bracelets with emerald scales- not even the bricks matched them, and if anyone should shit something so costly and beautiful, it should be him, Laurentius Hortler, not Juniper. He had been a god in a past life. And what had she been? She said she had been a queen and the sorceress across the desk from Larry had told her so. The divination was probably as real as Juniper's migraines. She certainly wasn't a goddess, that was for sure. He deserved to be shitting much higher-quality objects. How dare Juniper shit better things than he did!
"Who do you believe cast this curse upon the two of you?"
Larry explained the suspicions he had regarding Sören and Yeyette. "The only problemeth being that Sören is a weak, bumbling loser. His friend, Yeyette is an very different sort of person but she cannoth beeth an sorceress. However, she is vindictive and a bitch."
"And no one else helped them? Are you quite sure of that?"
"I haveth so many enemies aseth I am so handsome and well-regarded," Larry began to pontificate about his position in life. "Mine Fatherest is an extremely powerful man and mine Mothereth is an rich, rich woman. Together, we run a powerful concern."
Madame Gunnhild took three more stones and sat them in the dish with the other one.
"None of these enemies would help pitiful Sören and the horrible Yeyette?"
Larry smoothed his chin in thought. "It maketh none sense. No one would helpeth them and they arenteth sorcerers. They haveth partners, I have seenst them, though none of those men are sorcerers either. But Sören and Yeyette are the ones who would curseth us."
Madame Gunnhild nodded again and took two more stones from her pile and added them to the dish. She then took hold of the credit-card reader and pushed it towards Larry.
"You may pay your fees as accrued until now. Inquiry phase fee, incense fee, incense disposal fee. After your transaction fee goes through, we will discuss my intuitions about your curse and what might be done about it.
Reluctantly, Larry took out his card again and went to swipe.
"Two-hundred dollars for all charges."
He winced but ran his card. The disgusting, painful farts and the shitting of objects had to end. He felt even more urgently about it than before, now that Juniper had begun to shit objects, far more expensive objects than he had ever deposited in the toilet. Pain was one thing but the disparity in the value of the items they had both shat was even more concerning.
"Very good. I have heard of a curse similar to this but not quite as nasty. There is an ancient Icelandic curse called the Fretrúnir and it is said that it caused the afflicted party to experience great, horrible gas and farting until they farted themselves to death. Obviously, there is more to this curse than flatulence. It is a very serious curse and I have not seen one like it in all of my years serving my god. In fact, I cannot do this on my own. I must consult my god in order to banish this curse from you and Juniper."
Madame Gunnhild had charged him several more times to prepare for consulting her god: There were fees for moving her furniture, even though he was the one shoving her heavy desk and throne-like chair around. She rummaged in her cupboards and chests and brought out more incense and a different dish, which brought another few charges. She opened an expensive-looking chest and took out a long shawl or veil that had been elaborately embroidered with horses and spears, ravens and wolves, and twisting, twining knotwork.
"You will be absolutely silent and kneel on the floor while I receive my Lord," she commanded Larry, who pretended to bow his head in submission. His face aimed at the floor, he rolled his eyes, hard- If he had been a god, he shouldn't have to dirty the knees of the slightly oversized, yet somewhat fashionable Hugo Boss trousers he had managed to snag at Finest Threads. He nodded and held his resentment back. How dare she command Laurentius Hortler to kneel. The audacity!
She then began a very lengthy invocation to her deity full of "my Lord" this and "O Mighty One" that. Larry's knees began to throb and still, she kept going. He began to zone out, his mind straying to the things he would accomplish once free of Sören and Yeyette's curse. He would charter a private flight to Italy and purchase a marble villa on a picturesque lake. Perhaps he would look Cole up and bring him along, it had been too long since they were together and if Larry obtained the wealth he meant to, Cole would certainly make himself available. Or perhaps he would pay for the company of a pretty, dawn-haired rentboy. With the sort of money Larry meant to have, he could have his pick of the luscious plums of the world. He could dress him in Armani, stuff his pockets with cash and take him to the tables in Monte Carlo as a good luck charm. Larry meant to celebrate the removal of the curse and his ascension into his rightful place as a god in mortal form. There would, of course, also be revenge but that could wait until Larry had celebrated his elevation into his proper place in the universe.
After she lit the incense and breathed deeply of the smoke, she threw the veil over her head and threw her hands to the ceiling in invocation.
"Báleygr!" she intoned loudly. "Your slave invites you in. Larry Hortler begs your wisdom. The hall is made ready for you. The supplicant pays your fee. O Lord, endow us with your peerless counsel!"
After this, the sorceress began to sputter and hiss like a boiling kettle and she fell back violently into the chair. The wood screeched on the stones of her floor. Larry could feel the weight of the gaze of a third party upon him. It felt like the pressure, the heat of his Father's gaze. It popped him out of his fantasy and he felt a cold sweat begin trickling down his back and into his asscrack.
She began carrying out a conversation with a silent partner while the presence in the room grew heavier and heavier. It was as if shrouded from sight, Sauron himself stood in the room. Larry would have panicked but he knew his Father was occupied with some charity cookout or other he endowed as another front for his meth operation. After some minutes, the presence dissipated and the sorceress sat up straight. Breathing as if she had just climbed a mountain, she pulled the veil from her head and regarded Larry. Shadows rimmed her eyes and her face sagged with fatigue.
"Báleygr has given me instructions on the ritual you should use to remove the curse. I will create the candles, oils, and other necessary items for you under his direction. You and Juniper both should be present for the ritual. As both of you are cursed, you both should participate. If she is feeling poorly, you'll have to do it for both of you and in that case, you will need extra protection."
Still kneeling, Larry made a face at her. His knees had gone numb.
"Oh yes, get up." She waved a hand at him after she had leisurely folded her veil and placed it back into its coffer. He struggled to his feet. She then motioned for him to drag her furniture back into place and once she was satisfied with the arrangement, she took her seat once more and began to write her god's instructions upon a piece of paper.
Madame Gunnhild glanced up at Larry and continued to write. "I will need to wait for the proper planetary correspondences to make everything required for a ritual of this magnitude. I will need to calculate the planetary hours and," she gave a small sigh, "I must obtain a few ingredients I don't normally keep on hand. When I have completed the work, I will contact you. I only take on work of this magnitude if you pay upfront."
Larry couldn't help but grimace at the thought of more charges to the card Sauron had signed for. And now she had just revealed that Larry would have to wait an indeterminate amount of time before receiving everything required to finally rid him- and Juniper- of the curse.
"So for the consultation, in addition to the incense fees, and disposal fees, there is a fee to pay me for invoking the god as it takes such a toll on me. Plus you are paying me for my time and additionally, for the slots of time where I could be taking other clients. Then there are the charges for the herbs, roots, curios and so on for the items required to remove your curse. There will also be a fee for ritually-charging your items and the instructions." She was now doing math on the back of her list of items. She counted the number of stones in the agate dish and continued her addition.
"Do you think Juniper might feel poorly the day of the ritual?" She looked up from her calculations, momentarily. Larry saw all of the numbers strung across the page and tried to ignore the sinking feeling in his gut. His bowels had begun to protest this terrific expenditure and he sucked in his stomach a little, to keep from soiling himself at the thought of the expense.
"Juniper hast an very delicate constitution," he began diplomatically but his voice went flat at the end of the declaration. His gentian-violet eyes met Madame Gunnhild's pale blue gaze. They both knew he lied but seemed to agree to pretend he wasn't.
"Then you must purchase a bottle of protection oil also. If you do this alone, you simply must have the extra fortification."
His anus clenching in horror, Larry watched as she wrote more items on one side of the paper and added several more numbers to her swarm of fees. He was going to have to wash his underpants by hand tonight.
Finally, she took a clean piece of paper out and copied the information down and pushed it toward him. His anus gave way and he shat his pants a little in pure horror. He owed three hundred dollars more in fees for today and... Nine hundred ninety-nine dollars for the construction of the ritual.
Panting his anxiety at both his Father's sure anger for spending so much on the emergency card, should he get caught, and now wanting to get to his car before Madame Gunnhild smelled the heavy skidmarks in his pants, tremblingly, Larry swiped his card one last time and scrawled his signature across the screen of the card reader.
"I'll keep in touch," Madame Gunnhild called after Larry as he fled.
Larry went home and washed his drawers and spent the night obsessing over how to hide the charges from his Father.
Right before he finally drifted off to sleep, he realised he'd left his shoes at Madame Gunnhild's.
He knew they would never be returned.
-
"Still waiting for the right planetary alignments and the proper hour."
Larry bit his lip and clutched his phone. The sorceress had been texting him the same thing for an entire week.
"Are you going to get this taken care of or aren't you?" Juniper asked from the sofa where she languished, playing her dragon game and reading fanfic. The first round of acupuncture hadn't improved her condition and she had scheduled several more treatments. In the meantime, she had been distracted by some delicious street corn from a food truck downtown and her stomach was in a precarious condition.
"I can'tst aligneth the planets, if thou didn't know," he shot back venomously. "Madame Gunnhild says we waitest, so we must. Thee choseth her, remember?"
That night, Larry stormed out of the house and drove recklessly to his private garage at his Father's compound. His pacing was bothering Juniper and her tantrums were driving him insane. Cash-Blaze made him some snacks and he consumed them pensively while stalking Madame Gunnhild's Shopify site. He growled when he saw she was offering ritually-charged novena candles, some of which he couldn't help but notice were dressed with items she had written on the list of things needed to remove the curse- Items she said she had to order especially for him.
"What lovely candles," Larry commented on her shop blog.
"Don't worry, the planets will soon be in alignment and the hour is close at hand. Thank you so much for your compliment!" she had replied in turn,
"Sure," Larry spat at his phone. "Afterest thee make additional moneyest with items purchasedeth with mine money, of course."
That night he had Cash-Blase whip him with an old fan belt as he strove to forget the charges to Sauron's credit card.
-
Half a week later, a package finally arrived on the crumbling doorstep of the house he and Juniper shared. Finally. He opened it and read the enclosed instructions and ensured that everything there as listed and undamaged. Tomorrow afternoon, at the proper planetary hour, Larry and Juniper would finally work the ritual and they would be free of the awful curse. He could become a rich god, deal with the charges to his Father's card, go on a world tour with a rentboy or three and come back and take vengeance upon Sören and Yeyette.
-
Larry stepped out of his hooptie the moment he switched off the Buick. He threw open the passenger-side door with a grinding squeak and hefted a cardboard box out of the seat. Glassware clinked like he lifted a case of beer. It took him three tries to get the car door closed properly. But finally, he managed to slam it shut. He carried his burden towards the abandoned warehouse to a place where his ritual would be blocked from passersby by the vacant loading dock. He walked up to the dock bumper that jutted out from the concrete platform and muscled his box of ritual components onto it. He didn't want some hooligan or other to come walking through the abandoned building after spraypainting a cool S inside or stealing antique bottles or whatever people in Terre Haute did in abandoned warehouses dotted around the wretched, stinking city.
Larry reached up to the rubberband he had used that morning to keep his hair in a high ponytail. The band caught and knotted and, with a high-pitched yowl of frustration, he ripped it out, hair and all, cursing at the wealth of night-dark strands caught in the beige rubber. Madame Gunnhild advised him to take his hair down to do the ritual; unbinding his hair would let his power flow free. He cast the knot of hair and rubber to the ground- The seconds ticked by and he needed to cast the spell at the right planetary hour to ensure the proper results. Juniper had promised to assist him and, of course, he had found a text earlier telling him that she had an acupuncture appointment to deal with her condition now instead of the curse and he was such a good widdle boy to be able to do the ritual on his own. He had nearly thrown his phone at the wall, wishing he could whip it at the back of her head. He steadied himself and turned his anger towards fuelling the ritual.
First, he dipped his hand into the box and brought out the black-painted bottle of protection oil that Madame Gunnhild had insisted he use prior to the ritual and began to anoint himself with it. It smelled of old gym socks and asphalt but he slathered it on like sunscreen at the beach. He smeared it across his forehead, dumped it into his palm and reached inside his shirt; the sorceress' warnings echoing in his mind. If he skimped on protecting himself, those bitches could not only prevent Larry from removing the curse on himself and Juniper but they could magnify it and Larry didn't want to shit anything more anus-tearing than he already had. Where did two nobodies learn a curse such as they had afflicted him with anyway? Never mind- Larry would anoint all of his chakras, sub-chakras, and auxiliary chakras, and they wouldn't be able to touch him magically. He reached down his black trousers with a palmful of oil, got his knees, briefly removed his shoes and socks and got his foot chakras. Fearing he had left himself open to attack, he poured some of the oil down his back to get the backs of his chakras as well. And then, for good measure, he reanointed Mister Peeper because he knew many people were jealous unto tears regarding his endowment. After he had accounted for all of his chakras and other areas, Larry noticed he had about an eighth of the bottle left and, since Juniper wouldn't be joining him and, since he had paid for it but would no longer need it after the ritual, Larry poured the remaining oil into his hand and slicked down his somewhat lustrous raven strands for good measure.
After he had anointed every pore and strand of hair on his body, Larry reached into the box and removed a single can of regular Pepsi cola. Condensation frosted the metal and the can itself chilled his fingers and palm delightfully. He had bought himself a can of Pepsi on the way to the warehouse as a treat to reward himself for the successful completion of the ritual. He admired the way the gathering beads of water drew a sort of sigil down the side of the Pepsi can then realised he was dallying and so set aside the soft drink for later. It may have been low-brow and not at all like chilled champagne but sometimes Larry liked a cold Pepsi... ironically, of course. He couldn't help but think of the fizzy sweetness and decided he could have a sip so he could keep his mind on task during the ritual. He pulled the tab, smiling slightly as the carbonation hissed and the tab made a satisfying metallic sound as the drink popped open. He lifted the can to his lips and took a mouthful, relishing the taste and the bubbles on his tongue. Then he set the can on the loading dock and brought himself back to the task at hand.
Madame Gunnhild had sent him a large votive candle that she claimed to have poured herself. A piece of "parchment" was taped around the outside of the jar in the manner of the novenas one could purchase at most big-box stores and small, mom-and-pop stores alike. Runes had been inscribed in what he had been given to understand were magically-appropriate colours upon this paper. He had been told that these were magical inks, hand-blended during the proper planetary hours, with herbs and other materials that would increase the potency of the energy Larry would summon. If he had bothered to examine the inscriptions, he would have found them to be Sharpie marker, however, Larry trusted the work as it had been expensive. Aluminium foil covered the mouth of the chimney and he removed it, peering inside to see what he had bought. He found that the top of his candle had bits of herbs and roots and what appeared to be crab shells glued to a red wax base with splashes of orange wax. He could see oil on top of the candle as well. He put the candle down and composed himself as the paper instructed- He would think only of being cleansed of the curse, purified in the candle flame, with the power of Báleygr and Larry's higher self. The curse would be destroyed and he would be free to gain a new form- that of the inconceivably powerful and wealthy god he was meant to be. And incidentally, the curse would be lifted from Juniper, of course.
As directed, Larry lifted a crisp piece of paper from the box and wrote his petition upon it, forcing himself to include Juniper as well. He anointed the petition with a little ampule of oil that had been included after folding it small. He then dug a hole in the wax, pushed the petition into it, and covered it over with shavings from the hole. He lit the wick and began the ritual.
He directed his thoughts and will towards the candle as he had been instructed, envisioning his power like a stream of gold and jewels fueling the spell, wrapping around the candleflame and coming back to him, white-hot, cleansing him, elevating him, transforming him into his true form. He imagined the torrent of white-hot wealth sloughing off the curse, destroying it, liberating him from his lowly existence... streaming from him to Juniper, encircling her and purifying her as well.
Lost in meditation, Larry didn't see the plant matter and the paper petition inside the votive catch fire as the wick burnt down. He didn't hear the flames or the sizzling of the wax and oil. The novena turned into a torch and finally, the cheap, badly-poured glass, weakened by the intense heat exploded, raining sharp slivers and gobs of burning wax and crab shells all over the area. Situated as he was, Larry took the brunt of the flaming shower. Flaming debris like crab-scented shooting stars smashed into him, rained down upon him from above. Once open flame made contact with the protection oil he had slathered all over himself, Larry too burst into flame. Instantly, he became a bonfire on two legs.
"Hee hee! Owwwww! Fatherest! Fatherest! Halp! Hoooooooooooo! I brendeth! Father!"
Fire raged all around Larry now. It devoured his long, jet tendrils, crisped and blistered his once-moonlike cheeks. The lids melted shut over his dazzling eyes. The protection oil that Madame Gunnhild had insisted upon, had turned him into a human funeral pyre. His hair was nothing more than tinder, bronze and cinnabar, with flame as the fire from the exploded jar candle swiftly consumed it. Larry called out frantically to his Father; he did not want to die, covered in crab shells, semi-exotic oils, and bits of herbs. He threw himself onto the cracked asphalt of the abandoned parking lot and attempted to smother the flames, rolling back and forth but it was no use. It was as if the flames had gathered supernatural strength and were determined to burn until Larry became nothing but wisps of char.
In one last move of desperation, Larry's flailing hand found the can of Pepsi he had brought to reward himself with after completing his spell. He tried to extinguish the flames with the soft drink but there was too little of it to arrest the flames. The sugar caramelized, then cracked upon his blistered skin.
The flames burnt until they no longer hurt and then worked inward towards his heart. Larry felt the end draw near and his thoughts stuck in a loop: Money, power, his beloved rentboy, his darling luxury automobile, and shock that Father had not come. Then he was outside of himself, angry and confused. He saw the tangled limbs of the body, grey tendrils rising from his corpse.