Free 8 Gone is the Witch by Dana E. Donovan Page A

said Carlos.
    “Disgusting,” Tony hissed.
    “ Vile,” I said. “I’ll have some.”
    “ As will I,” said Ursula, pinching the sides of her neck. “Parched be my throat as the desert sands.”
    “Oh, what the hell,” said Carlos. “ Pour me some, too. How bad can it be?”
    Tiny filled three glasses and slid them over. He set a fourth glass down in front of Tony and laid a narrow bead on him. “Mister?”
    “Fine . Fill`er up.”
    We waited until he topped off the last glass before lifting our drinks and clanging them together over the bar. “A toast,” Tony proposed, “to finding Leona and returning her home safely.”
    “Hear, hear ,” Carlos echoed. “To finding Leona.”
    Ursula said, “Find thee thy friend and return her safely.”
    I couldn’t resist. “To the Guatemalan darlin`.”
    Tony thought of correcting me, but then dismissed it with the headshake. We tossed our drinks back and belted them down, slamming the glasses on the bar in unison when finished.
    “ I tell ya,” said Carlos, wiping the corners of his mouth with the back of his hand. “That wasn’t half bad. I think I can feel a buzz kicking in already.”
    “Me too ,” said Tony. “A couple more of those and a body might not mind it here so much.”
    Tiny smiled, “That’s the idea. What do you think keeps me in business?”
    I lifted my empty glass. “You know, I think I taste something strangely familiar in that concoction. What’s it?”
    “ Just three ingredients. Fermented bat phlegm, moth balls and gunji water.”
    “Bat phlegm! Of course. I knew it!”
    “Mothballs?” Carlos made a face as if coughing up a sour grape. “Aren’t mothballs poisonous when consume?”
    “They’re not that kind of moth balls.”
    “Oh. OH! That’s gross! ”
    “ Sure, but you have to admit, it’s good.”
    I could see Carlos thinking about it, weighing what he knew before drinking the elixir with what he knew after. “ The man has a point,” he admitted. “It was good.”
    “You want another?”
    “I don’t know. I might want a drink of that punjab thing you mentioned, earlier.”
    The barkeep laughed. “Punjab ain’t a drink. It’s a euphoriant paste derived from fermented brobble.”
    “What’s a brobble?”
    “ It’s a plant that grows in treklapod excrement.”
    “ What do you do, spread the paste over your skin or something?”
    Tiny shook his head . “Not quite. The only way to serve punjab is in suppositories.”
    “You stick it up your ass?”
    “Ye ah, but don’t worry, there’s no extra charge for administration.”
    Ursula said, “ Methinks I shall pass.”
    “ Me, too,” I said.
    Tony and Carlos likewise waved off even the remote possibility of entertaining the offer. Tiny, who seemed to think we’d be back to reconsider, simply shrugged. “Suit yourselves. Okay, it’s time to pay up now.”
    “I got it,” said Carlos. He pulled his wallet out from under his robe, removed a twenty and slapped it on the bar. “Keep the change, my good man.”
    I looked at him queerly. “Where was that?”
    “Where was what?”
    “Your wallet. I know you’re not wearing pants.”
    “They were in my shorts. I stashed it there when those thugs stole my clothes.”
    “What else you got down there?”
    “What do you mean?”
    “ You got your car keys in there, too?”
    “ Maybe. You want to look for yourself?”
    “Pah-leeease.”
    “Well, since you asked nicely.”
    “No! I mean spare me.”
    “Hey,” said the barkeep, pointing at the money as if someone had left a pile of dog shit on his bar. “What the hell is that?”
    Carlos said, “I’m paying the tab. What, it’s not enough?”
    “I don’t take paper money here. Where do you think you are?”
    “Well, apparently we ain’t in Kansas.”
    Tiny slammed the heel of his fist down hard on the bar. “ That’ll be eight difermium pellets. Two per drink. NOW!”
    “Eight what?”
    “That’s okay. I got it,” I said.
    Tony and Carlos