Now the rejection. I'd sent EDF another odd little flash piece called, "I Just About Died!" It's a fantasy where gnomes, fairies, all that, are just living normal lives. I thought it fun, but it might have been too cutesy for them. I'll let you decide. ;) Here it is! (Feel free to comment.)
"I Just About Died!" by Lyndon Perry
We could hear the band pumpin’ three blocks away! That’s how far we’d had to park. The neighborhood streets were packed with party goers and we were all streaming to the same Hollywood mansion.
I’d scored a pair of tickets to one of the Fantasy Oscars after-parties and since my Elf cousin Briley just happened to be in town—we’re talking timing, right?—she begged to go along. Since I didn’t have a real date, I gave in.
“Just don’t embarrass me,” I told her as we made our way to the guarded estate. I was hoping to catch a glimpse of the famous producer Oliver the Stone Ogre, the host of tonight’s blowout.
“Friley, grrl! You SoCal Mythicals sure know how to rock,” she said as we handed over our invites to a couple of Goblin bouncers who eyed us up and down like we were some Pixie tramps from the Valley.
After we followed the crowd around back, we just stopped and stared, blown away. Music was blaring, creatures were dancing, the pool was packed. Three cabanas were serving up free food and drinks. Any Mythical who was Anyone was there.
“Wow, Oliver’s the best! This party must have cost a fortune.” Briley had to nearly shout for me to hear her, the band was jamming so loud.
“You got that right,” I yelled as we followed a group of revelers around the lit-up pool to the outdoor stage. “Tommy and the Trolls! How did he book this gig? Do you think he knows them personally?”
I cupped my hands to be heard, but Briley just grinned and shouted back, “Yeah, they’re tight!”
A waiter passed us with a tray of ’shrooms and champagne. I grabbed two of each and handed my cousin hers. I shouted once more, “Where is Oliver, by the way? I so want to meet him!”
The band stopped right as I screamed my head off.
Loud quacks, snorts, and sniggers erupted from behind me and I turned to stare at a group of Gnomes, Ogres, and Trolls toasting me from the hot tub.
In the middle of the gang must have been Oliver, who said, “Friley the Elf! I’ve so wanted to meet you too!” His cronies gave out some hoots and howls. “Join us in the tub. Clothing optional!”
I closed my eyes and wished for Elysium.