“Ah-ha!” Roxy shouted through the pane. “I caught you red-handed! Whatever you’re planning, you won’t get away with it!”
I was too busy cringing from the uncomfortableness she created from her intrusion to manufacture a response- not even a terrible one! Phoebe looked alarmed but frozen, and the rest of the current occupants seemed too bewildered to provide a strong reaction. Well, at least until Uncle Chester gently addressed her, “My dear, you’ve gotta let it go! Mister Fenmore is getting married to this lovely lady whether you like it or not, and there’s nothing you can do to stop them from tying the knot! Please, accept that!”
Roxy’s visage contorted into perplexion. “What?”
I didn’t want Roxy to correct his misimpression or divulge anything about the paranormal pest she was infatuated with, but I couldn’t fathom what I could tell her that would convince her to leave us alone either. Fortunately, Miriam appeared to have had a trick up her sleeve! She grabbed a couple of scented candles from the coffee table and conveyed in a low voice, “If she’s as airheaded as Blaise, I know exactly how to drive her away!” She went outside, turned back to me, and announced, “I’m gonna go place these candles for the… thing!”
Miriam walked in a trance-like manner, and Roxy badgered her, “Wait, what are you up to? Did you unearth a way to destroy his spirit? Is this a ritual? Quit ignoring me!”
They exited our vision, and I surveyed our guests to discern whether or not they could let this bout of abnormality go. They were all rather spooked, but no one said anything as they absorbed what just transpired. Eventually, Great Aunt Mildred opined, “That girl’s off her rocker!”
“You can say that again!” I concurred with sentiments without an ounce of dishonesty.
“Alright!” Raphael resumed his work after we all had a good chuckle. “About your venue… What about that park I saw down the street?”
Phoebe shook her head. “Oh, no! It… um…” She gazed at me with her eyes pleading for assistance in completing that sentence, but I was lost too. We once fought Damon in his vampiric form there, and his more competent henchmen nearly killed us in his poorly operated Halloween attraction. We didn’t want the happiest day of our life to be at a site that could have been the last day of our life! Granted, the otherworldly organization failed due to Damon’s incompetence, which was pretty amusing, but still, it wasn’t something we wanted to contemplate during the festivities!
Luckily, we were spared from coming up with a rationale for that by my dad’s inference, “Ah, is there a lot of crime there?”
Phoebe and I confirmed that with a little too much enthusiasm. Raphael raised an eyebrow at that, but he chose to move on, “Okie dokie, we’ll stick to indoor locations…”
“Ooh! I can probably get you a discount at the Arioch!” Mara piped in. “The manager totally has the hots for me- he’ll do anything I ask him to do, and I do mean anything!”
“Nope! Veto that!” I refused that notion. “We’re not doing it there after what you did!”
Mara clicked her tongue impatiently. “Oh, come on! No one is gonna know an adult movie was filmed there unless they’re a fan, and then they’ll get excited to see it!”
Man, I thought it was awkward when Roxy interrupted our meeting! Raphael and my relatives had completely stunned faces, and I informed Mara, “Yeah… I was gonna leave that part out and stick to your attempt at talking me out of my underwear…”
“Oh!” Mara truly looked embarrassed by that memory. “Sorry about that! I-!”
“Please, don’t!” I requested. “Are you really going to feign remorse to elicit an affair with me again? You just did that a few minutes ago!”
Raphael made a bid to return to business, “Do you frequent any houses of worship or-?”
Rezart stated, “My solar plexus chakra is off!”
Rowen hushed him, “Not now!”
As Raphael threw out more suggestions for spots we could use for our nuptials, I grew curious about what the heck a solar plexus chakra was, so I glanced over at Rezart. He was clutching his stomach, and a part of me wondered why he didn’t use a more common term to describe his tummy ache all along. The other part of me got reminded of Cricket’s recent digestive issues, but it seemed impossible for both to have originated from the same source! After all, Mrithan or anyone else from the school who would’ve slipped the Rainbow Tektites into something he consumed wasn’t there! …Unless they went somewhere before they came here… I peered past the bangs covering his forehead to be sure, and…
“Refreshments!” I yelled as I abruptly leapt up. Everyone stared at me peculiarly, and I could hardly blame them! Subtlety was never my strong suit! I more graciously picked a bottle of wine at the table and offered it to everyone, “Who wants a drink?”
“That looks cheap!” Great Aunt Mildred observed.
I affirmed, “It is. So, you don’t want any?”
She held up a glass to me and instructed, “If that’s all you got, go ahead and pour!”
“Uh, doesn’t that mix with your medication?” Uncle Chester probed.
“Swimmingly!” she certified as I served her a generous amount.
I gave some to my parents, but Phoebe declined. My mom got a gleam of hope on her face, and Phoebe apprised her, “Don’t get too excited! I have IBS, not a baby!”
My mother insisted, “You can have both!”
“How about some for my best man?” I attempted to hide the desperation in my tone- this was an essential part of my plan, and if he told me no, I didn’t know what I would’ve done!
“Is it organic?” Rowne asked.
I pretended to read the label, and I purposely pushed it away from his view as I answered, “Yes.” I felt slightly guilty for possibly lying, but a little bit of inorganic spirits wouldn’t have done any actual damage to him, right? I began to hand Rowen the cup, but then…
As I passed the wine to Rowen over the rail that separated the living room and the dining room, my wrist jerked and spilled a small portion of merlot on Rezart! Well, I intended to distribute a small potion, but it was a lot more than I thought it would be! Oops! Nonetheless, I could proceed with my strategy to combat the latest development in this saga as I originally had in mind. “Oh my goodness! I’m so sorry! I’ve got some stuff to clean you up in the bathroom…”
“It’s in the laundry room!” Phoebe corrected me as I dashed to the sofa and yanked Rezart off of it prior to anyone getting a thorough inspection of him.
“No, it’s in the bathroom…” I disputed as I aimed his peepers in her direction.
When Phoebe beheld the kaleidoscope hue radiating from his irises, she changed her tune, “Oh, of course! It is in the bathroom! I better help you with that… laundry!”
Preceding my escape from the lower quarter, Mara stood in front of the steps leading upwards and confronted me, “Hold on! I have to get something off of my chest!”
“Please, keep your shirt on!” I requested. I strove to push past her, but…
“Uh-huh! You’re gonna hear me out!’ Mara fumed.
She blocked my path, and my anxiety over the dilemma got heightened. I couldn’t foresee how long the group could go without accidentally uttering the trigger to initiate an interdimensional trip, and the longer the delay for our departure from the room, the more likely it became that my family, close friends, and Mara would wind up on another dangerous misadventure! I had to act quickly to spare them of this jeopardy! “Can’t this wait?” I didn’t imagine that would work, but I had to try, didn’t I?
Mara bellowed, “No, you need to listen! Not only did you brush me off when I was sincerely seeking your forgiveness, but you didn’t even offer me any wine!”
“Here!” I handed her the rest of it and prayed that this would suffice.
“It’s too late now!” Mara tossed the potable onto the couch, and then she seethed, “You’ve shown your true colors!”
I brusquely regarded her, “Alright, alright! I forgive you! Now, please excuse me as I wash off the alcohol I threw on a child! …On accident! I gotta go!”
Since it was an emergency, I pushed her aside without any regrets! Okay, maybe I felt a little because I tend to overthink like that, but anyway… We were nearly in the clear, but then Mara vociferated, “I’ll tell you where you can go! You can go to-!”
“Eighties Days!” I interjected.
“Eighties Days! Eighties Days! Eighties Days!” Rezart chanted.
Phoebe put her hands on her hips and gave me a reproachful stare, so I defended my actions, “What? Would you have rather gone back to Hell?”
My father wondered, “What do you mean, back?” Preceding my response (not that I had one!), the vortex manifested above us and sucked us into its depths.
“Oh, god! Where are we?” my mom queried as she frantically searched around the arcade we landed in. She espied her husband’s new ‘do, and she shrieked, “Oh, god! The mullet is back!”
“I thought you liked the mullet!” my dad responded to her.
My mother smiled guiltily. “I liked you!”
I recalled seeing photos of my mom with a short, curly mane like that in the past, and it brought back some nostalgia. Our outfits didn’t appear that different than they were a few seconds ago, but some of our accessories were altered to blend in. They were big and colorful, and it was quite refreshing from the drabness we donned previously. Phoebe’s locks were exceedingly volumized, and I found it very becoming. “Why don’t we just stay here?” I suggested.
“Pass!” Phoebe refused. She sniffed the air around her and crinkled her nose. “What the heck did they put in this hairspray?”
“Ick! I feel so cringe in these cheugy clothes! It’s so mid! No cap!” Rezart complained.
A bunch of teens passed by and heard that, and one of them commented, “Righteous! Homeboy’s illing with his own language! Totally tubular!” Rezart ogled him in confusion as the bunch headed out.
Uncle Chester, who now bore a terrible combover, approached me and pressed, “Connor, what in the f was in that wine?”
“Good afternoon!” Damon, who was dressed similarly to the famous villain David Bowie once portrayed in a fantasy flick, snickered as he materialized on a couple of pinball machines. “Welcome to nineteen-eighty-six!”
“Wonderful! I’m gonna go make out with Tom Selleck while he’s still single!” Great Aunt Mildred, who was clad in a flashy, Golden Girls’ type of duds, began to shuffle off.
Mara, who resembled a Valley Girl who partied too hard, scoffed at that concept, “Psh! Can you believe she’s going after a guy she has no chance with? The nerve of some people!” She nestled into my side, and I grimaced.
Phoebe furiously declared, “You’re dead, you bimbo!”
Prior to my fiancé getting her mesh gloves around her sister’s neck, Damon interposed, “Um hello? Arch nemesis here! I thought you cared about saving your stupid planet!” Everyone unwillingly ceased their activity and paid attention to him. “That’s better! Alright, your mission today: bring me the Gold Jellybeans!”
“Ooh! Why does that sound so familiar…?” Raphael contemplated this idea.
“Uh… It’s not! There’s nothing significant about them whatsoever…” Damon glanced around shiftily.
I studied him in suspicion. “Hmm…. Okay, I can’t figure it out! What’s the horrible catch in obtaining these things?”
Damon clearly fibbed, “None at all!” Nobody believed him, so he changed tactics, “It doesn’t matter! You only have a limited time, so before it’s too late, you got to-!”
“Sir! You’re not allowed to lay on the equipment!” an attendant barked at Damon.
“Sorry!” Damon slid off, and then he groaned, “Ugh! Wedgie! These tight pants are not comfortable!” He caught sight of our entertained expressions, and he growled, “Laugh while you can! This isn’t going to be the campy, optimistic experience you’re envisioning! I’m about to ruin this decade for you, and you may not make it back to the modern one!” He broadcasted a maniacal cackle as he disappeared. Actually, towards the end, we heard him striving to adjust his underpants, which sort of ebbed our apprehension over this task.
Sort of. Everybody stood in a shocked silence for a moment, and eventually, Rowen spoke up, “My third eye is going nuts! Did that goblin just say that the fate of the world rests on us getting some jellybeans? Why does this dream feel so real?”
I counseled him, “Don’t sweat it! Yes, the fabric holding together the universe may get torn if we get killed by the monsters guarding those jellybeans, but…” I wasn’t certain how to reframe this perilous quest so that it sounded less daunting, but before I could even make an attempt to conjure up anything…
Screaming emanated from outside! We peeked through the window, and we were relieved to behold a series of rides along a shoreline. “Oh, this is Santa Monica! We considered coming here as a cheaper honeymoon,” Phoebe filled the others in. She and I gingerly stepped out, and she encouraged everyone else, “It’s not so bad! Come on!”
They hesitantly emerged. Initially, it seemed like we were destined to enjoy a beautiful day, but then we encountered something that propelled Raphael to exclaim, “Girl, please don’t honeymoon here!”
My Stories 
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