Friday’s here and Friley wants to party. Friley the Elf, that is. It’s Oscar night, and the after parties in this modern So-Cal fantasy setting are rockin’. Hope you enjoy this flash fiction I wrote a few years ago. It’s cute, it’s fun. It’s embarrassing…for Friley!
Party on and have a great weekend. - Lyn Perry
Friley the Elf’s Big Night
We could hear the band pumpin’ three blocks away! That’s how far we’d had to park. The upscale neighborhood streets were packed with party goers and we were all streaming to the same Mythical 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 by the extravagance. Music was blaring, creatures were dancing, the pool was packed. Three fully staffed cabanas were serving up free food and drinks.
We caught sight of some famous actors who actually waved at us when they caught us staring. Any-gnome who was any-gnome was there!
“Wow, Oliver Ogre sure knows how to throw a party!” Briley had to nearly shout for me to hear her. That band was blastin’ it!
“Ya got that right,” I yelled as we followed a group of revelers around the pool. “Tommy and the Trolls! Maybe we can meet some of the band members later.”
I thought I yelled it loud enough for my BFF cousin to hear, but Briley just grinned and said, “Yeah, they’re tight!”
A waiter passed us with tray of ’shrooms and champagne. I grabbed two of each and handed Briley hers. We downed those drinks and grabbed two more. We’d compete until dawn, but I had a feeling neither of us would see the sun come up.
It was time for Briley and Friley to shine so brightly. I giggled at the thought.
Oh man, I was only on my second glass of fizzy and already I was half sloshed.
“Let’s sit over there and watch the action,” Briley said, cupping her free hand to my ear.
We made our way to a grassy spot near the hot tub. A few tables and chairs were set up in random fashion. Dozens of guests mingled in the mogul’s backyard.
It was a beautiful Southern California evening and spirits were high. Gnomes, trolls, sprites, and elves were making merry and inhibitions were quickly shed as mythies danced with one another, mesmerized by the beat of the band.
At the table next to us, a slovenly ogre pulled the legs off a grasshopper and plopped them into his mouth. The grasshopper’s head still twitched and he held it up by its antennas. The ogre stuck out his tongue and licked the small, crisp body, vacuuming it onto his tongue while wrapping his lips around the helpless creature.
I grimaced. With a crunch and a suck, the uncouth creature pinched the head right off and swallowed the torso of his h’ordeuvre. The dead grasshopper’s head landed back on his plate with a plink! The ugly ogre licked each of his twelve fingers in turn and went to work on another fresh, green delicacy.
Both Briley and I shuddered and looked around at the rest of the crazy crowd. It took all kinds, I supposed.
I leaned close to Briley and yelled, “So where is Oliver the Stone Ogre, by the way? I’ve been dying to meet him!”
The band stopped right as I screamed my head off.
I heard some loud quacks and sniggers and turned to stare at the group next to us. The disgusting mythical who’d just finished his fifth or sixth grasshopper got up and headed to the hot tub. His friends followed with more hoots and howls of laughter.
He grabbed a glass of champagne from a passing waiter and lifted it in my direction as a toast. Our evening’s host said, “Friley the Elf! I’ve been dying to meet you, too!”
His cronies guffawed and slapped each other’s backs. Just as Oliver stepped to the pool, he let his silk pajama robe drop to the ground.
“Oh, and by the way, you and Briley can join us in the hot tub any time. Clothing optional!”
I closed my eyes and wished for Elysium.
Friley the Elf’s Big Night © 2014 by Lyndon Perry
(Above image by Wolfgang Orthgieß from Pixabay.)
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