Showing posts with label Mookie. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mookie. Show all posts

Thursday, April 23, 2015

Characters You've Never Heard Of: TOYMAKER

“Seventy-fourt' floor,” The old man Clive announced as the elevator reached the designated level.  “Please enjoy yer stay in de storeroom of de Forbidden Gifts.”

“Okay, we’re looking for a portal," said the boy. "We don’t know what it looks like but we’re pretty sure it’s down here somewhere.  Do you know where it is?  Where we could find it?”

“I’m sorry, but not'ing down 'ere is mapped or catalogued,” Clive said sadly.  “It’s impossible to know wore anyt'ing is fer sure.  Only The Toymaker knows wore evert'ing is."

“What in blue blazes is the Toymaker?”

“De Toymaker used to own dis factory before de fairy queen.  'E made all de guardians, and all de Forbidden Gifts, too.”

“So he just sat around all day making these monstrous things?”

“Oh, no.  Most of what ‘e made was beautiful, and nice, and brought joy and ‘appiness.  ‘e just gave all of dose away.  De t’ings dat ‘e could not give away were left ‘ere.”

“I guess no one wants a bloody pair of human lungs,” Mookie said, sniffing at a very soggy-looking but brightly-wrapped box.

“Actually, an ast’matic would love a pair of fres’, ‘ealt’y lungs,” Clive corrected.  He adjusted his silly hat.  “People asked for all de gifts dat got left down ‘ere, ‘e just couldn’t give dem to dem.  Dat's woy der ‘Forbidden.’”

“So let me get this straight,” the girl said.  “There’s this Toymaker, and people ask him for presents, and he gives them to them just because he can?  Who is he, Santa Claus?”

“Dat’s wot ‘e’s called in some worlds, aye.”

The boy and girl froze.  Mookie looked unimpressed.

“We’re in Santa Claus’ toy factory?” The girl asked.

Formerly ‘is toy factory, aye.  As you already 'eard, he’s not 'ere anymore.”

* * *
The Toymaker is one of the antagonists in "The Revenge of the Sugar Plum Fairy," one of the books I wrote for my family (in case it's not obvious, it's the Christmas-themed one). In this one our heroes (my wife, myself and our pets) end up on a frozen world ruled by an evil fairy queen who has enslaved the true ruler of the world - the aforementioned Toymaker - who on the surface appears to be Santa Claus but turns out is an vile and unrepentant asshole. You see the whole reason he's trapped at the North Pole and forced to give away gifts to bring good to the world is because he's actually a monstrous demon who is being punished for his wickedness. Our heroes have to defeat both the queen and the Toymaker in order to get out of this nightmarish world.


I'm not afraid to say that this is perhaps my favourite thing I've ever written. It's ridiculous and over-the-top and more clever than I can generally imagine myself being. The Toymaker has a pair of bumbling demon lackeys called Sprocket and Wingnut who constantly screw up and get killed in progressively dumber and sillier ways (but are immortal and keep coming back). The reindeer are a bunch of jerk jocks who get into a fight 8 on 1 against the fat orange tabby cat. There's also an epic battle with a kaiju-sized snowman that I won't spoil here. I really am happy with it but it will probably never see the light of day because, again, it's about my wife and I and our talking magic elf cats. 

Oh well. It was still fun to write.

Wednesday, April 15, 2015

Characters You've Never Heard Of: MOOKIE BOOTS

The King was an old man, wizened and more than a little senile.  He was mostly cared for by his beautiful daughter Beatrix, who was just waiting for the old fart to keel over so she could inherit the throne.

Mookie (standing precariously on his hind legs in gaudy red boots) was presented to the king, with Hercules sitting attentively by his side.  The miller's son stood off to the side trying to blend into the ornately ugly wallpaper. The knights showed the king the brace of rabbits the animals had poached.

“You were stealing my bunnies?” asked the king, his voice frail and annoying.

“No, your majesty, they are a gift,” Mookie explained, thinking quickly.
“What?”

“A gift, father,” said Beatrix, sitting at her father’s side.

“Oh, I like presents,” nodded the old man.

“I caught them for you, your majesty, in the name of my master, the Marquis de, um, er, Mill.

“Oh, yes, de Umbermill,” said the king, nodding.  “Fine young fellow.  He’s French, right?”

“Yes, yes, as a croissant in a striped shirt.  He has lands bordering on yours.”

“Really?  What a coincidence.”

“Father,” interrupted Beatrix.  “There are no Umbermill’s with lands bordering ours.”

“Oh, dear, there are so many uprisings and treasonous murders I can’t keep track of everyone.  If he says they have lands I’m sure they do.  Anyway, my good sir, I do appreciate your gift but unfortunately I’m not so fond of rabbits.”

Mookie saw his opening.  “Really?  That’s too bad.  Then what does my liege crave?”

“I am partial to partridges.”

“Consider it done, your majesty.”

“Excellent!”  The king clapped his hands like a giddy little school boy.  “If you can bring me a partridge, I shall reward you handsomely!”

“Father!” snapped Beatrix.  “You can have all the partridges you want!  Why would you…”

“Shut up child before I send you back to the brothel with your mother.”


-from the unpublished short story "Mookie Boots"

* * * 

A play on Puss-in-Boots, Mookie Boots is a cat in my fictional universe where my wife and I travel to other worlds going on all manner of adventures, including fighting goblins and dragons, battling zombies and pirates, dueling faeries and ghosts and matching wits with an evil Santa Claus. Basically all the stories involve us fighting some manner of magical creature with the help of our magical pets.

Mookie is a small black talking elf cat that can cast magic spells. He's a huge jerk but he's our jerk, which is why we keep him around. He's also very handy in a fight and wears red boots, hence the name. His "brother" Sam is a fat orange talking elf cat, who is dumb but kindhearted. We're also joined by our Cavalier King Charles Spaniel Hercules, who can't talk but has supernatural, Incredible Hulk-like strength and can fly.

The story of the five of us has spanned five novels and a half-dozen short stories. I doubt anyone will ever read them besides my family unless I do some major re-writes, but they're there in The Closet and may some day see the light of day.


The real Mookie, my cat that Mookie Boots is based on, passed away suddenly last year after 14 years with our family. We had him from a kitten (a very tiny kitten - the place we adopted him from gave us an undersized runt and told us he probably wouldn't survive) and he traveled with us back and forth across the country and lived with us through many ups and downs. I haven't written any more stories about the animals since then and I don't know if I will. I'm having trouble distancing the "character" Mookie from the "real" Mookie. They kind of exist as the same person in my head now. I'm still waiting for Sam to tell me he misses his brother.



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