A View Form Above

“Captain…?” Malgastiflorian stopped, his face exposing his confusion. “Of course,” He said, exasperated. “I should have known; I just happened to be stopping some Two-bit Gangsters, named Frick and Zekka from distributing…” he stopped. “It would be better if we just didn’t discuss what it was. Maybe we can shut down the whole blasting operation tonight. We must hurry; come get in my car; we can drive there.”

He drank the rest of his drink in one gulp. “Car?” Frick repeated the word, not sure what he was saying.

Zekka seemed more distracted by the word ‘drive’. Repeating it with the same confusion.

When Malgastiflorian finished his drink, he put the glass down. “I suggest you try the drink; it’s quite scintillating.”

Zekka tried it, but the bitter look on her face told Frick she wasn’t a fan. Frick, however, drank it deeply, pushing through the bitter flavor and experiencing a profoundly natural sweetness as a reward. His own, dear May, would have been very much enjoyed. Malgastaflorian scooted out of the Booth and urged them to follow.

Their clothes had changed; they were wearing well-tailored pinstriped suits. The Hat on his head, however, was a rather smart-looking wide-brimmed Sun hat. When they went outside the tavern, things were different. The trees were sparse, and the water was a slave kept in pipes. Everything was made of different kinds of flat stone. There were large windows everywhere; some had the light of the sun coming out of them, even though the moon hung in the sky. Frick noticed this before the giant metal contraption. Malgastaflorian turned around and said, “This is the car.” He opened the door and looked at them. “No, no, no, that won’t do. Frick would never wear a hat like that. Zekka maybe, But Frick would be laughed at.” He remembered the last time May said how much she loved him and how much he meant to her.

“I promise I’ll be safe.” He said he was taking off the hat and handing it to Zekka.

“I’ll be sure to keep her safe; it’s not like anyone knows that May is a hat,” she said, putting it on. She looked twenty years younger, and twice as beautiful. She looked at a tree and asked, “What’s a gun?”

“It’s a weapon; why do you ask?” Malgastaflorian asked.

“I know what a duck is, the trees said, ‘Gun. Duck.’” A loud ‘BANG’ came from nowhere, shattering the glass on the car door window, narrowly missing Malgastaflorian’s chest as he quickly moved out of the way. “You’ll never get a piece of the sourdough gang. You’re a dead man, Mal,” he leapt into the front seat with a youthful exuberance Zekka or Frick had never seen before. After quickly retrieving a small bit of metal and jamming it into the wheel In front of him, a roar like a dragon said something was going to happen. The shriek of a demon moved them rapidly across the stone laid out in front of them.

“What are you doing?” Zekka shouted over the hum of the metal beast they were in.

“Getting out with extreme haste, it’s a horseless carriage with the power of thousands horses under its hood.”

“Hood?” Frick repeated the question. Malgastiflorian pointed to the front of the car, leaving Frick lost.

“You’re probably going to have to fill us in on your plans, and any other eccentricities of this place.” Wise words, from a wise woman. Zekka smiled broadly. “Your wife is a pleasure, Frick. You should be grateful to have her in your life.”

“Don’t you two team up on me.” Frick looked annoyed. It was Zekka’s favorite disposition: “So, Mal, What do we need to know?”

“Well, they call you Paul here. Frick is a euphemistic term for a rather pleasant act, often used unkindly,” he paused, shrugging. “I don’t know if I fully understand. Just know your name is Paul.” He wasn’t looking at them, choosing to pay attention to his task of controlling the car. “Zekka is affectionately called Zek, and you are married.”

“Married.” Zekka said it in disbelief. Showing a polite deference to the hat on her head.

Frick Laughed obnoxiously. “Of Course we are, aren’t we, honey?” She smiled a Wry Smile. “No matter how charming and handsome you are, I will not betray my dear friend,” she said, kissing his cheek.

“You know I love my wife, and I have never made advancements towards another woman since we got married.” He looked deeply into Zekka’s Eyes, but he was talking to mainly to May.

Zekka took off the hat for a moment and whispered, “Can she read my mind?”

“No, but taking off the hat and whispering has done nothing; she is still there, listening.” Zekka apologized, putting the hat back on.