A Birthday for Gertrude

Gertrude finishes another chapter in her book, then carefully folds down the corner of the page to save her place. She turns from the window to see that the Bed & Breakfast's living room was surprisingly empty. There was no sign of Parish, Sal, or anybody else for that matter. The only movement comes from Sal's unusually large goldfish Mojo, who swims in circles in his tank on the front desk.

Gertrude narrows her eyes behind her mask. "Sus," she declares...

Meanwhile, in the kitchen, Parish begins to muster the troops! The tiny frog paces back and forth on the counter, arms behind his back, as he surveys his forces. There’s Amelie, Sal, Hey Kid, the Moon Prince, and a veritable gaggle of guests. Some have been at the Bed & Breakfast for a while and others are new arrivals. A fine party-planning force, to be sure!

"Alright, listen up!" Parish croaks, puffing up his chest. "First, thank you all for volunteering to help plan Gertrude’s surprise birthday party. Of course, the most important part of a surprise party is the element of...well, of surprise. So, nobody mention anything to Gertrude about this!

"We must act swiftly and resolutely to get everything prepared. Once we have chosen a party venue, we will decorate it and make space for plenty of snacks and refreshments. While I work on the cake, you’ll want to go about acquiring and wrapping your gifts for her. And when everything is prepared, the party shall commence! Good luck. Gertrude is counting on us. Let’s not let her down!"

After some debate, the party planners decide on throwing the party in the B&B's piano room. Sal leads the way into the chamber, where a white baby grand piano stands up against one wall. Several overstuffed yet tasteful sofas and other modest furniture pieces are arranged around the room.

"Ah, the old piano room! I almost forgot this place exists, even though it's totally been her the whole time!" Sal says. "Yeah, it's been a minute since I tickled the ol' ivories. Well, it might need some dusting, but it's a good space. Let's get crackin'!" He cracks his knuckles for emphasis.

Alex leans casually against the doorframe of the piano room, arms crossed, her head tucked neatly under one arm. He’s dressed in her signature leather jacket, adorned with patches and a few scorch marks from who-knows-what. A flame flickers faintly in the sockets of his severed neck, casting eerie shadows against the walls.

"I can dig it, baby," Alex drawls, smirking as he places her head back on his shoulders and adjusts it. "A surprise party for Gertrude." She pauses, then continues, "Now who's Gertrude and waddathey like? We can fire up my bike if we need to hit the road to snag the perfect gift. Ain’t a highway I can’t handle. And ain't a birthday party I care to miss." She flips his keys around her finger, then looks around. "And nobody, but nobody, better burn that cake! That’s my job."

At the opposite end of the room, Yola lowers herself into a creaky chair with a soft groan, her many branch-like limbs rustling as she settles in. A faint puff of cigar smoke escapes her leafy canopy as she rests her elbows on an end table and steeples her gnarled fingers together.

"Ooo, a surprise party, will it be?" Yola hums, her voice slow and smooth like honey over warm biscuits. "Well, I can’t think of a better excuse to pour a warm cuppa and celebrate a life well lived. Everyone needs a day to get properly fussed about."

Yola chuckles, then turns to the room. "What shall we do first? Gift gathering? Cake battering? Decor smattering?"

The large rhomboid prism that is the Ptisilith hovers in the kitchen and its glyphs glow and pulse several colors after Parish finishes laying out the plans for the party preparation. The dark grey stone floats into the Piano Room to help with sprucing things up. It manages to generate a light wind from one of its faces and attempts to help sweep the floor.

As it works, it also ponders inexplicably on what gift it might manifest for the victim of the birthday surprise. A low humming can be faintly heard by anyone that passes it by.

A large werewolf with incredible muscle tone bounds around the Piano Room with excitement. Her ripped clothes look similar to the ones Merv was wearing but the alpha introduces herself as Mel Larkin to anyone who asks. "Oooh! I love parties! Especially surprise ones! The look on Gertrude's face when we all jump out and say awrooo will be priceless!" she says with barely contained anticipation of the party. "What about a present though, Mel?! Perhaps a fresh bone still covered in bits of dried meat... No, no. It has to be something SHE would want. And I think I would rather get that for myself," she thinks out loud to herself.

"I might be able to help," a disembodied voice says a moment before Monday the fairy manifests in the piano room. They appear as if from nowhere, with silvery dust swirling around their wings. "There are plenty of gifts for sale in my gift shop, which absolutely has been here the whole time. You'll find the door next to the brick fireplace in the lobby. I have all sorts of knick knacks, gewgaws, tchotchkes, and t-shirts in stock. Surely something there would be the young lady's liking. And who knows, perhaps one of you fascinating newcomers will discover something there that fills your own heart near to bursting!"

The fairy smiles broadly, eyes twinkling like silver stars. "As for myself, I have just the gift in mind for our dear, sweet Gertrude..."

"I'm going to make Gertrude her own custom comic book!" Hey Kid says with a grin. As they begin to scribble on their paper, Dog, Dog, n'Dog cautiously approaches Mel. Their three heads sniff the werewolf curiously, then they sit down and bark happily, tail wagging!

Amelie is happy to see that the giftwrap they ordered arrived at the B&B on time!

They quietly wrap their gifts and quietly decorate. As for the guest they invited…

…they’re not so quiet!

"Hey! Wow! What a shindig! This might be the wildest party I’ve been to, as long as we only count parties appropriate for minors!" They turn to Hey Kid, and add, "By which I mean, the lack of alcoholic beverages will keep this party exactly at the right level of wild, know what I mean? Of course ya don’t, and you don’t wanna know! I don’t wanna know either, so let’s change the topic!"

They salute Parish since he’s old and bossy and good at being old and bossy.

"Gert can count on me, and so can you, gramps!" Since Alex volunteered for cake lighting, Wren says, "Okay… if we got a biker on cake, then a pilot must answer to a higher calling, altitudinally speaking. —by decorating the ceiling! HAAA!"Wren has cotton clouds and rainbow streamers. And they’d like to stick the sun on the light in the center of the room, but such a fancy chandelier looks best as-is.

"Ah! The perfect place for the sun!"

Wren sticks the yellow cardboard sun on the giant floating rock.

They ask Ptisilith, "Is that sunshine in your pocket, or are you just happy—" They glance at Hey Kid, then quickly change course as all great pilots do. "—because who wouldn’t be happy to have a pocket fulla sunshine! HAAAAA!!"

As Dog, Dog, n'Dog approach and sniff at Mel, she smiles a toothy grin and reaches down to scratch behind its ears (making sure to get each head) as the cerberus puppy sits down. Mel's claw jangles the middle head's collar as she takes her hand away. Then Mel sits down on the floor next to Dog, Dog, n'Dog and suddenly pricks her ears up. She looks intently at a blank spot of wall in the Piano Room. She stares and listens - seemingly at nothing - with a serious look on her face.

The Ptisilith doesn't react to Wren placing the sun decoration on it. But once the pilot finishes their joke, the stone erupts in a dancing display of red and yellow and orange lights with an occasional swirl of blue and purple mixed in faintly. The colors ebb away until the stone remains where it has been, grey and humming.

Amelie greets the Moon Prince with a slight curtsy, as a maid is programmed to greet royalty.

They then inform him, "What is going on is a celebration of Gertrude’s birth. Like all holidays, it comes but once a year—"

"Happy Fri-Yay comes every week of the year! HA!"

Ignoring the pilot, Amelie goes on, "And what you are meant to be doing: kindly join us? Perhaps, a gift for the birthday girl?"

Parish looks up at the much, much larger Robin and smiles. "Sure thing, big guy. Why don’t you take the lead on the baking while I whip up an array of hors d’ouerves and a feast of finger foods! Deviled eggs... Pigs in blankets... Seventy-layer bean dip..."

The frog hops off to the other side of the kitchen, leaving Robin to his own devices (for better or worse)!