Monster of the Day #3253

Well, since ‘The Flintstones’ were based on ‘The Honeymooners’ what if ‘The Munsters’ were based on it too? I can see Herman Munster driving a bus.

Yes, I’ve seen that and it’s pretty great.

Tired of it! I insist on more! This is the best original entertainment of 2021 I’ve seen/heard/read. Take that how you want to, but it’s true.

Small note here: When I started this little series out, I had no plan in mind, which is obvious when you read them back to back. I started it as a goof, then to practice the “voices” I had intended (and still do intend) for another story I want to write. The only real rule I had for myself was that the cover I was writing about happened (after a fashion), but not necessarily as the cover suggested. Subverting expectations, in other words, if I might be excused reminding people of other, more irritating works.

We rejoin our Heroes not long after the Snow Witch’s all too certain demise.
* * *
“That was the most horrible thing I’ve ever seen,” Wally said as they reached the top of the stairs. “And after what I’ve seen the past few nights, that’s saying something.”

Mr. D nodded, patting Wally on the back as they made their way up the last remaining steps of the mausoleum. “The canine is the most terrible of creatures. Especially that one.”

“Towards the end, I almost felt sorry for that great bony monster. The noises it made…”

“The way the bones crackled in Fifi’s jaws…”

They both shuddered.

“Ah, come on, fellas,” Bunny said, throwing her arms around both Wally and Mr. D. “We done good and it’s time ta celebrate. Why don’t we all…”

Her voice trailed off. Her hands slid down to her sides and her gait, once bouncy, slowed to a halt.

For on the other side of the mausoleum’s front doors was the all too familiar yellow and black of the AfterLife Taxi Cab.

“Actually,” Mr. D said, turning towards Bunny. His skeletal face was as devoid of emotion as ever, but somehow it managed to look wistful. Perhaps even sad. “It’s time for a leave-taking.”

“So soon?”

“The Land of the Certainly Dead has been deprived of the AfterLife Taxi Service for long enough.”

“But we never got th’ tires!”

“The tires have been attended to, as the presence of the cab proves.”

“But… But that dead guy we found! We never found out whodunit, or why he had that tattoo from th’ cult of Aron or Aaron or whatever ya said!”

Mr. D shrugged his bony shoulders. “All irrelevant. Though were I to guess he was delivering a message that the Snow Queen or her…” He hesitated, as if searching for the right word. Whatever that word was, the word he used he flooded with contempt as he said it, “employer didn’t want known.”

“But… But I just got Wally where I want ‘im.” Bunny made an uncharacteristically feeble gesture in the young man’s direction. “Could we stay fer a week or so more? Or a night? I’ll take an hour, I ain’t greedy.”

Wally stepped next to Bunny, putting his arm around her waist. “I know I probably don’t have the right to ask, Mr. D, but couldn’t an exception be made? Just this once?”

Mr. D shook his head, that strange sadness replaced with something more akin to exasperation. “The two of you are quite brave, but I swear you don’t have a brain between you.”

“What?”

“Bunny, think. In order for you to help out with this matter I had to bring you back to life. The Land of the Certainly Dead is with few exceptions for the Certainly Dead. Therefore, as you don’t meet these exceptions…”

The light dawned, the penny dropped, and Bunny for one glorious instant caught on to something before Wally. “I can’t go back?”

“Not yet, at any rate.”

“But that’ll mean yer gonna be alone again!”

“I hope so. I worked too hard these past few nights keeping the two of you alive to see you again so soon. However, when you do cross over again, in, say, sixty years or so? I hope you might consider working for me again.”

He turned towards Wally, and for the first time the young man didn’t feel a bit of the old dread about the specter. “The offer extends to you too, Mr. Tillinghast, should you want it. I think this little brouhaha might have given me enough clout with the New Management to get me another cab.”

“I think I might like that.” Wally stepped away from Bunny and offered Mr. D his hand. “It’s been a pleasure.”

Mr. D took the offered hand. “Strangely enough it has.”

Bunny hadn’t moved from her spot, her frown still in place. “Ya planned all of this out, didncha? Th’ tires poppin’ when I was practicin’, Wally bein’ on th’ mountain when we got there, all of it. Played us both like puppets on a string.”

“No,” Mr. D. said, chuckling. “Oh, I won’t deny meddling here and there, and yes I might have thought myself the puppet master a time or two, but this isn’t at all what I intended. Still, I’m satisfied with this conclusion. Aren’t you?”

“Shore.” Bunny leaped forward and hugged Mr. D. Which, at the speed she was going, happened to be a mistake. Skeletal frames a comfortable squeeze do not make. “Ow!”

Mr. D. sighed. “Sixty years might be asking too much, but do at least try.”

He came as close to kissing her head as he ever possibly could before heading over to the cab. He paused after opening the door, as if trying to think of one last bit of wisdom to impart. Perhaps he gave it up as a lost cause on those two, for all he did was wave, then get in behind the driver’s seat.

The AfterLife Taxi cab’s engine revved. As it did, Wally saw something strange in the back seat. What it was he couldn’t say, beyond it wasn’t just evil or Evil with a capital E, but EVIL, all caps, bold, italics and underlined. He wanted to scream out, warn Mr. D. of the danger, but before the words could form the cab vanished with a pop.

The two were alone in the necropolis.

Wally looked down at Bunny, to see if she’d seen the EVIL too. But it was clear she hadn’t. Instead, she only had eyes for him. “So,” she said. “Whatever are we gonna do next?”

“What aren’t we going to do,” he replied, not quite meaning what she was meaning.

“Sound good.” The two of them started walking off towards more pleasant localities. “Though I’m hopin’ a proposal ain’t too long the makin’. I ain’t getting’ any younger, ya know.”

“Definitely,” Wally said, really not thinking what he was saying. “But maybe not for a month or so. I think Popsy and Mumsy might need a bit to acclimatize to you.”

“Ah nah, nothin’ doin’. There won’t be any climbing or tying this foxy gal. I ain’t inta that sorta thing.”

“Yep,” Wally said, nodding to himself. “They’re definitely going to need time to get used to you.”

And so the two went off into the night, heading to whatever lay ahead for them. It might be good, it might be bad, but it was theirs.

That’s the important part.

As I’m sure Jules de Grandin would say:

“Splendide!, Glorieux! Magnifique!!!’