Unicorn Farts

The centaur put them down on a chair, facing each other, a wooden table was between them.

"What can I offer you, boys? Coffee? Tea? Or maybe some ale? A dinner perhaps?" The centaur offered. "Huckleberry is what they call me and I run this inn. Forgive me about my friend earlier. He's been a bit touchy lately. Somebody stole his horn ornaments. You know, just him being the unicorn that he was. He also complained how people would sneak into his den while he's asleep to catch his fart, put them in a special jar and sell them."

Diego, having heard about unicorns a long time ago, only rolled his eyes. But it was George's first time. Quite obvious with how his eyes twinkled and how they slowly turned into that of disgust.

"People sell… farts?" He asked, unbelieving.

Diego rolled his eyes again. He felt pity for George. 'This poor guy is so innocent,' he thought. But of course, he just assumed George was innocent when it couldn't be any further than the truth.

He came to this conclusion after listening to George's childhood summary. How he wasn't allowed to get outside the villa and take off his gloves with all the self loathing bla bla bla. Unaware that George used to sneak out with his aunt, Lucia, to pull pranks on people. His cousins, Ethan and Nathan would help him put on his disguise but this will be a story for another time. For now, let's focus on the problem at hand.

"They sure do. And they're very expensive." Huckleberry replied. Putting emphasis on the word 'very'.

"But why? What for?"

"Ugh! Women. They like to put it in cosmetics believing unicorn farts will make them beautiful when all it does is make them look like a horse." Huckleberry grumbled as he put down plates of roasted sausages and cherry tomatoes on their table.

"They pay a lot to look like a horse?" George asked in surprise. He remembered how his aunt shaved her brows only to draw curly fake ones with a pencil liner. It became a trend in Bonaville once upon a time. The more curves you have on your brows the prettier. He could write a whole page of essay about how he finds it comical watching girls with thin, curly brows. Some even have them in neon. The one that glows in the dark. His stomach would hurt laughing whenever he sees one.

"No, dear. They didn't think they looked like a horse at all. You see, unicorns. They're beautiful and are very proud of it. They flaunt their beauty whenever they get the chance. They'd ride on rainbows so people would look at them. And their farts? It makes people hallucinate. Makes them want to see what they wanna see. Women think their skin clears up, their lashes grow, their lips kissable. But it's all just up here," Huckleberry pointed to his head.

George suddenly felt pity for the women. They just wanna be pretty! And to the unicorns too. He finds the thought of strangers sneaking into his bedroom to catch his fart very scandalizing.

Meanwhile, Diego wanted to rip his ears off and scrub them squeaky clean.

Well, let's just say he didn't mix well with unicorns. After that one incident in the past, he didn't want anything to do with them for the rest of his life.

***

At the land of the living in the small city of Bonaville. Half past six in the north east where acres upon acres of rice fields can be found.

Inside an abandoned shack under the dying mango tree. An old woman who wore an old tattered gray robe was stirring a cauldron over an open fire. It was Aurore. Bubbling green slimy liquid was in it. It spurted acidic slimes from time to time, melting whatever it touches.

Then Aurore pulled an old book from her bag. The book didn't have any title but inside it were countless spell incantations. She rented this from the Sisterhood Association for Witches, SAW in short.

She opened it on page sixty nine. Then she raised her arm as she read the specific line on the page. "Pangitius! Amogusfrutos!" Then she threw the weird dust she found at the Elmwood Drive into the cauldron. Then followed by her two dowsing rods.

The cauldron exploded. Green, pungent smoke covered the whole shack.

She coughed and coughed and her throat turned sore.

Tifati sighed. Becoming more convinced Aurore lacks any semblance of common sense by the second. Then she clicked her tongue. Aurore ignored her.

And when the smoke died down, the slime had all evaporated. There was nothing left on the cauldron except for the two dowsing rods that were thrown in earlier.

Ooooooooong

They were vibrating.

Aurore picked them up and held each rod with each of her hands.

The dowsing rods started shaking and spinning. Then the turning stopped, both rods pointing in one direction. Telling her where to go. Telling her where to find who they're looking for.

***

"Aunt Lucia. Can you tell me why we're here again?" Owen asked. They were at the Bonaville North Cemetery.

Lucia told him they are going to bring back his brother but his aunt brought him to the cemetery instead.

'Don't tell me George started sleeping on graves?' Owen thought. He felt pity for his younger brother and became determined to bring him back no matter what. But Lucia shattered his determination on the spot as she began kicking the gate.

"Hey! Come out!" She yelled as she continued to kick the gate.

Nothing happened.

'Obviously! What is Aunt Lucia thinking? Why did father even entrusted this to her?'

She kicked the gate again. Still, nothing happened. So she picked a mud from the ground, squeezed it into a ball, and threw it at the statue of an old man chugging a bottle of beer, wearing an oversized robe.

"Aun—" Owen tried to stop her but Lucia cut him off.

"If you ain't coming out, I'll steal your place and give it to Kawali. You don't want that do you? Now come out!"

And sure enough. Something did happen.