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Excerpt from Deck the Halls With Balls by Marika Ray:
“If that stupid scientist had just called me back, I wouldn’t be in this mess,” I muttered, thinking back on the three long-winded messages I’d left for the head scientist over at the FART facility. Yeah, that’s right. I did a double take too when I first heard the name for the facility in Auburn Hill. Technically, it was the Fragrance & Aroma Reformulation Testing facility, but that was quite a mouthful. Round here, we just called it FART. Naturally.
Large groups of citizens were still pouring inside the huge white tent in Bennett Park. They set all of us vendors up in large booths on the perimeter, leaving the center of the tent for the tables and chairs and china and crystal. I rushed to top off the cups I had waiting, filled with a paltry half finger of Kombrewcha. I didn’t go as much as eight ounces like Hazel demanded. Figured six would be a nice compromise. Maybe I could come up with a slogan about how you have to sip it, not slam it.
“Good afternoon, Mayor Bennett. Mrs. Bennet.” I nodded to the couple as they strolled by my booth, each grabbing a cup and sipping as they went. A trickle of sweat dripped down my spine. I needed to get on that slogan before anyone else took a cup.
Maybe Made for sipping; this isn’t a frat party. No, too offensive to frat partiers. They were my brothers in spirit. How about Sip that Kombrewcha, or the alcohol will getcha! Dammit. No, that was too preachy and questionable in the rhyming department. Sip, don’t slug or you’ll be sick as a bug. Okay, the slogans were getting worse. I was disappointed in myself. I could do better if there wasn’t so much pressure from a crazed Hazel.
“Kombrewcha. Hmm. Sounds familiar,” a quiet voice said from across my booth. I lifted my gaze, surprised to see a youthful woman dressed in a light blue dress that went to mid-calf, a sweater covering her shoulders. Despite the overly conservative garb, she was pretty. You know, if you liked the nerdy kind of girl. Which I didn’t, not because of how they looked, but because the smart girls always rolled their eyes at me, dismissing me as the idiot I was most of the time.
“Yep, we’re new in town. If you like to combine imbibing with your health goals, we’re your best bet. The health benefits of kombucha and the sanity-restoring characteristics of a beer.” A little long for a slogan, but it would do for now.
One eyebrow winged above her dark glasses, like she wasn’t quite convinced. Then her expression cleared, and she snapped her fingers. “Hey, are you that guy who called my office and left weird messages about bacteria taking over his lifelong dreams?”
I winced, knowing immediately who this woman was. I guess I’d gone a little overboard in my voicemail to the FART scientist, but in my defense, I panicked. If I’d known she was that young and inexperienced, I wouldn’t have sought her help. Not that she gave it to me anyway.
I felt my face heat and hated her for it. “No, sorry, that had to have been my ridiculous brother. I would never do something like that.”
Her smile froze as if she were suspended in time, judging whether or not I was telling the truth. “Will I be taking my life in my hands by sampling the goods?”
Holy hell, bespectacled woman. She offered it up on a silver platter. I had to take the bait, the smirk second nature and uncontrollable. “Oh, you can sample the goods any time, sweetheart. I guarantee an orgasmic result.”