Monday, April 4, 2011

Love and Panic at Uncle D’s Olde Fashioned Ice Cream Emporium - 4

The fact that all of Uncle D’s ‘brides’ beared a rather strong resemblance told me that Uncle D or whatever obscene entity was inhabiting him definitely had a type, and she was it. And presumably, next.

The problem is how do you tell someone that yes, the supernatural exists and oh, by the way, it wants to fuck you? Literally. As it turns out, that wasn’t going to be the problem that I thought it was.

“Yes, I know, now don’t fuck it up.”

“I know it’s crazy but…wait, what?”

She shook her head and looked at me like I was maybe the dumbest guy she ever met. Which, admittedly, was entirely possible. I certainly felt like I’d missed some part of the script. She took off her glasses, rubbed her nose and took a deep breathe.

“Sixty years ago, Uncle D was one of a group of occultist cum scientists who tried to impregnate a woman with the seed of the Great God Pan. They got it wrong.”


“The woman they used was, well, we’ll go with unclean and Pan was not amused. He killed everyone else and basically turned Uncle D into his flesh puppet. He started the dairy to try and get a foothold back on Earth.”

“Through the power of milk?”

“It does an evil nethergod good. It also gives him a little bit of control in every person who takes a lick of that ice cream. Every year, inch by inch, he gets a little more of his position in the world back. It’s a slow process, but he’s got nothing but time.”

“So wait, how do you know all this? If all the cultists died?”

“I go to Miskatonic. We know things.”

“So you’re here to…?”

“Become one of Pan’s brides and send him back to the half formed realm of the collective unconscious from which he was summoned.”

“How, exactly?”

“The power of focused unbelief channeled into Pan as he reveals his true form for the, ahem, marriage.”

“You’re going to unbelieve him to death?”

“It’s complicated.”

She put her glasses back on and told me to get the hell out of there and not blow her cover. I didn’t, which is why I was booking it through the labyrinthine fields of fences holding a sex stunned naked intern and being pursued by sex god who was going to rape one or both of us.

“Hey. HEY.”

“What…what happened?”

“You tell me. Your focused unbelief didn’t seem to be working. If he hadn’t gone chasing the cat out of there I’m pretty sure you’d be “married” by now.”

“He’s…he’s substantially more real than I anticipated.”

“Terrific. Do you have any other ideas?”

“Well, you can put me down.”


Running alongside a beautiful naked woman is distracting, but the rape god behind us was an excellent way to concentrate my attention. The last time I had to fight a god, I had the means to control it. Here, I pretty much had the means to die horribly

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