That Afternoon When Quaraun Got Stuck In a Crab Trap

That Afternoon When Quaraun Got Stuck In a Crab Trap

Noodle Beach was quiet today. The tide was coming in. Fog clung to the white pines like a death shroud. Beyond Noodle Beach, Silent Moor hissed with the whispers of ghost clams.

BoomFuzzy, King of The UnSeelie Court, found much more joy in fishing, clam digging, and cooking, then he did in running a government, and had, as he often did this time of day, left his Goblin servants to take over governing duties, to sneak out and spend the morning fishing and clam digging. Though first, he had set out several crab traps at low tide, all along the deep end of the tidal pools of Noodle Beach.

He had left Quaraun napping in their pink silk tent, and had expected to spend the quiet, relaxing, peaceful day of clam digging, without Quaraun tagging along and griping and complaining about mud and sun every step of the way. Though Quaraun hated the mud, he insisted on tagging along to supervise, citing that as King Gwallmaiic’s Royal Court Mage and Advisor, it was his job to advise the king in everything, even things Quaraun knew nothing about, like clam digging, or trout fishing, or crab trapping.

BoomFuzzy didn’t often get the chance to partake of his hobby of being a fishermen without Quaraun tagging along and bitching every step of the way, so the moment he had noticed Quaraun had fallen asleep, BoomFuzzy immediately left the tent, set his crab traps, and set out into the marsh to fill his buckets with clams. BoomFuzzy whistled, as he filled buckets with cockles and cursed lobsters that bit him.

After several relaxing hours of hiding in the clam flats, dodging his kingly duties of signing boring paperwork, he decided to return to the tidal pools of Noodle Beach to check on his crab traps.

The Faerie king was returning to Noodle Beach, from Silent Moor, when his court mage, Quaraun, silly Elf that he was, found a new way to get himself into trouble.

Quaraun, foolish and curious, had wandered from his pink silk tent, pitched on the dunes, toward the tidepools. He saw a glimmer. A sparkle. A Twinkie wrapper. It floated in the brine. He reached for it.

Slip.

Snap.

Boom.

Splash.

He had slipped from the rocks into the tide and fallen into one of BoomFuzzy’s crab traps. It clanged shut behind him.

“Unicorn!” Quaraun howled. “Help! I am imprisoned!”

Hearing Quaraun’s cries, BoomFuzzy sauntered over, peered through the bars, and burst out laughing.

“Aye, well, looky here. Caught meself a mighty fine pink crab today.”

“I am not a crab and you know it,” Quaraun said.

“Well, ye look delicious in there and I do be the Elf Eater, eh? Maybe I’ll cook me up an Elf Chowder with a side of steamed clams, seeing how’s there ain’t no crabs in me trap.”

“Just get me out of this thing.”

“How’d ya get in it?”

“I saw a Twinkie, I thought Glinta would want it.”

“Aye, that were me bait. Tied it to the trap to lure in the crabs. Didnae expect to lure in an Elf.”

BoomFuzzy was about to release Quaraun from his predicament, when just at that moment, a passing fisher-trader offered BoomFuzzy a steaming lobster roll in exchange for the trapped Elf.

“Ya want to trade a lobster roll for an Elf?”

“Elves are mighty rare.”

“I know it. This be the last one. What makes ya think a lobster roll is a fair trade?”

“Got it off that food truck up yonder there,” the Human said, pointing to BoomFuzzy’s 1968 robin egg blue creme` coat VW 23 window Kombi Bus food truck.

BoomFuzzy considered.

Then sniffed the roll.

“Is that… mayonnaise?”

“Aye.”

BoomFuzzy drew his obsidian dagger.

“No one mayonnaise me Elf.”

At the sight of the dagger the Human dropped the sandwich and ran. BoomFuzzy bent down and picked up squashed sandwich.

“Fuckin’ Goblins,” he muttered. “I told them to sign the stack of executive orders for me, not open the food truck and drown me perfectly steamed lobster meat with condiments.”

Just then GhoulSpawn came from the lighthouse, he was about to say something when he noticed Quaraun.

“Quaraun, what are you doing in a cage?” the big Satyr asked.

“Waiting for Unicorn to get done perfecting recipes, long enough to let me out.”

“Oh.”

“What are you doing down here?”

“Uhm… I forgot. Why did I come out here?” Just then GhoulSpawn noticed the Twinkie. “Hey! There’s a Twinkie!” he yelled as he reached towards it, but slipped on the kelp and went crashing into the water on top of Quaraun, shattering the crab trap as he did.

“Got it!” GhoulSpawn called as he held the soggy yellow sponge cake over his head.

BoomFuzzy roared with laughter.

The Human was chased away.

The crab trap was smashed.

The lobster roll obliterated.

Quaraun, soaked and furious, swore never to leave his pink silk tent again. He would be back here tomorrow.

Achievement Unlocked: Mayonnaise-Based Morality

• +1 Rusty Crab Trap of Existential Containment: Contains guilt, shame, and at least two crabs. Added to inventory.
• +1 Lobster Roll of Unholy Mayonnaise: Forbidden sandwich. Explodes if tasted by Scottish undead. Added to inventory.
• BoomFuzzy’s Trust Issues Increased to Level 4, +10 resolve when defending husband from condiments.
• +1 Saltwater-Logged Silks: Attract hermit crabs. Repel dignity.
• New Title: Lobster Bait with Benefits: Enemies pause one turn to laugh.
• Achievement: Never Trust A Snack Again: Permanently suspicious of all street food.

This story is published in:

• The Peaceful Shores of Noodle Beach

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Includes the following stories: The Peaceful Shores of Noodle Beach You Never Know What Info You Might Pick Up in the Afterlife: A Pink Necromancer Near Death Experience Kishotenketsu A Chilly Light Drizzle Becomes Snowfall on the Shore A Peaceful Afternoon of Lobster Rolls and Laughter Beneath the Seagull-Crowded Sky, Where One Clumsy Waiter Spills Clam Chowder, One Cheerful Chef Whistles While He Works, and One Elderly Elf Wraps Himself in Pink and Finds Contentment at the Edge of the Cold Atlantic The Warmth of Being Held The Crows Are Restless A Bond Unseen Ghastly Too Many Apples for One Basket Roses on the Beach, a Poem by Quaraun the Last Moon Elf The Rain-Kissed Shore That Afternoon When Quaraun Got Stuck In a Crab Trap Incandescent Shadows Over Driftwood Bay A Day Spent In the Sand, Collecting Memories as We Collect Seashells They grow bolder with each passing night. A Diamond Snowbound Silence Burnt Orange, a Poem by Quaraun the Moon Elf A Shattered Moon Let us plan a relaxin’ day. Meteoric Marvels of the Dreaded Dunes Sparkle A Relaxing Day BoomFuzzy’s Bubbly Bracelet Ember Collecting Sea Salt (aka Thingamajig—Version 1) Contentment, a Poem by Quaraun Under the Firelight’s Malevolent Spell The Tide Swallows the Shore Avoiding Puddles The Kiss Beneath the Frosted Moon Noodle Beach: A Love Letter to a Forgotten Shoreline

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The Pink Necromancer, Moon Elf silk weaver & merchant: Quaraun on Noodle Beach. His master chef Phooka turned Lich husband: BoomFuzzy with his 1968 VW Bus Beach Noodle Food Truck. And their on again/off again mad scientist Sheep Demon lover: GhoulSpawn with his 1974 AMC Gremlin time machine. Time Travel setting swings back and forth between 40th century Maine after a comet hit the moon decimating the planet, and the 1970s, Maine. Quaraun in the main character, he and BoomFuzzy are a married gay couple. GhoulSpawn is their shared live-in lover. Art by Wendy Christine Allen.

BoomFuzzy King Gwallmaiic aka BoomFuzzy the Unicorn: Quaraun's husband, BoomFuzzy aka King Gwallmaiic, a Scottish Phooka, who is King of The UnSeelie Court. Quaraun is his court mage and advisor, as well as the only Elf in The UnSeelie Court. BoomFuzzy is a "classic fantasy type" Necromancer who uses sorcery to raise the dead. Being a Faerie he is also an illusionist and master of trickster magic. By profession, he is a Master Chef, owning the global monopoly on restaurants, taverns, pubs, and food trucks. Until his death, BoomFuzzy was regarded as the world's most powerful wizard. He is now a Lich. BoomFuzzy is also half-Human. His mother was a Mongolian/Chinese Human, which is why he wears distinctively Asian outfits, along with a great kilt worn as a cape. Known as BoomFuzzy the Unicorn, he often takes the form of a purple Unicorn. BoomFuzzy's exact age is unknown, though he was well over two thousand years old at the time of his death, and Quaraun resurrected him as a Lich around 500+ years ago, making him close to 3,000 years old. In his BlackBird form he is fifteen thousand years old. Art by Wendy Christine Allen

Quaraun Quaraun the Insane aka The Pink Necromancer: The F2M transgender Persian Moon Elf main character: The Pink Necromancer, Quaraun The Insane, with BoomFuzzy the Unicorn. F2M for those unaware = Quaraun was biologically born female, but transitioned to live as a male; this is why there are stories where Quaraun is sometimes pregnant, in spite of being male and using he/him male pronouns. Quaraun is a Necromancer by the actual dictionary definition of the word, meaning he is a psychic medium who sees and hears ghosts, and uses tarot, spirit boards, and seances to communicate with the dead. By profession he is a silk weaver/tailor/silk merchant. Quaraun is an Elder God JellyFish who takes the form of an Elf to blend in with society. His 12 foot long hair is made out of venomous, stinging jellyfish tentacles. Quaraun is BoomFuzzy's apprentice and regarded as the world's most powerful still living wizard. Quaraun's exact age is unknown, but he is somewhere around 750 years old. In his SunTa form he is twelve thousand years old. The Scared Pink JellyFish that lives in him, is stated to being over two million years old. Art by Wendy Christine Allen

Main characters: The Pink Necromancer, Quaraun (A Moon Elf) and his husband King Gwallmaiic aka BoomFuzzy aka The Elf Eater of Pepper Valley, Lich King of Fire Mountain (A Phooka/Faerie).

BoomFuzzy is King of The UnSeelie Court;

Quaraun is his Court Mage;

GhoulSpawn (not pictured) is Quaraun’s apprentice.

They are the world’s three most evil super villains, though they do not see themselves as evil. They own the world’s only functioning BioDome and thus hold the world’s monopoly on crops, food, livestock, and fabric, holding the Human population at their sadistic mercy.

These stories are told from their point of view.

 — — Art by Wendy Christine Allen

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This page was written by Wendy Christine Allen of 146 Portland Ave, Old Orchard Beach, Maine.

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