Tark in Trouble

Well, it's been a while since I had the chance to use Melissa's phone for new posts, and it's all stupid Tark's fault.  Here's what happened:

Two days after the dreadful field trip to the Dwarf mines, my hair still reeked of burning dwarf poo.  I'd tried everything to get the smell out--washing it in spring water, rubbing it with rose petals, and even considering plastering it with pine sap.  Nothing worked.  It was like the smell had soaked in! I finally decided to sneak out and get a drop of human shampoo from Melissa's bathroom. Her hair always smells wonderful!

Just as I was tiptoeing out of my bedroom that night, our front door crashed open and Tark walked in.  I say walked, but it was more like staggered.  He was singing 'Where Art Thy Trousers, oh Mighty Oberon' at the top of his voice, and there was a huge bump on his forehead.  Once he figured out which side of the door he was on, he slammed it, turned around, and threw up all over Dad's overcoat that was hanging in the hallway.  Absolutely classic!

It turned out that one of Tark's dim-witted associates had gotten ahold of his father's secret stash of vintage fermented honey, and they'd all snuck out and had quite the party.  As I've said before, honey itself is intoxicating to fairies, and fermented honey is at least ten times stronger!  The older it is, the more potent it gets, too.  Tark and his pals had gotten completely drunk.

Dad went absolutely berserk.  I've never seen him so angry.  Of course, as an officer of the Honey Control Board, he was horrifically embarrassed!  It doesn't look good for one of their officers, especially the one who came up with their latest ad campaign, to have a son who's part of what was to become a very public underage drinking story!  He stormed all over the house, shouted at Tark (who was wayyyy past caring at the time) and blew the special whistle that summons messenger bats to rouse the other parents and alert them to the problem.

It turned out that there had been eight kids at the party, and they had all gotten drunker than gnomes on holiday.  Several of them were still in the clearing where they'd met, completely passed out.  Two of them had decided it would be a good idea to put their underwear on their heads and knock on Mayor Clearwater's door shouting "Bottoms' Up, Mr. Mayor!"  The mayor was not amused.  After writing some rude things about our school principal on the trees around the clearing, Tark had decided to fly home.  He ran into several trees on the way.  He was covered with bumps and bruises, but it could have been a lot worse.  Drunk fairies often snap their necks flying into trees, or get caught by cats.

All eight boys (girls have much more sense) are now grounded for, like, EVER!  They woke up with some truly magnificent hangovers, too.  The whole thing would have been hysterically funny if it hadn't put my parents on such high alert.  There was just no chance of sneaking out for ages!  My hair is actually smelling normal now, without having to take any of Melissa's shampoo.  I might try some anyway.