Deaths Excellent Vacation

Titster? I meant her high and gracious nymphness, Titania the Uber.”
    “We cannot have a non- nymph in a Nymph Offensive,” one of the chicks said, frowning some more at me.
    “Hey, I’m happy to stay back and let you guys kick serious faery butt,” I said, plopping down on the grass. “I’ll just stay here and wait for you guys to get done, ’K?”
    “You must come with us,” Titania said in a huffy voice. “We had a deal. You said you would help me seek my revenge on Oberon. You must do that, or I will not aid you in returning to Paris.”
    “Yeah, well”—I twanged my codpiece—“I ain’t no nymph, and if you have a rule that only nymphs can go along to whoop-ass, then it’s not gonna happen.”
    “We can make him an honorary nymph,” the frowny chick said.
    Titania looked thoughtful as all the other women voiced their approval of this plan. “I don’t see why that wouldn’t work. Although he must change his form into that of a female.”
    “No way, sister,” I said, backing up. “I don’t even like human form, but there’s no way in Abaddon you’re going to get me to change into a girl.”
    “Why not?” Titania asked, narrowing her eyes as she stalked toward me. “Do you have something against women?”
    “Like that’s even possible? It’s just not a good idea for me to take on girl form. ’Cause if I did, all I’d do is jump up and down and watch my boobs bounce.”
    The nymphs stared at me with accusation in their eyes.
    “Not like I’ve ever done that or anything,” I added quickly, then cleared my throat. “So! Men. They’re scum, right? Let’s go beat up Ti-Ti’s boyfriend.”
    Titania made me ride on her motorcycle after that, in order, she said, to save the nymphs from my lust. They made me an honorary nymph, however, which I hope Aisling never hears about, because my life will be one long pun if she does.
    We got to the campsite where the faeries were celebrating midsummer an hour or so later. I knew it had to be the right place because not only were there a bunch of bonfires, there were also Renaissance-faire- ish chicks wandering around in long, gauzy dresses, with garlands of flowers in their hair. That, and everyone present was a faery.
    “Look at them,” snarled Titania from where the Nymph Offensive was hidden behind several trees circling the lakeside camp spot. “Just look at how they fling themselves around the bonfires as if they, and not we, were beings of the earth!”
    “They really do bring new meaning to the word frolic , don’t they?” I asked, watching the faeries dance like monkeys on crack around the bonfires. “Hey, you can see right through those gauzy dresses when the light is behind them. Hoobah.”
    “They think they are chosen because Oberon has had us cast out of grace,” Titania sneered, “but we will not stand for this anymore!”
    “We are of the earth! We will take back what is ours!” Frowny Nymph said. “We will rule midsummer as we were meant to rule it!”
    “There will be no quarter for faeries!” Titania said, accepting a long, thin sword from one of the other nymphs. She held it aloft as if it were a beacon. “We will take no prisoners! We will have no mercy!”
    “Babe, just between you and me, I think you’ve seen Lord of the Rings one too many times,” I said, leaning toward her so everyone wouldn’t overhear. “Viggo you ain’t. If you want my advice—”
    She didn’t. “This is war, my sisters!” she interrupted me, waving her sword toward the innocent faeries tripping the firelight fantastic. “It is them or us! All I ask is that you leave that lying traitor Oberon for me! Nymphood—arise!”
    On that battle cry, the group of women charged forward, causing immediate panic in the frolicking faeries. They ran screaming away from us, hands waving in the air as they raced around like winged Ren-faire-clad chickens, bumping into each other, the air thick with spurts of faery dust.
    It was chaos, sheer chaos, and although one of the nymphs shoved a rake in my hand before she charged off, wielding a chunk of garden hose like it was nunchuks, I stayed in the back and tried to keep out of the way of maddened nymphs.
    “Nice . . . er . . . wings,” I said as one flower-bedecked faery in a translucent gown ran past me screaming at the top of her lungs, a nymph in hot pursuit. I wandered over to where two other nymphs had a male faery pinned and were taking turns beating him over the head with a