Serial Stories: Music and Moose


Author’s Note: Took me so long to write and edit this. If you feel a need to play catch-up, read this.

“So,” Joe said to his band mates. “You all know the story. All of it.”

Frankie nodded. “I heard about Eagleview. It surprised me that we actually had a superhero in the area.”

“A really weird one,” Ozzy said. “I saw the news. Also saw the otter villain.” He grimaced. “It smacks of a comic book scene.”

Gail nodded to Ozzy and shifted his gaze to Joe. “And your son?” he asked. “I mean, I don’t mean to pry, but damn dude. No one knew about this?” Continue reading


Bar Jocks: Story Five, Part Three


“Alright,” Joe said, sliding into a chair. He was in red striped swim trunks and a small cup of tea sat at his elbow. “I don’t know what happened over there, but I’m worried it might get worse.”

Mike nodded. They were in his office, while Gilbert and Murphy were in the break room. “So he just freaked out?”

“Yeah. Full blown panic attack.”

“Any idea what may have caused it?”

Joe shook his head. “Nope, no idea.” Continue reading

Bar Jocks short no. 003 (Part 2)


“Hi honey, I’m home,” Joe said as he walked into his home. He tossed his keys onto the side table and looked at his uncle, Brian Lee Moose, who was busily weaving a string of lights around the framed photos hanging on the walls. Another person was crouched down against an opposite wall, fiddling with a power supply strip.

“Alright, kid,” he said in his Brooklyn accent, “let it rip!”

The lights flicked on, showing a grid of sparkling lights that illuminated every frame. Joe noticed that the doorways were covered with bright, silvery garland and clear glass ornaments.

Brian took a step back and nodded. “That’s pretty nice, kid.”

“Thank you sir.” The lights switched off, and the figure straightened up. He turned, giving a sharp double profile of Joe. “Anything else?”

“Nah, kid. I think we’re done here in the room.” Brian turned to find Joe. “Heya, nephew. What’s shaking?”

The other person turned to focus on Joe, showing a somewhat carbon copy of him. His antlers were already gone. “Hey.”

“Brad and I were decorating the room,” Brian said, waving a hand to the lights and the garlands. “How went Bar Jocks?”

Joe shrugged. “They want me to dress as Santa. I saw the costume they want me to be in.” He gestured with his hands. “It’s…kinky.”

Brian had to stifle a grin. “No doubt.”

“In the meanwhile, I have to go later today to get a harness measured.” A choking sound had Joe look at Brian. “Eh?”

He shook his head and covered his mouth with a closed hand. “Nothing,” he said as he cleared his throat. “Just a bit of dust.”

Brian smiled. “That’s your father right there, kid. Did that all the time when he was your age.”

Joe blushed. A week after the fateful meeting between him and Brian left him at a loss. How was he to deal with the situation?

“It’s a damned shame you ain’t old enough to see him in action,” Brian continued. “I’d happily get you in if you wanted to.”

“Uncle!” Joe exclaimed. Brad went into a fiery blush.

“Heck, he could get a few lessons from those two rats.”

“Really, uncle!”

Brian held up his hands in mock surrender. “I’m just saying, nephew. Just saying.”

Joe sighed heavily and gave his uncle a steely glare before going up to Bradley. “Anything you want for Christmas?”

Bradley shrugged.

Joe reached over and pulled his son into a tight hug, which was returned with interest.

“It’s been tough on you, I imagine,” he said, rubbing Brad’s back. “I don’t even know how you celebrated the holidays. But I’ll make it up to you.” He hugged tighter, giving his son a trademark moosesnug. “I promise.”

“Mmmph!” Brad said, waving his hands a bit.

Moose immediately loosened his embrace. “Oh yeah, sorry.” He chuckled a bit. “I get carried away sometimes.”

“That’s saying something, kid,” Brian said. He was standing next to the power strip and pushed the button there, illuminating the room. “You always get carried away.”

Joe stuck his tongue at his uncle, then focused on his son. “Alright, tell me what you want to do, and we’ll do it. Deal?”

Brian nodded slowly. “Deal.”

Bar Jocks short no. 002


“Oye, watch this.”

Mike leaned over to Joe and reached up to an antler pad. He gently started to rub it.

The moose put down his knitting and jerked his head back. “Dude. Stop that.”

Mike chuckled and reached over to rub it again.

“Dude! Stop that!”

“Make me.”

Joe swore and jumped up from his seat. He turned to the ‘roo and Gear. “You do that one more time–!”

“And what will happen?” the massive rat asked, genuinely intrigued.

Joe went into a fiery blush. “Nothing,” he muttered.

“Then why are you getting into such a fuss,” he said. He reached up and rubbed.

“Aw fuck,” Joe said, rolling his eyes.

Mike reached up and rubbed on the other one.

Joe grunted, already feeling himself get relaxed. “Guys…stop that…”

“Nah,” Mike said. He rubbed harder, his nimble fingers going around the bone.

“No, seriously,” Joe drawled. He yawned massively. “You’re putting me to sle–” His eyes closed, and he collapsed on top of the rat.

“Fuckin’ hell!” Gear staggered with the dead weight. “Someone get some help here, ya mangy cunts!”

Mike placed his shoulder under Joe’s chest and gently eased the load off of the rat.

“What fuckery is that?”

The ‘roo grinned. “One of Joe’s weaknesses. Found it accidentally a few weeks ago.”

“So what?” Gear gestured to the moose, who was already leaking drool. “You rub his antlers, and he turns off?”

“Like clockwork.”

The rat looked at Joe. He gently shook the moose’s shoulder, but he couldn’t wake him. “I don’t think we should let the husbando know.” He shook harder. “Anyway to turn him back on?”

Bar Jocks: Story Four, Part Three


Joe stirred from his position. “Ugh…”

“ I think he’s coming to,” someone said.

He blinked slowly, trying to dispel the black spots from his vision. He felt his back on something soft: the sofa. “The hell happened?” He focused on his grandmother, who was standing over him. “Grandma,” he said a bit dazedly. “What brings you here?”

Eudora dabbled something damp on Joe’s forehead. “I was invited by your uncle for tea.” A slim eyebrow arched. “What do you remember?”

Joe exhaled a breath and closed his eyes in concentration. “I remember coming from Bar Jocks with Mike…” His eyes shot opened, and he sat up from the sofa. “Mike! Where is that limey bastard!?” He winced in pain and fell back against the cushions. “Chaos and coffee, what happened to me?” Continue reading