Page 32 of The Sasquatch and the Hairdresser

The flamboyant man gasps. “Silly me. I was so excited about your salon that I forgot to introduce myself.” He reaches his hand out again. “I’m Max MacLeod, supermanny extraordinaire and fiancé to Dr. Targan Wildethorne, Mystic Hollow’s sexiest orc professor.”

I blink a few times and shake his hand. “Good to meet you. And yeah, I’d be happy to add you to my calendar once I have it up and running. But your best bet may be to do a walk-in during my opening week.”

We discuss details for a bit before the older lady gnome steps forward and crosses her arms. “Baxter, what the hell has gotten into these fools?”

Baxter rubs at his temples like he’s trying to rub away a headache. “Sorry about this, Sylvia. My best guess is that they’re intoxicated. On what, I have no idea.”

She frowns. “Gnomes don’t tend to become intoxicated. Not easily, at least. We have a strong immunity to all forms of alcohol.”

Max titters. “Sweetie, I don’t think they’ve been into the booze. They’re tripping balls on something far more psychedelic. Reminds me of a roommate of mine in college. He got high on something and ran around our dorm totally naked yelling, ‘I’m king of the world!’” Max shakes his head in recollection. “He was weirdly obsessed with Titanic at the time.”

“Great,” Baxter mutters. “I’ve got naked hippie gnomes running around town while high.”

Sylvia’s brow furrows. “I doubt it was intentional. If they did willingly consume something that ended up being dangerous, they didn’t know this would be the outcome. Gnomes only consume natural foods grown from the earth.”

Hal hums thoughtfully. “Hmm. Maybe they foraged something out in the woods, something with unknown mind-altering properties. There are a variety of plants and fungi that grow in deciduous areas and can induce hallucinations and such.”

“By the Light,” Baxter growls. “Just what we don’t need right now.”

All around us the gnomes continue rooting through the many items in the store with wild abandon, tossing discarded garments in their wake, and muttering something about foes and supplies. At least the yelling has gone down.

Sylvia shakes her head. “I wouldn’t mind them raiding my shop if they were actually putting on clothing instead of just making a huge mess for me to clean up. I’m related to half of these fools. I’ll get things sorted with them once they’re back in their right minds and it’ll be fine. Their public nudity is the bigger issue if it continues, especially with the upcoming Harvest Festival.”

Baxter’s mouth sets in a grim line. “We can’t have them flaunting their bits and bobs all over town, not when there will be children around.”

“Agreed,” Hal chimes in. “If we want to nip this in the bud, it sounds like we need to do some investigating down by the campground at the lake where they’re all staying.”

Baxter nods his head. “You’re right. Enough’s enough. Are you free later tonight? With all your foraging knowledge, I could really use your help, Hal.”

“Sure thing,” he agrees readily.

“I’ll come too,” I blurt out before I can think better of it.

There’s no way I’m letting Hal and Baxter search out there. Alone. Together. In the dark.

Hal smiles like I just made his fucking day.

That makes the butterflies in my stomach do a full-on freestyle dance number.

“Sure. You haven’t had a chance to see the farther reaches of Mystic Hollow yet.” Hal gets that fucking adorable bashful look on his face as he gazes at me. “It’ll be nice to have you tag along.”

Baxter grunts in agreement.

A gnome with a padded bra strapped to his head like a helmet jumps up onto the front counter.

“Brothers—”

“And sisters!” a female gnome interjects.

“Don’t forget non-binaries,” another chimes in.

“Ahem.” Bra-helmet clears his throat. “Kindred spirits, we ride at dawn!”

“But it’s already noon,” one of them points out with a giggle.

Bra-helmet looks briefly confused and then rallies. “We ride at sunset! No longer will we suffer under the tyranny of the multi-bladed overlords cutting down our grassy friends with impunity!”

“Death to all lawnmowers” is once again the responding chant.