Bouncin’ Benny and the Bonehead

Bouncin’ Benny, the kingdom’s testy enchanted crow, caws, laughing. His mocking laughter echoes throughout Baldor the magician’s extravagant living quarters.

“So, this is the kid you think can turn back the rebel army?”

Chip, Baldor the magician’s seventeen-year-old apprentice, smiles meekly, his reed-thin body, freckles, and crippling shyness making him appear even younger.

“Yes, he’s the one,” Baldor insists.

The stocky, good-natured seventy-two-year-old Baldor has served King Ruppert Vontobel since the 1980s, and his father, Moonjack, served Ruppert’s father before that.

“Bayete and his hordes have burned, looted, and fought their way to the gates of the city, and you’re puttin’ your money on some skinny, farm boy,” Benny says. “Sorry, but I can’t trust a magician named Chip. You know I was a bookie in my heyday, and I don’t mind tellin’ you this is a sucker bet. I wouldn’t give you a hundred to one odds that backin’ this bonehead is gonna work.”

“It will. I’ve seen the signs. He has one blue eye and one brown eye.”

“That just means his parent’s hormones couldn’t make up their minds.”

“Watch this then,” Baldor replies. Producing a deck of cards, he shuffles them. “Call it, Chip.”

“Queen of diamonds.”

Baldor turns over the queen of diamonds.

“Three of clubs.”

Baldor shows Bennie the three of clubs.

“King of hearts.”

“All right, he can count cards. Most hucksters can. So put him in a circus and charge suckers three bucks to get in, but don’t put this country’s future in his hands. I think you’re oversteppin’, Baldor. I know everybody in the kingdom thinks you’re the greatest magician since Kreskin. You may think you’re slick, but don’t forget, a lot of those tricks came from Bouncin’ Benny.”

Chip’s brow crinkles. “What an ungrateful thing to say. Crows are smart, but…”

“He’s not like other crows,” Baldor explains. “He’s really a man from the 1960s. He got caught in a time vortex and switched places with a crow.”

“I was doin’ my thing, you know, bouncin’ from bodega to bodega, collectin’ my numbers. That’s how I got my nickname; people in the Bronx said I bounced when I walked. Anyway, I went into this one place on Fulton Avenue, and I had to tap a kidney, so I went to the little boy’s room. When I opened the door, I got sucked in, and suddenly I was spinnin’ around. There were birds, animals, and other people spinnin’ around with me, then BOOM, I wound up here in 2023.”

“There were too many magicians casting spells at the time,” Baldor offers. “The network crashed.”

“I suppose there’s a very confused crow walkin’ the streets of the Bronx tryin’ to figure out how to act human,” Benny adds.

“Benny is very useful, despite his sharp tongue. He has a keen sense of people’s strengths and weaknesses. But don’t worry, even though Benny isn’t very high on your talents right now, I think he’ll come around. I believe in you, Chip. I think you can harness your potential.”

“He’d better. Somebody might have to take over for you soon,” Benny counters.

“My power is enhanced by the totems we placed throughout the kingdom. Whether by design or by accident, the rebels have destroyed most of them, weakening my power. That’s why I need an assistant, someone whose power comes from within.”

“Rollo the Brave!” Baldor calls out.

Rollo Dorman, a bearded giant with gentle eyes and a trusting personality lumbers into the room, greeting Baldor, Benny, and Chip.

“I’ll make sure you’re well rewarded for serving as our Guinea pig.”

“You already turned me into a pig once before, didn’t you?” Rollo asks.

“I also regrettably left you with six fingers on each hand.”

“That’s all right, Baldor. They’ve helped me win the javelin competition for two years running. They also come in handy whenever I have to twist the lids off jars.”

“We need to disguise our men to surprise the rebels. Chip, I want you to cast a spell on Rollo. I want you to turn him into an antelope.”

“That’s pretty specific, Baldor,” Benny says.

“Precisely. It’s a good test. You know the incantation, Chip. Say it.”

Chip waves his hands in front of Rollo.

“Wop bop a loo bop a lop boom boom!”

Rollo disappears behind a cloud of smoke.

Baldor and Benny gasp with surprise when the smoke clears.

“You turned him into a cantaloupe!” Benny exclaims.

“You made a mistake. Its Wop bop a loo bop a lop bam boom,” Baldor says. “Bring Rollo back.”

Chip raises his arms. “RETURN!”

When the smoke clears, Rollo is in front of them, swaying drunkenly.

“Why do I feel like having fruit for lunch?”

“Try it again, Chip,” Baldor commands.

“Hop bop a loo bop a lop bam boom!”

The smoke clears. “A rabbit with horns?” Benny asks.

“I believe it’s called a jackalope. Part rabbit, part antelope.”

“You said it wrong again, bonehead,” Benny says.

Chip mutters the incantation to himself.

Rollo vanishes behind a cloud of smoke. When it clears, Rollo has been transformed into an antelope.

“Great work, Chip!”

“Yeah, great,” Benny adds sarcastically. “Do you think Bayete and his rebels will give bonehead three chances to wipe them out?”

Letting out a dissatisfied grunt, Rollo trots out of the room.

“I think Rollo needs a break,” Baldor notes. “He’ll probably be back in time for dinner. We’re having rabbit.”

Baldor paces back and forth across his thick Afghan carpet. Snapping his fingers, he yells, “Time travel! That’s how we beat the rebels! We’ll send our soldiers into the past just before the uprising. We can stop Bayete before he recruits his followers and starts the rebellion!”

“How are you going to test your idea out? Rollo’s gone,” Chip points out.

Baldor and Chip look at Benny.

“Oh, no. Who do you think I am, Doctor Who?”

“You’re a crow. Nobody’s going to notice you or bother you.”

“If I do this, Baldor, you’re gonna owe me big. Like, send me back to the Bronx as a human being big.”

“We’ll talk about it. But first, we’ve got a rebellion to put down. We’ll send you back to just before the uprising, then bring you back here. Once we know it’s safe, we can send an army back in time.”

“You’d better keep close tabs on me,” Benny says.

“Don’t worry. I’ll be able to hear you if you yell for help. Do you know the incantation, Chip?”

“…Time… Be on my side…”

“That’s not right, bonehead!” Benny says, cawing angrily. “It’s ‘time is on my side. ‘You not only stink at incantations, you suck at lyrics too! Uh-oh.”

Benny looks down at his claws, watching them disappear.

Slowed by the stifling humidity, Benny struggles to gain altitude. Flying over the landscape, he is surprised by its raw and primitive look. There are no cities, no settlements, no sign that humanity even exists. Massive mountains dominate the land, broken up by pockets of bubbling, steamy ponds, and overgrown, fruitless tropical trees. The sky ahead of him is angry red with streaks of black.

A large shadow passes directly overhead.

Benny looks up to see a huge flying creature with a long snout, razor-sharp teeth, and a wingspan so wide that it blocks the sun.

“A Pterodactyl!”

The Pterodactyl turns back toward Benny, snatching him up in its maw. Benny caws loudly for help as the Pterodactyl’s sharp teeth pierce his body.

Benny pecks at the inside of the Pterodactyl’s mouth with his beak.

“Time for a root canal, pinhead!”

Shrieking in pain, the Pterodactyl opens its mouth.

Benny flies off, cawing nervously as the Pterodactyl closes in on him.

“Help! Beam me up, Baldor!”

Benny wakes up back on his perch, still madly flapping his wings.

“Bad experience?” Baldor asks.

“Maybe we should just send bonehead to the rebels as a gift! A few days with them and he’ll kill every one of them!”

“Relax, you’re safe now.”

“Relax, the great wizard says. I was nearly crowbait! If this amateur tries to send our people back, they could wind up at the Little Big Horn or sittin’ on the H-Bomb as its bein’ dropped over Hiroshima!”

“I’m telling you; Chip has talent.”

“I don’t doubt he has talent, Baldor. But I do doubt his ability to use it.”

“Thank you for coming back, Rollo.”

“A guy has to eat. Thanks for turning me back into a man. I didn’t like being a deer. Two hunters tried to shoot me.”

“Sorry. But I’m glad their aim was bad.”

“Well, it was kind of my fault. I ran across the road in front of their truck. Their truck skidded off the road and hit a tree. It was a fully loaded Chevy. They weren’t too happy they totaled it.”

Benny caws, shaking his head in disbelief. “I think you’ve been playing the role of crash test dummy for too long, Rollo. It’s lowered your I.Q.”

“Quiet, Benny,” Baldor scolds. “I’ve got a better plan to defeat Bayete and the rebels. Instead of disguising our men, we turn them into vicious killing machines.”

“I vote for Pterodactyls,” Benny replies.

“No, they might get shot down. We need a creature that can stand up to bullets, tanks, and bombs.”

“Godzilla!” Chip shouts.

The four collaborators gather in the castle’s courtyard.

Benny stares into Chip’s eyes. “I swear, I don’t know which eye to look into. You’re not going to screw this up, are you?”

“This is going to be cool,” Rollo says. “I always wanted to be tall as a building and to be able to breathe fire. But it’s only for a few seconds, right?”

“Right. The incantation, Chip.”

“Oh, no, they say he’s got to go, go, go Godzilla!” Chip says sneezing.

Benny sighs. “Bless you. Bless us all.”

Rollo is engulfed in smoke. When it dissipates, he seems to have disappeared.

“I guess I shouldn’t have sneezed,” Chip says.

“Poor Rollo,” Baldor laments. “Done in by an allergic reaction.”

“Hey! Hey! Down here!” a faint voice calls out.

Baldor, Benny, and Chip follow the sound of the far-away voice.

Jumping up and down, squeaking at them, is an inch-high Godzilla.

Benny perches himself on top of a tilted tombstone. “This is your most cockamamie stunt yet, Baldor.”

“Think of it, Benny. If this works with one subject, we can create an entire army of the dead. Bayete’s soldiers won’t be able to defeat them.”

“You’re sure your wunderkind can control them? How about conjuring up an army of cantaloupes instead?”

“Quiet. Concentrate, Chip. Repeat after me…Let the sands of time blow by. I will live again, and I will never die.”

Chip repeats the words perfectly, then hiccups.

“I used to think there was nothing that could be a sure thing,” Benny comments. “But bonehead keeps provin’ that theory wrong.”

The earth around the grave begins to shift. A skeletal hand breaks through the dirt, followed by the visage of a grim, rotting corpse.

“Who summons Queen Antilla?” the corpse hisses.

“I…I do,” Chip stammers, holding his nose to avoid breathing in the stench. “And you…you must do my bidding…”

Queen Antilla cackles. “You boy? You can barely keep from soiling yourself at the sight of me.”

“You had to pick the warrior Queen to resurrect, didn’t you?” Benny whispers to Baldor.

“If she agrees to help us, her minions will follow.”

“And what is it you want from me, boy?” Queen Antilla asks as strands of her moldering flesh slide off her mud-spattered jaw.

Nearly struck dumb, his mouth dry, Chip answers in a whisper. “We...We need you to lead an army against Ba...Bayete and his fellow rebels.”

“Is that all?” Queen Attila hisses. “I’ll help you if you help me. Do what I ask, and I’ll see to it that Bayete and I trade places.”

“What do you want?” Baldor asks.

“King Ruppert must die. When he discovered I was plotting against him, he murdered my seventeen servants, my lover, and the three generals I’d enlisted to overthrow him.”

Benny chuckles. “Let’s get this straight. You’ll kill Bayete and his men if we agree to resurrect a second group of people who want to kill the king.”

“We’d just be trading one traitor for another. We can’t agree to that,” Baldor says.

Queen Antilla’s bones crack loudly as she rises from her grave.

“I don’t need your help to kill my revolting husband if I’m immortal.”

“Send her back to hell before her body solidifies and she becomes eternal,” Baldor says to Chip.

“Bricka bracka soda cracker, sis boom bah.”

Flesh begins to cover Queen Antilla’s skeleton. Her beautiful but lethal features start to coalesce, her determined stare fixing itself on Chip.

“Wrong incantation again, bonehead,” Benny says. “You should have seen this comin’!”

“My ability to see into the future doesn’t work like that.”

“Yeah, I guess not,” Benny replies. “It only works on cards.”

“We have to do something before she completes her transformation!” Baldor yells.

Flying at Queen Attila, Benny hits her in the neck. The bones in Queen Attila’s neck crack, crumbling. Her head rolls off her shoulder, falling into her grave. Stiffening, her body follows.

“You’d have had better luck if you brought back the Grateful Dead,” Benny says.

Standing on the veranda overlooking acres of the kingdom’s cherished wheatfield, Baldor asks, “What’s the one thing that always brings men to their knees?”

“A Woman,” Benny says.

“Close. Mother nature.”

“C’mon, Baldor. Don’t let this bonehead mess with Mother Nature.”

“I want to see if Chip can conjure up a thunderstorm. If he can do it, we can have him send a flood to drown Bayete and his men.”

Chip raises his hands toward the sky. “Thunder and lightning, I tell you it’s frightening!”

“He got it right this time!” Benny says, astonished.

The bright blue sky quickly gives way to foreboding black clouds and a strong, threatening wind.

A thunderbolt cracks in front of them, splitting a tree. A second thunderbolt illuminates the wheatfield.

“Impressive,” Benny comments.

A streak of lightning crackles only inches away from them, its intense light so bright that Baldor and Chip cover their eyes.

Baldor sniffs the air. “Something’s burning. It smells like fried chicken.”

Baldor turns to Benny. Smoke is rising off the bird’s burnt body.

“Ow.”

“Don’t worry, Benny. Your feathers will grow back.”

“In the meantime, I’m gonna look like the main course at Grandma’s Christmas dinner.”

“Be thankful I’m a vegetarian.”

A massive thunderbolt touches down in the wheatfield. Within seconds, the entire wheatfield is on fire.

“The King is really gonna hate this,” Benny comments.

Chip looks at the burning field. “I know what to say to stop it!”

Waving his hands above his head, he says, “To make it rain is my desire. C’mon rain, put out this fire!”

Thunder sounds and sheets of rain begin to fall.

Baldor turns to Benny. “Well?”

“I gotta admit it. Bonehead has earned a magic wand.”

King Ruppert enters Baldor’s chambers, his eyes as fiery red as his beard. He’s trailed by half a dozen guards whose armor squeaks and clanks loudly with their every move.

“Who set fire to my wheatfield?” King Ruppert demands.

Benny chirps, “Chip did it!”

King Ruppert’s expression brightens. “You’re a great magician, boy. The rebel army was hiding in my wheatfield. Your firestorm melted their tanks, their artillery, and their guns. When you made it rain you saved the crops and flushed Bayete and his remaining men out. They surrendered. You’re a hero!”