Vengeance of the HOA – The Llama #1

Vengeance of the HOA spawned from a combination of Twitter threads, cult rulings, and Solar Opposites. This is the first installment. If you like it, share it on Twitter and tag me so I know to continue the story. 🙂

Filled with llamas, ninjutsu, waffles, goblins, punch, and pie, it will become part of the Fae Awakening universe.

Filop tossed the agenda to the side, not recognizing the importance of one tiny line item near the end of the list. Sitting in the high-backed throne chair with a red velvet cushion and golden edges, Filop rubbed his fingers against the threads, feeling the edges of the cushion where it met the gold.

He asked, “Mr. Pear, why does this feel… cheap?” His tall, lanky form leaned in the chair, slouching so much it appeared he might slip into a deep sleep. One leg hung over the right side, his foot swinging in the air.

Bartlett leaned down in a pristine, black suit with a matching tie. The cleanliness of his suit, the lack of wrinkles, showed a stark contrast to Filop’s heavily wrinkled gray shirt, blue pajama pants with white flowers, and sandals revealing unclean toes.

Speaking in a thick British voice fit for a statesman, Bartlett said, “Sir, it’s from China.”

Filop exclaimed, “China! Why China?”

Bartlett shrugged. “You asked for a chair, sir. This chair from the catalog.”

“Rule number fifty-four, Mr. Pear.” Filop spun his hand in the air.

“What’s that, sir?”

“Nothing made in China.”

With no emotion in his voice, Bartlett asked, “Nothing, sir? Where should we get it from?”

“Taiwan.”

“And when China invades Taiwan?”

“Did you say China will invade Taiwan, Mr. Pear?” Filop lifted his leg off the armrest, set in on the ground, and leaned forward.

“It’s only a matter of time, sir. Would you like American?”

“How much would it cost?”

Bartlett scrolled through his iPhone. He revealed the screen to Filop. “The price is there, sir.”

“What?” Filop sat back and sighed with irritation. “Rule number fifty-four shall be amended, Mr. Pear.”

“What is that amendment, sir?”

“The Hech Oh Ahhh shall hence forth purchase items as needed, remove the tags, and never let me see the price. Foreign or domestic, anyone who leaves the country of origin on a product shall be forced to bear witness to…” Filop growled, “the Llama.”

“The Llama? Are you sure, sir?”

“One-hundred percent. Let’s get this meeting started.” Filop stood from the chair. Without a care in the world, he spun a gavel in the air while saying, “This meeting of the Lancaster Hech Oh Ahhh, in coordination with those living on Apple, Peach, Orange, Cherry, and the newly found Waffles street, shall come to order.” He smashed the gavel into an imaginary podium, swinging the gavel onto his knee. Falling into the chair with a hand around his knee, he said, “Mr. Pear, take this away before I hurt myself.”

Mr. Pear said, “Absolutely, sir.”

“What’s on today’s agenda?”

“First up, Jack Sneed.” Mr. Pear called out to a crowd gathered in the gymnasium. “You may approach the Lord of the HOA.”

Filop cleared his throat.

Bartlett apologized. “My apologies, sir.” He called out, “You may approach the Lord of the Hech Oh Ahhh, commander of the local hordes, conqueror of the pancake snafu, and founder of Waffles street.”

Jack Sneed approached in a hand-knitted purple sweater. “I’m here about Waffles Street.”

Filop swirled his hand in the air. “What about Waffles Street?”

“Can we remove the sticker and change it back?”

Filop cleared his throat.

Bartlett demanded, “Per rule number three in the Hech Oh Ahhh handbook, you must address your lord when asking questions.”

Filop said, “Change it back? You liked First Avenue? Every city has a First Avenue.” With a rushed pace, he hurried, “Nobody has a Waffles Street! Nobody!”

Jack asked, “But, sir, it’s causing issues with our mail. Can we—”

Filop motioned to three teenage boys wearing bright red shirts with khaki pants and sandals.

The boys moved and spoke in unison. “Sir, yes, sir.”

“I hear by sentence you, Jack Sneed, to bear witness to—” He watched the onlookers sitting in their folded chairs. A stretch of empty chairs faced the wall. With a single finger, he pointed to the three boys.

In sync, they smiled with glee. “The Llama! The Llama!” They shouted, “The Llama!”

Two boys grabbed Jack by the shoulders. They drug him towards the empty row of chairs facing the wall as he struggled against their grip.

Jack argued, “What are you doing? You can’t do this?”

One of them laughed insidiously. “You’re going to get it, now.”

Another chuckled. “Right in the face.”

“Yeah, the Llama’s going to get you right in the face! Today’s your judgment day!”

Whispering into Jack’s ear, a boy asked, “Can I pilfer your electronics afterwards? You won’t need them, anyway. Not after what the Llama does to you.”

Jack’s expression grew fearful.

With a wry smile, Filop said, “I can do whatever I want. I am leader of the Hech Oh Ahhh!” He slumped into the chair. “Who’s next?”

“Norma Jean from Cherry Street.”

Rolling his eyes, Filop asked, “Do we really have to listen to her again?”

Bartlett said, “Rule number two, sir. You decreed it. All questions are applicable at the Hech Oh Ahhh meeting regardless of their nature or source.”

With a deep sigh, Filop said, “As the Hech Oh Ahhh commands.”

Norma Jean walked stiffly to the front of the crowd in a heavily starched yellow pant suit. She held two slim swords in her hands.

Filop asked, “What is it, Norma Jean?”

Norma tossed the swords in front of her. “Your… minions… or whatever they are—”

Filop chuckled. “Minions is a good word. They are paid though.”

One boy said, “Better be. I want to get my hands on the new Xbox.”

Another said, “Playstation.” They began bickering about which one was better as they made sure Jack stayed in his chair facing the wall.

Norma continued, “They leave their ninja swords—”

Filop said, “Ninjutsu.”

Norma questioned, “Nin-what?”

“Ninjutsu, the ancient Japanese art of stealth and sabotage.”

Norma scoffed. “Why do your boys need to practice being ninjas? Why are they leaving swords in the street for our children to find?”

One boy spoke, “Lord Feelop?”

“Yes.”

“We gave the boys those swords as you requested.”

“Indeed.”

Surprised, Norma questioned, “What? You gave them to the children?”

The boys shrugged. “Yeah, it’s fun.”

Filop whispered in Bartlett’s ear.

Bartlett spoke firmly, “Madam Jean, you must address the lord of the Hech Oh Ahhh as specified in rule three.”

Insolent, Norma said, “I will not call Filop my lord.”

Filop cleared his throat.

Bartlett said, “Feelop, madam.”

“His name is Filop!”

Bartlett walked behind the chair, leaned down, and lifted a pamphlet in the air. “Rule number one, madam. Henceforth from this day that Filop Nogood took over the role of HOA President, the HOA shall be called the Hech Oh Ahhh and Filop Nogood shall be referred to as Lord Feelop.” Tapping the book, Bartlett said, “It’s in the rules, madam.”

“Rules nobody agrees with.”

Bartlett argued, “By living in a residence within the member streets, you agree to the rules of the Hech Oh Ahhh.”

“I’ve agreed to nothing!”

Filop stood. “Mr. Pear, let me take this one.” He walked down to stare into Norma’s eyes. “My, you are angry, aren’t you?” Without waiting for a response, he continued, “We need the swords. Your children must be trained in the ways of—” Filop took a ninja-like stance, jumped in the air, and pretended to throw fire balls from his hands as he landed. With a gleeful smile, he finished, “Ninjutsu if we are to survive the goblin horde.”

With disbelief, Norma yelled, “Goblins? Now he’s talking about goblins!” She kicked the swords. “You aren’t fit to lead the HOA.” Shoving a finger into Filop’s chest, she said, “I demand you leave before I call—”

Filop motioned to the boys. They rushed over. “Sir, yes, sir.”

Pushing Norma away from his reach, Filop asked, “Did you get the Llama as ordered?”

Like it was the easiest thing they ever did, one boy said, “Oh, yeah! He’s waiting in the other room. Walked him right down the street.”

Filop smiled. “Good.” He pointed to Norma. With a raised voice, he said, “By order of the Lord of the Hech Oh Ahhh, I sentence thee to—” He jutted a finger in the air. “bear witness to—” After a long pause, with slow, forceful words, he said, “—the Llama!”

Norma argued, “I will not—”

Filop screamed, “The Llama!”

The boys carried Norma off, forcing her to sit in a chair and face the wall with Jack.

Calling into the crowd, Filop said, “It will soon be time for them to Narfle the Garthok!” The crowd’s expressions made Filop clarify his statement. He raised his hands, “You know, Gnarfle the Garthok.” When nobody understood, he said, “Gnarfle the Garthok? Hasn’t anyone watched Coneheads?”

One boy said, “Is that a really old movie where the people have pointed heads? My dad watches that.”

Filop rolled his eyes. “Mr. Pear, what’s next?”

“Next up, Suzie wants to share a raptor ride with the Hech Oh Ahhh.”

Astonished, Filop asked, “Raptor ride? Like, raptors? Real raptors?”

Bartlett reviewed the agenda. “That’s what it says, sir.”

“Why didn’t you start with this?”

Pointing to the agenda Filop threw on the ground, Bartlett asked, “Did you even read the agenda, sir?”

“That’s why you’re here, Mr Pear. I hired you to do the things I don’t want to do. But I want to ride a raptor.” Knowing an outburst would follow, Filop said, “I hear by order this meeting of the Hech Oh Ahhh to head outside for raptor rides. There will be no more questions. We’ll finalize the rides by forcing those deemed… insufficient… to bear witness to Garthok, the all holy llama” He whispered, “Mr. Pear, how did they even find a raptor?”

Bartlett shrugged. “They’re doing amazing things with cloning nowadays, sir.”

“Everyone,” Filop jumped into the air like a ninja, throwing another imaginary fireball as he landed. “Rule number sixty five, when there are raptors,” He roundhouse kicked an invisible target. “—we ride!” Walking over to a table filled with pies and a giant glass bowl of red liquid, he said, “But first!” He welcomed everyone with the motion of his hands. “Punch and pie is served!”

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