This is an excerpt from my short story, Osculating Bufonadae that appears in the Twisted Tails IV: Fantastic Flights of Fantasy anthology.

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“Would you mind telling me why we’re going to wherever this place is in my car? Why didn’t you just use a little magic and zap me to the party in a flash of blinding green light—or something?”

Vern, stretched out comfortably on the dash, his tail dangling in front of a speedometer that bounced wildly between twenty and eighty miles per hour, yawned.

“Because I’ve never ridden in a car—interesting. Besides, I’m not some animated character and the magic I have on this side of the portal is...um...limited to certain things. Not that I don’t have a little, mind you, but zapping in green or any other color of light isn’t part of it.” Without looking around, Vern continued, “Two more blocks and turn right.”

“But...but that’s Blanchard Avenue. We’re headed for the ritziest part of town.”

“So?”

“So, my car is going to look pretty much out of place over there in ‘Richville’, Vern.”

“I told you the two of you live in different worlds, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, but—”

“No but, but, but, but. You just go where I tell you and don’t worry about the little details. Leave appearances to me.”

“Leave appearances to you? Okay, fine, but there’s a lot of fixing to do to take care of a thirty-five year old Chevy with a severe case of rust rash, Vern.”

!Bam! Sam was sitting behind the polished rosewood steering wheel of an equally ancient, but immaculate XKE worth a few hundred grand, at the very least.

“How...how did you do that?”

It wasn’t that he cared how it was done so much, but there he was, at the helm of one of the most sought after sex cars in the world, without so much as a single scratch in its glistening blood red, hand rubbed laquer job that just happened to match his tie perfectly, and he didn’t see it happen. It was, well, incredible. Unbelievable. Magic.

“Don’t worry about how I did it. It’s done, right? You don’t like the color, maybe?” Vern said. He flicked his tail that now dangled between the matched Jaeger tach and speedometer with custom mother of pearl faces.

“No, no, no. I love the color. I just....” Sam could find no reason to continue.