Tales Of The Deadman: Karl and Cordon Bleu Crisis

A collection of whimsical and comedic literary short stories featuring Karl the necromancer and his odd band of companions.

“The chicken gawked at me,” my old friend answered in the most honest tone he could muster. Full of certainty and genuine confusion to be more precise. “It gawked and pecked then crashed through the window.”

Eyes shifted to window which was indeed broken. Shards of glass shimmered by the kitchen sink. Trails of bread crumbs and melted cheese lead outside to the deep murky swamp. Scratches on the floor. Chairs toppled over. One would say a massive tornado decided to drop by. Officer Greil, werewolf and top investigator, observed the crime scene only an ear perk and a sniff.

Greil hunched over to my friend. “And the chicken?”

“It’s dead now. In the swamp…”

“But you still sound very unsure,” suspiciously raising a brow.

Silence filled the room. Nothing but our ceiling fan and my finger tapping could be heard. It must have been taps before Greil’s snort broke the silence.

“Mr. Karl Hegeman. The neighbors called claiming that at 11:05 AM today, they heard loud shrieks and unexplainable noises of terror. Yet you claim that the calamity seen in this kitchen was caused by nothing more than a regular chicken?”

Karl shifted his gaze away from Greil. Despite his best efforts Karl became a transparent sheet when interrogated by the stern werewolf.

“Yes. Just an ordinary chicken, not wanting to become today’s Cordon Bleu…”

The werewolf adjusted his gaze to meet Karl’s once more. “I smell magic in the air mister Hegeman; there was no necromancy involved now was there?”

“What?! Of course not!”

This is going nowhere.

“Officer Greil!”

Both men turned towards my direction. Unsure of whether my voice came from the newly washed dishes or the teapot on the unlit stove. Ah yes, my magic veil was still active.

“If it’s magic you sense my dear officer then it I apologize; my friend is not the source.” A light snap of my fingers undid the veil. And yes, I was standing right next to porcelain dishes. Karl sighed and slumped on the table; his face filled with relief. “It’s most likely me.”

Greil bent down as low as he could. His chilly, moist nose now towering in front of me. Each breath he took nearly knocked me back.

“And why stick up for him now? Little fairy, you could stand accused of being his accomplice.”

I placed my elbow on his snout, shifting all my weight to it.

“Oh but I am his accomplice! Everyone knows that!” I shift my weight further down. His snout now on the kitchen counter. “But you give my friend here far too much credit. See my friend here is an idiot, aloof of his actions.”

My finger raised to the other side of the counter where a cook book laid open.

“He doesn’t even realize that he isn’t following a cordon bleu recipe.”

Karl looked at me wide eyed and jaw dropped. The fool rushed to the book and carefully read it again. “Chicken and mashed potatoes?!” As if drained of all energy Karl slumped on the floor, head down like a sad puppy.

For a brief moment Greil was focused only on Karl. Observing him perhaps. As expected of one the most respected officers. Truly an admirable adversary to my old friend. But today is not a day for their typical banter.

I lightly tapped the porcelain plate. The sounds of light taps brought the wolf’s attention back to me.

“Well, I’m sure after witnessing another one of Karl’s many blunders… you are convinced there is no necromancy involved,” I asked as I began fiddling with my pointed hat.

It took the wolf a few more glances of the room before he gave a nod and left the house.

When I was certain the sounds of wolf steps were no longer present, I went over Karl who was still hunched over.

“So dear friend,” I began. “What happened this time?”

“I sneezed. On the chicken… in the pan.” He paused for a moment. “Then it well…gawked and pecked and crashed through the window.”

“Yes it did leave quite a mess.”

“It fell in the swamp… and died. Probably.”

“Attack of the killer fried chicken,” I laughed at the sheer lunacy of it all. “Necromancy after all!”

Karl stood up and started setting up the chairs. With a flick of my hand the broken glass lightly floated towards the trash can. Karl sat down and began looking through the cook book.

“I still can’t believe I was making fried chicken and not cordon bleu,” he sighed.

“Oh you were making the right dish.”

Karl slowly brought down the book, revealing a raised eyebrow and a face full of suspicion.

“Somebody had to get you off the hook.” Karl grumbled and gave me that silly frown of his. “It’s not my fault your easily tricked. Really now, have a little more faith in yourself will you?”

Karl said nothing more. He put down the book, got up and began rooting through all the cabinets.

“What are you doing?”

The necromancer gathered a new set of ingredients and pointed at the book. It was opened to a brand new recipe. On that gave me fond memories of the old world.

“Kelly and her friends will be back soon. That stupid bird broke even the oven!”

He set down all the ingredients and handed me a box of matches.

“As punishment for tricking me earlier, you and your magic will be our new oven,” he smiled and began messing with the ingredients.

“Alright. But I am monitoring you this time.” I smiled back. “No sneezing.”

“Relax old buddy. I’ve got it all under control!”

Oh dear.

It must have been 2 hours since we started cooking that dish. As the timer went off and I was finally released of my fire duties the sound of tiny footsteps could be heard galloping in the distance.

Karl brought out our concoction and began slicing it accordingly.

“It’s not really supposed to be square…” he said as he continued slicing. “But hey dare to be different!”

How my old friend ended up making square pizza instead of cordon bleu will forever baffle my mind! But really it’s what makes each day with my friend all the more interesting.