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disasters, it’s the excitement of being able to help out. Of course, there’s some work to be done first. We don’t even have a properly trained search and rescue dog. I was thinking that would be something you could help me out with, Sunshine.”
    “A dog? Now we’re talking! But why stop with just a dog? I mean, the possibilities are endless. Just look around.” Olaf bellowed his best dragon’s roar from the front yard, Kate and Wills howled their Sasquatch calls in agreement. “See? Seems like they’re all volunteering for search and rescue.”
    “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. We might be used to having paranormal pets around, but that doesn’t mean Peruvian villagers hanging on the side of a mountain aren’t going to completely wig out at the sight of flying monkeys or guitar-strumming Sasquatches riding in on galloping unicorns—”
    “Banjo, you mean banjo strumming.”
    “Oh, yeah. Excuse me. Banjo-strumming Sasquatches. In any case, I think you know what I mean, Gertie. I would like to stay away from mythical beasts. Isn’t there some magic you could use on a regular, everyday dog? Something to make it a super search and rescue animal?”
    “Oh sure! Still, I think you should seriously consider a search and rescue cat. Nothing says ‘I’m here to help’ like a nice pussy.”
    Brad made a choking sound. “Words to live by, Sunshine. How about this? Let’s see what you come up with and we’ll do a trial of sorts. You know, test out a couple different ones and see what service animal would be most useful.”
    “Good idea. I’ll get right on that this week. Randy and I will be finishing the last of the painting, too. Do you have any preference for colors in the kitchen?”
    “None whatsoever.”
    Now, I knew he didn’t necessarily have a preference, I just wanted to see if he brought up an aversion to any colors in particular. I had a color in mind, something pinkish—shockingly pinkish.
    So it goes without saying, I wasn’t about to bring up my color specifically. After that, I happily went about my morning, smiling as I imagined how bright and pink my kitchen would soon be.
    I was also quite excited about training a new magical search and rescue animal.
    “Meow.” Darcy rubbed against my leg, letting me know she’d listened in on my conversation with Brad.
    “Sorry, Darcy. Your duties are much too important already. Who’d take care of my messages? Or help me with magic spells?”
    “Meow, meow.”
    “Randy? No way could he fill your paws. But you can help by finding some volunteer candidates for the rescue animal position.”
    “Meow.”
    Darcy didn’t seem happy with my answer. As any cat person will tell you, cats are sometimes very vengeful creatures. I hoped this wouldn’t become a problem.

Chapter 3
    Can’t Predict the Fuchsia
    R andy leaned his head into the kitchen’s doorway. “Coloring time?”
    I selected a crayon from the waxy rainbow sea covering the kitchen table. “I have every color Crayola could possibly come up with. I think I’m close to finding the one I want, but they don’t exactly have the right tone.”
    “So, which one is closest?”
    “Fucks yeah.”
    “Excuse me?”
    “Fuck see ya?”
    “What the hell kind of crayons are those, Gertie?”
    Randy plucked the single purplish crayon from my hand. “Have you been sniffing glue? Fuchsia! This color’s pronounced few-sha!”
    “Okay, fuchsia then. But not quite. It needs to be shaded toward Pink Flamingo, with a touch of Purple Pizzazz.”
    “Fine. Gather up your crayons and go to Salem. I’m sure Cosmos can get the paint mixed to your liking. Just remember, you’ll need to have some lighter colors, too. If you paint every square inch of this kitchen in purply-pizzazz-pink-flamingo-fuck-see-ya, you’ll go insane.”
    Randy turned around and made it back to the door in three brisk steps. “Brad! Come see what color paint they use in Hell.”
    “What’s this?” Brad took the crayons