Joleyn Pinkruffle knew he’d die shortly and it really annoyed him. ‘If you’re listening, I’m not having this. You said, if ever I wanted to trade my soul…’
‘Right, it’s a soul for three wishes…’
‘YOU’RE HARDLY IN A POSITION TO BARGAIN. ONE WISH.’
‘HE’S ABOUT TO SHOOT.’
‘Oh come on. It’s a good soul. Barely used.’
‘Alright. Can I make it?’
‘I want to be a Masked Avenger.’
Joleyn blinked. He was dead. The bullet had gone in one ear and out the other. But he could still see. He’d got his wish. Right, he thought, on with the mask and… He gasped. Instead of hands he had paws. ‘What have you done?’ He blinked. Had he just barked?
‘YES. YOU BARKED.’
‘I’m a masked avenger!’
‘HE’LL NOT RECOGNISE YOU. YOU’RE AN ATTACK DOG. OFF YOU GO, BOY AND AVENGE.’
Bugger, he thought but ok, he could work with this. He quickly licked his nethers – he’d always wondered about that – a bit too savoury for his taste – less bee’s knees, than dog’s…
‘ARE YOU GOING TO DO THAT ALL DAY?’
‘I’m in no rush.’ Joleyn marked the corral, surprised at his bladder control. Another upside to balance against the lack of opposable thumbs.
‘I NEVER SAID YOU’D HAVE LONG.’
‘What? That’s not fair.’
‘SEE. SEE. THERE HE IS BOY. KILL!!’
Joyeln ran off, across the dusty Main Street and hurtled at the ageing gunslinger. The greying jowls wobbled, surprise written across them. Then the gnarled killer grinned. ‘You!’
If that wasn’t bad enough, Joleyn licked the stubbly chin and felt his rear end began to, yes wag.
‘What have you done?’
‘I HAVE YOUR SOUL, REMEMBER. IF I WANT YOU TO LOVE HIM, THEN I CAN. MWAHAHAHAHAHA.’
This is part of the latest Microcosms flash fiction prompt