Chapter 16 | Page 20a: Karaoke Chaos
When karaoke night meets office politics, not everyone’s hitting the right notes.
Desdemona tries to make peace by inviting Cassie to the team's legendary karaoke night—but Count Spurlock isn’t thrilled about shaking up their sacred setlist. Can the group harmony survive a surprise guest… and a few bruised egos?
Transcript
Narration box:
I know... You want to see what happened at karaoke. So let's backtrack a bit.
Panel 1:
(Count Spurlock and Desdemona at their desks)
Count Spurlock: How did your apology to Cassie go?
Desdemona: Great! She's coming to karaoke tonight!
Panel 2:
(Count Spurlock looks alarmed, pointing)
Count Spurlock: You can't invite her to our end-of-the-quarter karaoke bash!
Desdemona: Why not??
Panel 3:
(Count Spurlock, arms crossed, angry)
Count Spurlock: Because she's management! We blow off steam, complain about bonuses, and scream-sing Bon Jovi. She doesn't belong!
Panel 4:
(Count Spurlock continues passionately)
Count Spurlock: Besides... adding Cassie will completely throw off our arrangement of "Bohemian Rhapsody."
Panel 5:
(Desdemona shrugs, dismissively)
Desdemona: Oh, poo. She can have my part. It doesn’t take much skill to say "Galileo! Galileo!"
Panel 6:
(Count Spurlock points dramatically)
Count Spurlock: When you had the "Beelzebub" part, you accidentally summoned him!
Desdemona: You're just mad he’s a better tenor than you.
Panel 7:
(Count Spurlock throws up his arms in frustration and storms away.)
Count Spurlock (yelling): AARRGH! This is gonna be "Cell Block Tango" all over again!
Desdemona (making a pinching gesture with her fingers): squish.
Evil Inc Flash Fiction
I decided to challenge myself to write a somewhat longer story to accompany some of my commissions. This flash fiction is a bite-sized story you can read in under five minutes — perfect for a quick slice of spicy storytelling. Here’s an excerpt from another upcoming installment.
The Tunnel of Love had seen better days.
The paint was chipped, the animatronic swans were missing eyes, and the sign overhead flickered like it was about to give up the ghost. But when Desi saw it, her grin stretched wide and wicked.
“Oh yes,” she purred, grabbing Iron Dragon by the arm. “We’re doing that.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Really? That thing looks like tetanus in ride form.”
“I’m a demon,” she said, tugging him forward. “I laugh in the face of rust.”
The bored teenager running the ride waved them through without so much as a glance. The park was quiet — late evening in the off-season — and they’d practically had the whole midway to themselves since dinner. The little boat was barely afloat as it rocked in the water, sliding into the tunnel’s gaping wooden mouth. Inside, everything turned dim and dappled. Neon-painted stars glowed faintly overhead. Faux-stalactites dripped dust. A recorded violin loop whined from a half-working speaker, warbling on repeat like a couple of romantic ghosts were slow-dancing nearby.
“I think we’re the only ones on the ride,” Iron Dragon said, glancing around.
Desi didn’t respond immediately.
This is a great time to join us.