The Mehliad

Chapter 20
Continuing the tale of young Dan Fogelberg (no not that one), who fell asleep in a storm and woke in a fantastical, creepy land. Beyond that, your guess is as good as ours.

We traveled overland into the Yonic Valley until we reached a small village that smelled absolutely amazing, even from the air. Our ship docked and we found ourselves surrounded by women who stared at us suspiciously.

“Greetings,” I said in my friendliest voice, “We are travelers seeking to find our way home. I come from a land called Texas. Have you heard of it?”

“The land with like three reproductive health clinics for almost 300,000 square miles?”

“Yes!” I exclaimed before realizing I should probably not sound so excited about that fact, “Yes, it…uh, it is an imperfect land, but it’s my home. And I need to get back. To, uh, vote. For progressive voices.”

“He speaks falsehoods!” shrieked the chieftess, “He is no ally to the sisterhood! He brings the patriarchy!”

“Unleash the Lindy!”

“No, I swear, I donated to Wendy Davis!” It was too late. The women turned on us, gnashing their teeth and brandishing knives. We turned to flee when the chant rose up from the valley. We kicked off and left the valley, no closer to home, as an unholy, guttural shriek reverberated over the hills. I turned to my beleaguered crew.

“Any other ideas?”

“There are other villages on the continent. Hope isn’t lost!” Somehow, I couldn’t muster much enthusiasm for Goggles’ optimism.