Inside, the cramped goblin shop smelled like ink, lemon rinds, and cheap mischief.
Blink Wartskew barely looked up from his battered sales ledger.
"Welcome to Ledger Laughs," he said, voice flat as a pressed toad. "Please ignore the weeping hat. Clearance table's left."
Miri Calverton, newly eighteen and full of slumber party plans, zipped inside like a puppy who'd just discovered slippers.
Her mother, Dana Calverton, entered more cautiously, casting wary glances at the floating signage that read things like:
"BUY ONE, LOSE A MEMORY FREE!"
"Minimal Life Taxation Guaranteed!"
"Fine Print Fine-Tuned!"
"Mom, come on," Miri said, already gravitating toward a shelf stacked with shiny, mischievous packaging. "Everybody gets goblin party packs these days! Sylvie’s older sister had, like, three at her birthday!"
Dana frowned. "Couldn't we just get a nice—" she waved a hand vaguely, "—non-binding, non-misfortune sort of... something?"
Blink shuffled over, eyeing them with the deadened interest of a man six months past caring. "Depends how exciting you want the night to be, ma'am. We got for random effects. We got the — classic. We got , , ..."
"See, Mom? Classic!" Miri beamed. "We should totally get the dreidel! And maybe a Grab Bag? Ooh, and that thing too—" she pointed wildly at a glowing jar labeled:
"Mystery Juice: Drink Responsibly... or Hilariously."
Dana pinched the bridge of her nose. "Really, Miri? You don’t want just a nice enchanted board game? A singing scrabble set?"
Miri snorted. "Mom. This is my first official grown-up slumber party. We need "
Blink nodded solemnly, as if "chaos" were an itemized sale.
"Good pick," he said. "Grab Bag’s a mixed lot — maybe you'll get nail polish that makes you hover. Maybe your hair turns invisible. Maybe you'll laugh until your eyebrows fall off. Y'know. Fun."
Dana sighed like a woman handing her house keys to a polite tornado.
"...Fine. One dreidel. One grab bag. But absolutely full-sentence curses, understand?"
Blink scribbled on a tiny contract pad. "Sign here. Side effects optional. Warnings mandatory."
Miri signed with a flourish. Dana signed with her soul.
The slumber party had shrunk from a hundred guests to just four stubborn survivors:
- Miri herself (birthday girl)
- Sadie Winters (the sarcastic one)
- Opal Vern (the gullible one)
- Tansy Bellman (the practical one, supposedly)
The living room was strewn with blankets, discarded plates of cake, and the occasional glowing sock (they they hadn't bought anything sock-related).
Miri plopped the Goblin Dreidel of Dares
"Alright, who's first?" she grinned.
Opal hugged a pillow to her chest. "What's it do again?"
"Spin it," Sadie said, already cracking open the Grab Bag. "Then fate laughs."
The dreidel glowed faintly. Runes sparkled across its sides:
Tansy crossed her arms. "Reminder: no full-sentence curses, Miri. Your mom was "
"Relax," Miri said, spinning the dreidel with a flourish.
It spun.
It whirled.
It jittered like it was having second thoughts.
Then, "SPEECHLESS!"
The girls screamed and giggled. Miri opened her mouth to protest, and nothing came out but a silent, shocked
Sadie practically fell over. "Oh gods, she’s a mime! It’s beautiful!"
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Miri made increasingly desperate gestures, flapping her arms like a bird stuck in a window frame.
Meanwhile, Opal tugged something sparkly from the Grab Bag:
A glittering hair clip shaped like a star.
"Ooh! What's this do?" she asked.
Sadie squinted. "Probably makes your hair sing or something. Try it!"
Opal clipped it into her hair—and immediately lifted three inches off the ground, hovering like a balloon.
"Guys—GUYS?!"
She drifted slowly toward the ceiling fan.
Tansy groaned, facepalming. "And we’re telling your mom about this."
Miri, still mute, laughed so hard she collapsed backward onto a pile of enchanted pillows, one of which immediately turned into a squawking chicken.
Somewhere, faintly, the goblin shop’s Fine Print Clause #18 activated:
"Unexpected poultry not eligible for refund."
And the night had only just begun.
The Dreidel sat in the center of the chaos like a tiny goblin judge, smugly spinning itself back to a resting position.
Miri finally regained her voice with a soft pop, and her first words were a triumphant, ""
Opal, still floating awkwardly at ceiling level, tried to fold her arms. ""
Sadie was giggling too hard to be useful.
Tansy sighed, grabbed a broomstick, and batted Opal gently toward the couch, where she deflated like a slow balloon and landed with an undignified squawk.
Everyone howled with laughter again.
Sadie took the dreidel next.
"" she declared, spinning it with wild flair.
It spun—
Clattered—
And landed on:
"SNACK SWAP!"
In an instant, all their snacks blinked and reshuffled.
Opal’s lemonade was now fizzy grape soda.
Tansy’s popcorn became a bowl of marshmallow-stuffed cheese puffs.
Sadie stared in horror at her new snack: a small plate of pickled onions.
"" Sadie gasped at the dreidel.
Miri wiped tears from her eyes, wheezing. ""
Sadie bravely took a bite. Instantly her hair puffed out like an offended cat.
"THAT," she gasped, ""
Opal, emboldened by her earlier hover adventure, spun next.
The dreidel spun like it had something to prove.
It around the blanket circle, sparking little goblin sigils as it went.
It slowed...
slowed...
and landed on:
"MYSTERY GIFT."
A flash of golden light exploded above them.
They all shrieked—and when the smoke cleared, there was a floating goblin party hat Glittery.
Offensively cheerful.
It lowered itself gently—like a moth descending—until it perched squarely on Miri's head.
There was a dramatic pause.
Then:
The hat played a fanfare on invisible trumpets.
A giant goblin voice (cheerful and nasal) echoed from nowhere:
"CONGRATULATIONS, BIRTHDAY GIRL! YOU WIN THE GRAND PRANKER'S PRIZE!
The living room carpet turned purple.
The lights sparkled.
A small rain of candy confetti fell gently over the girls.
Tansy just flopped backward onto a pillow. ""
Sadie was laughing too hard to breathe.
Opal was scooping candy off the floor with both hands.
Miri just sat there, hat lopsided, basking in victorious, ridiculous glory.
"" she declared.
By the time the carpet turned back to normal (mostly) and the candy was scooped into a vaguely sticky bowl, the girls were spent.
The dreidel, after its grand performance, spun one final time lazily on its own—
—and cracked neatly down the middle.
A tiny puff of smoke rose up.
The goblin sigils fizzled into nothingness.
Tansy blinked. ""
Miri shrugged, utterly at peace. "" she said solemnly, like announcing a fallen hero.
Sadie saluted it with her half-empty marshmallow puffs.
"" she whispered.
They gathered themselves, wrapped in oversized pajamas and clutching their prizes and snacks. Miri popped open the Skry Mirror mounted on the far wall.
"" she asked.
"" Sadie, Opal, and Tansy said in chorus.
Miri scrolled through the Scry Network listings until she found "A Mermaid’s Heart: The Song of Secrets"
They piled onto the couch with heaping bowls of slightly-confetti-flavored popcorn and the salvaged marshmallow cheese puffs.
Outside, the night deepened. Somewhere, Blink Wartskew no doubt closed his shop for the evening with a grunt and a mental tally of how many slumber parties he’d accidentally fueled tonight.
Inside, the last magic sparkles faded into the cozy hum of friendship, junk food, and off-key singalongs.
And for Miri Calverton, eighteen and free and laughing in the glow of goblin mischief, it was exactly the night she had wanted.
___________
Postscript: "Just Another Day at Ledger Laughs"
Three days later, back at Ledger Laughs, the brass bell gave its usual miserable wheeze. Blink Wartskew glanced up from polishing the cursed clearance bin. A finely dressed courier marched in, dropped a scroll onto the counter with great ceremony, and left without a word.
Blink sighed, unrolled it, and read:
Official Complaint:
Ledger Laughs and Curious Contracts,
It has come to our attention that your Goblin Dreidel of Dares product caused:
Unscheduled Snack Transmogrification
Temporary Aerial Displacement of Minors
An Unauthorized Chicken Manifestation
Emotional Turbulence via Confectionary Weather
Please submit a written response within 30 days explaining how this falls under your "92.7% Harmless" guarantee.
Blink scratched his chin thoughtfully.
He dipped his pen into a cracked inkwell, pulled out a form labeled "Standard Goblin Response #7: Allegations of Frivolous Fracas," and scrawled across it:
"Dear Council,
All listed side effects fall under the 'Optional Fun Clause.'
You’re welcome.
Sincerely,
Management."
He shoved it into the outbox, dusted his hands off, and went back to reorganizing the Gigglegrams.
The bell snorted again. Another group of giggling teenagers tumbled through the door. Blink sighed the sigh of a goblin who knew exactly what kind of night he was about to enable. Business as usual.