“This is not how I wanted to spend my Saturday,” Marco Diaz muttered as he pushed a broom across the bedroom floor of his best friend and extra-dimensional roommate, Star Butterfly.

The room had been covered wall to wall in green, glittery gunk spewed by Star’s wand–the end result of an examination of it combined with an obtuse and esoteric class in wandless magic by Star’s teacher, Sir Glossaryck of Terms. Luckily, Marco was handy with a push broom and Star was handy with cutting holes into other realities where they could dump the junk.

He looked over at Star, who was being assisted by several small and excited puppies in pushing more of the collected piles of glitter into a swirling hole in the center of her room.

“Hey Star, if your wand’s actually broken, don’t you think you should get it fixed?” he asked, sweeping the last of the magical goop into a portal carved into the middle of Star’s floor. He was wearing an apron and a face mask–to avoid breathing in strange fumes–in addition to his favorite red hoodie and brown skinny jeans.

Star was on the other side of the hole in the floor, pushing more of the green mess into it with a broom. “Well, Glossaryck wasn’t too worried about it. He just said it was broken.”

Marco wasn’t sure about the assurance from the little man from Star’s Magic Instruction Book, the massive jewel-encrusted tome sitting closed on her bed. “That guy is obtuse and speaks in metaphors; you think he might be low-balling the problem because it’s some kind of test?”

Star pushed the last of the mess her wand made all over her room into the portal. “Pshaw, ‘speaks in metaphors.’ Really, Marco? He only speaks English and Mewnman.”

Did Star know what a metaphor was? Thinking about it and knowing Star, he realized that was a silly question with an obvious answer. “We should at least go to Quest Buy to see if we can get it repaired, I think. Mage Squad might know how to fix it.”

“It’s fine,” Star insisted.

“It’s been acting out all morning. It literally flew out of the bathroom and all over the house before Glossaryck got a gold of it,” Marco pointed out.

“I know, but if he says it’s broken, but won’t fix it? Then Mage Squad definitely can’t.” She held the wand aloft. “But it still works, watch! Radiant Shadow Transform!”

Marco yelped when she aimed the wand at him. “Star wait-!”

In a flash Marco transformed. His hoodie and skinny jeans flashed into a lovely and poofy ball gown in two shades of violet, his brown hair sprang out in great volume until it reached his waist length tied into a ponytail, and his face was touched with the faintest enchantments leaving him strikingly beautiful–a true princess.

Princess Marco looked down at himself. “Princess Marco-?! Star!”

“See? The wand still works!” Star tossed it to herself in victory, and in a rare moment of clumsiness missed the catch, causing her to scramble to secure it. “Whoa, oh no!”

Marco folded his arms. “Okay, but can you change me back?”

Star aimed the wand at his face. “Watch.”

In a flash of light, Marco was still Princess Marco, but also a centaur, the lower half of his dress now filled out over a horse’s body.

Marco looked down at himself, and sighed. “This is just how today’s going to be, isn’t it?”

“I am so sorry,” Star prefaced everything that was about to happen.

Marco resigned himself to the subsequent hijinks. “It’s fine, try again.”

Star aimed the wand again and transformed Marco into Princess Marco, but now a tiny butterfly.

“I was wrong! This is weird! Too weird!” Marco shrieked in a small, high-pitched voice as he fluttered around with big, purple wings.

“Uh…! Hang on! Hang on!” Star zapped Marco again into Princess Marco, but now a blob of purple slime in a matching dress.

“Try it again!” Marco gurgled.

Star did so, turning Marco into Princess Marco, but a large werewolf with brown fur, gnashing jaws lined with razor sharp teeth, and a large powerful physique tightly wrapped in a beautiful violet dress.

Star stared agape at the primal physique. “Ooh, the She-Wolf of St. Olga’s.”

He looked down at himself and held up a clawed paw. “Wait, hold on, this one’s kind of cool.”

Star had no intention to, but the wand went off on its own, turning Werewolf Princess Marco back to Princess Marco.

Princess Marco looked down at himself then back at Star.

“We need to get it fixed.” They agreed in unison.

Star looked at the wand, huffed, and walked over to her bed and the Magic Instruction Book. “But like I said: if Glossaryck can’t fix it, I don’t think Mage Squad can.”

Marco disagreed as he followed her. “I think he can, he just won’t tell us how or why. All weird mentor guys are like that.”

Sitting on the bed next to the book, Star flopped backward onto it and sighed. “Glossaryck, how do I fix my wand?”

From the book, a muffled voice replied. “To fix the wand and set magic free, the piece displaced must be cleaved.”

“See? Obtuse and speaks in metaphors! But all we have to do is that, and we’ll fix it.”

Star looked up from her wand at Marco. “What does that even mean?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know, but if I had to guess? Something that’s missing needs to be cut in half.”

“No, I mean metaphors. What are those?”

Marco opened his mouth to answer, stopped, then sighed. “Metaphor, noun, a figure of speech in which a word or phrase is applied to an object or action to which it is not literally applicable.”

Star worked that out in her head for about two and a half seconds. “Wait, that’s it?”

“That is the literal definition.” Marco headed for the door. “I’m going to change my clothes. Want to go to the park?”

Star brightened. “Yes! Meet you downstairs–and I will fix this!”

“Right, right…” Not two steps out into the hallway, Marco ran into his mother as she was bending down to drop off a basket full of his clothes fresh from the dryer. Angie Diaz had heard his voice as it opened.

“Marco, I just finished with your clean clothes for the-” She stopped and gave a bit of a start seeing her son dressed as such a lovely young woman. “Oh!”

Today was now perfect. “Uh… hi Mom?”

Angie looked Marco over, and uncertainty flashing over her gentle features.

Stolen novel; please report.

He wasn’t too concerned. It looked weird, but there was an entirely rational reason (relatively speaking) for this, and this was not weird. “Look, I can explain…”

Angie held up her hand. “Marco, there is nothing you need to explain, it’s all right.”

She rested that hand on his poofy-dressed shoulder. “You look absolutely lovely, and if you need some advice about how to look or acclimate…”

Marco sighed. “Mom, it’s fine, don’t worry. Star just did a magic thing… it’s not…”

Angie snatched her hand back. “Oh, I wasn’t worried!”

“Are you sure? Because you seemed-”

“No, nonono, I just didn’t expect to see you in a dress!”

Much quieter, she added: “Or that you’d be so beautiful…”

“What was that-?”

“Marco, clothes.” She picked up the basket again and shoved it into his arms. Taking the hint, Marco stumbled into his room and bumped the door closed with his hip.

Standing there in the hallway, Angie quietly mulled over the unexpected encounter and concluded. “Raphael and I should try for a girl…”

@@@@@

“Are you sure you don’t want me to fix it?” Star asked Marco. The two of them were on their way the short distance to Echo Creek Park from the Diaz home.

Back in another red hoodie and brown skinny jeans, Marco looked like himself again, though he was still breathtakingly beautiful, and his hair remained in its long-flowing ponytail down his back. Despite this, he wasn’t upset.

“We can do it after we know the wand will work. Besides, being Princess Marco is okay,” Marco admitted before looking at his reflection in the window of a business. “You see this? I look great.”

Star watched the air sparkle around Marco, and her eyes started to sparkle too. “Oh yeahyeahyeahyeah.”

She looked down at her wand, thinking to herself. I’ve messed up spells before. So what if I can’t change Marco back right now? I’ll fix it later…

She closed her eyes, her thoughts darkening with her frustration. Stupid Glossaryck. How is it broken? How do I fix it?! What the heck do I have to cleave to set magic free?! Magic isn’t even in a cage! Is it?

“When we get to the park, you should do target practice with your new wand.” Marco’s voice interrupted her thoughts. “That way, when we’re sure it works…”

She lit up. “We’ll change you back! Good idea, Marco.”

“We’ll just find a clear spot where it’s safe…” Marco paused as he heard a distressing sound–like a horse crying at the top of its lungs, its voice pitching and cracking in weird ways as it hollered.

“What… what is that?”

“It sounds like Warnicorns fighting, or mating.” Star paused for just a moment. “Honestly it’s hard to tell what’s happening even if you’re there.”

Marco did not want to visualize the reproductive habits of warnicorns. “Let’s go find… it?”

He trailed off because they abruptly came upon it the second they reached the park’s car lot. On the grass in front of an SUV that probably cost as much as the Diaz home, a curly-haired blonde kid their age was screaming and crying, pounding on the grass with one hand while clutching his cheek with the other.

Another kid, a little bit taller than Marco and more well-built, was standing over him with an uncertain expression. Next to them both, their chauffeur had a stiff expression trying to not break into a satisfied smile.

Marco recognized the crying horse of a young man on the spot and muttered. “Aw man, what’s he doing here?”

Star leaned over. “Who’s here?”

Marco looked at her. “You know how Brittney Wong is an aggravating narcissist who ruthlessly treats people like crap and that they should be grateful for it?”

Star nodded. “Yes, she acts just like my Aunt Etheria… but she’s a nine instead of a two.”

Marco cocked an eyebrow at Star holding Brittney in such high esteem aesthetically, but moved on. “Yeah, I’d rather go through two weeks locked in a room with Brittney Wong before I spend any amount of time with this tragedy of affluenza.”

Star thought it over. “I mean, yeah? You’re spending two weeks locked in a room with a nine, and he’s probably a six on a good day…” She looked back at Trip, in the midst of his stomping tantrum. “Which is not today.”

He rolled his eyes. “Star, you’re missing the point. Let’s just go-”

Star was already walking over to him.

“Star!”

Trip, still neck deep in his hysterics, ripped the grass from the ground with his free hand. “WHO DOES THAT? WHO HITS PEOPLE LIKE THAT?! WHO DID THAT GUY THINK HE WAS?! I’M TRIP VANDERHOFF, MY DAD OWNS HALF THIS CITY!”

“Dude, chill…” Van said, before he noticed Star.

“HE CAN’T HIT ME! NOBODY HITS ME!”

Star leaned over him. “Whoa, who hit you?”

Van quickly threw up his hands, in a desperate bid to wave Star back. “Hey, no! Get away from him!”

Trip looked up, and in his anger didn’t register who he was talking to. “GET THE HELL AWAY FROM ME! I CAN BUY AND SELL YOU, YOU DUMB BIMBO!”

“Oookay?” Star pulled back and leaned towards Marco. “Who is this strange horse boy?”

Marco didn’t bother whispering back. “He’s just another rich kid in LA. Don’t interact with him and let’s just keep moving.”

Trip stopped his braying and stared at them both. He was frozen in place by the vision in front of him. All his pain and woes were forgotten the moment her face registered. Even the afternoon day seemed brighter.

Van was silent for a different reason. Trip had told off the magical princess from another dimension who went to their school, and rightfully feared that she was going to invoke a thorny doom from beneath the crust of the Earth.

Fortunately for him, dooms thorny or otherwise weren’t in the cards at all. Marco looked from Star to Trip and raised a hand in a reassuring gesture. “Look, we’re sorry for walking in on whatever… this is, but we’ll be going–”

Trip took off his glasses and began wiping his eyes. “No, no wait… I am so sorry you had to see me like this. I am usually much better composed…”

Van’s mouth dropped open. “Uhh…”

The brothers’ Chauffeur–struggling not to laugh–watched in silence.

Marco nonchalantly brushed it off. “It’s okay, man, we all have bad days.”

Star agreed. “And bad days can still have good endings! You just need to smile and look on the bright side! So, get on up there, wipe away those tears, and seize your day!”

Marco hooked his arm in front of him in encouragement. “Exactly, do something that’ll take your mind off whatever happened.”

“Go play in the park, draw some rainbows…” Star raised a clenched fist. “Get revenge!”

Marco placed his hand over her fist and lowered it. “Turn it down just a notch.”

“Oh… right…” Star looked aside and let out an awkward laugh.

Trip got up. “Thanks for the advice. I’m really sorry, again.”

“Like I said, it’s fine. Don’t worry.” Marco turned to Star. “I think we should go somewhere a little more isolated. The park might not be the best place to practice with your wand.”

“We can try somewhere else?”

Marco had an idea. “I know, there’s this old house up near the mountains. No one goes around there, come on.”

He left and as Star followed, she looked back at Trip, Van, and their Chauffeur and mouthed “Get revenge! All of the Revenge!” with a raised clenched fist.

“Star!” Marco had caught her.

“What?!”

Marco rolled his eyes, then called to Trip. “You got this man, don’t forget!”

Trip watched them go, and he could hear gentle, romantic soft rock in the air in the wake of the radiance that traipsed into his life and out of it again. “Yeah… okay…”

Van was at a loss. Trip’s tantrums were something only money could stop. “Are you okay? For a second, I thought Dad would be buying you a stealth fighter to calm you down.”

He edged closer to his brother, watching Star and Marco leave with a doe-eyed look, and cleared his throat quietly. When he didn’t respond, Van reached out and waved his hand in front of Trip’s face.

“Uh… Trip? Bro?”

“Who was she…?”

Van followed Trip’s gaze, before snapping back to his brother. “Who…? Dude, that was the magic chick. You know, Star Butterfly?”

Trip looked up at him like the man was a god damned moron. “I know who she is! Who was that other girl, the super-hot Latina in the skinny jeans?”

That warranted another double take, Van looking in the direction Marco and Star went. “Uhm…”

“God, she was cuter than Heather. I’ve never seen her around before.”

Van looked back. “I’m pretty sure that was the guy she lives with, Marcel or something.”

Trip sneered in disgust. “Well, you’re wrong.”

“But…”

Trip held his hand up in Van’s face and closed his eyes to put a picture of Star’s ever-present companion in his mind. “Marcel is what… twice as heavy and has a unibrow? He doesn’t speak much English, either.”

“No, I think you’re mistaking him for the landscaper-”

“Perhaps she’s his sister?” Their driver interrupted, just to stir the pot.

Van looked at the black-suited old man. “He doesn’t have a sister, Duncan… I think?”

“It’s Dudley, sir,” the chauffeur corrected.

“Whatever.”

Not even the dull ache of his jaw bothered Trip now. “When I find out who she is, I’m definitely asking her to the dance.”

Van’s mouth fell open again. “… Wait, what about Heather?”

Trip huffed and tossed his shoulders in a shrug. “What about that bad investment? If that fat joke Andrew is Heather’s type, I’ll just go and rub it in her face when I show up with that goddess.”

Space Unicorn~! Soaring through the Stars~!

Trip pulled his smartphone from his pocket and frowned when he saw the ID. He looked at his brother. “Why would Zoom Comics be calling me?”

Van shrugged his shoulders.

Dudley spoke up. “I believe it’s because you left your comic book behind, Master Trip.”

He had watched everything that happened in the store from outside, with the biggest smile on his face. It threatened to come back when Trip turned and violently swatted his brother upside his head. “You left the comic behind, you idiot!”

Van shrank back from the blow. “Hey, I was busy trying to back you up!”

“And a fat lot that did, doofus!” Trip lowered his hand, seething. “Great, now I have to go back there to Andrew, his dumb friends, and that Pine Tree…!”

Trip stopped. He just so happened to be looking in the direction of the Los Angeles mountains, the same direction Star and the skinny jeans girl went off in. Remembering what she had said about an old house, and what he knew about it, a grin spread slowly across his lips with the formulation of a plan.

“Seize the day, indeed,” he said as he brought his ringing phone up and thumbed the Accept button.