Pop Tarts: Omnibus Edition by Brian Lovestar

the device would explode into
smithereens.
    And then he had
it anonymously delivered to Felix’s apartment.
    Meanwhile Holly
(on Cherry’s sisterly advice) had rung Felix to tell him she was
coming over.
    She was going
to confess her true feelings to him.
    But the mystery
gift arrived first.
    He was puzzled
when he opened it, but assumed it was from a fan and was touched,
not for the very first time.
    He set the
record player up and was covered in fairy dust as he took the
record out of its sleeve, but laughed it off as a sweet
gesture.
    The record
dropped from the auto changer and began to play just as Holly was
coming up to the apartment in the elevator.
    As she reached
the door all she heard was a loud explosion.
    “Felix!” she
screamed as she burst in through the door.
    First she saw
smoke…
    Then she saw
fire…
    Then she
screamed again.

Chapter 16.
(Lost Boy)

    Holly waded
through the smoke and came across the burning record player.
    “Felix,” she
shouted as she looked around the flat for any sign of him.
    But there was
none.
    And eventually
the flames became so fierce she was forced to make a swift
exit.
    Crying
desperately, she rang for an ambulance.
    The next thing
she knew she was back at Cherry’s crying into a pair of Felix’s
boxer shorts that she grabbed as she ran out of the apartment.
    “This is all I
have to remember him by,” she sobbed, pressing them into her face
and breathing in the smell of his sweet testicle sweat.
    Cherry cringed
a little, but had a secret sniff herself when Holly wasn’t
looking.
    The police had
determined that the fire had been caused by faulty wiring in the
old record player. It had been fitted with the wrong amp fuse,
which is probably what set the catastrophe off, they surmised.
    The apartment
was burned to the ground and presumably Felix along with it, though
no body was found.
    Holly took a
sedative - given to her by a doctor Cherry had called in concern -
and retired to the bedroom.
    Cherry agreed
to her staying over. She didn’t want her newfound BFF to be left
alone.
    She then rang
Rhino to tell him the bad news.
    Rhino pretended
he was devastated, though he was of course delighted. Well fake
Rhino was anyway.
    The single that
was headed for no.1, stalled.
    And the tabloid
newspapers delighted in spelling the end of Felix – and the band –
themselves, no black magic necessary.
    Tequila Sun
were over.
    And Just Felix
was dead.
    Or was he?
    At that very
moment he woke up naked in the middle of the woods.
    It was late
spring and the birds were singing as sunshine nestled in through
the haze of the trees.
    He felt like he
had a hangover but couldn’t remember drinking.
    And he had no
idea why he was naked, though that wouldn’t be the first time.
    “Must have been
a good night,” he thought.
    He found a bit
of torn rag and wrapped it around his nether regions.
    “Very 80s Pop
Star,” he thought.
    And his butt
looked great in it. Something to wear on Top of the Pops, perhaps?
Or maybe even Razzamatazz?
    He wandered
into town and was more than a little perplexed.
    All of the
traffic looked old.
    “Must be a
vintage car fair going on,” he chuckled to himself as his torn rag
dropped a little, exposing a full moonshine to two wolf whistling
old ladies.
    He went to what
he thought was his apartment.
    It looked like
his apartment. Except the paint looked fresher and the door handle
was shinier.
    Then he went to
get the key out of his pocket and realised he didn’t have any. Or
the key.
    He tried the
door handle anyway, but it was locked.
    As he was about
to leave, it suddenly swung open.
    There, standing
right in front of him was himself, 27 years ago!
    “Dad?” young
Felix asked, confused.
    Felix nearly
had a heart attack, but was assuredly quick on the ball.
    “Yes son,” he
lied.
    “What are you
doing here? And where are your clothes?”
    “It’s a long
story son,” Felix replied. “Can I come in?”
    He entered the
apartment, dropping the torn