“Order, order, we have a full agenda here and I need to get out of here on time to pickup Allie from basketball practice. First welcome to the Harkford Island Town Council meeting. I need a motion to approve last meeting’s minutes,” Mayor Stan Caldwell said.

A flurry of grumblings and a few hoots accompanied the motion. Every seat was taken in the large hall and the overflow stood in the back. Harkford was a rough hewn fishing town that had moved from cod to tourism. Only one in three residents were supernaturals, mostly harpys but screeching bird women could be a very vocal minority.

“Quiet, now first on the agenda is the new crosswalks by Pennlock Park,” Stan said.

Now the groans were deafening. Someone released a death shriek from the back row of Saint Gall’s parish hall.

“Tank, you’d better move this along before I kill this mayor my damn self,” Agent Tess Morganna whispered to her teammate.

“Mayor Caldwell could we skip one or twenty agenda items? My team was flying home from the UK when we got diverted here to Canada. Let’s get to work. We received a report that there has been a series of acts of vandalism.”

“The humans put my stapler in jello!” Said a harpy with a pink buzz cut and matching pink-tipped wings.

“Stapler my ass, Swiftfoot, one of you myths signed me up for the Barry Manilow fan club at my job, not cool,” the hipster human with chunky glasses and a suede fedora said.

“Cry me a river Derek some dirty human broke into my perch and pasted photos of Steve Buscemi over my face in all my photos.” A heavily pregnant harpy shouted. “Buscemi, dammit.” She twitched her satiny black wings in agitation. Her partner rubbed her back in sympathy.

“Take it easy babe. Don’t let this get to you DarkWing think of our egg.”

“I know I’ve been sheltered but Manilow is pretty mellow,” Dr. Lee Tabitha whispered.

“Mos def and I love Steve Buscemi. He made Air Con,” Teddi said.

The parish hall, full of shouting and pin feathers, was in chaos.

Mayor Caldwell banged his gravel until a rush of russet feather stormed the podium and whisked it away.

Sheriff Aldophus gave his sergeant a nod. Sgt. Jimmy Thunderbird stood and laid a soothing bass line over the bickering crowd. Soon Derek broke into a heartfelt rendition of “I Write the Songs” and the crowd of angry residents joined it.

Tess gaped in amazement. Music spells encourage calm not singalongs. Either this was the most susceptible group of humans and mythological creatures in North America or they have already been cursed. Who would do this and why?, Tess thought. Tess and Tank exchanged worried looks.

Lee jumped up and shouted, “Encore!”