Sagittarius (Nov. 22-Dec. 21)
You are Doggo, a Prohibition-era booze-maker. Maybe it's the weather, but there's a gleam in your eye, a shine on your shoe, and stars in the sky. Your heart lifts. That's right! It's that time again: bootleggin' time! Pole your loaded flatboat down the Mississippi towards that guy in rubber boots with a gun, who is hopefully one of Bloomie's runners. Just in case something's fishy, pretend to be a blundering yokel out for a romantic night on the river. "Say, Marie," you announce to the stuffed life-size doll in your arms (which you normally store under the oar-rest), "d'you think we're lost?" Wait for the password; load your lead-popper.
Capricorn (Dec. 22-Jan. 19)
You are Charlie, a layabout. Jimmy the dockman tipped you off that a boat full of coffin varnish is making its way up the Big Muddy tonight. As thanks, you whacked him. (Nobody liked Jimmy anyway.) This is your big chance to take a piece of the pie, a seat at the table, a ride on the metaphorical donkey. Climb that glittering tower of commerce and capitalism, you entrepreneur! Unfortunately, you're lost. You stumble through the unfamiliar forest just in time to lean nonchalantly against a tree by the river. A rowboat slowly approaches. Get your piece out. Smile! Hopefully the real runner won't show up!
Aquarius (Jan. 20-Feb. 18)
You're Bob, the rumrunner. Your car broke down, which is bad. Very bad. No rumrunner EVER misses a shipment. If they do, they get their toes chopped off, and Bloomie feeds them to his parrot. You race through the forest on winged feet, barely making a sound or stirring a branch. You see a guy on the riverbank. A boat rocks gently in the water. Two sweethearts in the boat. And you hear a low "Heh. Heh. Heh." that seems to be coming from a broken-down shack nearby. Hide behind a tree and see what happens.
Pisces (Feb. 19-Mar. 20)
You are Old Root, a landowner. There are varmints in the underbrush again. You can hear them scurrying about, tripping over roots, cursing in the shrubbery. Nasty little pests. Those rum runs keep happening, no matter how many holes you put in those guys. Well, it's your property. Defend your land, like the good Lord intended. He invented machine guns for a reason too, y'know. And it's your gol-danged right to blast whinging rumrunners back to Gehenna. Like that one, leaning against a tree. BANG! And those two in the boat, them too! BANG, BANG!
Aries (Mar. 21-Apr. 19)
You are a squirrel. As such, you do not understand why your forest seems to be exploding. You are very concerned.
Taurus (Apr. 20-May 20)
You are Marie, the life-size doll. You have been better, but also worse. You are philosophical about your position in life, and continue to hope for the best.
Gemini (May 21-Jun. 21)
You are Jimmy, a deceased dockman. Your ethereal witchy fingers are in every pudding now, your ears are fathoms wide. You hear the ticking of all the clocks in China; you see the opium dens, the eagles' nests, the lonely gold-paved hulls of treasure ships. It's fantastic. You hover above the forest and laugh, then fly to the mid-Atlantic to swim with some dolphins.
Cancer (June 21-July 21)
You are Loki, the Norse god of mischief and evil. You get off work in fifteen minutes. You could clock out now — nobody would really notice — but you like to take pride in your work. You watch the boozemaker, Doggo, fall out of the boat into the water with a terrific splash and swim away. You smile.
Leo (July 22-Aug. 22)
You are the cases of rum. If you were sentient, you would be surprised that you now reside in a shack by the river, along with a large doll and several squirrels.
Virgo (Aug. 23-Sept. 21)
You're the cop on the case, and you're sure you can catch Bloomie this time. The chief of police keeps telling you to get off the case, but you hang out in the woods one night and catch a rum-runner running full-tilt, panicky and gibbering. You extract from him (with a little persuasion from your brass knuckles) that he knows what Bloomie looks like and you take him downtown. Next stop: the rum joint! Your boss will be so proud.
Libra (Sept. 22-Oct. 22)
You are Charlie, the layabout. You are deceased, and regret your poor business decisions. You decide to live in a shack by the river with a large number of occupants. Jimmy the deceased dockhand comes by and taunts you sometimes; he can fly, and you can't. Luckily, you have discovered that you can make mold grow on anything, just by thinking about it. You decide to write ghostly messages in mold, and tell your story to the world!
Scorpio (Oct. 23-Nov. 21)
You are Jack Jones, aka Bloomie. There's a routine rum run tonight, but your sixth sense is caterwauling, and your parrot is hiding its head. Something's rotten in Denmark. You hear sirens wailing, and you know they're coming for you. Grab your machine gun and duck into your secret underground grotto, which conceals an elaborate network of tunnels. It would be most unfortunate if they found you here. Good thing you're the chief of police!
