Chapter 2
| The Story | The Authors |
|---|---|
|
"Oooooooooow!" wailed Jake. "You're hurting me." "Not as much as it's going to hurt lay-ter," giggled Rhonda, spraying his exposed chest with a slushy mash of semimasticated cabbage-bits. | |
|
It was then that the 4 metal tentacles, surreptitiously borrowed from an unaired episode of SPACE: 1999, whipped and wriggled out from underneath the bed, and, as if to add bondage to both insult and injury, Jake found himself lashed to the four bedposts. | |
| "They're heeeeeeee-eeere," intoned Wanda in her best, creepiest Poltergeist waif imitation as her shape began to waver in the air, already breaking aprt before Jake's horrified gaze, the pendulous breasts rising up alongside the head, the whole form splitting apart into three...distinct...shapes, about whom Jake began to feel the most uncanny sense of deja vu... But who? | |
| "Jake, we understand you've got a little problem" began the one on the left adjusting the pipe between his teeth. His satin smoking jacket shimmering in the reflected light from the street. "We understand you, really we do" began the second as he adjusted the tartan lap robe from the depths of his wheelchair. "And we're here to help." said the third whilst picking a bit of stray lint from amongst the forest of chest hair that spilled over his open collared shirt. A vague and sordidly trusting aura surrounded the three as the hung suspended in the air over Jake's bed. Equally vague feelings of relief and recognition filled Jake's limpid heart. "But....But...Who are you?" he finally ventured. "But don't you know us?" they gasped. "We are the masurbator's holy trinity." and starting left to right the formal introductions were made between Jake and Hugh Hiefner, FLarry Flint and Bob Guiccione. | |
| Jake couldn't believe his eyes! The three men who had been most influencial on him during his adolescence were floating above him while he was tied down to the bed. Jake thought about this again and began to feel uneasy. "Well, what are doing here? Surely you're not here to convince me to change my ways? After all if it weren't for you three and your magazines, I wouldn't have masturbated so much (or gotten so good at it for that matter) in the first place and I wouldn't be having these hallucinations now!" Hugh, Bob and Larry looked at each other and shrugged. "Gee, kid," said Hugh. "I guess you're right." "Our work here is done then." said Bob. "Carry on." said Larry as the three apparitions dissolved. "Guys? Guys!" Jake panicked. "You forgot to get me loose from this bed! Guys!" | |
| For a brief second Larry reappeared from the ether and slipping out a fresh copy of "Barely Legal" from under his lap robe he plopped it onto Jake's chest. "Keep up the good work, kid" he said and then just as quickly evaporated. Jake was alone again. The mechanical arms pinning him to the bed unrelenting. And nothing but his private thoughts and the low mechanized wheezing of the machine under the bed to keep him company. At this point he would have even preferred the inept ministrations of Rhonda to this particular brand of helpless immobility. But one is seldom in charge of one's own fate. Beneath the bed Jake's final school project for Iron Sausage Engineering 3.0 purred softly to itself. It's time had come. | |
| but jake decided his life had become weird and twisted. and so he ran. out of the bedroom thourgh the endless corridors and infiant doorways, until at last he approached the gateway to freedom. he opened the door with trepidation, only to be greeted by the sight of a hideous painting, so heinously crafted it was absolutely painful to look at. he picked up the painting and dashed it to the ground, splintering it into millions of tiny remnants of a wretched painting which reminded him only of the world from which he had escaped. he continued walking until he fell into a pulsar, upon which point he was whirled away into another yet distant dimension. he lost momentary conciousness and when he awok he saw it standing before him yet again. |
7
7