|The Story||The Authors|
|But, not to worry. There was plenty of TP in the john.|
"John!" gasped Jake in surprise, smacking himself on the forehead, "of course!" |
John Moriarty, the tall, athletic Junior Counselor in charge of Jake's cabin those last two summers at Camp Kamonawannalaya, who'd staged jerk-off contests among the boys, citing the shamanastic rite-of-passage roots of such ritual behavior and quoting Claude Levi-Strauss's observations of teenage boys among the hill tribes of Papaua, New Guinea as Jake and the others fiercely contested to see who could come first, who could hit the ceiling... That was where it had all begun... Thus lost in onanistic contemplation, he failed to notice events transpiring directly under his nose until it was too late for one of his hallucinations: Mr. Tickles had approached the Tooth Bitch from behind and doused her with a bucket of water. "I'm meeeellllllllllting...." she shrieked, and did just that, leaving only a pair of spiked heels and a gilded codpiece on the ground as testament to her misbegotten passage across the grey earth of Jake's guiltridden psyche. That left Mr. Tickles, whom Jake finally noticed on account of the dwarf's breath, which smelled of rancid boiled cabbage and stale cigar ash.
"Jesus Christ, you killed her," he exclaimed, still lost in summercamp reverie.
"Ah, she had it coming. C'mon kid -- let's go get a hotdog."
They wandered off down the alley. Mr tickles affectionately placed a wee hand behind Jake's knee. "What kind are we going to get?" asked Jake peacefully. "A foot long, kid, I always want a foot long. All beef tube steak. Yes sir, that's the ticket for me."|
Whilst majestic music swelled to a glorious crescendo in the background mr tickles turned to Jake and said "Kid this could be the start of good things for both of us."
"This looks like the start of a beautiful friendship," replied Jake, and they wandered westward, the lights of Nazi-occupied Casablanca gradually dwindling to nothing, in the growing distance, and darkness, behind them. |
But the night was not yet through with young Jake.
|Jake slipped an arm around his companion. "Christ, Jake," his companion cried, histrionically, "Get that thing off me, you asshole. You know I can't stand your little practical jokes." Jake dropped the arm back in the gutter where he had picked it up.|
"Christ not again," moaned Jake. "These visions, the world is once more but a magic-lantern show, mark how it slips away from me...the very air parteth before me, the bats of eventide are an army of devils, the fireflies are become whirling imps, and behind the fanglike moon there hide the great clouds of darkness, fiendish minds of antimatter and disgrace made flesh, while all around me the familiar shapes of dearly beloved friends and all that is familiar are as if new again, recombining with one another in a monstrous copulation, a living teratogenesis..." |
"Quit yer yammerin'," spat Mr. Tickles by way of reply, retrieving his fallen arm from the forest floor. "It's cybernetic. I lost the real one when I was still in the circus. Elephant stepped on it. You think you know about realpain, kiddo, think again. And by the way, I don't wanna hear you say 'copulation' again -- the word is 'fuck' -- got me?"
|From his place in the shadows Gendarme Pencilthinmoustache eyed the pair as they wandered alon. there wa something very suspicious about the pair. The detatchable arm, for instance. Why did they have to wander into his Vichey controlled precinct. His face was briefly illuminated by a match while he lit a Gaulois before he slipped into a casual gait behind them.|
As if out of nowhere, the word gendarme had appeared.
|Suddenly there was a great earthquake which split a fissure open directly beneath Jake and Mr. Tickles and they fell to their deaths and they were buried by fallen trees which then caught fire. Then a tsunami came and washed away all the ashes. Then the ghost of the Tooth Bitch floated over the scene and said "That's what you get for not brushing your teeth!" and she disappeared forever.|