|The Story||The Authors|
|Meanwhile, back in the Vatican... Down on Level VII one eminent personage reigned supreme. Cardinal Ratissimus "Ratty" Ratfinger! And he was in the foullest of foul moods! "Where are those FOOLS?", he shouted at the nearest assistant, who cringed in abject terror, nearly losing his grip on the red-hot and pulsating Iron Sausage with which he was about to enlarge another of Little Socco's orifices. Even Little Socco clanked his chains in a good-natured effort to shrug at the Cardinal. In case the question had been directed at him. The Cardinal kicked a remnant of the True Cross so hard it skittered off into a corner and clanked against the Holy Grail, which he had hurled there a few moments earlier. He was pissed! Moans, groans, and strange noises echoed abject fright from the nearby cells and holding pens. It was going to be quite a night!|
|"WHERE IS MR. TICKLES?" shouted the Cardinal. "I'm only giving you one more chance, Little Socco." He took the red-hot sausage and jabbed it at the boy's quivering body. Suddenly Little Socco pulled the costume off. The Cardinal was just a little red cardinal bird! Little Socco cast off his chains and went to look for his school. And Jenna. The girl of his dreams. Meanwhile, Jenna was relaxing in the school infirmary trying to remember how to spell relief. She didn't mind having to miss class because of a stress headache - after all, she was way ahead in every subject. Little did she know that Mr. Tickles was still alive... and seeking revenge on her!!!|
|Meanwhile,back in the Vatican...|
|the Pope, not realizing that the Lone Ranger had disguised himself as an ashtray, stomped his butt.|
|Ratfinger tore off the Cardinal bird-body suit, and re-emerged temporarily in his real manifestation as the gigantic 80 foot "Giant Rat of Sumatra"! With a slight shimmer he morphed comfortably back into his Eminence, Cardinal Ratfinger! "I TOLD you we'd get to the bottom of this!" he chortled to his slowly assembling and smiling band of associates. He bowed to their appreciative hand clapping as they slowly moved in around him to hear the next brilliant move in his scheme. Ah, yes, he was delighted with the way things were moving now. He had been convinced Little Socco was at the bottom of the whole sordid mess, and it was beginning to look as if he were right! Torture! Was there anything it couldn't do?|
Or so she thought.|
Mr Tickles for his part couldn't have given two farts for the irritating little whelp. Even a single fart would have been a stretch. The unfortunate truth of the matter was that little stalker was utterly insane and obsessed with him. He couldn't get rid of the whining brat. She was defiantly stalking him in some strange and misguided idea that he was some ultramega evil alien or some such nonsense. Everywhere he turned the pint size Xena would be appeared and challenge him to a fight. One too many episode of the warrior princess had apparently addled her prepubescent mind and now everytime he left the house she would leap at him from someplace making that truly exasperating "yip yip" Tarzan yell. It was getting to be an ordeal just to go to the corner store for a bottle of scotch. A good spanking and some electroshock therapy would definitely set her straight. But right now he had other things to worry about.
Taking a quick glance at the street outside to make sure the coast was clear Mr Tickles slipped from the door and made his way to the storage shed behind the apartment building and pulled out his minibike. He had an appointment.
|Oh, he thought, if only the handbag had not got stolen. How is he going to explain to Mistress Stretch that he'd lost her year's supply of Horny Rimmed Glasses. Mr. Tickles (better known to his friends as Licks) knew trouble when he saw it, not being as blind as most folk, and suspected that when Mistress Stretch discovered his blunder, the real price of his ineptitude would soon be revealed. Would it be too much to ask, Licks wondered, for her to at least pick a forfeit that involved some form of pleasure for one of them? Or, would she go on a rampage of pain and humiliation. At least, that would be a distraction to the Xena thing that was following him around. On arriving at Mistress Strecth's home, he parked the bike in the only empty space left on her street, locked the anti-theft device he had just purchased that morning, when Xena Warrior Princess, (the real one, not the wimpy little imposter that had been stalking him) came flying through the air with one of her now-famous yells and landed at his feet. "I've been looking for you everywhere" she said calmly and not at all out of breath. "Licks, why do you keep avoiding my emissary? I've been trying to get a message to arrange a meeting with you for the longest time. Are you trying to avoid me?" She asked standing there in all her glory, hands on hips, towering over him by at least a foot. "That's torn it" Licks replied throwing his biking gloves to the ground in frustration.|