A Symphony unto Oneself

A Symphony unto Oneself

Chapter 8

     The Story The Authors
Then Mr Tickles broke off his reverie. It would have solved his dilemna, but such was not his choice.
In calm answer to L'il Debbie's song Donavan let loose a gentle rain of carob chips to rain down upon the water, smiling softly to himself as fat iridescent carp rose to the surface to greedily snap them up.
Mr Tickles began to hyperventilate. Panic began to swell in his heart as he gently bobbed in the still waters as the giant carp nibbled at his toe tips. Love in both extremes was beckoning to him from either direction. The full panapoly of sensual pleasure and pain was within reach of his tiny fists but he could only have one or the other. Good Vibes or Wicked Pleasure. But which one? Which One?
At that moment a pair of dolphins rose up, one beneath either of the dwarf's feet, and raised him above the surface of the water. A lone cherub handed the microphone to Mr. Tickles with a giggle, and (while the orchestra rose up behind him in the most zephyrous of accompaniments) the dwarf began, in earnest, to sing a song of his predicament:

You might not think
That little people have feelings
When your 14-foot ceilings
Are too high for us to reach

But just because
I'm of a quite diminutive race
Doesn't mean you can kick sand in my face
When we go to the beach

[the crew of the Ignavia joined in on the chorus]
I may be three foot four
But I'm seven feet of hu-man
And I know the words to that damn song by Ran-dy New-man!
Chuck me under my chin,
Toss me 'cross the room for money,
But when I bite your kneecaps will you still think it's so funny?


At these solemn pronouncements, Donovan and Li'l Debbie began to advance upon the dwarf, the former atop a giant solar-powered Mung bean, and the latter (having shed her clothes for the more appropriate garb of a rising Venus) on the half-shell of a giant clam, attended to by a small swarm of cupids who, though gigglingly inept, did mostly manage to keep the mischievous ocean breezes from exposing Debbie's radiantly mossy pudenda to the eyes of the sailors.
Then Donovan began to pluck upon a sitar and sing:
any Love is good love
if you'll take what you can get
And I'll look at you with my big brown eyes
And say you ain't seen nothin' yet...
"Eeeeee ee ee eeeeee!" said one dolphin to the other. "Ee ee ee ee ee ee ee." the other dolphin agreed. The dolphin pair carrying Mr. Tickles on their backs swam away, much to the dwarf's chagrin. He was just about to propose a threesome with Li'l Debbie and Donovan but now he was a captive of the dolphins. Looking back over his shoulder he could see Li'l Debbie inviting Donovan into her clam shell and the rode off into the sunset together. "Damn!" Mr. Tickles grumbled. He hadn't seen any action since the Meredith affair and he was feeling mighty frustrated. cuddles
"Turn that goldarned radio down!" screamed Cap'n Cupcake at an impertinent sailor who'd climbed the mizzenmast with a transistor radio and was searching through the multitude of Classic Rock stations, trying to tune in to a Brooklyn Dodgers game from his father's boyhood.
The sailor leapt up, forgetting where he was, losing his grip on both the radio and the rigging, and immediately plummeted to his dismemberment, death and ingestion in the shark-infested waters. The radio descended deckwards and bopped Cap'n Cupcake right on his spongey, chocolatey noggin.
"Shiver me timbers and dip me chaf¸d john-thomas in brine, if that sailor weren't already in Davey Jones' locker, upon me mother's dorsal fin I declare I'd 'ave 'im keel-'auled!"
After several hours of riding on the dolphins' backs, Mr. Tickles needed to sit down. The dolphins sensed this and carried the little man to a small desert island where they dropped him off and left him. "Hey!" Mr. Tickles called after them. "Don't leave me here alone!" "Eeeeee eeee ee eeeee!" the dolphins called back to him as they swam away but Mr. Tickles couldn't understand dolphinese. He fell to his knees and sobbed pitiously. cuddles

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