|The Story||The Authors|
|Downward he drifted, the foul smelling goo keeping him at least marginally
warm in the frigid waters. In the distance Roger could hear the keening
moans and whistles of a passing whalesong while below him the vague
ethereal glow of Mer rose to greet him. All was peaceful. Roger wondered
to himnself if drowning was always this pleasant as he passed through
a silver clould of young smelt.|
Whatever available light there had been was slowly being absorbed and bent by the all encompassing waters and soon only the dim and distant glow below him remained. Dark shapes that Roger could only imagine to be finned creatures passed and gently nudged his body. Guiding him towards the glow, towards something. Something resembling the aspiration of a 400lb asthmatic in August became discernable in the gloomy murk. It was geting louder as he fell. Another ever helpful and invisible sea creature gave him a gentle shove and the sound worked in to a roar and Roger was sucked into the intake shaft like so much soup into the mouth of suburban hausfrau.
and Roger found himself rather unceremoniously spat out by the intake pipeline onto concrete ledge slimy with algae. The walls glowed a dim blue as if the room were lit by St Elmo's fire. roger steadied himself on his feet. The lilting feeling of the water still fresh in his body. The ledge was slippery and seemed to wind off into the darkeness to his left.
|All his memories ached in his head. Numb flashes stung to the inside of his skull. He brofe into a sprint and turned a corner in this nightmare world. He suddenly looke downwards ,forgetting for a second his intense vertigo. A thousand streets ,paths and staircases all angled randomly lay beneath him. His ankle jolted out but he grabbed the side of the wall which was incased in green slime.|
|A light appeared at the top of set of stairs bracnhing off from another set to his left. "GO ROGER WEAVER! Head for the light!' came the Pope's tinny voice in his ears puncuated by the elusive twin giggles.|
Back on the bridge, the Cat in the Hat unzipped his Pope suit and
tossed it across the back of the nearest chair. He clapped his hands:
Thing One! Thing Two! he said: |
I do not want you to stay here!
I do not want him getting laid!
I do not want him getting laid!
He clapped his hands together again and a trap-door opened beneath the giggling Things One and Two's feet, sending them sliding through the grease-chute, through the feather-chute, and zip! out into the open air, from whence they plummeted slowly to the sea in the invisible footsteps of Roger...
|Just as they were about to plunge head first into the ocean a gust of wind caught them and transported them to a strange land with what looked like galvanized pipe growing out of the ground. There were simplistic looking flowers at various intervals growing along the hillside as well. Thing One and Thing Two looked around and were startled to hear singing (what is it with me and singing?) off in the distance. They weren't sure but it sounded like the voices were saying: "Tinkie-winkie, Tipsy, Lala, Po". What strange words were those Thing One and Thing Two wondered?|
Unsure of his footing on the slimy stairs Roger began a tentative
climb up the stairway towards the lighted doorway, his breath loud
in his ears. he heard a soft shuffle behind him. He froze. Squinting
into the faint blue aura of the room he tried to peer out the source
of the noise. The sound of stifled giggles.|
"Umm... who's there?" he called into the shadows. More stifled giggles.
|Then the lights came on; and out swam two mermaids, and when I say swam that's exactly what I mean, because (a) they were the by far the fetchingest sight Roger had ever laid eyes on (and Anita...who was she?) and because (b) as he saw them undulate through the water toward him, their giggles fully audible in a liquid environment, he suddenly realized he was no longer breathing, so to speak, as he had always taken for granted... His eyes widened into O's of amazement as he simultaneously felt the gills on the sides of his throat and saw the lovely, perfectly formed breasts of the next two mermaids to enter the chamber. Soon they were all around him, giggling and cooing, and Roger's face lit up with the goofiest, most contented grin it had worn in the twenty years since that one Christmas when he'd actually gotten what he wanted: A Huffy Sand-Devil, 5-Speed, banana seat, flame red... And now this: gills and girls, girls, girls! Mergirls at that, and he a merman...|