|The Story||The Authors|
|"Whah, I do declay-uh!" declared Boar. "Roguh Weavuh! We was wondrin'
what evuh became of yuh. Whay-uh've yuh been ol' horse?" |
"Well, it's long story but I'll be (mercifully) brief. I was shanghai'd to Death Valley where I was made to perform unspeakable sexual acts with a twenty mule team and a box of Borax, during which I lost my right hand." And Roger held up a gauze encased stump for all to see. "It was horrifying. Horrifying, I say! Then as my captor was taking me to New Jersey we were stopped by Gurn Blansten and his thugs and I was taken before Cardinal Richelieu where I was forced to denounce my faith in favor of catholicism and rat out all my friends." Roger buried his face in his hand and fell to sobbing piteously. "God, I wasn't expecting the Spanish Inquisition." he cried.
"The-uh, the-uh," Boar said comfortingly. "Nobody does." Roger composed himself and continued. "Anyway, after confessing, I was beaten mercilessly and thrown into this cell. I don't even know how long I've been here."
"Well, considerin' that we'uh all still hungovuh, it appea-uhs to have only been a day." But before they all realized that it would take at least 3 or 4 days to drive to Death Valley from New York, Roger noticed that Anita was missing from the group. "Where's Anita?" he asked frantically.
didn't want to tell you
Meanwhile, Jake, strapped immobile in a dentist's chair, endured the excruciating agony of an undeflatable erection within the spiked confines of the Iron Codpiece while the classics of erotic and pornographic film were shown on multiple screens before him. His eyelids were kept open ala Malcolm DcDowell's 'treatment' in A Clockwork Orange (said film being, in fact a key source of inspiration for the terrible dream with which the comatose, masochistic Jake was toruring himself)...
Back in the projectionist's booth, trusty Mr. Tickles chuckled to himself at Jake's agonies and took full advantage of the Tooth Bitch's momentary absence to kick back in his chair, hoist his feet up, and enjoy a stale Macanudo. Cigar smoke coiled through the beams from the projectors, shot through with light and illuminated dust-motes. On-screen, Debbie did Dallas, the Pom-Pom Girls got their revenge by spiking the school water supply with LSD, while the aforementioned Malcom McDowell, now the Roman Emperor Caligula, hosted incomprehensible orgies. Jake drooled and moaned, shaking his head back and forth like an idiot, repeating "No no no no no" like the useless mantra it was to him...
"Wait a minute," said Roger. "This story makes no sense. First Janice
is going to destroy the world, then the tooth bitch, and now the
spanish inquisition! What are we supposed to stop first?"
"Oh no," said the cat in the hat
"Your question has made it clear to me,
This is all one big conspiracy!
We've got to stop them all at once
Or else we'll fail worse than a dunce!
"Oh dear," said Roger. He understood but somehow he was more confused than ever!
|"I'm certainly confused," said Luntho who suddenly appeared standing sideways in a door that probably wasn't there a few short moments ago. Luntho existed between dimensions and when things got really confusing he would pop in and confuse things even more. "Well, Roger, get used to me I'm here for a while and I'm sticking with you through thick and thin until another dimension becomes more confusing than this one."|
...but Luntho was yet another of the ten thousand shadowy figures
who stalked Jake's endless wet dream in grimy raincoats, exposing
themselves to virtuous young ladies on the subway platforms of Jake's
deepest desires. Many of them resembled his father, but (as with
most of us) it would probably have taken a hypnotist to get that
sort of truth out of poor Jake. |
In a very different corner of the reality which was slowly but surely being taken over by Jake's dream, however, similar events were transpiring between Cardinal Richelieu and Roger's own true ex-girlfriend Anita, who as we find her is being subjected to a vigorous interrogation by the Cardinal, a trio of beady-eyed, tongueless Jesuits, and a gleaming new Mach XXV Iron Sausage.