The Unnamed adventures of Roger Weaver

The Unnamed adventures of Roger Weaver

Chapter 7

     The Story The Authors
...Or so thrashed about Jake's thoughts as he tried toleave his body behind and retreat to the safety of his back brain.(Turning from "Cockwork Orange" into "Brazil" in the matter of a few paragraphs)
The pain was becoming excrutiatingly exquisite. In a sense jake was becoming aware of heretofore squelched chunks of sexuality that had been with him all along. The pain was becoming liberating, freeing him from all previous conceptions of pleasure and comfort. The Tooth Bitch smiled low to herself. It had not been in vain.

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah" screamed Jake in his dream as Marilyn Chambers went behind the Green Door, never to return, and the Tooth Bitch tightened the straps on the codpiece;
"Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeh" shrieked Anita as a cackling Cardinal Richelieu turned the gastroenterometers on the Iron Sausage from 6 to 8;
The funny thing was, they were screaming in tune with one another. Or maybe it was not so funny after all. But there must have been something to it, because it was shortly thereafter that (a) the first in a series of glucose IV bottles hanging over Jake's hospital bed exploded; (b) the first in a series of deep cracks appeared in the wall of the cell containing Roger, Boar, the Cat in the Hat, and the two Things, and (c) an inordinate number of mermaid-sightings, in the East River, the Harlem River, and the lower Hudson, were phoned in to New York City newspapers.
Lemon Curry!? cuddles
"Yes, precisely!" hissed the Cardinal to Gurn, "Lemon Curry. Bring me at least a gallon of it. And make sure it's extra spicy." He turned back to the naked and bound Anita. "Now my pet, the fun really begins. Jake's coma dreams are truly reaching a fever pitch, and sometime in the next twelve hours the tiny membrane that holds his dream back from the rest of your Puritanical reality will begin to tear and there will be no turning back. Every ounce of pent up teenage hormones he's kept locked deep within the Iron Sausage that constitutes his tortured Libido will be unleashed like a hydrant. The very foundations of the Earth's crust will shake and crumble amidst the engulfing simultaneous orgasm of every creature living." And he let loose a maniacal laugh that echoed through the caverns. Lanark
Roger, Boar, and the Seuss Trio listened to the Cardinal's maniacal laugh reverberate throughout the cavern as they inspected the crack that had opened up in the wall of their cell. As the chilling sound faded, the group felt a collective sense of urgency. It was the Things that came up with an escape plan.

"The situation looks pretty black
But Things are good at crawling through cracks.
We'll crawl and crawl right through that wall
And when we're out of this old cell,
we'll open up the door as well."

"But what will you use to open the door, you have no key." fretted Roger.

"Have no misgiving,"
said the number one Thing
"I have a wocket in my pocket."

And with that the two things scurried into the crack in the wall.

It led to a passageway that ran behind the cellblock. With a quick glance left and right the Things slipped out and paused.
Left or right
Or right and left
which way to go
to complete our quest
To unlock the door
our friends to free
I hear a noise !
Flee! Flee! Flee!

heavy footsteps resounded down the corridor. The Things slipped back into the crack just in time to watch Gurn and one of his hentchmen stomp past bearing two overflowing buckets of some sort of yellow viscous substance.
Back in the interrogation chamber, Cardinal Richelieu sniffed the air with relish. "Aaaaaah, lemon curry! My absolute favorite! And soon it will be your favorite, too, my dear Anita, for you shall know nothing else in the world but the fiery, tangy delights of lemon curry! Clogging every orifice! Burning every pore! Stinging every square inch of your lovely pale epidermis with the ferocity of ten thousand jellyfish, twenty thousand nettles, a million pinches of the Morton Salt girl's salt on a trillion open wounds, quivering in agaony against the chill air emanating from my de-lovely new Iron Sausage..." The Cardinal hugged himself with delight, and continued to do so, even after Anita's spitefully hawked and spat loogie hit him square-on in his thin, vulturelike countenance... Philip

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