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Chapter 5

     The Story The Authors
"What?!? You're Saying That The Only Way For me To Get Out Of This Dogforsaken Ditch Is For Some Moron And A Naked Lady In An Izuzu To Come Careening Out Of Nowhere And Hit Me?!?" She Gasped Back. Jesse
That's right you snot-nosed baffoon. Now deal with it and go get those darn rigamaroles out of the garden before the camels come and spit into the well of fortune. You know how your father gets if he doesn't have his prune juice. Binky
Now Mary-Jo (wasn't there a Mary-Jo somewhere in the story) was all set on sitting down to a nice meal of split-pea soup and soda crackers when all of a sudden she hears this crackle. The same kind of crackle you hear when you try to burn too much cracker jacks in a tiny kettle mind you. She looked around in haste and discovered to her horror that her once well and talking mouse had consumed her favorite Michael Bolton cd. "Oh you horrid, horrid brute you! Can't you see that all I want is some peace and quiet and here you go and start chewing on a cd. And not just any had to be my favorite!" And with that she picked it up by it's tail and was about to throw it out the window when all of a sudden it's tail fell off. Lunch Lady
She took the mouse tail and hastily sewed it into her luscious blond wig, the wig she used to use in her male impersonation act during the michael bolton set. of course, now that he had cut his hair and begun to sing covers, this wig, indeed the entire artistic creation she used to call simply "the show," had become a pathetic, irrelevant, throwback to the early 90s. thumbelina
All Her Other Drag King Friends Had Always Asked Her Why She Did Michael Bolton. She Used To Tell Them She Liked Him Because His Bland Singing Style And Horrible Music Didn't Get The Patrons Too Rowdy. She Remembered The "New Kids On The Block Impersonator Strip-O-Rama" Fiasco All Too Well.. The Visions Of Her Best Friend "Blanche" In Her Donny Make Up (really a frankenstein mask, same diff) Getting Torn Apart By The Horde Of Lusting Eleven Year Old Girls And Forty Year Old Perverts. The Hideous Sounds As All The Fans Tried To "Bring Home A Piece Of Their Favorite Musician" Haunted Her To This Day.. Blanche Had Called Her Name.. Had Called For Help.. But She Hadn't Listened. Jesse
Meanwhile Kate and Xerxes drove on into the night. Kate was now warm at last. Xerxes was astounded as she contorted her firm translucent body to don the paint splattered sweat suit in the confines of the passenger seat of the Izuzu. This was perhaps the most exciting night of his life and all he could think of was being late for work at Toxic America! What was wrong with him? This was the first woman who'd ever riden in his Izuzu and all he could think about was is damned job. Jeeze! Kate stirred from her warm half-slumber at the sound of Xeres' expletive. She stretched slightly, puting her arm down between the seats and felt the cold of the blued steel. It was one of Xerxes handguns. The one he always kept in the Izuzu. Pod
Well, to be honest, not really a handgun. It was a little unweildy, but he liked the sound of the thing, both spraying fire and poetically; Uzi was after all almost Izuzu spelled backwards. ramone
"What do you use this thing for?" Kate asked sleepily, indicating the uzi at Xerxes' side. "This? Oh, well I have this crippling fear of insects, especially the big ones." Kate stared at Xerxes incredulously. "I know it's a bit of overkill but it makes me feel better just to have it." Xerxes knew his explanation sounded dubious but Kate had never seen the insects at Toxic America and he just didn't see the point in unduly frightening the girl. cuddles
But Kate wasn't frightened. Inwardly she reconised that this man and this man's arsenal had presented themselves to her as a gift from fate - the opportunity to pour revenge on the simpering sisterhood at Semper Ubi Sub Ubi. Soon it would be Semper Uzi Sub Izuzu. Kate carried on with this submissive hoax on the trusting Xerxes. She was going to need him and his truck and perhaps his body too! Pod (upside down)

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