Chapter 4
| The Story | The Authors |
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| "I just peed in my pants," she gurgled. Then, in one continuous breath, she asked "WhatamIgonnado?" | |
| "It all depends," hissed a voice from the shadows. | |
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Meanwhile, Demetrius paced the floor. He paced and he paced and he paced. It wasn't fair; no -- fair wasn't the issue -- it wasn't -- it wasn't -- it wasn't natural. He felt queasy. A vodka-and-Xanax hangover plus four cups of greasy hospital coffee in his stomach were slowly churning themselves into the sort of maelstrom from which lone sailors emerge with their hair and beards rime-striped and suddenly ghostly white, hammerhead sharks devoured swimmers in his swollen, soupy meningal waters, and the entire Annheuser Busch clydestale team, new shod in cast iron, were grinding broken glass into the floor of his frontal lobe. But all of the above -- mere physical discomfort and no more -- paled in the face of what he'd seen the night before, when in a momentary, lust-induced loss of Reason he'd allowed himself to be caught in the silken pink web of the Bootleg woman. Bitsy. He shuddered. Teeth. Sharpened. Which God had meant for mouths, for chewing cooked foods, not for...for that. He touched the multiple sets of tiny, twin puncture wounds on his neck, on his stomach, on his...It was too much to bear. His hands shook. He dialed Room Service and ordered an iced liter bottle of vodka, a brace of ten-thousand-year-old quail eggs from the Korean buffet, and another three dozen Xanax. A few drinks; a few Xanax; a few eggs; maybe then he could think straight. He didn't believe himself for a minute but at least it kept him occupied -- anything was better than dwelling on the horror of -- but his thought s were cut short as the door opened and Miss Bitsy Bootleg herself entered, slipping out of an alligator-skin jumpsuit in one fluid motion, dipping a forefinger in her mouth and running it down her breast, hesitating momentarily on the nipple to trace tiny careful circles, continuing down over the slight protuberance of her belly and still lower -- to the sudden sounds of salivating, chomping teeth -- as she crossed the room to the bed where a speechless Demetrius lay as prone and paralyzed as a deer transfixed in a pair of oncoming headlights. "You down with me, lover?" she purred. | |
| "You cut that out, you sound like a pair of wombats in heat!" excoriated Janice. "Look at me here, I am a wounded soul and all you can think about is didlin’ each other right here in my semi private suite. You need to stifle your hormones and get on with the plot!" And with that, Janice attempted to get out of the bed. She moved her right, titanium hand onto the bed rail that was still intact. Still unfamiliar with her new strength, she steadied herself and then without knowing she sliced through the other bed rail. The bed collapsed in the middle trapping Janice like bratwurst in a bun! "Get me out of here!" Janice’s muffled screams could barely be heard through the bedding and mattress. Bitsy and Demetrius had now rolled onto the hospital linoleum with a resounding thump. Bitsy was rapacious in her lust as she forced Demetrius into the most amazing positions. There was no let up. If only Janice could see them she’d be very impressed. | |
Poor Dr. Smack, meanwhile, seated across a conference room table from the Gainsbridge Renford Cannon-Fodder XIV, Executive Procurator of Hospital Conundrum Policy, and his assistant, geriatric, halitotic, terminally flatulent Edna Myers, was straddling the proverbial barbed wire fence.
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| Dr. Smack was in trouble and would have to face the hospital review board. The only thing he could do to keep from losing his mind was to send cryptic messages in morse code. But was it already too late? Back in Janice's hospital room, Tiki Dinette, who had been a silent bistander until now, helped Janice wrench herself free from her broken bed. Demetrius was hanging upside down by his belt loop from a coat hook on the wall, begging Bitzy for mercy. "Bitzy!" Tike snapped her friend. "Leave him alone! Did you hear Janice's voice before? She sounds like a telegraph machine!" Bitzy dropped Demetrius to the floor. "That noise came out of Janice?" Bitzy said incredulously. "Yes, say something again Janice." Tiki said. "What the hell are you people talking about?" is what Janice thought she said, but all that came out was some long and short beeps. The others stared at her, mortified. Janice slowly raised her hands to her throat, slowly so as not to cut off her head, and felt an odd lump at her larynx. "Ohmygod!" she beeped. |
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