|The Story||The Authors|
|Above, Tiki snapped herself out of it. The whole East Wing couldn't have more than ten minutes left before the concentrated gravity inside the vortex would weaken its structure sufficiently to gobble it down whole. She had to get out. And -- already about to disappear down the duct-way -- her conscience told that no matter how much she wanted to, she couldn't leave Bitsy or Doc Smack, unconscious on the floor below, to the ravenous mercies of the vortex. She'd never forgive herself if she did.|
The first thing was to remove her clothes and personal accoutrements. Her father had always warned her about vortexes: they are far more partial to inorganic than organic matter. When in doubt, feed them your socks.|
When she had stripped naked, she removed one of the ceiling panels at her feet, and gasped as it was immediately torn from her grasp and devoured by the pinwheeling lamprey maw of the vortex. Steeling herself, she lowered herself gingerly through the ceiling until she hung at her full length, then dropped the remaining 3 feet to the floor, to where the prone bodies of Smack (bleeding; the droplets of blood occasionally levitating from his thighs to hang in brief stasis in the air before flying the length of the room into the vortex, which spit them instantly back out, dissatisfied, dreaming of sweaty jockstraps and the like) and Bitsy lay in a helpless heap.
|She carefully approached Bitzy first. Tiki removed Bitzy's sling back pumps and tossed them into the vortex. Then she gripped Bitzy tightly around the ankles and dragged her towards the door which suddenly split in two and flew into the ever widening mouth of the vortex. Tiki looked over her shoulder and saw Janice standing there with her superpowerful metal fingers. "Janice, thank God!" she shouted over the din of rushing air. "Get Dr. Smack!" Tiki indicated the bleeding Doctor. lying prone on the floor. Janice nodded and moved toward the dastardly Doctor. She stood over him and looked at him distastefully, putting polished chrome tipped hand gently to her lumpy throat. She opened her mouth and a few beeps escaped. With one fluid motion, Janice scooped the strange man that lay at her feet and, to Tiki's horror, tossed him into vortex.|
|The doctor regained conciousness briefly as the swirling vortex swallowed him whole like a great voracious anaconda. "shit" he thought as the hole slowly turned him completely inside out,"this is extremely painful, goddam, Oh well, at least it will be easier to perform surgery on me should I need it." His final agonized screams were muffled as his esophagus was turned into his chest.|
|Meanwhile, in an adjoining office, Horace B. Spinknozzle was about to enjoy his usual midafternoon cup of tea and corn muffin when he noticed the commotion next door. "I wish Dr Smack would use his home instead of his office to shag in."he mumbled to himself. Poor Horace, his life had no peace. Horace, Bon Vivant, raconteur, an ace at whist and pinochle, and a theoretical physicist of no ill repute was constantly being bombarded with the weight of the world when all he wanted was a nice hot cup of tea between 170F and 150F and a corn muffin at 2:37pm every day and a half hour hot oil massage every other Thursday at 4:15pm. It was at this point that the material vortex in the next room began to work it's juju on the wall nearest Horaces doilyed plate of still warm muffins. His tea had finally reached the exact temperature of 171F and it was 2:36pm. Horace swore under his breath. It was always like this. No peace, he could find no respite in this world for every time the tea was reaching the perfect temperature something would happen, a somebodies appendix would burst and he'd be obliged to operate with a pen knife, sugar tongs and a 7-11 spork, someone would cancel out of a bridge game and could Horace fill in, or most insidious of all he would just be sitting down to a nice cup of tea and a material vortex would open in the next room. Isn't that just the way? Horace sighed the sigh of the resigned and slowly got up to see what he could do about the vortex. Maybe if he hurried the tea would still be at least drinkable. The muffins he already knew were a lost cause.|