Chapter 7
| The Story | The Authors |
|---|---|
| "Oh My!" purred Vashondra,"You just simply shouldn't have!" as she quickly grabbed the proffered piece of cloth and promptly blew a marble size chunk of Gilligan's medula oglangata into it. Neenor feigned a slight cough to hide his disgust. "It's...ahem...woven by specially by the Slanz Bees of Triiguli from the spinal chords of fifteen million Skronos Worms." "Really! Well imagine THAT!" said Vash as she dug deeper into her left nostril for a particularly tenacious clump of frontal lobe. "Yes, imagine that." replied Neenor. He was beginning to wonder if all this had really been worth the trip. But the dull and steady ache of his y'akwakyjhak spurred him on. "So...um...are you busy right now?" "Well, I've got company, if that's what you mean, and the house is just a wreck. I'd invite you in but, well the company's a tad skittish and I'd hate to upset them." From where he stood Neenor could see numerous bloodshot eyes peering nervously from between the kitchen blinds. He wasn't about to give up now. Any spzzxynk in a time of need would serve him now. Perhaps one of them might do. "They just haven't met me" he pronounced as he started towards the house. "But, My little love muffin..." began Vashondra. But it was too late, Neenor was already half way to the house his multi-tendrilled skizzbult already swelling with hope and unfufilled need. | |
| Vashondra started to follow Neenor into the house but then thought better of it, she didn't really want to see what was about to happen. And anyway, she'd seen it before and it still gave her nightmares. She ran around to the back of the house to rescue Bitzy but Bitzy was already running out the back door. Together, they ran back to the front of the house in time to see the Bozoti Chieftain thrown out of the kitchen window and land on the lawn with a loud thud. He was covered in a sticky white slime and the two women could not determine if he was alive or dead. Then the screaming started. Bitzy and Vashondra stood frozen listening to the sounds of dishes and furniture samashing, the wails of ultimate human terror, and above that the horrible piercing shriek of Neenor's sexual climax. Then all was silent. The front door opened and out stepped Neenor, smoking a cigarette. Vashondra, with hands on her hips, glared at Neenor. "Who do you think is going to clean up this mess?!" she snapped at him. "You've got something hanging out of your nose." Neenor replied. | |
| He proferred another handkerchief, this one of the silvery, ultra-absorbent Gore-Tex™ preferred by deep space travellers and drooling ski-parka fetishists. | |
| With an embarrassed little giggle, Vashondra accepted the hanky. Her head dipped forward into its soft, silvery folds as she prepared to blow her nose. | |
| Neenor discreetly congratulated himself on how quickly he'd mastered yet another planet's social customs by giving his posterior gwen-chii-gaw a sharp tweak. The resulting bout of flatulence was so noxious as to make its way into the deepest confines of the saucer, causing instant loss of consciousness among the bridge crew and producing a loud mrnyaowg! of protest from the ship's cat Ignavia. | |
| Vashondra inhaled deeply through the space-Kleenex, in anticipation of ridding her nostrils and sinuses once and for all of this infernal blockage... | |
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...At the very same moment that Bitzy was roused from her stupor and remembered why Vashondra was full of Gilligan's Brain in the first place, and what she'd been before Bitzy had stuffed her nose with them... ...And then she remembered the deadly pie, ticking quietly away inside Vashondra's stomach, waiting for the signal to blow... "NOOOOOOOOO," she screamed... As Vashondra huffed, and puffed, and blew -- | |
| Gilligans brains out. The deadly pie actually turned out to be 3 bean bake, a hillbilly cuisine favorite of the West Virginians, which, incredibly, is who Bitzy had learned to stuff things in her nose from. |
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