Monday, July 23, 2012

Chapters Eighteen and Nineteen

Chapter Eighteen
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“Who the hell,” said Pamela, staring at her device, “Is Post Dramatic Test Syrup?”

“A-ha!” said Bleeekxpritzle “Cheerio!”


“Leggo my Eggo!” A tentacle whipped out and snatched the device away from her again. The Admiral checked her latest facebook comments.

  Corey Bigjohnson Givner 
  u scaning barcodes?? hahahahahahaha! 

  Pamela Baker 
  i h8 u all. im going to die bcuz u all suck. :(

  Fanita Whelming 
  ha ha h ah a! wtf! lolz

  Post Dramatic Test Syrup:
  DcV  fR4% # )( 3d55g67nu7 tGbHnY6  &uJm  ;P0_[cvz“
Kgf ED# $5  6kj  ^b^&ToOoB7t 2wp[poh  fd3  2 ][o)  {[likjyg  t%6j  $E#7  ,ostyo  Pf
36t367 2490-98763691 8908652b3908091 635781670 97231e8963 891 69083 6871 643zz560913

“Well then.” said the Admiral. “Buck up, little beavers! The cavalry’s a-comin’.”

* * *

Chapter Nineteen
All Around The Kitchen, Cock-a-Doodle-Doodle-Doo

All around the lower part of the Detex Chamber; beyond the enmoated pedestal, the uni-horned Tweeporan personnel were growing louder; more animated, and they were drifting toward the only visible entrance to the place; a pair of massive double doors, fitted with portviewers, chittle bars, multi-locks, bio-coms and optical recesses [A full explanation of these features can be found in appendix II of this book which will be included only if you purchased the full-price version. You can also verify that this is the full-price version of the book by observing the title of chapter eighteen. It should read To The Rescue. If it reads something completely asinine such as Flying Tickle Dumplings or All Around The Kitchen, Cock-a-Doodle-Doodle-Doo, then you are one cheap bastard and it’s no wonder the author is poor].

Sir Admiral Premier Gleeg Bleeekxpritzle, Fifth Colony of the Twin Dwingeloo Galaxies Federation and his five fellow prisoners; Bill Blake Senior, Mickey Mouse, Bunny McRascalrabbit, Philbert Dickerson and Pamela Baker, now became interested in the brewing commotion and found themselves standing upright on the great pedestal on which they were stranded, watching the big doors to see what was happening or about to happen.

Several of the aliens were armed with staves and one of them approached the great doors and held forth his or her staff. A section of one of the doors then became blurry, swirling into a spiral pattern. That precise circle then faded away like kettle vapour, leaving an opening through to the next chamber.

A great jumble of voices emanated from the space beyond the opening. To the earthlings they sounded like English though they could not assemble enough clearly-heard words to devise any meaningful content. Suddenly a bare foot appeared in the portal followed by a leg in black trousers and then the full body of Bruce Willis, chauffeur (of no relation to Bruce Willis, the Hollywood actor) was stepping through the hole, a giant super soaker squirt gun carried in both hands. He waved it around wildly.

“Back off!” he yelled as the Tweeporans began to close around him. Some jumped back. Some laughed uproariously and some edged closer, as if to egg him on. Behind him the sudden portal began to fill with the horsey faces of other Tweeporans; those of earlier acquaintance with Willis; also known as Cake man. And some of those faces were smeared with soft serve ice cream. There was altogether a great clamour of voices which might have been amplified through terror or hilarity or the full gamut between for all the pedestalled humans could interpret.

Mr. Willis wore a grim tight-lipped expression as he pushed through the crowd, waving his gun. It seemed some kind of schoolyard game or a running of the bulls with Tweeporans dancing out of his way but some daringly returning to his path. Several of the more persistently daring personnel were shot in the head with some white stream from the gun and none of those seemed to mind too much.

Willis glanced twice at the pedestal prisoners before calling out to them. “Come on! We’re getting out of here! Follow me!”

Bleeekxpritzle and Philbert looked at each other, then down at the moat of no return and then back at Mr. Willis. The Admiral shrugged his shoulders.

“You know this guy?” said Philbert.

“My chauffeur.”

“This is the cavalry?” murmured old Mr. Blake.

“Hardly,” said Bleeekxpritzle.

Finally Willis charged through the crowd screaming, “Ten…! Forty-six…! Twenty two…! Hut hut hut!” A path opened for him but barely wide enough as he raced toward the pedestal and then spying the chasm for the first time, skidded to a barefoot halt at rather the last second. “Yippers!” he screeched; staring wide-eyed into his deep near-doom. He then spun around to face his adversaries who were now ecstatic with wild chattering. Only Bleeekxpritzle knew this for certain to be a bout of riotous Tweeporan laughter.

“Come and get me, y’all long-faced bitches!” Willis cried. “We’ll all go down together!”

An unusually straight-faced soldier then separated himself from the crowd, stepping forward with a staff in hand. “Copacapocabingo!” he hissed.

“What do you want!” cried Willis.

“Copacapocabingo!” cried the Tweeporan with additional urgency.

“Speak English, turd muffin! I know you can!”


“Bingo this: B-fourteen, fucker!”

The soldier responded with a great sweep of his staff which, though without making contact, seemed to be the cause of Mr. Willis, super soaker and all, being launched through the air and over the channel to come crashing down onto the pedestal. He landed on his side with a tremendous “Oooff!” as his great plastic gun flew from his hand and slid across the pedestal’s surface to its rimless lip. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAaa

[Editor’s note: That last bit was written as the author dozed off to sleep in his chair. How he shifted case right before the end is a mystery we are still working on. The offending sleep-blurb, as well as this explanation, will be edited out of the full-price version only.]

While thirteen eyes watched the weapon sliding toward certain long-haul dropitude, it was only Bunny who sprung into action. With a giant hop she landed on one big rabbit foot, bringing the other big rabbit foot down on the gun, trapping it at the edge of the pedestal.

“Well done!” cried Philbert.

“That’s my lucky foot,” the rabbit offered, with a shrug.

Admiral Bleeekxpritzle loomed over his prone wincing chauffeur. “Oh Lucy,” said the Admiral grimly. “You got some splainin’ to do.”

“You look well and intact, Admiral. Thank goodness I arrived on time!”

“Don’t play the slippery eel with me, driver!” gurgled the admiral. Your absence at the very moment of the attack against me did not escape my notice. The implications are ever abundantly clear!”

“What!” said Willis; aghast.

“Book him, Danno!” said Bleeekxpritzle. Everyone looked about to see who he might be referring to, but nobody stepped forward to claim the title, Danno.

“I came to rescue you, you fat tub of green ungrateful goop.”

“Oh really? With this?” A hip tentacle fired out and returned with the super soaker wrapped tightly. “What is this; ice cream? Did you suppose you were rescuing me from a small child’s birthday party? Where were you when the shit hit the fan?”

“In the men’s room.”

“For so long? Did you have a digestion issue?”


“Plop plop fizz fizz?”

“Unbelievable. I risk my life for nothing. I even brought you strawberries.”

“You sold me out and then the Tweeps no doubt betrayed you. Now you run back to me for protection.”

“I’m going back to driving rich kids to school. If I get out of this mess of yours alive.”

“Wait! What did you say?”

“Lazy rich kids-”

“Did you say strawberries?”

Willis slowly climbed to his feet. “I figured you’d all be hungry. And I know how much you like strawberries.” He dug into his pockets and pulled out handfuls of them.

“Oh!” Bleeekxpritzle blurted. “Gads, but I’ve misjudged you!” He gently picked a strawberry from his open hand and ate the barest nibble of it. “Mmmmm,” he swooned. “But I do love these so. They’re just like chompberries back home but without the eyes and teeth. There’s no greater delicacy in the universe!”

“Did you say eyes and teeth?” said Pamela with a look of horror.

“Indeed,” said the admiral. “They’re very difficult to pick. You have to sneak up on them. Hence the prohibitive price tag.”

The others, all hungry, gathered around and ate strawberries. The admiral used the gun and squirted tiny ice cream toppings on each of them. At floor level the Tweeporans mostly went back to their nondescript and ambiguous work.

“Did you happen to bring any tea?” asked Bill Blake Senior.

“No. I’m sorry.”

“How did you lose your shoes?” asked Philbert.

“Oh, I always perform rescues barefoot given the opportunity,” said Bruce. “I need to feel the earth - or the floor; really feel it. You know? It’s a cosmic, Karmic, Zen kind of thing.”


“Will you ever forgive me, Mr. Willis?” said Bleeekxpritzle.

“Already done,” said Bruce. “But I have failed here. However will we escape now?”

“There is hope yet,” whispered the admiral. “Just hold tight.”

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