A mind trip unlike any other. The wild adventures of a humble, easy-going couple in a small, nondescript American town, including those of a diverse, ever-changing, weird cast of friends and acquaintances, young and old. This amiably outlandish, often irreverent, R-rated tale is closing in on 1,000 episodes, each enjoyable on a stand-alone basis. Begun on Sept. 26, 2010, it is now, according to some sources the longest true novel ever written and published in English, closing in on 1.5 million words, 5,000 pages and 1,000 episodes .... Just in its three years of existence, at this site and the Skunkville thread at CNN/SI, where it has recently been partially banned, the Saga has received more than150,000 reader/visitors. Kirkus Reviews said of Skunkville Saga, 'A relentless, bizarre phantasmagoria', 'Few reading experiences match this one', 'Totally unpredictable', 'otherworldly', 'madcap', 'flippant', 'continue(s), endlessly, down a rabbit hole of absurdity....' 'will appeal to.... most adventurous readers'.These are hard times for books...and due to that, plus its unbelievable energy and endless charm, Skunkville Saga is defining a BRAND NEW kind of intellectual/entertainment medium for the 21st century. Books most similar according to Kirkus critics:
Walt is slouched, relaxing on his sagging, even though it's fairly new, couch, that Walt bought at Handsome Bob Hansom's Handsome Bob Hansom Handsome Reposessed and Overstocked Furniture, located on the remains of 'lucky?' Ohio Route 777...Take Desolation Highway (Rt. 777) and your anti-diarrhea medicine (you're going to need it, so batten down your hatches as best you can -- a mind- and bowel-boggling assortment of great products at prices too low to be real awaits you!!) to prepare you for the shock and the ecstacy of Giant, Mind-blowingly Handsome Bob Hansom's Handsome Bob Hansom Handsome Reposessed and Overstocked Furniture Prices and Financial Arrangements, 'Bring your credit card, your trade-in furniture, and a hat to hold onto for when you see our unstoppable, impossible deals!' 'Can't pay for it in THIS lifetime or even the next?? No fxxkin' problemo!! Your children or children's children can work off the responsibility out at our Handsome Bob Hansom Salt Mines and National Defense May Day May Day Last Ditch Resort Weapons Labs and Factories, Inc., in our booming, lovely N.Alaska facility (but pack plenty of sweaters and warm sox and mind-altering drugs)!!!
Walt is enjoying a cup of piping hot, nutritious Ovaltine, while Edna is staying on her couch a few feet away, blowing on her delicious, steamy delicious mug of the Ozzie & Harriet Nelson family's favorite:
Edna: 'Hey, you! I not only prepared but brought you your rich, chocolatey O-Tine...So right now -- please align that TV set so it is equally well viewed from each of our separate perches.'
Walt, grumbling, staggers to his feet, and then turns the set so that neither of the ancient lovebirds can see the set a t'all...
Walt, a little dizzy from hopping off his couch so abruptly, lurches backwards towards his own couch, spilling some Ovaltine on his new woolen shirt from CrxpMart, while cursing... 'Now this dxmned shirt will be even itchier than it already is... Couldn't you have washed all the itchy stuff out before you gave it to me to wear? You used to do that back when we were newlywads!? Wasn't it olive oil or tallow oil, plus maybe some corn oil that you used...heating the new garment up a bit in the oven as you did it...but not enough so we had a wildcat oil fire on our hands??'
Edna: 'Like I told you ten times yesterday, you should have waited until I washed the shirt a few times and then treated it with fabric softener and then let it soak for 30 minutes in one of them new fabulous chemical synchronizers.... It takes about an easy, relaxing hour nowadays to have a really comfy garment -- compared to maybe a week of progressive, staged, awkward, messy, dangerous, iffy treatments in the past....That might or might not work...
'But however you're sufferin', it's your fault and your fault alone, Mr. Walter... You've always been so impatient to wear new clothes...or anything new! Even like a new box of tissues, or a new tube of Recto-Ease....whether you have worms or hemmies or what....
'Rather than do anything easy and constructive, Walt, you'd rather be near jumping out of your skin so you have something new to complain about and ruin our day! You know, people -- even old crows like us -- were so much more patient in the olden days!! Instead of expecting miraculous things to be done with no personal effort in the next ten minutes by our dearly bought products and services, we poor young daughters and housewives would anxiously, excitedly, but patiently wait forever for 'results', and be happy and excited about doing it... Thinking about how nice our family and the world and President Hoover wasl!'
Walt: 'Well, times change... I mean, what about yesterday?'
Edna: 'You mean those nightmares you had about the earth being turned from one common globe into maybe twenty smaller orbs, so that there'd be a better chance of people getting along... by separating the oil from the water, and the...'
Walt shakes his head: 'Nope. Oil and water separate by themselves, automatickerly.... You're thinking of the concept of 'separating the wheat from the chaff'... I mean, who wants the chaff... And don't forget, Edna, lots of people are allergic to wheat.'
Edna, puzzled: 'So, if the wheat is going to make everyone itch and swell and get the piles, why are the good old days better. No wonder you always had that ugly rash around your privates.... that ran all the way up your back to your scalp....like a skunk's stripe... And the analogy is fitting...Just as you ramble on...I think how fitting it is!'
Walt, losing his and Edna's trains of thought as his attention focuses back to the TV, which seems to only be showing ads today! 'So bring yer off-road, dangerous-terrain vehicle right now bouncing and jouncing right up scenic, challenging Officially Closed Ohio Super-Route 777 to the peak of Horntoad Mountain, overlooking the beautiful Hogshead River in the nearby, permanently quarantined section of NW Southeastern Ohio.... What a thrill it will be if you can make it to our store, somethin' to brag to yer friends about it, who of course will be calling you an idiot because they don't have the cxhxnes or the stiff upper bxsxmaz to indulge in such a bargain-hunter's ultimate adventure!'
Walt: 'I came outside as soon as I felt that lurch and the inside of the house became all cockeyed, like you get sometimes!'
Edna, hanging on to the underside of a rock-facing, far below Walt, her arms shaking from the exertion: 'Walt.. I don't know how long I can last... Every minute it seems there's a further shift, and my arms aren't used to having my whole chubby body to keep safely hanging in the air, rather than going SPLAT!!! somewhere in the mist thiousands of feet below!'
Walt, throwing caution and fear of death to the wind, 'Ready or not, here I come Edna.... I'll be down with you in three shakes of a sailor's ponytail....'
Edna: 'Isn't better if at least one of us lives to take care of my Aunt Beatrice and my Great Aunt Jemima.... You know how you love her pancakes and black Irish wit!'
Walt: 'I never realized we were partly from Africa before! But now that I think of it, I do believe that back, hanging high up on my family tree, is my great grandfather, Tar-Sand, whom I believe MARRIED your lovely, wholesome, Aunt Jemima!'
Edna, her voice echoing up from far below, almost losing her grip on her cell phone: 'Oh no!! That means our children may be inbred!! We better alert them...I'll have to dial my cellphone with my nose I guess....I wonder if we have cell coverage underneath these huge rock ledges?'
Walt: 'But Edna! Aside from waifs whom we've taken in with no expectation of being paid back, other than having to do most of the unpleasant house tasks that we don't like, and also earn money for us as energetic, youthful carriers of the world-(in?)famous newspaper, The Official Daily Paper of Record for the most NW sector of SE Ohio, The Skunkville Daily & Weekend Corn Holler, Corn Hxler, and Corn Hxmper, we don't have anything remotely resembling children!'
Edna, her voice echoing up from far below, her final words as she loses her grip on her beloved but now soon to be besmashed cell phone: 'Well, I would say that any waifs that lived with us for more than ten years, and whom we sent to a four-year college on our own savings or our tiny revenue from The Skunkville Saga, namely 'tips' given out for our autographs, when we dress ourselves up to look like the actual Walt and Edna..'
Walt: 'What did you say at the end..? For some crazy reason, it sounded like you were moving far away from me at a rapid pace, maybe close to Terminal Velocity, right as you finished your last words....'
A much less silly, somewhat less profane Edna is staring out the living room window, noting: 'I hope our three loyal readers and the two people who come several times a year (Gee... that just wouldn't be enough for me... Why even bother?)... HAVE NOTED ALL THE ADDITIONAL BAXX-BREAKING WORK ON THE PRIOR EPISODA!!
Edna continues: 'But Walt, I never realized until now that we live on the side of a mountain, and that there's no way that we can drive out the driverway down to Maple Street, because it's much steeper than the Streets of San Francisco! I can't even see the tops of the nice big houses across the street!'
Walt: 'Hey, Edna... I remember that show, the Huston Streets of San Francisco. I wonder if we could find it now given our Ultimate Cable Plan that I just signed up for, figuring that we don't have much longer, which gives us a literally infinite array of chanels... A number so long that you would not be able to fill a roll of unltra-thin 5,000 sheet/roll 'Great Scxtt: Look at My Hand!!' Toilet Paper (sold with disposable rubber gloves for sanity) using every available space on both sides of the roll... But they recommend checking it out with a 'lightly used' roll, given the paper shortage we now have... and the oxygen...pant...pant... shortage...'
Edna: 'Maybe air shortage because now we are on the side of a mountain!'
Edna jumps on Walt, ready to give him the Tonguelick procedure...
Walt: 'Pant, pant: No....but shouldn't there be more oxygen....pant-pant....Oh, dear, look at -- I mean listen to my pants... (Edna immediately bangs her head down on his crutch)....There should be more oxygen rather than less, even with the altitude factor because how we're now even more surrounded by water...'
Edna: Banging her head down on his crutch again in frustration, kind of like a baby...No one had the right to change our earth like this! They've ruined it...Now its maybe 50 or 100 stupid little planets -- which separate us all from each other -- maybe good for security -- but what about the brotherhood and sisterhood of all of mankind. Who said we wanted to be isolationists? Did Obama know that this was in the werks??'
Walt: 'No, I just saw his lead scientists say on the TV that they did it as a big surprise for all of earth... That the big benefit is that we no longer have to be on the same globe as other superpowers like Russia and China... That there will be more harmony on each of the homogeneous sub-planets.'
Edna, jumping and turning white: 'Walt!! Did you feel that?? Our house just moved!'
Walt nods, rubbing his chin: 'I think we are on such a hill now because of the exaggeration of all the surface features -- like hills and valleys -- due to the shrinkage of Earth.... Hey...did you feel that, Edner? I believe we -- that is our house -- have started sliding down this new steep hill we find ourselves living upon... We may build up enough momentum that we'll end up in Skunkville Harbor, underwater!! I wish I had learned to swim while I was ship's captain... But no, I wasted all my time playing pinocle, using fish hooks instead of chips, with my crew!'
W 'Well, Edna, the news (regarding how all countries BUT the USA have been removed from Earth, and the still-Sun-orbiting orb reduced in overall size accordingly) would be a lot more exciting if we were close to a coast, but buried here in the Midwest, this remoival of all the other cuntinents and cuntries but the USA, albeit on nicely climate-cuntrolled spin-off mini-planets of their own, that will forevermore orbit around each other and the Sun, with 'our' planet (presuming you, like Edna and I, live in one of the cuntiguous United States) now known as Planet USA circling around with the others that also specialize in a particular theme, like 'Planet China' or 'Planet Russia' or 'Planet Scandanavia' or 'Planet Argentina', or the tiny 'Planet Luxembourg' or 'Planet Peter Falkland Islands', each just another Earth spin-off , through the vastness of Outer Space, where they will, to put it poetically, 'twill have no effect whatsoever on their secure occupants, or gravitic 'hangers-on' like us (what: you didn't know??), Walt & Edna, of the grand US of A (presumably excluding non-cuntiguous Hawaii and Alaska but this just hoppened, so we're not 100% sure of that-em) sub-planet, exist uinimpeded and unencucumbered Until the Unknown Day of Chaos and/or Destruction and/or Mild Shift (e.g., purely cuincidental 'accident' with a huge, medium, small, or mini-midget meteor) in the endlessly reconfiguring, shifting, but as a rule Safe as Houses chaos of the Universe...
W 'All of this really has no clear impact on we Browns now that I begin to think more clearly about it.... I mean, we rarely if ever leave Ohio anyway, daringly venturing just out of the 'tight' 20-square mile Skunkville Cunty -- or even, for that matter, the maybe three mile square limit of Scunkville town itself....Which nonetheless has one of the deadliest track records in the world in terms of people dying 'before their time' thanks to the dangers of the nuclear and other far more dangerous labs of Devil Doll's High Time Enterprises... Plus the immense amount of political carrotption and thus environmental carrotption in our town plus the local tradition of sharing boogies with each other, consuming them -- perhaps impolitely gagging or 'tossin' a small cunkie' -- a bit sometimes - as you speak, (an old Scuntville tradition aimed at population cuntrol) when meeting a friend on the street... And also that nauseating tradition of joining your pet when he's slurping on his privates, as a sign that what's good enough for Fido is good enough for the human...and vice versa, having your pet share with your toilet paper the 'job' of cleaning up after a deafening defacation or other emergence or eruption which requires private cleaning.....
Walt gags and gags, then finally fills up a nearby basin as he writes, a look of horror and self-hatred in his face.... Then continues as best he can....While the editor begins gaggingly spooning down Walt's 'brothe de brothering'
Walt : 'But I guess if we wanted to go down south now to avoid this proven and re-proven mathematical (e.g., phoney) risk, which we don't, the fastest way would be to go north and go across Lake Erie, and then we'd probably find ourselves in Florida, down near the Keys. since the USA is only the contiguous U.S., which may exclude the Florida Keys anyway!'
E 'Yes, Walt, it will make it a LOT faster to go to the Deep South than ever before.... Just by goin' a little bit mo' Nothun!! Go get us sum grits... Yo need to wash yo mouth out with sum extra spiczey grets fer all yer bad, sexist language!!'
W 'But if we wanted to go north of the USA, we're plumb out of luck, because Canada is gone, although I'm sure it can be found on one of the other fragments of Earth, which may be billions of miles away from us already, the Earth apparently being split up strictly on political and geographic lines, like in a real-earth game of Risk: the only question being whether British and French Canada are on the same mini-planetoid, or planetrrhoid as each other....However, perhaps we can still somehow reach Alaska, since it's one of our states and maybe somehow still jerry-rigged onto pur planetrrhoid....But then again, maybe such isolated possessions are each on their own world, freezin' their cahunes off, with no hope of a winter week in Miami or even Arguntina....Or maybe they just attached Alaska to the top of Washington State, and maybe smooshed Hawaii on the side of Southern California, blocking beach access for many of the Southern Cal towns, who now will need to cross lovely Hawaii to reach the beach.
It really is all pretty simple and clear, wouldn't you say everybody?? I mean, probably far clearer than Nerdley's EOBHR Tourney, and far more pristine than whatever bewildering yet stiflingly boring thing that crackpot Abby Zynzer is doing now...'
E 'Yes, it's just as the great geniuses always preprickded....As you might say in yer new lingko, Earth is becoming a smaller. more comfier, safer, hermetically isolated, temperature-cuntrolled set of sub-worlds, to cuin a new phrase, isn't it, Walt! No more renegade nations with crazy, bung-eyed rulers and loads of nuclear and chumical and cunventional weapons all aimed at Ohio or wherever you our dear reader lives under this new setup!! They're in another Universe Far, Far Away...with no way to get from Point A on Universe 1 to Point B on Universe 43V6K7FSF33...Check, Mate, Game! We can only bust the locals any more, no matter how angry and evil and bellicose or vericose or verigross we are!!!''
W 'Yes, but I still don't know if I like it.....not that there seems that we can do anything at all about it....I always wanted to play a round of mini-golf with you and that fellow who claims he's our son (Wally Jr.?) at the famed Golden Galleon Miniature Golf Coast in Ocean City NJ and then jet to Pebble Beach, California, to play at their famed Wet Oasis of Dreams course... Then, if one of us won both matches, that person would be named Perennial Champion Until the End of Time, but if one of us won in Golden Galleon but another in Wet Oasis of Dreams, we would have to keep travelling back and forth and back and forth and back and forth and back and forth... until one of us first won on the GG in Joisy and then wrapped up the Ultimate Championship with a win with their WOOD, a hard course, a hard one, that WOOD is....A dream that I'll just have to flush down my mental hopper for now, I guess...'
Edna, putting her arm around her peaked looking man: 'Yes, I thought you looked flushed from all this change... It's a lot for anyone to absorbine junior, wouldn't you agree, Skunkville Saga Readers, if there are still any left in these 'end days', as the newspapers have cuined them??'
W 'Yes, I believe all the apparent hits we get on Skunkville Saga readership are coming from random spambot machines....No one at all has ever read a word that we have recently been slaving away on, trying to perfect, writing day and night, with you as Chief Editor and Fiddles as Proofreader for years now...
E 'That seems plausible to me... but who cares? A rose is a prose is a gross is a hose...job. it needeth not be viewed or smelt or nibbled at or squeezed or rubbed against to become authentically real!! But I wonder if this systematic fragmenting of earth is happening because benevolent Super-Aliens wanted the U.S. to stop messing around in the affairs of other cuntries and, eventually, planets...like hitting on Mars or Venis? This sub-divide-and-cunker-methid does seem to rule out any intercuntry wars, by definition, unless we decide to do something like the Civil War again, splitting our own cuntry so that people can express, as the great DEVO said, their Freedom of Choicet....I'll say again in the land of the free, use your Freedom of Choice, your FREEDOM OF CHOICE!!'
E 'They say if you drive over by New York City, to that part of 'our' coast, on a clear day you may be able to faintly see sights like the Golden Gate Bridge just maybe 10-20 miles away, across the narrow waterway that separates Eastern U.S. and Western U.S.....and the people walking across the GGB for exercise can see the Emperor's State Building...Just think... to be truly be able to doggy style paddle (with a life perseverer on, of course), or take a row boat, from NYC to San Fran... Even stop at San Quentin on the way! In less than an hour maybe! This will open up some terrific travel opportunities for Skuntvillians!'
W 'Yes, and the more we talk about it, the more claustrophobic I'm feeling.... What happened to all the other countries, that gave us the excitement of admiring them, fearing them, wanting to cunquer them and steal their women, or fearing they would cunquer us and steal our women, leaving some unwanted, dirty, nasty, horny, old sub-humanoid hags for us to intermarry with and thereby dilute our pure American race, turning us into half-animal half-aliens with pea-sized heads and tentacles instead of arms and legs??? And will there still be stars at night, or have they been blotted out too for some reason... say to eliminate our imagination and our ambition???'
E 'Oh, loosen up, lighten up Pal Gruesome... Change is part of life.... Like even when you buy the paper... You usually get some change because you give the guy a buck rather than exact change.... Throughout our history, haven't we Americans always dreamed of Isolationism, where we can be pure Americans without any interference by or worry about any other society??'
W 'Pure Americans?? But I thought we were the melting pot, disappearing as it melts on the stove? Loosen up? Lighten up?? Sure, I'm ready for the two of us to retire to our boudoir and get as loose as all get out!!'
E 'Yes, then think about the unforgettable, precious, social contributions provided by foreign countries... like Gina Oolalabridgida and Sophia Allurin' and Bigtitte Bardot for you and Yves Mantanned and Stout Alec Guinness and Marcello Masterbateeni for me??'
W 'Yes, indeedy.... I can't speak for the guys you mentioned.... but those women you cited....They set a whole new standard on what style and beauty and exoticism and eroticism and pure hotticism was... Gee.... I wonder why I feel like whacking my carrot now (hold it, I should honestly say I'm actually doing it in bold daylight in front of a close acquaintance: you) after decades of abstinence from sex with any non-Edna comfortably under my belt, plus plenty of great delicious home-cooked with all the trimmins' action??'
E Edna cuddles closer to Walt with all this randy talk flying through the air: 'Who needs anything but you and me: NOW!!! And really... who cares about whether there's places we cun't ever go to any more since they're outside of the USA... Just think about all the places we haven't fully, cumpletely explored within each others' bodies and hearts!!!'
Walt, enjoying a delicious cup of steaming hot, chocolatey, ravishing Ovaltine as he relaxes on his couch: the smaller, shabbier, more saggy one: 'Well Edna, as much as I was looking forward to some red hot horny action with you after I accidentally slipped you that afrodeesiac, I am even gladder that you have now -- by force of your wholesome, strong, no-nonsense, unstoppable will -- returned to your senses, even though I had to run away from you in the backwoods for it seemed like hours.... Although, as soon as I reached the woods, I jumped in the backseat of our old 1941 Hudson Bureaucrat and took a long snooze... You know, dear, the rusted auto that I've been meaning to -- and promising I would -- 'properly dispose of' for many decades now.'
Edna, frowning...and so angry she is not joining Walt by having a hearty, sentimental cup of Ovaltine herself: 'Yes, I can always count on you to play unfairly in situations like that... Because of your tremendous fear of me, and fear of just about anyone who might possibly be mad at you!... And also due to your lifetime tendency to cut corners, so that this time things go easier, but next time they'll be twice as hard, once people fully realize that you're a sneak and a piker and therefore start to watch your every move, ready to intervene!'
Walt returns to the positive side of the tale, from his standpoint: 'Yes, Edna, it reminded me of the way you and I would find an unlocked car or horse carriage or goat-drawn wagon back in our younger days... A place where we could cuddle and giggle and fondle and squeeze and laugh and philosophize together.
Edna: 'Hah! You're such a blowhard and a trickster with what you say....'
Walt, feelings hurt, turns away for a second, lest a tear form in his eye while Edna is watching him like a hawk, like a human lie detector of near perfect accuracy.....Then he continues, somewhat more timorously: '...Or sometimes, our hideaway would be in one of the caves down by the Forbidden Forest... Until we started finding skeletons and then even fresh corpses in the caverns...sometime so fresh they tried to impart their ominous last words to us!'
Edna: 'Yes, like the skeleton of a mouse or the corpse of a caterpillar!....But, don't feel bad, dear, it is the nature of the Insecure Gender, the Male, I obviously mean, to make up tales that make him sound far more daring and resourceful than he really is!'
Walt, abruptly moving the subject onto hopefully higher ground: 'Edna, did you see where the migrating cacti are all returning back to south and west from whence they came, the government in its concern even providing freight trains, and cargo buses, and 16-wheelers to aid them in a safe and healthy return?'
Edna: 'Yes, I wondered what ever happened to that Please B. Peas' oration in the Skunkville Armpitheatre.'
Walt: 'Yes...and you know that's such a well-named place... I mean all of the huge summertime get-togethers there with perspiration poring out everyone's every pore....And all the rank stomach gas caused by the cheap hotdogs and the spicy hamburglers -- and of course Skunkville's favorite, Candied Garlic Balls ...It all has to be expelled -- it cannot safely be held in! That dank sweaty, farty, ballsy smell will still be hanging on at that Armpitheatre long after mankind has passed onto a new home, or into their Final Home.'
Edna, shaking her head: 'Why must you always dwell on the eventual downside of everything?'
Walt: 'But I'm not!! I've been holding back some absolutely revolutionary news from you... Something that may blow your mind clear into outer space.....'
Edna: '10% off their already barely believable low prices on all items from 6 AM to 7 AM -- only tomorrow -- at CrxmpMart?'
Walt: 'I'm going to flip over all the cards now, since no one could possibly guess this news, no matter how smart they are!'
Edna: 'Shoot then, cowboy! Lasso me in with amazement!!'
Walt: 'Well, this may seem a bit unprecedented and frightening, but people on the East Coast this morning awakened, and found that a land could be seen in the distance... a land unlike the East Coast...and it appeared to go in either direction, as far as the eye could see (or soon, as far as the plane could fly)... And it was the West Coast of our grand USA!!!!
Walt continues: 'While on our West Coast, the hip, cool, chill people out there are casually reporting the same thing as if it were just what they expected..... And from our 'North 'Coast'.... Well, really, it's mainly just a borderline over hill and dale and mountain and valley... and water too.... We can, with proper magnification, see the lands of our country's mostly low-lying southern coastal areas.... In other words, the rest of the world except for the U.S. and the ocean which surrounds it -- on a much-shrunken globe -- are all that exists on this planetoid any more!!'
Edna, non-plussed to say the least: 'It's the st-stuff of wh-which the Is-isol-isol-ationists have always d-dr-dre-drem-dremp-drempt.... come true!! How utterly creepy!!!
'And what will happen when the next foot falls??'
Yes, ladies and gentlmen, boys and girls, cacti and cactuses... Tonight Please B. Peas will be speaking at the Skunkville Colliseum, modelled closely on the original Roman Colliseum....
Perhaps one or two of you regular readers will recall that in the last inconsequential episode, Edna was having amorous thoughts about her husband Walt, who was not 'in the mood', due to all the strife in their hometown of Skunkville, what with the slow-moving cacti who nonetheless bravely, perhaps foolishly uprooted themselves from their sweltering homeland and migrated all the way, 'barefoot' to Northwestern Southeastern Ohio....From New Mexico and Mexico and Arizona and Texas.... Due to the global warming, including a panic-inducing rash of spontaneous cacti combustion incidents that left remaining cacti wondering when they would 'flame on!', i.e., 'tune in, tune on, burn up' without warning...
Calvin Cactus: 'I don't done ever remember it being so dang swelterin' hot out here, do you, Carmine?'
Carmine: 'No, I cain't says I do...Thas why sum of the hotter guys...and the hotter gals...have decided to pull up their roots and head north...'
Calvin: 'North?? You crazy, girl?? We freezes up there!!'
Carmine: 'Calvin!! You knows what Clebber Cactus says...'
Calvin: 'Loan him a pint and he'll tell youse whats to do?'
Carmine: 'No, stoopid...He says go north whilest thars still some time...'
Calvin: 'But how in heck do you just jerk off yerselfet from de belovered sandy groun whers I alwas bees...I knows we kin moves if we try, but I never done try nun of dat shxt. And how kins we move with ownly one 'legget'. If we falls, there we dun die, baked to death and eaten by de scabbengers...A cactur only as strung as it leg...'
Carmine: 'Clebber says cacti made in da imatch of the cacti spirit... Weze made fer walkin...bilt fwer walkins....jess fergut hower....Two or more of our roots will dun turns intah legs like octipus if we kin rep ourselfs out de sandy grounnn!! 'N our roots aren't deep 'cuz thyar nuttin' down there belows except hard dry... So theys eeezy to rip outa de groun if yees knows howet!!'
Led by a cousin, the young but strong and willful cactus, Please B. Peas, a cousin of the beloved, now long-deceased cactus activist Martin Duluther Cactus, who originally hailed from Duluth Minnesota, but moved south decades ago to assist his 'cacti friends' as soon as he heard about their heat-lashed woes, they who were not so fortunate as to be born in the milder weather of Duluth...Which nonetheless is becoming hotter all the time...
Edna is excited about the prospect of the handsome young cousin cactus, as like many she is thrilled to meet the great and the famous, or their relatives, or even their acquantances, or even the rumored or claimed indirect acquaintances of other, direct acquaintances...for almost any species of man, mammal, or wandering mobile vegetation.
She is so excited that she became erotically aroused when she imagined that she might be able to purchase an actual spine -- one personally selected and plucked for her from his extensive personal living inventory by Please B. Peas, something which she imagines Please B. Peas might be willing to sell on a fundraising basis, to help his beloved 'people'. Edna has rushed to their bedroom to check the balances on their saving and checking accounts at the highly regarded, ever since the stage coach daysm when their money and gold shipments only made it from Point A to Point B mebbe half the time...But the Wells Farthole company was so much better than the crooked competition, that they;re still around, having their stage coaches or armored cars/tanks knocked off and the gold box taken, hundreds of years laters., Anyway, sorry for the diarrheagression, but Edna is checking right now to see how much she'll have available, assuming no major robberies, to buy such a souvenir as a potent platonic prickery Please B. Peas cactus spine... While Walt tries to intervene, asking questions like:
1. Walt Q: Who informed you that he was selling off his body parts as a fund-raising scheme.... Edna A: No one, and it definitely wasn't any person named Who that informed me....Who were once a rock group, though. Don't make stupid, obvious assumptions like that. Reality, as you should know by now, is far more subtle,
2. Walt Q: What will be the purpose of this cactus spine acquisition? To sleep with at night? To impress your friends, most of whom can neither see, nor hear, nor even feel due to their advanced age and their focus on their own miseries and agendas...Like things they want to impress YOU with?! Edna A: 'No, that would be foolish to sleep with a sharp thing like that at night... Why, I ought to (and I very well may, when you least expect it) jam it up your butt or some other sensitive place while you're snoring (if I ever get one) for even suggesting something so stupid!!
3. Walt Q.: Why are you pressing yourself against me and breathing heavily? Another tactic, a tit for dat, to make me more copascetic about your cactus spine 'investment'? Edna A: No, it's something about us talking about cactus spines and sticking them in naughty, kinky places that is exciting... I can't explain it....It's subliminal, holistic, exocentric. But I'm getting really hot...pant! pant!! pant!!!... Take me right now, Walt. Take me as you've never taken me before. Take me all the way this time!!!..LIKE NEVER BEFORE!!pant! pant!! pant!!!...
4. Walt Q: I thought we already had 'gone all the way' in the past...Then again, as far as either of us can remember, we've never had any children.....So maybe where I put the pole in the hole is a dead end....But Is this a sleazy sexual incentive you are slyly offering me so that I'll invest in a worthless cactus spine which might have even come from some other cactus than Please B. Peas...or might even be synthetic, say made of some special kind of plastic that has the same feel, weight, and texture of a real cactus spine? Edna A.: It's beyond me...I'm admittedly irrational....Out of my mind for some crazy reason....I need you right now... I need your cactus spine... NOW!!!
5. Walt Q, reluctantly going along with Edna since she seems so frantic: Where did you put that DOWN-BOY stuff that we purchased when we realized that unbeknownst to us, Uncle Leonard had been living with us for the last fifty years. Remember, dear, we got it just in case he had desire for a woman when I was out around town or was out in the the yard wasting endless amounts of time and trying to remember what I was going to do, and you would be alone with that potential old-woman-humping/pumping scoundrel, although he is so retiring and uncommunicative that we are speculating about his sexuality, which could even be non-existent -- or aimed at other human genders, or even other animal species ...
Edna: A.The DOWN-BOY is in the cupboard where we keep Fiddles' Ish-Ka-Kibble, his favorite dry dog food. I do need to be calmed down, you're right Walt.... It's not normal for me to see you as so appealing and to have a desire to rip your clothes and maybe even some of your skin or even your scalp off, like an Indian -- and take utter, unholy, complete advantage of you!!
6. Walt Q: Do you think you can quietly wait here, while I get you a DOWN-BOY pill to turn down your desire to its normal, barely perceivable level? Edna A: Seriously, I don't know, Walt... Thinking of the souvenir spine and then your fat jiggly pale assymetrical mole-covered midsection and butt and how you have hair in-the-strangest-places, like on your tongue, is almost too much for me to stand, I've become such a slave to desire for some raison in the d'etre... I - I may have to scream while you're gone, until you return!!
7. Walt Q.: Do you think you can do a quiet or muffled scream if you're overwhelmed, maybe bury your face in the part of the couch that crotch frequents the most, and leaves its biggest 'markers' -- super-funky smells, different kinds of stains -- say on the section of cushion where I cut most of my wettest fxrts.... So the neighbors don't call the police?
Edna A: I think we may NEED the police here to protect you from my overwhelming, almost murderous lust....But I'll see if I can wait,... If I can't, I'll have to come after you and rape you with my incredible new reservoir of manic maniacal strength...
8. Walt Q, dashing out of the room and then back in with the bottle of DOWN-BOY and a glass of iced, chocolatey, nutritious Ovaltine, just like Ozzie and Harriet and their boys used to drink on every episode of their dramatically more wholesome show where definitely things like this never happened, and were never even contemplated by the actors, technicians, or audience back in those Post-WW2 super-squeaky-clean-wholesome times!!! Here you go, darling....I didn't read the instructions since we're in a hurry... Just take a few of these DOWN-BOYS....I'm sure if it cools down a rabidly horny guy hot for a particular sweet-smelling, sweet-looking, sweet-walking broad, it will do the same for you vis a vis a sexy lunk of pure manliness like me....(Walt shakes a couple pills out into her shaking, excited, jonesing hands.) Edna A: Gulp, gulp, gag, gulp. gulp, retch, gag, choke, choke....buuuurrrrppppppp!!
9. Walt Q: Would you like to sit down on the couch? Maybe take a little nap?? Edna, seemingly increasing radically in height, curves, vitality, power, will, and insanity as the pills begin to work, answers, her hands clawing at his shirt, ripping it and then his pants into shreds, so that he looks almost immeditely like an elderly shipwrecked sailor: 'I NEED YOU NOW....I MUST HAVE ALL OF YOU....WE MUST MAKE FEVERISH, INSANE, VIOLENT, BONE-BENDING/BREAKING LOVE UNTIL WE PASS OUT OR PASS ON!!
10. Walt Q, shaking: E-e-e-dna....this was sup-suposed to c-c-c-calm you DOWN....We thought DOWN-BOY taken by a girl would just be equivalent to DOWN-GIRL....something to make you asexual, just like you have been through much of our boring marriage......Maybe we should call Dr. Billes first, and see if you're experiencing a dangerous inverted reaction??? Edna A: (PICKING UP WALT LIKE A PLAYDOLL AND SLAMMING HIM DOWN ON HER COUCH, THEN JUMPING FEETFIRST ON HIS HEAVING CHEST, KNEELING THERE, AND RIPPING HIS SHIRT AND UNDERSHIRT AND LARGE PATCHES OF HIS EPIDERMIS OFF WITH HER FURRY, CLAWED HANDS, WHICH NOW APPEAR TO HAVE TWICE AS MANY CLAWS/FINGERS AS BEFORE....OR MAYBE IT'S ONLY THAT THEY'RE MOVING, SLASHING AT THE AIR,, SLASHING AT WALT, SO FAST, HER NAILS GLISTENING LIKE STAINLESS STEEL BLADES!!!)
Edna: 'And now we make love 'til DEATH DO US PART!!'
Walt, white as a sheet, his heart pounding like there's a dozen angry bill collectors at their door, his eyes bugged wide in fear, his body shaking: 'I think that may be any minute now!!'
Edna closes the curtains, and returns to stand by Walt, who is reading today's issue of the nationally acclaimed Skunkville-based daily paper, THE SKUNKVILLE CORN-HOLLER & CORN-HXLER...
Walt, as he flips to the pages in the thick World section to see if there's any more news about Bjnmtre, now that the narrow but long hidden country -- that had been quietly residing like a nearly invisible coiled snake within the borders of the U.S. -- has taken off for Deep Space 11, piloted by Flash Gorton, who came by his space-travelling money through the Gorton family's Flash-Frozen Fish Sandwiches billions.
'You know Edna: It's crazy and I should be put away again, as I was for quite a while in the past at AAFTED (Akron Arf!Arf!fanage For the Extremely Demented).... Then I escaped one night, but I found the streets of Akron to be mean....The street signs and buildings and even the street surface itself rudely insulted me, calling me outloud with cackleophony of dirty, disgusting names I had never heard before, like 'you stinker' and 'you loser' and 'you dope' that were shouted so loudly it seemed to actually be coming from inside my own head!....The outer environment and their blistering assessments of me filled me with a choking gusher of self-hatred, so much so that I ran back as fast and as hard as I could, gasping for air from the exertion of the brief excursion, back into the relative safety and peace of the AAFTED building, which always left their doors unlocked, in hope that some of the overload of daft patients would depart due to the overcrowded conditions (like having to sleep 'bunk-style' in a single bed, i.e., three men sleeping on top of each other, with me usually at the bottom, 300-400 pounds of stinking male bodies sweating on top of me, making it very difficult to sleep normally...and impossible to roll over...yes, I returned to a place to which I never wanted to ever return...Then I changed my mind and went back out again...this cycle iterated for the entire night, until I finally fell asleep on the hard stone steps of AAFTED....realizing I might have found the perfect spot.
'But when morning came with a big groan I reluctantly decided to anxiously return to the AAFTED facility...Only to find that all the Counsellors and other staff as well as all my many, crazy-as-me-some-even-worse patient friends had packed up and moved to Las Vegas...Stepping carefully over my body as they tiptoed down the poorly lit outer steps where I lay, obviously oblivious.... They left In a 'borrowed' Greyhundt Bus driven by one of the relatively more stable insanity counsellors....most of whom were ex-patients who had 'graduated'....
The reason for their sudden relocation: The weather was better in Vegas, more conducive to sanity, and, for the patients, escaping from the unit would be more fun out there, with more people about at night, and a lower proportion of them violent, plus several of the most influential AAFTED execs were people who had fallen off the GA, i.e. Gamblers' Anonymous, wagon...who felt that they could control their gambling now....Especially if they gambled the AAFTED money, and tried to make the organization stronger with their proceeds, so their pay might be increased, and conditions improved.'
Edna, plopping down into his lap, as Walt cries out in pain, his ramble interrupted as his jarred nuts send electrical shocks to his spine and brain...He's about to scream in righteous pain, then thinks better of it: he forces himself to stifle his agony and somehow quiet down instead... and begins massaging Edna's still shapely legs to get his mind off his injured 'eggs', continuing:
'Anyhow, I still can't remember how we got back to earth from that Flash Gorton Frozen Fish space delivery vehicle, which had an almost infinite supply of Gorton Flash-Frozen Fish Sandwiches on it, made, as I recall, from atomic particles scooped from outer space, as we moved along near the breakneck speed of light...and our near light speed somehow stretching our ship and making it ligft-years-long, and allowing us to carry an essentially infinite number of the Flash-frozen spacefish sandwiches to the endless hungry beings that inhabit the known, unknown, imaginary, and hidden universes....Where we would trade them for gold and diamonds and rare space memorabilia...
And I can't remember for the lfe of me why we came back: although I'm glad we're here, back on our olde home sweet sphere.
'But now (said with disappointment, discouragement, unlike the Walt we know and some of us love) I return counting on finding security, familiar surroundings, solace, peace and quiet relaxation -- and there's this sudden uproar in our usually quiet town of Skunkville about all those thousands -- maybe millions -- of Cacti who have gradually migrated up here to the Midwest due to the global warming...In Texas, it's just become too daxn hit even for the cacti, and the rattlers that are riding here as well on their 'branches'...Although they, by twisting their felxible bodies into long passages of script, prose... Have promised that they have given up their poisonous ways, and will simply live on the cactus cadavers caused by the long trip or difficulty adjusting to the rainy, cold weather of Northwest Southeast Ohio...
'But back to the cacti....people don't realize that Cacti, like all animals, suffer in the heat just like people or other animals do.... Cacti have a higher heat threshold, which is why they could stand places like Texas -- until now -- but they too can become dehydrated, with no one in miles willing and/or able to bring them, say, a nice, chilled glass of water,,, Except maybe the man on The Horse with No Name, who spends his life now nurturing the Cacti as best as he can, now that he's no longer famous....'
Edna, yawning: 'Okay, get on with it.... What's yer point... I haven't got all day to listen to your tooting, captain.'
Walt: 'Well, as our two or three loyal readers may vaguely remember, those cacti have been wonderful, model citizens here.... Like when Devil Doll's ingenious but not-perfected beyond-the-state-of-the-art townwide automatic waste disposal system began trapping humans and pets and putting them in the express chute for the Atomic Disintegrator, which disintegrates all our waste and reintegrates it as gold and diamonds and Spanish Fly for consumer resale and such.... Largely benefiting Devil Doll and his top cronies...as well as our economy to a degree.'
Edna: 'Yes, just having the little doll's business here with all the jobs associated with it....Has made this America's #1 boomtown!'
Walt: 'Edna, no need to belabor that well-known fact...You're interrupting me too much, always wanting to do most of the talking... Now, let's get back to the misbehaving townwide automatic waste disposal system which almost turned us into a BOOM!! town.... Remember, it wuz the heroic, selfless Cacti that came in and jammed it up and prevented a single little kid or old fogey or one of their less heroic cactus friends from being hurt...and also they helped cool down the atomic coils themselves, to keep the town itself from melting down...'
Edna: 'Yes, but you are conveniently skipping, or at least blythely skimming by, the one affluent middle-aged person who was disintegrated before the Cacti could jam the processor!!'
Walt: 'Yes, you speak of the death-worshipping woman. Ima Gonner, who was just about to jump off the top of the Scruffiplex, 500' feet high....but who then saw an opportunity to die in a more spectacular way, going down perhaps as the noteworthy first, leadoff victim of the Skunkville Atomic Disintegrator Massacre.... rather than in a lonely, unsensational way, like just going splat on the sidewalk like millions of others have done over the centuries, may God rest and soothe their tormented souls....She rushed down so as to be snatched by the malfunctioning auto-sanitation system ahead of all the other, innocent, trapped victims.....Thinking she might find and even fall in love with a severely depressed male victim like herself, deliberately en route to their last moments, and then they might change their minds and go see the local Skunkville Justice of the Peace, 'Peas' Peters.... From when he used to be a pea farmer, and also from the way he has to go 'take a whiz' mebbe a hundred times a day, according to his talkative wife ....
'But ironically, there was no time for any romance, and she was the one casualty in the entire INCIDENT: vaporized....into a quickly dispersed cloud of steam....human shaped at first, even with boobs, although they were small and dissipated quickly, then she looked just like a little cloud, floating upward towards the sky, perhaps a baby cloud returning to the huge cumulus parent cloud above, but eventually her shape completely changing in the air current as she rose higher and higher to that of a dodo bird....then into a mouse-like thing with long fangs....then into what looked roughly like a map of SouthWestern Central Ohio....then into a smoke ring....and then.....dispersed and no longer nameable, too fragmented...a unified entity no longer...as will probably be our fates as well...to be diluted into the melting pot of the universe and becoming a tiny little insignificant part of everythng, thus no longer caring about whatever happened to 'Walt and Edna Brown', whomever or whatever they once were....
Edna: 'Yes, but Devil Doll was somehow able to vacuum up and reintegrate and reinvigorate even that person, whom you describe as a a dodo bird then mouse-like-thing, then a poorly done map of Western Ohio, etc., using the cloud remnants' DNA and NRA and IOU and LOL and now that lovely being is actually working for DVD as his personal assistant .... What a great break, what a HPY ending!'
Walt: 'So DVD says he did revive her to her old self....Yes....But, readers, that doesn't mean we advocate attempted suicide for citiizens in any way, right Edna? And I've heard being DVD's personal assistant is a horrible, if good-paying job... But people may nor last long in it, with Devil Doll's literally fiery temper!!''
Edna: 'That's right...we only advocate suicide for you, Walt, you're the only exception.........Just kidding!!.. But regarding the lucky lady...Maybe her gender will soften DVD's rusty metal heart...'
Walt: 'Yes....we can only hope, for her sake....I guess.....But getting back to the sorry day of the waste disposal disaster... Don't you remember that there were some casualties... I know we already mentioned this, but I am speaking of the poor, valiant, selfless Cacti who lost limbs and some who lost their lives when they used their own prickly selves to jam the powerful machine, sacrificing themselves for some reason to save the endangered humans!!'
Walt saddens, thinking about it... so does Edna.... There is quiet for a while, except for some quiet farts, mostly from Fiddles, who, lying sated on the old kitchen tile floor, lets go of peaceful farts... as he dreams his doggie dreams....
After a while, Walt unleashes an attention-calling clarion fart, and adds in a more quiet, reserved tone: 'Have you heard of that the cousin of the late great Dr. Martin Duluther Cactus, a well-educated, brilliant, compassionate giant cactus, 20 feet tall, from Duluth, Minnesota, who was for decades involved in cactus rights in several of the midwest states.... That his cousin, Please B. Peas Cactus may be coming here to Ohio, to make sure that any individual or group cactus demonstration is lawful, non-violent, and beneficial for all concerned?'
Edna, her eyes taking on a wistful look: 'Dr. Martin Duluther Cactus...One of the greatest, most intelligent non-human leaders of our millenium... Everyone will want an autographed spine from his cousin, Please B. Peas...'
Walt, eyes bulging: 'Are you nuts? How many spines do you think his cousin has? Do you want him to be left defenseless in this dangerous world in which we live -- especially dangerous for a compassionate orator -- just so he can provide thousands of hobbyists a collectible that they will just lose in an old drawer or accidentally sit on and have to be rushed to the hospital with some kind of feverish cactus infection -- or, if they're luckier, a spine will just sell or trade at a small profit or breakeven, so they don't have to worry about sitting on it any more??'
Edna, her eyes again taking on a wistful look: 'I always knew you were the spineless type....Well, maybe if the cousin allows only one per family...I wouldn't dare sell it... I would keep it in my purse to remind me to always try to be selfless and good...And presumably he would use the funds to further his prickly activism...'
Walt, huffily: 'Fat chance: that he'll sell his spines like souvenirs: a very capitalist, or cactalilist idea....And if you somehow get a collectible spine from a relative of the great, now sadly departed, Martin Duluther Cactus, I'm warning you -- I'm going to stick it in your fat butt in the middle of the night when you're sound asleep... Think about it... Think about it.....Before you pester him when he has much more important things to which to attend....'
Edna, suddenly panting and sultry, falls into his arms: 'I need your spine...right now!!'
Walt looks around for help....such a rude interjection into their sensitive, prickly discussion: 'Excuse me, Edna! I must have misuderstood!!' he says, pulling away from her... but she follows him passionately.... Then he eases her off of him as gently as possible and scurries to the kitchen.
Walt, seeking high and low in the kitchen he rarely visits, as Fiddles growls at him and nips at his ankles.....'Hey, lay off, Doggy, if you want to still be here tomorrow.... I'm in no mood for your aggravation on top of hers!'
Walt opens and closes the cabinet doors, until he spots a bottle of High Time's (Devil Doll's trillion dollar company) DOWN-BOY....
Walt, quickly looking at the massive amount of written instructions and warnings on the bottle....'I wonder if this works on 'girls' as well as 'BOYS'...I think would have to....After all, what's good for the goose is similarly good for the gander...everyone knows that's a true truism!'
Fiddles seems to be frantic now, perhaps using his psychic powers to 'see' what Walt is planning... Then, after he has had his doggy-vision, he takes a big bite of Walt's trousers, going right through them as well as his skin... while Walt drags him behind, Fiddles' arthritic jaw clamped on his leg, back into the living room...
Where Edna is lying in some kind of revery on his couch, her mouth open, and eyes closed, presumably dreaming some erotic dream...maybe even involving him, her one and only husband...If he could only join her in the dream...it would be so much easier, so much less exhausting, so much less sloppy than doing 'it' live....Well, we'll make sure we do it on 'her' couch if 'it' happens.....But first I need to try to forestall the situation until a more appropriate time, he thinks as plops a couple of DOWN-BOY pills in Edna's mouth then shuts her trap gently and massages her throat, as he's seen on the dog shows on TV.
Then he relaxes, while Fiddles keeps pestering him, licking the instructions on the bottle as if he should read them....
'DOWN-BOY! anti-erection pills. To be used by males when bothered or bullied about by unwanted or embarrassing erections in the presence of members of the shy, clean-living opposite sex. Note for gay men, please use: DOWN-GUY! instead of DOWN-BOY! for best results.
BOXED SCREAMING CAUTION: DOWN-BOY NEVER EVER EVER EVER TO BE ADMINISTERED TO FEMALES, GAY OR STRAIGHT!!!! READ THE 100'S OF TERRIFYING REASONS WHY IN THIS BOXED WARNING.
Indeed, listed below in fine print seem to be 237 horrifying adverse affects of giving DOWN, BOY! rather then the appropriate WHOA, HONEY! to an overly or dangerously amorous woman.
Meanwhile, Edna has awakened, and Walt steps several reflexive steps backward.... As he views her huge glowing yellow eyes....her shiny fangs, blood dripping off them from some little animal, hopefully not Fiddles, let's just say a raw chicken wing from the fridge....her wild perm -- maybe five times as much hair and as many tight curls..... as just a minute ago....
Walt, his hands shaking like crazy as she slowly rises, begins trying to read the exceedingly tiny print of the BLACK BOX warning on the medicine regarding how it is NEVER TO BE ADMINISTERED TO FEMALES.... But his hands are far too shaky and all he sees is a dizzying blur of tiny letters,,,, other than the huge
'#1 RULE: RUN AWAY FROM HER AS FAST AND AS FAR AS POSSIBLE! THEN NOTIFY LOCAL CRIME PREVENTION AS WELL AS MEDICAL AND ANIMAL CONTROL AUTHORITIES....' at the top....as he drops the carton on the floor, and Edna, with her suddenly hairy, clawed feet crushes the box and shreds it with her glistening sharp toe blades....
'Honest injun!' Walt cries.... 'I promise I'll always read every medicine label from stem to stern and from portside to starbored in the future.... SOMEBODY HELLLLLLLLPPPPPPPP!!! READERS....THAT INCLUDES YOU...DON'T JUST LEAVE ME HERE ALONE IN THIS BLOG TO BE TORN TO THREADS...OR SHREDS...OR PIECES'
Then, like a caged tiger let loose, Edna pounces, all four clawed hands/feet straining to reach Walt's face and, particularly, the wildly pumping jugular in his neck!!!
Walt hears a cheerful female voice from a nearby room. 'Would lou like a cup of steaming, hot Ovaltine, Walt?'
Walt, still disoriented from his space travel, and Edna's abrupt arrival at his location in space, and quick snatch of him back to his mundane life on Earth: 'I've never heard of anything like that...Ovulateen is what you said? Yucch! Is it at all like the Light Speed Coffee I was drinking in space? That would keep me Bug-Eyed-Monster Awake for a month at a time, since we were so low on capable crew to man such a large intergalactic vessel!'
Edna, the various cups and plates and Ovaltine accessories clattering from the next room in a homely way: 'Capable crew? How would keeping you awake help, not hurt, that situation? You can't hardly remember how to drive our car ('Do I push on this pedal to go left, and this to go right, and turn this big wheel thing to set the speed?'), 'Or even how to open the car door ('Is there a hidden underground entrance below the chassis? Let me crawl under the chassis and try to find that lower portal in....I've become more of a backdoor man of late')!!'
Walt, returning his gaze to the Skunkville Investigator and Insulter, the town's most serious newspaper. 'Oh, look at this headline, Edna: LOCAL MAN RETURNS SENILE FROM FAILED SPACE MISSION subtitle: Could Space Make You an Instant Drooling Senile?' What a coincidence... some other dunce from this town was up in space right when I was.... Isn't that always the way? You think you're doing something special, and then somebody sneaks in and does you one better, and then you're left being a nonentity just as before....'
Edna: 'Yes... But what's so good about being famous... Didn't I read where they studied a sample of a hundred well-known celebs for 100 years and almost of them died during that period!!!'
Walt: 'Yes, well, dying at less than 100 isn't that strange, Edna... We just have good. lucky jeans, which we wear every day and rarely if ever wash....We just have to be extremely careful on that one rare day when our stinky main jeans are in the wash, and we're using someone else's backup jeans, which we got from the Senior Citizens clothing drop.'
Edna, turning a bit pink in embarrassment at that memory: 'Yes, Walt, but it wasn't proper for you to belly-flop into the opened dumpster of used, unwanted clothing, and worm around in it like you did -- I don't know how you kept breathing -- but I could see the hump you were creating as you tunnelled around in the complete stifling darkness, 'shopping for some new jeans'!! Oh, I was so mortified when Mayor Grafte stopped by to give me a kiss and a squeeze and wish me a good day, and then pulled his revolver from his belt, when he saw the commotion going on under the surface of the pile of senior used clothing, thinking it was some prevert waiting to rape me!!'
Walt, turning serious: 'Yes, you should have warned me he was coming so I could have burrowed to an area where I could breathe and stay still...'
Edna, reddening: 'But I DID, you numbskull...but the place you picked, your big old butt was sticking out of the pile!!'
Walt, turning more serious, more burdened: 'Look, Edna... I've just spent many light-years zooming around outer space with Dr. Zinkoff and I believe even the girls were there... and maybe even Ming the Merciless from the old Flash Gorton series, about a handsome blonde fellow, Buster Crabcake, I believe, trying to market his branded Flash Gorton fish sandwiches to various nearby solar systems in Outer Space....Then in the end, you came and saved me...Ooooohhh... I need to give you another kiss of thanks mixed with lots of raw lust!!'
Edna, panting in the aftermath, her eyes bright: 'Yes, you mean I woke you up from your nap because you were screaming my name and saying: 'If you save me from this, I promise to try being completely loyal to you from now on!!' Now if that isn't an admission of marital cheating, what is???'
Walt, sheepishly, big shxt-faced grin: 'Maybe some very innocuous cheating, but only in my dreams, for garsh sakeys! I have no control over the content of my dreams.... You remember the Supreme Court Ruling on that, don't you? You can only be executed for death-penalty laws broken in your waking life.... The carrying out of these crimes in dreams will at worst give you some lengthy jail-term, albeit at federal prisons where most of the light dream-offenders who are put there have many crimes committed against them, and usually then beg to be given the death sentence after all!!'
MAYBE WE'LL PICK UP MORE OF THIS FASCINATING CONJUGULAR DISCUSSION TOMORROW, BUT PROBABLY NOT... BECAUSE THERE'S SOME REALLY BIG SXXX COMING DOWN THE DRAIN NOW...
Each male member of the party travelling on the U.S. Intergalactic Cruiser I -- captained by rumble-throated worry-wart score-keeping Warrior Dr. Zinkov, and piloted by ex-sea-captain Walt Brown, who of course was the secret Earthling identity of Flash Gorton in the great old 1930's Flash Gorton cereals, back when Walt was younger, more muscular, more handsome, and more blonde-haired -- has the additional rotating job of patrolling the ship during the 8 hours when they are not doing their main job (for Walt, piloting the ship, for Dr. Jorkoff, providing scientific explanations of everything on the ship or why they need to do/scheme whatever thing they're doing/scheming -- For Jill and Linda, the demeaning jobs -- well, demeaning if they were feminists rather than needy, people-pleasing types -- of cooking for everyone in the ship's galley, and possibly even doing lap dances as they run laps and/or dance around the ship's indoor track , if it suits the pair...And for the male crew in the evening, in order to help them unwind for their long day of doing something important and possibly dangerous, like having to face alien warrioresses who want to kill or capture them to serve as sex slaves -- unlike Jill and Linda's safe, mundane cooking or at least heating up and preparing and serving food, like Flash Gorton's Frozen Fish Sandwiches, in cocktail waitress uniforms and then cleaning up the mess afterward, which always seems to require a lot of bending over in their brief waitress skirts as an inordinate number of things are clumsily knocked on the floor, under the table....just before the girls arrive to clean that area!!
Much of this of course to the male crewmen's delight! After all, and here desperate horny unliberated Linda & Jill agree, the men must be kept healthy and happy and satisfied and unhorny if the vital mission is to succeed....
'Excuse me,' handsome rejuvenated, renovated blonde Flash/Walt interrupts his scientific coworker Zortovortoz strategically scrapes off the food then throws each item into the soapy, steaming water, 'But I think I've begun to forget what our mission consists of: what are our specific objectives, Dr. Jackov, and how are we planning to meet these objectives, and what do we do next, once we are done and have checked off ALL the objectives as in: OBJECTIVE ACCOMPLISHED OR OBJECTIVE DELETED: WAY TOO MUCH TROUBLE FOR WHAT IT'S WORTH TO US.
Dr. Zinkov: 'I think we would then wend our way home, Flash.... Probably go to a tropical island on a planet along the way, like steamy Mercury, or perpetually hot and romantic Venus, relax in the undo warmth, with beautiful women from myriad planets around assisting us in satisfying our every reasonable want or need....'
Flash, perhaps hung up a bit on the scientist's authoritative answer: 'Why not beautiful men and ugly men and ugly women there to assist us too? We don't want to become too selective...besides, do you know, Dr. Z-O that I recently read in a magazine that beauty is only skin deep...or maybe it was I heard that old song by The Temptations... And, most importantly, what about intense yearning to see my lovely, kookie, long-standing, long-suffering, tried-and-true soldier of a wife, Edna? Already I miss her so much I'm ready to shxt-can this mission and go home post haste!'
Jill & Linda: 'Worry not, Walt... We are here to satisfy your every elderly need...if you deign such assistance would be within your moral compass... We are trained in the rare skill of satisfying men just as much if the revulse us as if we adore them, and what them so badly we want to find a hole and crawl inside them and never see the light of day again....'
Dr. Zinkoff: 'Ah....that's the attitude, girls, I could tell from every interface I've had with you that you are women designed to perform the roles required in this mission...Speaking of that, I was thinking of having you two over -- just you two -- tonight, to my incredibly spacious and plush stateroom...''
Brunette Jill: 'You mean, are we willing to sacrifice or provide everything, even the use of our natural bodies as any males see fit, to meet the trip and male staff requirements? If so, that has been our strategy for years, while on the spinning orb of Earth, and also out here, in outer space....We'll do anything to receive false or legit affection from a man, even on a temporary basis....one step ahead of the emotional dumpster where we find ourselves time after time....As if we missed something when the brains and the charm and the bxxbs and the axxes and the twxts were being passed out... '
Flash/Walt: 'Well hold it now, Dr. Zorrokov and you two/too, girls. I've forgotten: are there any other women on board besides you two?'
Blonde Linda: 'I'm not sure about that; I'll read the earlier chapters of this drawnout, sleep-inducing tale so I can give you the correct poop... But I hope there aren't.... and if there are, we may have to find a way for them to have a convenient little 'accident'...like having a vacuum suck them right out a mistakenly on purpose opened portal!!'
Flash/Walt: 'Hold it for a second again ladies.... You forget that I, Flash, am secretly in love with Princess Aurora, much to my shame and distress, and it is rumored that Aurora is on this vessel in defiance if her father, the Emperor, the Merciless Ping!! She seeks to come to Our Side, help us to contain the Bjnmtre threat to all mankind, as well as menevil!!! Having seen the accidental atrocities her father has committed in his experiments with humans in an effort to create the ultimate warrior.... There's nothing wrong with you two, for example, but at least the Flash if not the Walt side of me must also consider my previous emotional, and to a degree physical, involvement with the lovely, exotic Aurora.'
Brunette Jill: 'That's alright.... there are plenty of crewmen who haven't yet been introduced in the Skunkville Saga authoritative text who could also be a 'good fit' for me...'
Blonde Linda rolls her eyes, pretending like she's fainting, agreeing: 'You better believe it, sister... But, frankly, you, Jill, can have slow-moving, featureless wallflower Uncle Leonard all to yourself...'
Jill, beaming: 'Good! Great!! I've already tasted just a slight bit of that forbidden fruit and found it much better tasting and more satisfying than you would ever imagine!!'
Linda wheels and stares at Jill like she has flipped her gourd, as does Dr. Zanecks and Merciless, Evil Emperor Ping, who has just stepped out of the shadows, where he has caught and committed to memory every word of their 'gameplan'...
Meanwhile, Uncle Leonard appears to again be communicating with someone as before -- on his one long strand of hair strung from the top of his head down across his ear and then to his mouth -- first he listens carefully with his right ear, then he hyperjabbers with such rapid WPM speed to whomever is on the other end, that no one can follow a word he is hyperspeed-jointing.
Flash/Walt, ignoring all the side-distractions: 'But Mr. Xarkoff, what is the endgame here.... What is our ultimate objective...Why are we even travelling through space? Why not just travel on Earth, on say, a Greyhound Bus, and leave the driving to them?'
Dr. Z. looks at Walt as if he has blown all the circuits in his head at once...a mental blowout....but is finally able to mutter: 'I can't believe it....after all this time, all this preparation, all this discussion over and over again about just this topic!'
Walt: 'Is it the Purple Rot that you believe is travelling as fast as lightning across the Known as well as the Unknown as well as the Overly Familiar, and Currently Only Imaginary Universes? A jock rot so virulent that those who contract it xxx xxxx xxxxxx xxxx xxxxx xxx xx xxxxxxxxxxxxxy?'
Linda and Jill turn as pale as a ghost as they hear what it does... Even Merciless Emperor Ping seems to choke for a second, then disappears back into the shadows from which he came -- and POOFF! is gone entirely from the ship, according to the ship's Identities on Board Sensors (IOBS).
Dr. Z., staring at the IOBS screen, 'Oh my my! Someone has just materialized by some kind of Star Truck type metal beam....I can't believe it.... It couldn't be.... How could they track you down, Walt, with no advanced technology and all the infinite Universe to search???'
Walt/Flash: 'I'll bet it's Bert Fartley, with whom I went to high school? I thought he was underground in the economical live-in coffin he purchased to cut down on his monthly expenses, once his wife left him to have an affair with the powerful Devil Doll, of all non-people! Now he's passed -- maybe he missed the rent, and the graveyard turned off the oxygen flow off to his live-in coffin in retaliation -- with predictable results!'
Z: 'Be serious... Guess again, and if your next guess is incorrect, I'm going to flip over all the cards and reveal to you the correct answer...and you'll be kicking yourself...hard! As will the person, for not thinking of them!!'
Walt/Flash: 'Oh no....are you kidding? This was supposed to be like a vacation for me, one of the first in my life without this person...'
Z: 'You're getting warm: I think you have it.... Walt, what is your final answer??'
Walt/Flash: 'It's me, Walt Brown!! And here I was hoping I could just segue completely into Flash on this trip and never have to be that old turkey again!! Daxn it all!! Oh, shxt!!!'
Z: 'You truly are a numbskull. like she has always told you!'
Walt/Flash: 'Oh no!! Not my Mom....How did you run into her?? She'll drive me crazy with her nagging about cleaning up my room, and washing the horse, and stuff....'
Z: 'Wrong again... And now I'm going to have to flip over all the cards and have the person come out on stage...Ladies and gentlemen, entering from Stage Right is none other than xxxx xxx xxxx, xxxx xxxxx..!!!'
The crowd roars as Walt/Flash holds his ears and looks for an escape hatch!!