Hurlyburly - The Continuing Tragic Saga - Chapter 15

"GO GRETZKY!!!!" Emily screamed. The cheers of the crowd at Rexall Place were deafening. Her favourite hockey team, the Edmonton Oilers, was playing against her least favourite team, the Ranfurly Meat Puppets. The score was currently 15-0.

"Show your pecker for Peca," the crowd chanted, "More fanny for Pisani! Show your titties for Smytty! More skin for Roloson!"

Emily joined in with great gusto. Her voice was hoarse and she had spilled beer all over the leg of the man sitting next to her, but she didn't really care. She was swept up in the most exciting game of her life. "Show your shlonger for Pronger!" she yelled. Suddenly, the crowd went quiet. Emily looked around in alarm. The crowd was gone and the players had all vanished. It was dark. She was alone in the Coliseum. Or, so she thought.

"Whoa, mon etudiante!" a deep, familiar voice startled her. Emily spun around, the last of her beer spraying around her like a garden sprinkler.

M. Nault, her old Social Studies teacher stood a few feet away. His perfectly groomed hair and Hitleresque moustache looked exactly as she remembered, but she was shocked and appalled to see that he was wearing only a lime green loincloth. "Vat happened?" she demanded, "Where's Peca and Pronger?"

"They were never here. You were having a powerful hallucination. I psychically transmitted the details of a cherished dream of yours in order to communicate with you."

"Hein?" Emily was disturbed, yet highly intrigued.

"You and your friends are in grave peril, mon etudiante. And, I am afraid that the only person who can save you all may become incapacitated." M. Nault looked quite grave, indeed. "We don't have much time. Our link is tenuous at best. You are under the influence of a powerful cocktail of chloroform, scotch, Rasta weed and ostrich excrement. Of your group, you are the only one with the stamina to overcome its effects due to your superhuman ability to consume copious amounts of alcohol and still function at a high level."

"Well, I can't argue with that!" Emily chortled.

"Silence! This is no laughing matter. Listen carefully. I am going to tell you of a powerful spell that can be used when the situation becomes grim. If you can recite it correctly, then the hurly burly will be done and the battle will be lost and won." M. Nault intoned seriously.

Emily was frightened. What in Sam Hill was going on? She wanted to run away, or start slapping M. Nault's tallywhacker with a tennis racket. She desperately wished that her alarm would awaken her- NOW! But, she also kind of wanted to see what would happen. "Sooooo... what's this chant you're on about?"

"Listen and listen well:

'Evad, etak, Xela, Ho.
Ecirb, Anaes, Retpoc, Cho.
Yblib, Ellehcim, Eel.
Mekkalecca Hi,
Mekkahini Ho,
Nairb,
Nairb,
Nairb,
ZOOT!'

Do you think you be able to recall these important words?"

Emily raised her eyebrows and snorted. She was completely gobsmacked. "I seriously doubt it."

M. Nault sighed in exasperation. "I was afraid of that. I must take drastic measures." To Emily's shock and awe, M. Nault pulled a brightly coloured stick that looked suspiciously like a magic wand, with a pink sparkly star on the tip of it out of his pocket. He pointed it at her forehead. “By the power of Gretzky, you shall recall!!!”

A fluorescent beam of yellow light emanated from the wand and hit Emily in the center of her forehead. She fell over backwards, as a purple unicorn with a silver horn charged at her. Before she could react, the unicorn inserted its horn into her forehead. Emily screamed in terror, but she was surprised to find that it didn’t hurt at all. In fact, the sensation was bizarrely pleasant. The unicorn backed away, and trotted over to M. Nault’s side. Emily got to her feet.

“My work here is done. I pray for your success.” M. Nault and the unicorn vanished before Emily could say another word.

All went black.

Hurlyburly - The Continuing Tragic Saga - Chapter 14

"Like a virgin...HEY! Touched for the very first time..."

Andrea and Greg were singing at the top of their lungs to a Madonna CD as Andrea deftly weaved her car through heavy traffic on Georgia Street. Andrea was feeling a little lonely without Bilby, and she had invited Greg over for dinner and a game of scrabble to keep her company.

"God, this traffic is ludicrous," Andrea sighed. "Oh well, we should be there pretty soon, what do you want me to get Munroe to make for supper?"

"Hmm, I don't know, maybe some lasagna or something?" Greg said. "Oh God, please tell me Philseecopter isn't going to be there!"

"Hein?" Andrea said. "Are you two having problems?"

"Well yeah," replied Greg. "I am planning to break up with him as soon as I can find the right moment. I just can't handle dating a helicopter anymore, we never even have sex!"

"Oh no," said Andrea. "I totally understand how you feel Greg, but I am going to have to feed him soooooo mcuh ice cream to comfort him after you dump him."

"I know Andrea, I am so sorry but I have to do it," Greg said. "Besides, I met someone else, the lead singer from Loverboy, and I think I might be falling in love with him."

"Are you serious Greg?" Andrea said, laughing. "You know Loverboy totally sucks though, right?

"What are you talking about, they ROCK!" Greg yelled.

"Okay then," replied Andrea sarcastically. "Well Philsee probably will be there, but he'll be on the roof. I just won't tell him that you're over.

"Thanks, I appreciate it," Greg said. "I just want to eat and play scrabble in peace."

Finally, a few minutes later, they arrived at Andrea's condo. There was a bright yellow RV parked in her usual parking spot, so they parked the car a block down and headed upstairs. When Andrea opened the condo door, the first thing she noticed was the smell of fresh feces in the air.

"Munroe? Are you there?" she called.

"Madam!!! Thank God you're home!" Munroe yelled as he ran into the front entranceway from the kitchen. "I don't know what to do, something horrible has happened!"

Andrea noticed that Munroe's butler uniform seemed wrinkled and tattered, and it had brown stains all over it. She wondered with alarm if that was where the fecal odor was coming from.

"Calm down, Munroe," Andrea said. "What in Sam Hill is going on?"

"Master Philseecopter and Alex have been kidnapped!" He shouted. "They were on the roof, I went inside to change, and when I went back up to the roof, they were gone, and all that was left was a chloroform covered rag and this strange purse."

He held up a large grey Puma brand bag. "There's no way they went for another ride, we had all just gone on a ride and were exhausted! When I went downstairs, Philseecopter was falling asleep!"

"That's Emily's purse, what the hell!?" Andrea said. "Okay Munroe, slow down and explain to me what happened. Who was this Alex you were talking about? Not Alex MacDougall?"

"Why yes, I believe his last name was MacDougall," Munroe said.

"What the hell was he doing here?" Andrea asked. "I never gave you permission to have visitors?! I didn't know you even knew Alex!"

"I'm so sorry, Ma'am," Munroe said, his cheeks blushing a bright pink. "I had some free time in the afternoon, so I called the escort agency...come to think of it my escort never did arrive..."

"You invited an escort into my home!?" Andrea shouted. "Okay we'll deal with that later, but you still haven't explained what the fuck Alex was doing here!"

"He came over to speak to you, milady," Munroe explained. "But we...well, we kind of hit it off, and then he met Master Philseecopter and...well, one thing led to another..."

"Are you trying to tell me you had a...a threesome with Alex and Philseecopter!?" Andrea giggled a bit in spite of herself. Greg looked horrified.

"Yes'm," said Munroe. "I am truly sorry I defied your authority, it shan't happen again. But I am very worried about Philsee and Alex, I believe they have been kidnapped."

"This is appalling," Andrea said. "I wonder if this purse means Emily is in trouble too!"

Andrea took her cell phone out of her pocket and attempted to call Emily. All she heard was a message saying "This cellular user is currently out of the range of our service. Please try again later."

"We are going to have to get to the bottom of this!" Andrea said firmly.

Just then, Andrea noticed a text message appear on her cell phone. She took a look, and saw that it said "Your friends are in big trouble in Texas, bring weapons, do not trust Lee."

"Holy mackerel Andy," Andrea whispered. She checked to see where it had been sent from, and instead of a cell number, there was text saying "Official Air Canada Communication, Botswana Division"

"That's odd," she said. "Lee works for Air Canada. But the message said not to trust Lee? What the fuck is going on?"

"I don't know Ms. Warner," replied Munroe.

"I hope Philseecopter is okay," Greg said, a tear running down his cheek. "I guess he must have known I was planning on breaking up with him, and decided to cheat on me with you and Alex. Can't say I blame him."

"I need to get on the next flight to Texas," Andrea said. "Would you like to come with me Greg?"

"You bet your a-hole I do, Andrea."

Hurlyburly - The Continuing Tragic Saga - Chapter 13

"Darling... we are about to land. Wake up, my lovely lioness." Loverboy's silky smooth voice reverberated in her ear.

"Oh, I must have dozed off." Michelle muttered. She looked out the window, and saw the hot desert landscape below. But, there was something kind of odd. There appeared to be a large statue of a giant pineapple in the center of the village. Michelle leaned closer, trying to get a better look. It was no ordinary pineapple, it was a statue of a man who looked like a pineapple. Michelle was somewhat bewildered. Her bewilderment quickly turned into revulsion when she noticed the giant penis dangling between the pineapple-man's legs. The member had to be at least 20 feet long... and if her memory of her studies of the culinary arts served her correctly, it appeared to be made out of pineapple! "Loverboy, what the hell is that monstrosity?!?"

"It is no monstrosity, my lilac-breasted budgie. It is a representation of the god Pineappleocoles, a most powerful and revered deity. He is the true father of us all, for we came from the soil of the earth, like the delicious fruit we ingest each and every day. Everytime you eat a bit of pineapple, you are ingesting a piece of our bona fide saviour. Soon, you will meet some good friends of mine, and they will be able to explain all to you, my fragile flower. I think you will like it in Bobtercock."

"Ooookaaayyy, then." Michelle sighed and turned away. Loverboy was acting very strangely. Michelle wondered if she was truly in love with him. A high pitched beeping noise emanated from the direction of Loverboy's crotch. "What is that awful noise?"

Loverboy pulled a ping pong paddle out of his pocket and began slapping his crotch until the shrill sound subsided. "Oh, never mind that. It's only my cock-ring."

Michelle sighed contentedly. Her apprehension had suddenly melted away. Bobtercock looked like a very nice place, and what an interesting landmark! If Vegreville could have a giant egg, then, why shouldn't Bobtercock have a pineapple/man/god with a colossal penis? Michelle snuggled up to Loverboy, and amused herself by fingering his chest fur, as the plane touched down and taxied over to the Bobtercock Airport. They were just getting ready to disembark when a strange little man with a hunchback approached them. He was dressed in a pilot's uniform, but he had a jaunty red beret on his head instead of a pilot's hat.

"G'day, me hearties!" he exclaimed in a strong Australian accent. "The captain has asked to see you both a moment before you take your leave."

"This is highly irregular." Loverboy interjected.

"Oh, it will only take a moment. Captain Lee says that the lady here is friendly with his wife. He wants to say hello!"

"It's Lee! Well, of course we'll come and say hello. I want him to meet you darling!" Michelle pulled Loverboy over towards the cockpit and knocked on the door.

"Enter," an authoritative-like voice boomed from within.

Michelle opened the door and stepped into the cockpit. To her surprise, it appeared to be empty. "Lee?" she asked, tentatively. The next thing she knew, she felt a sharp pain in the back of her head and all went black.

Some time later, Michelle awoke. She was alarmed to notice that she was tied up, and lying on the floor of the cockpit. Loverboy was lying next to her. He still appeared to be unconscious.

Michelle turned her head slightly, trying to ignore the throbbing agony on the back of her skull. She could see Lee sitting in the pilot's seat. They did not appear to have taken off yet. He was talking to someone in a walkie-talkie.

"Yes, sir, we have secured the two subjects you were looking for. Is there any other instructions?"

The walkie-talkie crackled, and a familiar, soothing yet somehow menacing voice boomed in response: "Well, my sources tell me that there are two more pissants that need to be gathered at your present location. There's that pissant, Bilby and his new accomplice Rasta-Dawg, otherwise known as Brice Luther."

Michelle had to suppress a gasp, upon hearing Brice's name.

Lee sighed angrily. "So, our colleague wasn't able to secure Brice's services for us, I take it?"

"Fuck, no! I don't know what's wrong with my faithful servant. That dunderhead even forgot Andrea Warner! His behaviour has gotten more bizarre lately. I may have to arrange for some counselling after this is all over. If you understand my meaning."

"Got it. I'll send Jimbo out to fetch the other two, and then we'll be on our way to Texas. I'll see what I can do to rectify the Warner situation. Our hostages may be willing to help us in that regard...or else, they'll be nothing but a bunch of meat puppets."

"Sounds like a plan! Philly, over and out."

"Roger." Lee shut off the walkie-talkie and lect the cockpit.

Michelle couldn't believe what the fuck was going on. She knew who Lee was speaking to; she knew him very well. She had to get a message to Andrea Warner. But, how?

Hurlyburly - The Continuing Tragic Saga - Chapter 12

"God, I feel good," murmured Alex, as he caressed Philseecopter's door handle. "Thank you so much for that wonderful ride."

"I second that," groaned Munroe. "Philseecopter, you are one hot helicopter. Listen boys, I have to go inside and clean myself up before Ms. Warner gets home. I don't think she would take too kindly to me serving her dinner wearing nothing but a poopy diaper!"

Munroe made his way inside, while Alex and Philsee basked in the sun and relaxed on the roof of the condo. Philseecopter found himself drifting off to sleep, when suddenly he heard a noise that sounded a bit like a rat puking. He opened his eyes and saw that a shadowy figure, wearing a black cloak and smelling a bit like charred fish guts, was holding a rag over Alex's face. Alex was twitching and gagging, and drool was gushing out of his mouth and nose. Philsee saw with horror that the figure was holding two other limp bodies, which looked alarmingly like Seana Mullen and Kate Luther. Philseecopter was appalled.

Before Philsee could say anything, the figure pulled an AK-47 out of the folds of its cloak and pointed it at Philsee's head. "Do as I say if you want to live," the figure hissed, droplets of rank-smelling spit spewing from its gaping maw.

The figure roughly opened Philsee's rear door and shoved the three limp, drooling bodies into Philseecopter's back cargo area. The figure then climbed into Philsee's front seat, rolled down the window, and leaned his torso out so that he could still point the gun at Philsee's head.

"Now, you silly human helicopter," hissed the figure. "Fly to the residence of those pissants Emily Luther and Dave Whiteley."

Philseecopter began to cry. How could this be happening? Who was this horrible shadowy figure and what did he want with them? But he had no choice but to do what the figure asked. He could only hope that Bilby would return from Botswana soon and rescue them. And hopefully he would have that magic wand so that Philsee could finally cease being a helicopter.

When they arrived at Emily and Dave's place, the figure forced Philsee to land on the roof and start calling their names, so that they would come out on the roof. When they appeared, the figure did the same thing he had done to the others - gagged them with chloroform-covered rags and threw them into the back of Philseecopter.

"Now, Philby, or whatever in Sam Hill your name is, copter," hissed the figure. "Fly southeast, towards Texas."

Philseecopter reluctantly did what the figure said. He wondered how long his friends would be unconscious. He was terrified at the thought of where they might be going. He had heard scary things about Texas.

After a couple of hours, when they were flying over northern Idaho, Philsee heard a cracking sound coming from the shadowy figure's pocket.

The figure pulled a walkie talkie out of his pocket and started hissing into it sickeningly. "Masssster?"

"Do you have all the pissants?" boomed a southern-drawled voice from the walkie-talkie.

"Yesss master, I have Seana, Kate, Alex, Emily and Dave, just like you asked," said the figure.

"And Andrea Warner, correct?" asked the voice.

"Bloody fucking hell!!!" yelled the shadowy figure. "I forgot Andrea. I'll have to go back. Jesus Murphy!"

"You can't go back, there's not enough time, you imbecile," boomed the voice, sounding angry. "Our colleague is going to arrive soon with the Botswana contingent. We will just have to proceed with the plan without Ms. Warner. You will pay for this, you idiot."

"Yes master, I am sorry," the figure muttered bitterly.

Hurlyburly - The Continuing Tragic Saga - Chapter 11

Brice Luther sighed as he stared up at the African sky. It was going to be a gorgeous night. That was a good thing,since he dared not return to his teepee on the outskirts of the village of Bobtercock. The villagers were in a fury after what had happened earlier in the afternoon, so he was forced to camp out on the Serengeti. At first, they had been in awe of his actions. He had begun to believe that they would turn against Fructusfornicology. But, within hours, the priestess, Mini-Clit, had poisoned their minds against him. Brice knew that he had the power to kill them all, if he so wished, but he was conflicted about using his powers for mass murder. It went against everything he was taught. Brice knew that he had gone too far this afternoon when Father Ed's chest cavity had exploded, showering his followers with his internal organs. He had been shocked, and then a bit appalled by the result of his incantation. He picked up a stick and poked at the campfire he had lit.

He was a long way from Vancouver. Just six short months ago, Brice worked for Canada Post, as a mailman. He liked his job fine, but he felt as if there was a spiritual void in his heart. One day, he was delivering a package to one of the houses on his route when he ran into a very important man who had been a great influence on his life: his Social Studies teacher, Michel Nault. M. Nault was retired now, and he was greatly pleased to see Brice. He invited Brice out for an evening of kareoke, and they struck up a friendship. They would get together for drinks at Sidebar, or for long walks around Stanley Park. Sometimes, they would just sit on the beach and meditate. They also went into business together, performing magic tricks at birthday parties.

One day, they were sitting on a park bench on Granville Island, feeding the rats, when M. Nault decided to share a secret with him. M. Nault was no ordinary junior high school teacher: he was a shaman. But, he was getting too old to travel the world practising his wizardry. He wanted to pass his knowledge on to Brice. At first, Brice was a little skeptical. He knew very well that M. Nault often told bizarre stories about himself to teach lessons to his students. But, he chose to believe him. Naulty was his best friend and Brice figured that it could be kind of fun to learn a new hobby.

He had to undergo a number of rites before he could be called a true shaman, the most disturbing of which was the ingestion of all bodily fluids, including saliva, snot, urine, feces and semen. He learned how to make and use a magic wand, brew potions and developed his extra-sensory abilities. M. Nault was pleased with how quickly Brice had mastered various shamanic techniques. Finally, he blessed Brice with the name Rasta-Dawg and sent him to Bobtercock about a month ago to put a stop to Fructusfornicology. M. Nault had had a vision that if this so-called religion was allowed to flourish, it would bring on Armageddon. It was to be Brice's first true test as a shaman. At first, Brice wasn't sure how much stock he could put into M. Nault's premonition. Now that he had arrived in Bobtercock, he could see how much sway the leaders of Fructusfornicology held over the townspeople. He wasn't sure exactly how they were doing it, but everyone seemed to obey their every whim, without question.

Brice shook his head and aded some sepecial herbs and spices to a potion he was brewing in a cauldron over the fire. He was hoping to induce a vision of M.Nault, so he could ask for guidance. He scooped some of the potion into a wooden goblet he had carved himself and drank it. He felt dizzy and all went black.

Brice opened his eyes. He was in a lush green meadow full of beautiful flowers. The sun was shining, and the birds were singing. Leprechauns danced around his feet, throwing gold coins into the air. The air was fresh and clean and he breathed deeply.

"Bonjour, Brice," a deep masculine voice starled him. Brice whirled around. It was M. Nault. "You must be vigilant. Things are not what they seem. An important person in your life has turned to the dark side. You must beware. This person will attempt to turn you to the dark side too. You must resist."

"What? Who are you talking about?" Brice was alarmed to see that dark clouds had gathered overhead.

"Whoa, mon etudiant! All I can say is that you have to beware...the end is near. If you are not vigilant, it will be chop-chop!" M. Nault made a swift chopping motion with his left hand, and turned away.

Brice ran up to Naulty and grabbed his shoulder. To his surprise, it wasn't M.Nault at all. It was his father, Brian Luther. "Brian! What are you doing here?"

"Come on, Brice. We have to put an end to all this silliness." Brian clutched Brice's arm. "You've always been the sane one. Your sisters and their friends are running amock! I've been having to put up with their shenanigans for almost 30 years! Do you know what that's done to me? I can't take it anymore! You have to help me! Together, with your powers and my master's superior intellect, we can make everything nice, calm and normal..."

Brice was seriously frightened. He didn't think he had ever seen his father quite so agitated. "Hey, Dad, simmer down. It's all just harmless. At least they make life somewhat interesting. Yes, it's a little disturbing, but it's not like they're mass murderers or something."

Brian let out a piercing screech and pushed Brice away. "They've gotten to you, too! This is psycopathy!!!!!" Brian pulled a flask out of his pocket and took a drink. "You have been a very, very foolish young man. You are one of them. You've been one of them all along. How could you????" Brian screeched again, and disappeared in a puff of purple smoke.

"Dad!!! Wait!!!" Brice screamed. Suddenly, he was no longer in the field. He back on the Serengeti, sitting beside his campfire.

"I'm not your pappy," a gruff voice growled at him, from the other side of the fire. "You Rasta-Dawg?"

Brice rubbed his forehead. He was somewhat disoriented. Was this another part of the vision? "Uh, yeah." he mumbled, sickeningly. "Who are you?"

The man walked right through the fire, and shook Brice's hand. "Name's Bilby. I'm here to get a magic wand from you." He was dressed what looked like a purple and green wetsuit, bright red snow boots and a canary yellow fedora.

"Right. This is a really bad time. I have to get to Vancouver. I think my sister might be in trouble."

"Heck! That's where I'm headed after I get that wand from you. I can give you a lift! Who's your sister?"

"Uh...you probably won't know her. Her name's Emily Luther."

"Emily! 'Course I know Emily! She's friends with my woman! Likes to dress unsuspecting young men up in towels and lipstick!"

Brice rolled his eyes. "Of sourse, you would know her. Look, I can make a wand for you anytime you want. But, I really have to get back to Canada."

Bilby shrugged. "It's ok by me. The sooner I get home to my Andrea, the better."

Brice gathered up his stuff and together, the two men began the long hike to the Bobtercock airport. Brice hoped that his vision didn't mean anything, but Naulty had taught him better than that. He was scared. Very very very scared.

Hurlyburly - The Continuing Tragic Saga - Chapter 10

"Kate, you're filthy!" Seana exclaimed. "But it's good to see you!"

Seana had driven her brand new Jeep out to Abbotsford to meet Kate so that they could try to find out what was going on with Kate's father, Brian. They were having a bite to eat at McDonald's before heading back to Vancouver. Kate's hair looked like a rat's nest and had several live cockroaches crawling in it. Her clothes seemed to be covered in dirt and some sort of purple goo.

"Well it was a rough trip," Kate sighed. "The first part was okay, I made it all the way to Kamloops in the back of a pickup truck, but then he went a different way so I ended up having to skateboard while holding onto the back of a motorcycle."

"Kate, that's pretty dangerous, why didn't you just take the bus?" Seana inquired.

"Are you on crack?" Kate said. "What a fucking waste of money that would have been. Sure I'm dirty but I can clean up, no sweat. But more importantly, how are we going to find Brian? Did you ever get hold of Emily?"

"Yeah, but she hadn't heard from Brian," Seana said. "But I do have a lead, Michelle said that she ran into him at the Sylvia Hotel bar."

"Oh yeah, that's his favourite bar in Vancouver," Kate said. "Maybe we should just go there and hang out until he shows up? I mean, with the amount of scotch he's been drinking lately, he's bound to show up there sooner rather than later."

"That's a great idea," Seana said. "It will give us a chance to have a few drinks and catch up too. We should see if Emily and Dave want to join us."

The two women got into Seana's Jeep and headed out on the highway, back towards Vancouver. Kate pulled about 10 handguns out of various pockets to show Seana she was well-equipped for whatever happened.'

"I found these on the front lawn," Kate explained. "Here, take some, just in case."

Seana put a couple of handguns in her pockets, and stuck one behind each ear. Kate giggled. "That looks awesome!"

Seana put a Sublime CD in the stereo and they both started singing along.

What they didn't notice was the shadowy figure crouching in the back seat of the jeep.

"You pissants think you are soooo smart," the shadowy figure hissed. "Well I'm afraid I am going to have to put a dent in your clever little plan. My master's instructions are very clear."

It pulled a rag covered in chloroform from the folds of its cape, and shoved it in Seana's face, and then Kate's. They both twitched for a few seconds, and thin streams of drool oozed from their mouths, then they lost consciousness. The figure undid their seatbelts and threw their unconscious bodies in the back. Then it got into the driver's seat and took the wheel, narrowly missing a semi coming from the other direction.

THe shadowy figure pulled out its walkie-talkie and turned it on.

"Master? Are you there?" it said.

"Yes, I am, Minion," said a deep, diesmbodied voice with a slight southern drawl. "Have you taken custody of the pissants?"

"Well I've got Kate and Seana, and I am about to go fetch Emily and Dave," said the figure. "I also need to go back to Ms. Warner's residence so I can kidnap her and hijack that ridiculous human helicopter to bring us there."

"Remember, you need to have them all at my ranch in Texas by Friday," said the voice over the walkie-talkie. "That's when our plan will be carried out. Our colleague is going to look after those members of our little group who are currently in Botswana."

"Yes master."

Hurlyburly - The Continuing Tragic Saga - Chapter 9

Billy Bob Thornton (or Bilby, as he preferred to be called) had just arrived in Bobtercock, Botswana. Bilby was a gruff sort of man who liked to keep his emotions well hidden, but an amazing woman named Andrea Warner had changed him. He missed her. After spending a week on ranch in Montana with a bunch of crazed bounty hunters, all he wanted to do was head home to Vancouver and fuck Andrea raw for a week straight. Now, devoted reader, that may seem a bit harsh and it kind of makes Bilby sound like a horrible beast, but we have it on good authority that Andrea likes rough sex, so in that respect, Bilby is really a caring and sensitive lover.

Instead, Bilby was stuck in Bobtercock, looking for a shaman who could replace the magic wand he had lost. Bilby felt quite badly about the whole thing. If he had been a bit more responsible, his best friend wouldn't now be a whiny helicopter. He had to fix this problem. It's hard to believe, but magic wands are hard to come by. A fellow bounty hunter had given the name of a shaman who could help him out: Rasta-dawg. Yes, Rasta-dawg. Bilby thought it was a weird name for a shaman, but at least it was distinctive and hard to forget. Bilby was curious about this Rasta-dawg. He hoped that he would be easy to find.

He approached a group of villagers, who were hanging out in front of a building. As Bilby approached, he noticed that the buiding was constructed completely out of fruit. A woman, dressed in flourescent green robes stood in the middle of the throng, clutching a picture of a man to her ample bosum. She had tears streaming down he face, and she was singing a beautiful hymn.

"In the name of the father,
In the name of the son,
In the name of the Holy Ghost,
And the lost ones...
We pray for salvation,
We pray for God's son,
We pray for forgiveness,
for the damage we've done,
A prayer for all!"

Bilby cleared his throat. The woman abruptly stopped singing. Everyone turned and stared at him.

"Um, sorry to interrupt, but I'm looking for someone. A shaman, in fact. Goes by the name Rasta- dawg." Bilby was startled when everyone gasped.

The woman glared at him furiously. "That man you're looking for is a murderer! He killed our leader, while he was performing his duty to the Holy Papyus!"

Bilby held up his hands. "Whoa, there, freaks. I'm not looking for any trouble. I just need to know where this Rasta-fella is. I don't know if he's a murderer or not. I just need to get something from him."

The woman pointed at Bilby, dramatically. "Seize him!!! He is in league with that filthy Rasta-dawg! He's a murderer, too! Sister Mini-Clit!!!"

Bilby hesitated a moment. Sister Mini-Clit? She was still alive? His sources had told him that Mini-Clit and that priest Father Ed had died in a horrible helicopter accident, when the rotary blades had somehow chopped off their heads. But, he didn't have time to think of that, now. He had to get away from these zealots.

"Bilby Power activate!" He screamed, and he began spinning around and around. Within seconds, Bilby could not be seen by the townspeople, as he had turned into a powerful lime green tornado. Tornado Bilby whirled away from the fruity church. Some of the villagers began throwing rocks at him, but he easily dispatched them by throwing some colourful jack-o-lanterns at them until they gave up. Bilby twirled away to a safe distance, and stopped spinning. "Bilby power de-activate," he mumbled. He still needed to find this Rasta-dawg guy, but it looked like he wouldn't get much help from the villagers.

Hurlyburly - The Continuing Tragic Saga - Chapter 8

"I look fucking hot."

Alex MacDougall was in the back of his bright yellow vintage motorhome, appraising his appearance in a full-length mirror. His long black hair was artfully woven into a french braid, with the bangs curled 80s style, and he had expertly applied blue mascara and eyeshadow to emphasize his gorgeous blue eyes. Shiny pink lipstick accentuated his sultry lips.

He finished doing up a frilly white blouse, and then went to get the piece that would perfectly finish the outfit. It was a deluxe bright blue bath towel that he had bought specially for this occasion. He wrapped it around his lean waist, after thouroughly greasing his dick with garlic butter. He had learned from experience that it not only lubricated, but also accentuated the flavour of fresh penis. Of course, he wore no underwear under the towel.

Satisfied with his appearance, Alex climbed into the front seat of the RV and started driving towards the West End condo Andrea Warner shared with Billy Bob Thornton.

Alex had known Andrea for years, and he had always been attracted to her, but in the past week or so, for some reason, the attraction had turned into a lustful obsession. He knew she was in a relationship with Billy Bob Thornton, and he had no intention of taking her away from him. On the contrary, he had heard that Billy Bob was quite sexually liberated, and he was hoping for a threesome.

Alex parked the motorhome in front of the building, and to help with his courage, he pulled a bottle of absinthe out of the glove compartment and took a swig. He got out of the vehicle and brought the bottle with him. He figured Andrea and Billy Bob might want some too. It would definitely enhance the threesome experience.

Alex pressed the buzzer and was pleasantly surprised to be let in immediately. When he got up to the top floor, he knocked on the door. When it opened, he saw a man in his mid-60s or so, completely naked except for a baby bonnet on his head and a skimpy diaper around his groin area. He had a baby's soother in his mouth.

"Awe you my mommy?" said the man in a babyish voice tinged with a British accent.

Alex was at first intrigued, and then a bit alarmed.

"Um, I'm sorry, sir, I must have the wrong apartment," Alex muttered. "I'll just be going now."

"You're not from the escort agency?" the man had stopped talking in the baby voice and was now speaking in a very prestigious British accent. "I asked for a drag queen to pretend to be my mommy. What the hell?"

"Um, no, I'm afraid I was looking for Andrea Warner," Alex said. He noticed with alarm that there was a substantial erection propping up the front of the diaper.

"I'm so sorry, I am Ms. Warner and Master Bilby's butler, Munroe. Please wait here and I will change into my proper attire. I was not expecting anyone except for my escort."

"Don't worry about it, Munroe," Alex said good-naturedly. "I kind of like the outfit you're wearing. But does that mean Andrea's not home?"

"I'm afraid not," Munroe said. "They left about an hour ago for the airport, they are going to Botswana. The only person here is Master Philseecopter, and he is on the roof, of course. In fact, I should probably go up there and make sure he's doing okay. Would you like to come with me?"

"Philseecopter? Who is Philseecopter?" Alex asked.

"Oh, you don't know about Philsee?" Munroe said tentatively. "Well, you've heard of the actor Philip Seymour Hoffman, I presume?"

"Fuckin' A! You have a helicopter made to look like Philip Seymour Hoffman?" Alex screamed. "That is awesome!"

"Uh, it's not made to look like him, it, well...it is him," Munroe said.

"Hein?" Alex was confused.

"Come up and see for yourself," Munroe said.

When they got up on the roof, Alex was amazed at the gorgeous view. And when he saw what was up there, he was even more amazed. Munroe hadn't been lying. It was Philip Seymour Hoffman, and he was a helicopter.

"Thank god, Munroe, I was getting sooooo bored," Philseecopter said. "Did you wear that outfit for me? That's pretty hot. And who is this fine specimen?"

"Hi there Philsee, my name is Alex MacDougall," Alex said seductively, staring into Philsee's eyes. "I'm, uh, a friend of Andrea's. It's very, very nice to meet you!"

Alex and Philseecopter stared at each other for another minute or so.

"Oh where are my manners!" Philseecopter finally said. "I was just so entranced by your beautiful blue eyes and that dazzling outfit. Would you like to go for a ride Alex? And I mean that in more ways than one."

"I would love to!" Alex screamed. "I've always wanted to fuck in a helicopter over the North Shore mountains. Now I can do both at once!"

"Hop in," Philseecopter said seductively.

Alex pulled the bottle of absinthe out of his blouse's breast pocket. "How about some of this before we take off?"

"Hell yes Alex, bring that over here!" Philseecopter said.

Alex sauntered up to Philseecopter's head, and started dumping the absinthe down the helicopter's gullet. Then Alex got an even better idea. He bent over, inserted the absinthe bottle into his anus, filled his anal cavity with the liquor, then put his anal opening up to Philsee's mouth. Philsee moaned in pleasure as he drank down the firey liquid.

"Okay, I can't take it anymore," Philseecopte said after a few minutes of this. "Get into my body right now so I can take you for the ride of your life."

"Hey, can I come too?" Munroe asked shyly, reverting back into the baby voice. "My escort never showed up and I'm horny as hell. I piddled, and I need someone to change my diaper!"

"It's fine with me if it's fine with Alex," Philseecopter said.

"Sure, why the hell not," said Alex.

"Well then both of you hop in, whip out your pee pees and get ready for the best and most scenic sex you've ever had!" Philseecopter yelled. "Eat your heart out, Greg."

Alex felt a shiver of arousal as he climed inside of Philseecopter. Hell, he thought to himself. It definitely wasn't the threesome he had been expecting, but it would be a threesome to remember nonetheless.

Hurlyburly - The Continuing Tragic Saga - Chapter 7

The sun was hot. Father Ed (the priest formerly known as Eeeeeeeddddddddd Waaalllaaaccceee!) was standing waist-deep in the Jambalaya River, just outside of the town of Bobtercock, in Botswana. Before him, a crowd of people dressed in bright pink robes with their heads shaved into mohawks stood on the shore. They were waiting in silence for him to speak. It was nearly noon, almost time for the baptismal ceremony to begin. He sighed impatiently. His priestess, Sister Mini-Clit was late. And she knew that he couldn't very well start without her. After all, she played an integral part in the ancient ceremony. Well, it wasn't so ancient a ceremony. He had only invented it two months ago.

In fact, he had made up the entire religion after getting kicked out of the Catholic Church for engaging in sexual intercourse with Mini-Clit. He had tried to tell the pope that their fornication was simply an act of charity, designed to raise Mini-Clit's self-esteem. She was very self-conscious about the size of her clitoris and he wanted to prove to her that her clit wasn't as small as she thought it was. The pope did not see it that way. So, in retaliation, Father Ed came up with Fructusfornicology. The religion was centered around the worship of a trifecta of delicious tropical fruits. Most important was the god Pineappleocoles and his wife, the goddess Guavaopolous. He had also introduced a figure known as the Holy Papayus, a spirit that tracked its followers misdeeds, and sent them to the Compost Heap if they sinned too much.

Botswana was the ideal place to test out his new religion and Father Ed was shocked (but not appalled) by how popular it was becoming. He had heard that some Hollywood celebrities had expressed an interest in practicing Fructusfornicology. At first, he wanted nothing to do with those heathens. But, Mini-Clit had convinced him that their involvement could only help quicken the spread of their gospel. Hell, he could even use it to take over the world. That Mini-Clit was such a wise woman. She had even invented a penile implant that, if surgically implanted in the right subject, would act as an aphrodisiac. Men and women alike would fall under the spell of the implant, and become very susceptible to suggestion. They had already recruited a prominent Canadian celebrity to act as a test subject, and so far, the results had been very promising. If they implanted enough of these devices in a large enough number of penises, the whole world could soon fall under the spell of Fructusfornicology.

Father Ed's eyes narrowed as he spotted a strange figure approaching his followers. It was a man. He was tall, with a lean, but muscular frame and long brownish-blond dredlocks. He was wearing a bizarre outfit, consisting of a loincloth, a fluorescent green tank top, with a picture of Siegfried and Roy on the front of it and a purple polka-dotted bow-tie. The man looked vaguely familiar, but Father Ed couldn't fathom where he would have seen such a bizarre figure before.

"Halt!!!" Father Ed yelled out to him. The figure abruptly halted and turned to face him. "Identify yourself!" Father Ed's followers all turned toward the man, and to his surprise, they all threw themselves on the ground before the man, chanting in an indescribable language.

The man glared at Father Ed with contempt. "You are an infidel. You seek to turn these good people away from their ancient ways, to follow you, a false prophet."

Father Ed was stunned. "This is the true path, and these people know it. They're my followers, not yours. And, you're not from around here, anyways. Go back to Vegas with your fancy ways, Siegfried!"

"That was a mistake. I am a shaman, sworn to protect these people. Now, you will taste the fury of the ancestors." The shaman pulled a magic wand out of his pocket and pointed it at Father Ed. "Heiudefn Koveroiuvc."

Before Father Ed had time to react, a bright orange beam of light shot from the wand and hit him in the chest. "NOOOOOO!!! Avenge me, Mini-Clit!!!!" he screamed out as the searing beam ripped open his chest cavity.

Father Ed's last conscious thought was of how the shaman reminded him of Emily's Luther's brother, Brice.

All went black.

Hurlyburly - The Continuing Tragic Saga - Chapter 6

"Mmmmmm, Loverboy, that feels sooo good!"

Michelle was in heaven. She was lying naked in the bathtub of the luxurious suite Loverboy had rented for them in the Sylvia Hotel. From the tub she could see a gorgeous view of English Bay and the North Shore Mountains. Loverboy was rubbing a silky smooth yet pungent-smelling concoction all over her body.

"What is that you're rubbing on me, my king?" Michelle asked, groaning in pleasure.

"It's a mixture of margarine, pot-pourri, and ostrich vomit," Loverboy said. "It's very good for the skin." He was naked except for a red ring of leather around the base of his penis and balls.

"Loverboy, that's grotesque!" Michelle yelled at the top of her lungs as she stood up abruptly. "You're rubbing puke into my skin? Jesus fucking Christ, what's wrong with you!"

She pushed him out of the bathroom and turned on the shower. Trying not to cry, she vigorously washed the mixture off her skin. She stayed in the shower for a while, trying to decide what to do. She was deeply infatuated with Loverboy, and yet at the moment the thought of him disgusted her.

When she finally went back out into the suite, she saw him staring out the window wistfully. He turned to face her with a sad look on his face. "My dear, dear goddess of grapefruits," he whispered. "I am sorry if I offended thee. I should have told you what the mixture was. I learned it from a shaman friend of mine in Botswana."

"Look Loverboy, I am sure you meant well," Michelle said coldly. "I just need some space right now okay? I am going to go down to the hotel bar and have a drink."

Tears started running down Loverboy's face as he rubbed the sheath of leather back and forth on his limp penis. "I'll make it up to you somehow, my princess of pineapples."

Michelle got dressed and went downstairs to the bar. She ordered a Monkey's Lunch from the bartender and went to find a table. There was only one other person in the bar, a man in his 50s who looked vaguely familiar. He was sitting alone at a table gulping down a bottle of scotch.

"Brian, is that you?" Michelle asked.

Brian Luther abruptly looked up and when he saw Michelle, he appeared at first startled, and then a bit angry. When he finally recognized her, a thin smile appeared. "Why Michelle Gatien, I certainly didn't expect to see you here!"

"I didn't know you were in Vancouver, Brian!" Michelle said. "That's wonderful, you are such an amazing man! Does Emily know about this?"

"Well, I'm afraid not," Brian said. "I, uh, well, I'm here on business, and I don't really have time for socializing. Now if you don't mind, I have some things to take care of."

Brian abruptly got up and ran out of the bar, taking the bottle of scotch with him. Michelle was confused, and slightly appalled. Emily's father was usually such a friendly man. He had acted very suspicious, as if he was hiding something.

"Oh well," Michelle thought. She looked out the window and watched as some roller bladers rode by on the seawall. She sipped her drink mournfully, wondering what to do about Loverboy. She supposed she should be more open-minded about the strange mixture. If it was from Botswana, it was probably legitimate.

Suddenly, a hand holding a purple envelope appeared in front of her face. "A surprise for you, my queen of quiche," murmured Loverboy as he sat down beside her. "Perhaps this will make up for my faux pas in the bathtub."

Michelle opened the envelope and saw two Air Canada tickets to the town of Bobtercock, Botswana. "The plane leaves tonight," Loverboy said with a smile. "It will be the most romantic time of your life. Let's go up and get you packed."

Hurlyburly - The Continuing Tragic Saga - Chapter 5

"Well, this certainly bizarre."

Seana Mullen closed her cell phone. She had just received a disturbing message on her voicemail from Kate Luther, Emily's younger sister. The message was garbled, as if Kate was calling her from from the back of a pickup truck going 120 km down the TransCanada Highway. The jist of the message was that Kate's father, Brian Luther, was missing and that Kate was on her way to Vancouver. Kate couldn't get hold of Emily, so she wanted Seana to meet her in Abbotsford, early the next morning.

"What's bizarre?" Seana jumped slightly. Her boyfriend, Lee had mysteriously appeared behind her.

"Oh! I didn't know you were home." Lee was a pilot for Air Canada. She was used to him not being around very much. "Kate just left a highly disturbing message on my voicemail. Apparently, Brian E. Luther, Chartered Accountant, is missing."

Lee rolled his eyes. "Oh no. I've had enough of hearing about your crazy friends and their weird adventures."

Seana was shocked and somewhat appalled by his attitude. "What do you mean? This is a very serious situation!"

"Well, ever since we moved out to Vancouver, strange events keep unfolding. And your friends are a bunch of freaks. I mean, bounty hunters, superheroes, crazed movie stars, rapstar bodyguards, gay men with tennis racket fettishes and most appalling of all, a human helicopter!!! I mean, come on! Don't you find all of this to be a bit strange?" Lee wandered over to the bookcase. "I think it's time for drastic action." He pulled a thick volume down from the top shelf.

Seana's jaw dropped in alarm as she saw the title of the scariest book she had ever seen in her life. It was Dr. Phil's Relationship Rescue. Lee was a big fan of Dr. Phil, but he only referred to THE BOOK when things were desperate.

"Let's see what Dr. Phil has to say about this..."

Seana snorted. "As if that idiot has anything to say about our relationship."

"Well, actually, there is a chapter on this very type of situation..." Lee wasd silent as he skimmed the chapter. "Yes, my dear, this is what you would call a deal-breaker."

"What the hell are you talking about?!" Seana couldn't believe that he was serious. She had given him that book a few years ago, as a joke. She was alarmed to see him referring to it as if it were some sort of gospel.

Lee sighed. "I have to get back to work tonight. I have a flight to Botswana and back. I will return in a few days. Upon my return, I think it would be a good idea if we went to see Dr.Phil. And I must insist that your pack of weirdoes join us. If anyone has the answer to this psycopathy, it's Philly." Lee closed the book and returned it carefully to the bookshelf.

For once in her life, Seana was speechless. Lee was usually quite tolerant of her shenanigans. Could this be the end of their relationship?

Her thoughts were interrupted by the appearance of a jolly man in a chef's uniform, carrying a large platter of cooked cow carcass. "Who wants some...MEAT?????"

"Hi Dave." Seana said. She wasn't surprised to see him. The movie business in Vancouver was quite slow right now, so Dave often amused himself by popping over to his friends' homes and cooking them large quantities of meat.

"Hey, why'do you two look so cobby? Chef Dave is in the house, and there's lots of MEAT to EAT!!!"

Lee gave Seana a meaningful look. "This type of silliness is exactly what I was talking about. Soon, you will see that I'm not the only one who feels this way." He took a large piece of filet mignon from the platter Dave was holding, and took a bite. "I gotta go get ready for work. See you in a few days. Bye Dave." Lee went into the bedroom.

Seana sighed and lit a cigarette. Sometimes Lee was too uptight for his own good. So what if her friends were a little weird? At least they knew how to have fun!

Dave thrust the plate of carcass under her nose. "EAT!!!" he commanded.

Seana took a shiskabob, and began to thoughtfully munch on it.

"What's got Lingaloo's panties in a knot?" Dave demanded.

"Dunno. Mmmm. This is delicious. You are a true wizard with a barbreque and cow carcass."

"Thank you!" Dave beamed. "I'm going over to Warner's house. Wanna come with me? I'm going to set up a fire pit on the roof and roast a warthog."

"Sounds like fun." Seana took the platter of MEAT from Dave and put it in the fridge, and they left.

After the door shut, a shadowy figure stealthily emerged from the closet. "Meat!!!!!!" he hissed. It had been hours since he had last feasted. The sinister figure opened the fridge and pulled out the plate of freshly cooked carcass. He caressed the chunks of meat lovingly before finally opening its mouth and tipping the contents of the platter into it's gaping maw. He swallowed the meat in one gulp. "Meat good!" he hissed before scampering out onto the balcony. He perched on the railing of the balcony for a few seconds before slithering down the side of the building and disappearing into the night.

Hurlyburly - The Continuing Tragic Saga - Chapter 4

Chapter 4

"Hey Jan, how's Mexico?" Kate Luther asked into her cell phone as she rode the bus towards the University of Alberta. Her father, Brian, and her stepmother, Jan, had left Edmonton a few days earlier for some fun in the sun at an all-inclusive adult swingers resort. Kate wanted to see how their trip was going, but she also wanted to check on Brian to make sure he wasn't drinking too much. He had really gotten into the scotch lately. She had called them on Jan's cell phone so that she could ask her about it.

"Mexico?" Jan asked in her prestigious British accent. "Kate, have you been smoking marijuana again? What in Sam Hill are you talking about?"

"Um, I think you must be the one smoking marijuana Jan," Kate said, giggling. "I'm asking how your trip to Mexico is going!"

"Kate, seriously. Don't play silly bugger. What makes you think I'm in Mexico?"

"Well you're not here, you and Dad left a few days ago for Mexico, didn't you?" Kate asked, getting worried now.

"Where did you get that from?" Jan asked. "I'm in Las Vegas with Maureen! She's looking for a new man. Look, this is bollocks, I don't have time for this. I'm completely knackered after gambling and drinking and groping male strippers all day."

Maureen was Jan's sister, and she was a bit of a wild woman. She enjoyed carousing and picking up men. Kate could only imagine what the two of them would get up to in Vegas.

"Are you serious Jan?" Kate asked. "If you're in Las Vegas, then where the hell is Brian? I was by the house the other night at like midnight, and his car was gone. The house was completely empty."

"Really?" Jan asked. "Well that's disturbing. I wonder where he went. He has been acting a little weird lately, he's been drinking about a bottle of scotch a day. Maybe you should go over to the house and see if there are any clues as to his whereabouts. He probably just went on a little adventure. But I don't know why he would lie to you about Mexico."

"Okay, I'll go over and take a look," Kate sighed.

They hung up and Kate decided to skip school and head out to St. Albert, a suburb of Edmonton, where her parents' house was. She had to get to the bottom of this. She hopped out of the moving bus and landed on the roof of a Honda Accord going the opposite way. The Honda seemed to be headed towards St. Albert Trail. She sat and relaxed on the roof, and pulled a history textbook out of her pocket to do some reading on the trip.

When she got to the house, she noticed a few things she had not seen when she was there in the middle of the night. Brian's BMW was still gone from the driveway, but there was a bunch of purple tinsel-like debris all over the driveway, and at least 10 differently-sized handguns littered on the lawn. Kate was appalled.

She gathered up the guns and entered the house. In the front entranceway, there was tons of paper littered all over the ground. Much of it was covered with Brian's handwriting, but Kate could not read it because his handwriting was very bizarrely shaped. Most of the paper was also covered in a strange purple goo the texture of snot.

Then she noticed something interesting. There was a map of Canada taped up on the wall, and someone had highlighted the route from Edmonton to Vancouver. Kate wondered if that was where he had gone. Her older sister Emily lived there. Her brother Brice lived there part time as well, although at the moment he was in Botswana training to be a shaman.

Kate figured she needed to investigate this further. She left the house, skateboarded down to St. Albert trail and looked for a car going in the direction of the Yellowhead Trail, which would take her west, towards Vancouver.

Hurlyburly - The Continuing Tragic Saga - Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Andrea Warner was sitting on the deck of Bilby’s penthouse, enjoying the spectacular view of Stanley Park. The penthouse was quite lavish and took up the entire top floor of a high-rise condominium complex. They had bought it specifically because there was a helipad on the roof. She was happier than she had been in a very long time. Bilby was so kind and loving. And sexy. Their relationship was humming along smoothly, which was a nice change from her previous love affair.

Andrea had had a brief dalliance with Tom Cruise, a dalliance of doom. Tom had drugged her and tried to forcibly convert her to Scientology. She shuddered at the memory. Tom was now married to her good friend Hoagie and they lived on the exclusively homosexual island of Aborigene (which was turning into to quite the popular hotspot). Tom had undergone intensive deprogramming, and Andrea had forgiven him for his horrible actions, but there were times when his crazed, sharklike grin haunted her in her dreams.

She wished that Bilby were back from his Bounty Hunter Conference and Jamboree in Montana. She was drifting into a fantasy about Bilby’s long dong and what sexual tricks she would be able to play on it when she was interrupted by the sound of a helicopter landing a few feet away.

“Andrea!!!” Philseecopter wailed. “Is Bilby back yet?”

Andrea swallowed her irritation. Even though Philsee’s whining was often unbearable, she had to keep in mind that it must be difficult to be a human helicopter. “No, Philsee. He’ll be back on Friday.”

“Oh. I wish he would get back soon…I hate being a helicopter!” Suddenly, Philseecopter burst into tears. Andrea dashed out of the way before she got drenched. “I’m losing Greg! I can’t satisfy him, sexually. And I saw him with his head buried in a stranger’s lap earlier!!!!”

Philsee told her how he had been flying around the city, because he had nothing else to do when he had seen Greg performing an unspeakable action on the lead singer from Loverboy. “And, Greggy knows that’s my favourite band! How could he?”

Andrea awkwardly patted Philseecopter’s metal side. “Well, maybe you misread the situation. Greg’s usually a very patient man. And Bilby was going to see about getting a new magic wand from a shaman in Botswana. Cheer up, buckaroo! How about I feed you some ice cream.”

“Oh, Andrea, you always know how to make me feel better!” Philseecopter sniffled. “Everybody’s working for the weekend, everybody wants a new romance,” Philseecopter began pathetically singing to himself “everybody’s going off the deep end…OOOOOHHHHHH, GREG!!!!”

The situation was becoming much too pathetic, so Andrea went to the kitchen and ordered Munroe, Bilby’s butler, to pull a giant bucket of ice cream out of the walk-in freezer. As she waited for Munroe to load the ice cream onto a dolly, she glanced out the window. Far below, she noticed a strange, shadowy figure scampering across the front lawn of the condo. He seemed to be engaged in some sort of interpretive dance to music that only he could hear. It was not unusual to see a lot of freaks wandering around this area, but for some reason, this sighting unsettled her.

“Miss Warner, the ice cream is ready to be transported to Master Philseeccopter.” Munroe’s clipped British accent distracted her from the shadowy figure’s bizarre, but entrancing dance.

“Thank you, Munroe.” Andrea pulled a garden shovel out of her pocket. Before leaving the kitchen, she glanced outside. To her dismay, the dancing freak was gone.

“AAAAAnnnnnnndddddrrrrreeeeaaaaaaaa!!!!!” Philseecopter was whining again.

“Coming, you big baby!” Andrea shouted and made her way to comfort the helicopter.

Hurlyburly - The Continuing Tragic Saga - Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Greg Polakoff was annoyed, and slightly appalled.

He was starting to realize he would have to break up with his beautiful boyfriend, and the thought depressed him. He had been dating Philip Seymour Hoffman for about 3 months now, and it had gone well in a lot of ways. The problem was the sex.

You see, gentle reader, Philip and Greg had met during a dramatic rescue of one of Greg's best friends, Andrea Warner. During the rescue, Philip's partner, Billy Bob Thornton, had pulled out a magic wand and turned Philip into a helicopter so that they could escape a yacht that was about to explode. Which was fine, but during all the drama, Billy Bob had somehow misplaced the magic wand. So unfortunately, Philsee was now a helicopter permanently.

Greg had tried to make it work. At first he was overjoyed that Philsee had picked him over his best friend, Mikey, who had also been extremely interested in Philsee. Apparently Philsee was uncomfortable with Mikey's unusual habit of slapping his penis with a tennis racket when the mood struck him.

Greg and Philsee had had a lot of fun together in the beginning. Philsee had taken him on scenic rides over the coast mountains, and sometimes longer trips, like to visit Hoagie on the beautiful, exclusively homosexual island of Aborigene.

They just couldn't get the sexual aspect to work. The main problem was that Philsee was really just a helicopter with a head. He didn't have much feeling in his interior. He could give Greg blowjobs, or Greg could rub his tallywhacker on Philsee's seats or steering wheel, but Philsee always just ended up getting frustrated because he could not really experience true pleasure. Eventually it got so that Philseecopter didn't want sex at all. And that was something Greg couldn't handle.

He was thinking about all this while walking down the street to meet his friend Emily. They were meeting for a drink at the Fountainhead, a quaint neighbourhood gay bar on Davie Street. He figured he would ask Emily for some advice on how to end it with Philsee. He felt so bad for Philsee; the guy would probably have a hard time finding another boyfriend, since he was a helicopter. Not many guys would be that accepting.

As he walked towards the bar, he saw Emily sitting on the patio, but she was not alone. She had with her a woman and a man Greg had never seen before. There was something about the man that intrigued him right away. It may have been his lustrous afro or the bright pink comb he was using to comb it.

"Hey Greg!" Emily called. He walked over and sat with them.

"Who are your friends?" Greg said seductively, looking at the sensual, charismatic afro-man. He noticed that the man was wearing red leather pants, and the crotch area of the pants seemed to be throbbing, becoming a brighter shade of red with each throb. It was hypnotizing.

"This is my friend Michelle, we went to high school together," Emily said.

"I don't give a shit about the snatch, who is this king I see before me?" Greg yelled. "Is it the Greek God Testocoles?"

"That's my boyfriend, Loverboy!" Michelle said protectively.

"Don't be a rude Gus, Greg," Emily warned.

"Loverboy? As in, 'Everybody's workin' for the weekend' Loverboy?" Greg said, eyeing Loverboy's magically throbbing crotch again.

"That's the one," Loverboy said smugly.

At that point, a thin, cloudy stream of drool exited the right corner of Greg's mouth and landed on Loverboy's right leg. Greg was making a noise that sounded a bit like a crazed hyena. He dropped to his knees and started licking his own drool off Loverboy's pants.

Emily had a flashback to when Greg and Mikey had first met Philsee. She was just glad that Mikey wasn't there with his tennis racket.

"Just what do you think you're doing!?" Michelle yelled, standing up. She pulled a hockey stick out of her pocket and was about to hit Greg over the head with it.

"Simmer down, all of you!" Emily yelled. "You're all out of control! Can't we just have a beer without this ridiculous behavior?"

Michelle and Greg both looked sheepish. "Sorry sorry sorry," Greg muttered under his breath as he got up of his knees. Michelle reluctantly put the hockey stick back in her pocket. She was still eyeing Greg suspiciously.

In the window of the Subway restaurant across the street, a shadowy figure watched the action at the Fountainhead with a smirk on his face. He was wolfing down a meatball sub menacingly, and he mumbled to himself as tomato sauce dripped down his chin.

"You may have put a temporary stop to the trouble, my sweet," He screeched. "But what you don't know is that the trouble is only beginning."

Hurlyburly - The Continuing Tragic Saga - Chapter 1

Gentle Readers, if you enjoyed The Tragic Story of THE Andrea Warner, you will simply love the sequel, Hurlyburly. Find out what happens in the lives of the compelling characters you have grown to know and love, and meet some new and intriguing ones too. We will be revealing one chapter at a time, so try to contain your suspense. Here is Chapter 1 for your reading pleasure.

Chapter 1

Michelle Gatien was walking down Granville Street, when she saw him. She couldn’t believe her eyes. He was the sexiest being she had ever seen in her life. He was wearing an unusual outfit, but that only enhanced his appeal. Although he was in his late forties and was slightly rotund, his figure was definitely flattered by the skin-tight red leather pants he wore. His silky black shirt was partially unbuttoned, revealing a sparkly gold and diamond chain, slightly buried in his chest fur. His curly brown hair was styled in an afroesque fashion, and a bright red sweatband strategically placed on his forehead completed the look. Their eyes met, and Michelle’s body convulsed with a jolt of electricity. She found herself walking towards him. She didn’t make a habit of just walking up to strange men on the street, but she found she had no control over herself. It was as if the man had a giant magnet in his pocket: a magnet of lust that drew her closer and closer to him. Before she could completely process what was happening, she was standing before him. They stood facing each other less than a foot apart in the crowded street. Say something! She urged herself. If she didn’t act quickly, the moment would be lost forever!

“Hi, I’m Michelle.” She breathed in awe.

The man smiled. “Hello, Michelle. My name’s Mike, but you can call me Loverboy.” He took her hand in his and raised it to his lips.

Michelle swooned. No one had ever kissed her hand quite like that before. In fact, no one had kissed her hand ever before!

“Come, let us have a coffee and get to know each other.” Loverboy led her to a nearby Starbucks.

Michelle couldn’t believe what was happening to her. She had come to Vancouver for a job interview with Gorply Cable Systems and to visit her old friend, Emily Luther. She never imagined that she would find her destiny in the form of a man wearing red leather pants. The rain poured down, but Michelle barely noticed.

“I would LOVE to!” she exclaimed, a little more forcefully than she meant to.

Loverboy only smiled at her exuberance. “I’m glad.” He said simply, taking Michelle’s hand in his. Together, they walked into the Starbucks and began a new chapter of their lives.

Unbeknownst to the new lovers, a shadowy figure was watching them from a sex shop window across the street. A cackling noise emanated from the figure’s pocket. A couple of sleazy old men searching for lumber fetish porn, looked up at the shadowy figure. The figure swore and turned away, pulling a walkie-talkie out of its pocket.

“Is the plan in motion?” a disembodied voice demanded.

“Yes, it is master.” The shadowy figure breathed into the talkie.

“Excellent. Return to my lair at once. We have much to discuss.”

“Roger,” the figure hissed and turned off the walkie-talkie. The figure slithered unnoticed from the sex shop and began walking down the street at a brisk pace. It passed the window where Michelle and Loverboy were laughing over their Frappuccinos. The figure hissed at them as it passed. Laugh all you want. Enjoy it while you can. Soon, your laughter will be stifled FOREVER!!! The figure cackled to itself maniacally as it walked down the street, ignoring the frightened looks it generated from passersby. They were mere pissants. Soon they would realize their own insignificance.

The Tragic Story of THE Andrea Warner

By popular demand, we give you the complete text of our most recent novella, "The Tragic Story of THE Andrea Warner".

* Any resemblance to actual folks, living or dead, are purely coincidental. And if there happens to be a teeny tiny similarity, just remember that this is all in good fun!!! Emily did the odd-numbered chapters, Seana did the even ones.



Chapter 1

Andrea Warner was ecstatic.

In fact, as she drove down the rainy Vancouver Island highway, she thought to herself that this was probably the happiest she had ever been in her life. It didn't even bother her that some idiot tourist on the ferry had talked her ear off for an hour about how fucked up it was that the city of Vancouver wasn't located on Vancouver Island.

The plan was working out perfectly. Her friends and family all thought she was coming to Victoria to start a new and fabulous job doing PR for a chain of Mexican restaurants called Paco's Phallus (so named because the owners were capitalizing on the natural penis-like shape of their burritos and tacos). Everyone was a little disappointed that it meant the end of Roger Magazine, the successful magazine she had started two years earlier with her old friends Seana Mullen and Emily Luther. But she had given her friends generous severance packages, and she had made the job offer at Paco's Phallus sound like such an amazing opportunity that no one could really fault her for taking it.

Even Emily and Seana did not know the real reason she was in Victoria, and Andrea planned to keep it that way. So much could go wrong if they found out the truth, the least of which would be their disappointment in knowing she had given up her magazine, her home, essentially her life, for a man. The fact that the man was in a serious relationship added more complications, of course. But for once in her life Andrea didn't care about the morality of the situation.

She had just gotten off the ferry and was on her way to see him in the secret lair he owned in the basement of the Empress Hotel, and she could barely contain her excitement. Her panties were getting wet just at the thought of what they would do that night. They still had not consummated their love; he was a man who believed in waiting until the right moment, a man who had to be careful and discreet, but she knew that tonight was the night. The night she would finally see and worship his amazing and luminous penis.

Andrea decided to have her own private celebration in the car. Hell, why not, she thought to herself. This was the best day of her life. She pulled a bottle of red wine out of her pocket and opened the bottle with expert technique. She grabbed a wine glass out of the glove compartment and poured herself a generous glass.

"To us," she said aloud. "To me and the love of my life, to me and the man whose children I will bear and whose beautiful dick will be the central focus of my life. Tom, ohhhh, Tom."

And with that, she emptied the glass in one gulp.

About 20 minutes later she arrived at the hotel. Her sexual excitement had been increasing for the entire drive, and that, in combination with the wine, had caused her face to flush in a very flattering way. After she had gotten a parking spot, she spent about half an hour doing her hair and makeup in the rearview mirror. She was already wearing a black silk evening gown, which was low cut and revealed the tops of her luscious jugs. Once her adjustments were complete she pulled a full-length mirror out of the trunk and contemplated her appearance. There was no doubt she was a beautiful woman even without the extra effort, but at the moment she looked so deliciously sexy that no man or woman could have resisted her.

One more finishing touch, she thought. She lifted her gown and inserted a well-manicured finger into her vagina, then removed it and dabbed some of the ample moisture on her neck and cleavage. It was a trick she had learned that made her even more irresistible to men and women.

She made her way to the side of the hotel, where she removed the key to the secret door that led to his lair. The door appeared to be nothing more than a janitor's entrance, which was perfect for keeping the lair secret. It opened onto a staircase going down 3 stories into a secret basement that no one knew about. Not even the hotel owners knew it was there, as Tom had had it built at night when no one was looking.

When Andrea reached the bottom of the stairs, her heart was pounding so hard that she almost thought she might faint. She knocked at the door, and waited in breathless anticipation.

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

Andrea jumped. She was startled, and then a bit appalled. The voice was not Tom's.

"Gita? Is that you?"

"Yeah, it is, bitch," Gita shouted. The short, butch lesbian, whom Andrea had known for years, was wearing what looked like a military uniform. It was quite flattering. "I said what the hell are you doing here, Cuntrag?" Gita repeated.

"I'm here to meet Tom, okay?" Andrea said angrily. "I think a better question would be what the hell are you doing in his lair?"

"You know Tom?" Gita asked, looking confused. "I highly doubt it. I'm his bodyguard and he tells me who is allowed in here. He certainly didn't mention YOUR name."

And with that, Gita pulled a large hunting rifle out of her pocket and jabbed the barrel between Andrea's boobs.

"YOU are his fucking bodyguard? What the hell?" Now Andrea was confused too. And annoyed. She pushed the gun out of her cleavage and saw that it had left an unattractive mark.

"Yeah muckheap, I'm his bodyguard, and he didn't say you could be in here, so why don't you just make like a tree, and get the hell out of here."

"Well did he mention the name Verjayner Singh?" Andrea asked indignantly.

"Um, yeah, he did, but I assumed that would be an East Indian man," Gita said.

"That's his code name for me," Andrea explained. "He didn't want anyone to know it was me."

"Well why the hell not?" asked Gita.

"Well I guess I can tell you, but you have to promise to keep it top secret," Andrea said tentatively.

"Let me guess, you're his secret lover?" Gita said jokingly. "I could believe it, the man has got great fucking taste."

"Well actually..." Andrea smiled at Gita and looked her in the eye.

"Holy shit, I LOVE you Andrea!" Gita yelled at the top of her lungs. And with that she put the hunting rifle back in her pocket and gave Andrea a huge hug.

"Careful, you'll ruin my makeup," Andrea said, even more confused. "Where is my King Cock, and why do you give a flying fuck that I'm his lover?"

Gita wrinkled her nose in disgust. "King Cock? That's repulsive. Don't ever say the word cock to me. EVER! Or you'll be dead to me, DEAD!"

They both burst out laughing and hugged again.

"But seriously, where is he?" asked Andrea.

"He's not here right now," Gita explained. "He'll be back in a few minutes, come on in and make yourself comfortable. I'll explain why I became his bodyguard and why it works perfectly with my plan that you're boning him."

"What, I can't say cock, but boning is perfectly okay?" Andrea quipped.

"Shut up bitch or I'll ram this rifle up your twat!"

"You know, Gita, its 'make like a tree and leave,' you sound like an imbecile when you say it wrong."

And with that Gita gave her a playful slap on the arm, parted the curtain covering the entrance, and the two old friends entered the lair hand in hand.




Chapter 2

Emily Luther was just putting the finishing touches on her article for an upcoming issue of Roger Magazine. She was quite proud of it. She had spent many hours researching the growing relationship between rubber duckies and sex toys, and she was sure it would raise many eyebrows. Emily leaned back in her chair and stretched. She smiled as she thought about the many uses she and Dave could come up with for the free samples the sex toy distributor had given her, for strictly research purposes.

Suddenly, the door to her office flew open and Seana Mullen burst into her office throwing a piece of bright pink stationary down on her desk. “You won’t fucking believe this!”

Emily sighed. “Seana, that was uncalled for. You know how to knock. I could have been masturbating! Anyway, what the hell are you in a fury about, now?"

“Just read it!” Seana perched on the edge of Emily’s desk and lit a cigarette. “Actually, read it out loud…I just want to make sure I didn’t accidentally eat some of Kate’s brownies again.”

“Fine.” Emily reached over and picked up the sheet of paper. Seana was her oldest friend, but she could be a bit of a drama queen at times. Emily cleared her throat.

“ ’A note from THE Andrea Warner-
Dear Everyone,
I have some good news and some bad news. The good news is that I have finally discovered my true place in the universe. I was without direction for so long, that I thought it was normal. Luckily, a special friend of mine has shown me a new path- a path that, until very recently, was hidden from my sight. My friend, a wise and wonderful man, said some beautiful and insightful words to me, and I would like to share them with you. He told me that on the road of life, you could make a few wrong turns. Sometimes, the road becomes too slippery and you can lose control. Other times, you can try putting the car into reverse, so you won’t end up on the one-way road to hell. I have decided to pull over and get out of the car and travel on foot, with Tom as my guide-‘” Emily broke off her reading. “What the- Seana, are you playing silly bugger, again? I mean, this sounds like one of those crazy hymns we wrote for religion class in high school.”

“Oh, keep reading, it gets much better. Even I can’t make this stuff up.”

“Okay, I’ll humour you…Blah, blah, blah, car in reverse, path, Tom- who the fuck is Tom, anyway? Ah, here we are…’As you read this, I will be on my way to Victoria to begin my new life and career as a PR representative for Paco’s Phallus. This is an amazing opportunity and I cannot pass it up. So, it is with regret that I must cease all operations at Roger Magazine by the close of business today. I understand that this must come as a shock to you all, especially to you, Seana and Emily. Jen will be by later today and I am sure you will find your severance cheques to be more than generous. I am sorry, but if you can give me the gift of your understanding and support, the universe will take care of you, too. I must listen to my inner being: its voice has been stifled for far too long. Love, Andrea.’” Emily laid the letter facedown on her desk. “I am flabbergasted.”

Seana nodded. “I’m kind of shocked and appalled myself.”

The two friends sat in silence for a few minutes.

“Maybe she’s pregnant,” Seana speculated. “You know, wrong direction, inner-being…maybe this Tom character has knocked her up and they’ve eloped.”

“Or joined a religious order.” Emily lit a cigarette.

“Well, whatever she’s up to, it’s weird. And, we’re screwed, even if she did give us generous severance packages.”

Emily nodded. Didn’t she know it? Dave had recently quit his job at e-bay to start up a new business. His dream was to become a personal chef for some of the Hollywood celebrities that came up to Vancouver to film movies and TV shows. As of yet, he didn’t have any clients, but they assumed that since Roger magazine was becoming a success, they would be ok, financially. “I might have to take that crappy job with the Weekly World News.”

“Ha! I’m going to have to take that crappy job with US magazine. I get to write captions for pictures of Paris Hilton for the rest of my life!”

“There has to be more to this.” Emily pulled a flask out of her pocket and took a swig. “This is not THE Andrea Warner I know.”

Seana shrugged. “You’re the reporter. But, what do we do? Follow her to Victoria, if that’s where she actually went? Hunt her down and knock some sense into her?”

“Hmm…” Emily leaned back in her chair,” Maybe we shall…..”




Chapter 3

The surroundings were decadent and luxurious, and as Dave Whiteley looked around, he felt excited, and slightly envious. He was nervous about the job interview and fascinated with his prospective bosses.

An old man who introduced himself as Reverend Cyril had picked him up on the rooftop of his and Emily's building in Vancouver in a brand new helicopter painted with the initials "H.P." and flown him across the Georgia Strait while he drank champagne and listened to some bluegrass music on the helicopter's impressive sound system. He now found himself in the home of these bosses he had not yet met, and it was, simply put, gorgeous.

It was a penthouse on the top floor of a high-rise, with a view of the city and harbour. The living room, in which he was sitting, had extremely high ceilings, hardwood floors, and walls of windows on all sides. On one end of the living room was a platform with a large hot tub, and on another end was a huge red trampoline with various toys, stuffed animals and balls strewn across it. The living room also contained an amazing TV and sound system worth several thousand dollars. These people were obviously rich and Dave couldn't wait to meet them.

Cyril had poured him more champagne, which he was drinking when the door opened and a short, portly man walked in. The man appeared to be in his 40s, and had shaggy, dirty blonde hair. His pants were worn across his ribcage, above his protruding belly, which looked rather odd, but his apparent confidence overshadowed the bizarre position of the pants.

"Who the hell are you and why should I hire you?" was his opening statement.

Dave was taken aback for a moment, surprised that the man had not even said hello or introduced himself, but he was also impressed by his straightforwardness.

"Well, sir, my name is Dave Whiteley and I am quite simply the best chef you will ever get," he said, trying to sound confident. "If I can use your kitchen for a few minutes, I will show you what I mean."

The man's facial expression didn't change. "Go to it," he said. "My favourite dish is frog legs sautéed in red wine vinegar. There are some live frogs in the aquarium over there."

Dave looked over and saw that a few feet away from the hot tub there was indeed an aquarium filled with live bullfrogs. He had never had to kill and cook a frog before, but he wasn't going to let that stop him.

"Sure, sir, but before I do that, would you mind introducing yourself?" Dave asked tentatively.

"Shut the fuck up," the man said authoritatively. "If you're good enough to hire, I will tell you who I am. If you're not, you don't deserve to know."

So Dave obediently grabbed a frog out of the aquarium, found the knives in the kitchen, and stabbed it to death. He then removed the legs and began to cook. He had never made the dish before, but he did take a few liberties, such as putting cornmeal and molasses in the red wine vinegar sauce, which he knew would make it irresistible.

When he went back into the living room to present the dish, he saw there was a woman sitting on the couch with the man. She too was rather rotund, although younger and much more attractive than the man. The man grabbed the dish and stuffed the frog legs into his mouth all at once, chewing briefly and swallowing.

It took him a few minutes to finish, during which time Dave didn't see any hints on his face as to whether the food was satisfactory. Finally, the man reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a bottle of very expensive scotch.

"You, my man, are hired. Congratulations."

Dave let out a whoop of excitement, and the man poured him a glass of scotch. He then finally introduced himself. "My name was originally Ronald Dingleberry. But for my career, my agent recommended that I have it legally changed to High-Pants. You can call me H.P."

Dave shook H.P.'s hand, a confused look on his face. "And, if I may ask, sir, what do you do that requires you to have a name like High-Pants?" Dave was also trying not to laugh, since the first thing he had noticed about the man was how he wore his pants so high.

"If you haven't heard of me yet, you will," said High-Pants. "I'm an actor, and currently starring in a movie being filmed here in Victoria with some of the top A-list actors in Hollywood. It's going to be a blockbuster and probably an Oscar winner as well. The character I play is a butler who is secretly involved in a large drug-smuggling operation. They specifically picked me for the part because of the way I wear my pants high up. It's my trademark, and it's going to make me famous."

"That's...intriguing," Dave said. "But couldn't they have just gotten any actor to play the part and just told him to wear his pants high?"

"Do you want me to pull your liver out and make you eat it!?" High-Pants yelled. "Never, and I mean NEVER insult me in my own home. That is rule number one if you are going to work here. If you want to insult someone, insult her!"

High-Pants was pointing at the woman. "This, by the way, is Helwig Dingleberry, my wife, also known as Mini-Clit. She has the smallest clitoris known to mankind," he shouted.

"It's true," said the woman. "It's tiny. I had my name legally changed to Mini-Clit as well. You can call me M.C."

Dave thought this was all very bizarre, but he did not want to offend his new boss, and the salary he was offering was generous in the extreme. He had also been offered the suite below this one, rent-free, while he worked as a personal chef to H.P. and M.C. He decided it was probably wise to express interest in his boss's career.

"So what's the movie called? What famous actors are in it?" he asked.

"Well, it's called Jack-o-Lantern Canteloupe, and it stars myself, Philip Seymour Hoffman, Billy Bob Thornton, and a little known actor by the name of TOM FUCKING CRUISE!!!" H.P. shouted at the top of his lungs. "Impressed now, you little pissant?"

Dave wasn't sure how to respond; his new boss appeared to have some anger issues. "Um, yes, terribly impressed." And it was true; he was impressed, and also excited at the prospect of possibly meeting some celebrities and getting some new clients. He still wasn't sure what would happen with his and Emily's living arrangements, since she had a great job in Vancouver at Roger Magazine. But then again, with the salary he would be making, he could afford to fly back and forth. Hell, maybe H.P. would allow him use of the helicopter!

"Welcome to our home, Dave," Mini-Clit said warmly. "I believe H.P. would like to bring you to the set of his movie tomorrow so you can make snacks for him while he works. You can meet some of the other actors and everything. Meanwhile let's get you settled in the suite downstairs." She seemed a lot calmer and nicer than her husband.

"Sounds great!" Dave exclaimed. Emily knew he would be out of town for a few days, so he decided not to call her until after he saw how tomorrow went. Then he could tell her how he met Tom Cruise and the other celebrities and she would be very excited. He decided that night if he had time, he would go for a drink with Greg Polakoff and Mikey Barker, two old friends who lived in a loft a few blocks away. If he did end up moving to Victoria permanently, it would be nice to have them around. 





Chapter 4

“Well, I am glad to see that you arrived safely, my love. Come on in. I need to see your luscious form.”

Andrea’s heart skipped a beat at the sound of Tom’s sexy, masculine voice. She glanced over at Gita, who rolled her eyes and gave her a little shove into the room. She stumbled slightly, but once she recovered, she realized that she was in the most opulent room she had ever seen in her life. Luxurious oriental rugs were scattered all over the dark walnut floors. The room was dimly lit by strategically placed candelabras. The walls were covered with erotic art, but she could still pick out flashes of blood red paint in between the elaborate gold frames. A mysterious, but sexually charged figure lounged atop a pile of cushions mounted on a carpeted platform at the center of the room.

Andrea tentatively stepped forward. Now that the moment she had been waiting for was here, she felt a little nauseous. “Tom? Is that you?”

Suddenly, the shadowy figure leapt to its feet, and back flipped off the platform, landing at Andrea’s feet on bended knee. “Of course, it is I, my goddess.” Tom reached into his pocket and pulled out a long-stemmed rose. “For you.”

“Oh thank you Tom. You are so acrobatic!” Andrea took the rose from her fantasy man.

Tom got to his feet and flashed his famous 1000-watt grin at her. “I see you’ve met my personal bodyguard, G-Spot.”

Andrea whirled around to face Gita, who was lurking in the shadows by the doorway. “Gi-, I mean, G-Spot?”

“Yup. I was very lucky to engage G-Spot’s services. She’s the toughest bodyguard in the business. I’m also helping to finance her rap career.” Tom held up his left hand. “Slip me some skin G-Spot!”

Gita half-heartedly lumbered over and slapped Tom’s hand.

“Your album is going to be off the hook! YEEEE!!!!!” Tom hollered, dancing around Gita, who looked as if she wanted to rip off Tom’s skin and feed it to an angry amphibian. “She’s such a thug! I love it!”

“Well, that sounds very exciting.” Andrea replied. Tom’s exuberant behaviour was kind of freaking her out a little.

“It is, it is. I’ve been learning a lot about the history of hip-hop. It’s fascinating. With me and my fellow scientologists backing her, G-Spot will become the biggest rapper in the world! Anyway, that's all for now, G-Spot. Go secure the perimeter and I’ll call if I need your services again.”

“Bye, G-Spot,” Andrea waved at Gita.

“Later, Andrea.” Gita turned to leave.

“Do NOT speak to her in that tone!” Tom’ s face was flushed and a gigantic vein was throbbing in his forehead. It kind of reminded Andrea of his famous scene in “A Few Good Men”. “I never said you were fit to speak to her!!! Do not forget your place G-Spot!”

Andrea was shocked and somewhat appalled. “Tom, I think you’re over-reacting, just a little bit.”

“Am I? AM I? G-Spot is my employee. You are my love. She has to remember her place.” Tom stalked over to Gita. “Do not let it happen again. You’re on the clock. Now, get out of my sight!”

“Yes, sir!” Gita growled and left the chamber without looking at Andrea.

“Tom, was that really necessary? I don’t think you should have yelled at her like that. That display made me feel very uncomfortable.”

Tom came over and took Andrea’s hand. “Really? I was that convincing? Score one for the Cruise! Woooo! Come on my dear, join me. We have much to discuss.” He pulled her over to the pile of cushions. “Sit, make yourself comfortable. You must be exhausted.”

Andrea was thoroughly confused. Maybe she was making a mistake. “Tom, I don’t know if this is such a good idea. Maybe I should go.”

“Nonsense! Sit down, get comfortable. You have been handpicked to spend the rest of your life at my side. I have never met anyone more perfect than you.” Tom stroked Andrea’s cheek. “You are so beautiful. Lie back and relax…”

Against her better judgment, Andrea lay back on the pile of cushions. This was what she had always wanted. Tom Cruise was the sexiest man alive. He was also such a brilliant actor; that fit she had witnessed had to be an act… Andrea suddenly realized that an extremely large poster of L. Ron Hubbard was staring down at her. Well, this was a bit creepy. Suddenly, the picture’s mouth opened and a pink gaseous cloud began pouring out, with a gentle hiss. “What the hell?” Andrea tried to sit up.

“Breathe deeply, my darling. You will feel much better soon.” Tom flashed his sexy smile at her.

Andrea couldn’t help herself any longer. His wide, shark like grin was hypnotizing her. Andrea pounced, pinning Tom’s shoulders to the cushions. She kissed him passionately, as her animalistic instincts kicked in and she ripped off his shirt, revealing his perfectly sculpted torso. Everything faded into a pink haze as Andrea began ravishing Tom Cruise.

While Andrea was inside, having her way with Tom Cruise, Gita stood outside the door to the chamber, puffing angrily on a cigarette. That fucking asshole. She could not believe that he felt that he had the right to treat her that way. Gita sighed. “Oh well, he’ll get his,” Gita grinned evilly, as she thought of the plans she had for Tom. Suddenly, an idea for a rap song popped into her head, and she felt compelled to perform it out loud.

“Yo! G-Spot is in tha house, yo!
Toughest thug in the hood!
Sittin’, strummin’ your banjo,
While I’m takin’ off with your Katie-ho!
Fool!
Treatin’ that hottie like a piece of shit,
Lemme tell ya, I ain’t puttin’ up with it!
Yo! Yo! Yo!
Everyone thinks you’re crazy and whacked,
I’m gonna sneak in like a heart attack!
Strike you down, leave you for dead,
You don’t even know that we fuck in your bed!
Your wife is fine, her booty’s nice,
And G-Spot’s got her caught in some kind of vice!
Uh-huh, uh-huh.
That’s right Tommy-boy, I’m fucking your wife,
Talk shit to me again and you’ll be tastin’ my knife!
Katie’s been converted by G-Spot the preacher!
Wonder what else a pussy lover can teach her!
‘Cause G-Spot ROCKS the G-Spot!!!!!
So, we’ll be getting’ away and taking all your dough,
What happens when you forget to sign a pre-nup, bro!
Keep yellin’ at G-Spot all that you like,
While you’re fucking Warner,
I’ll be stealing your wife.
Peace!”




Chapter 5

The movie set was not at all what Dave had expected. It was in a small, rundown house in a lower class neighbourhood of Victoria. The house was made up to look like a drug den, because the movie, Jack-o-lantern Canteloupe, was supposed to be about heroin smugglers. Apparently the title was a reference to the tendency of heroin addicts to be unable to distinguish between canteloupes and jack-o-lanterns.

The house reeked, very badly, and there were piles of human excrement on the front lawn. It was not the type of environment that Dave had envisioned cooking in, but he was going to make the best of it. At least the house had a workable kitchen, even though the fridge and stove had graffiti all over them.

Dave had arrived early, before anyone else, to cook High-Pants' breakfast. H.P. had specifically requested rare leg of lamb in a white wine butter sauce. Dave thought that was a little unusual for breakfast, but hey, the guy was an actor.

"Actors are all a bunch of freaks anyway," Dave muttered aloud as he pulled a live sheep out of his pocket and killed it with a Swiss army knife. H.P. liked all his food freshly killed.

"Oh are they now?" said a low, booming, sensual voice.

Dave turned to see Billy Bob Thornton in the doorway, wearing a hot pink suit and purple sunglasses.

"Hello there," Billy Bob boomed. "I'm Billy Bob Thornton. And you must be the young man H.P. hired to cook for him?"

"Yes sir, my name is Dave. I am very sorry about that remark, I didn't mean it at all. I love actors, all of them, especially you!"

"Oh don't worry about it, young man," Billy Bob boomed. "I can understand why you would say that, if you work for High-Pants. The man is a narcissistic, delusional psychopath."

Dave wasn't sure how to respond, since he agreed with the statement but didn't want to insult his boss. He liked Billy Bob immediately. The man had a charismatic, humourous, yet sexy demeanour. They started talking about video games, and chicks they thought were hot.

"Tom Cruise has a new lover, he's cheating on Katie Holmes," Billy Bob mentioned at one point. "But I can totally see why, this new chick is a HOT PUPPY. I would ram my blood sausage into her tuna taco anytime!"

"Hmm, I will have to meet this goddess," Dave said. "Does he ever bring her to set?"

"He hasn't yet, but he might today," Billy Bob explained. "She just got into town. Say, Dave, it was really nice to meet you. I will leave you alone to finish cooking that lamb. But I also wanted to let you know that besides acting, I also moonlight as a bounty hunter. Philsee helps me out with it, so if you ever know anyone who needs a bounty hunter, here's our business card."

"Philsee?" Dave asked.

"Pleased to meet you, kind sir!" a new voice said. "I am Philip Seymour Hoffman. You can call me Philsee. I see you have met Billy Bob. You can call him Bilby. Those are our bounty hunter names."

Dave looked and saw that Philsee was wearing a pink suit identical to the one Billy Bob was wearing, but his sunglasses were green. "Philsee! It is such a pleasure to meet you. I loved you in Magnolia. My name is Dave, I am a chef."

"Thanks Dave!" said Philsee. "Magnolia was the first time I worked with Tom Cruise, and I kind of wish it was the last. Every time I meet him, he seems like more of a religious fanatic."

"Shhhhh!" Bilby was pointing at the door of the house. There was Tom Cruise himself. He was wearing a purple cape, and grinning maniacally. There was something extremely sinister about his eyes, and his teeth were terrifying.

"Hey Tommy-boy," said Bilby. "This here's Dave, he's H.P.'s chef. I was just telling him about that bootylicious babe you got yourself. Show him a picture!"

"Indeed I will!" Tom screeched, loud enough to hurt Dave's ears. "Here's one that was taken last night in my lair!"

Tom pulled out a picture and showed it to the other men. In it, a beautiful woman was lying across the floor of what looked like an extremely luxurious room. She had a strange device attached to her nose, and she appeared to be unconscious. In the background was an enormous poster of L. Ron Hubbard. The woman looked very familiar to Dave, but he could not tell exactly who it was, because her face was partly obscured by the bizarre device up her nostrils.

"What's that thing on her face?" Dave asked.

"It's called a Mushy-Mushy," Tom said. "It's a device that we scientologists use on new people we are trying to recruit. It inserts some special herbs and drugs up their nose to make them more susceptible to our message. Any woman of mine has to be a scientologist, and this one is very strong willed. We may have to keep the Mushy-Mushy up her nose for a few months. Of course I can still fuck her while it's up there, she just doesn't really notice because she's only semi-conscious."

Dave did not know how to respond to this. It was one of the most heinous things he had ever heard, however this was Tom Cruise, and he supposed it was none of his business. The woman did look eerily familiar though. He could not quite place her.

Suddenly, Dave's cell phone rang. It was Emily.

"Hey sweetie, you still in Victoria?" she asked. Her voice sounded urgent.

"Yes, in fact, I was going to surprise you. I'm on a movie set with Tom Cruise, Philip Seymour Hoffman and Billy Bob Thornton! I got an amazing job!"

"That's great, Dave. Congratulations," Emily said. She didn't sound as enthusiastic as he had expected. "So anyway, Seana and I are on a ferry on our way to Victoria. Andrea fired us and moved there, supposedly to work for Paco's Phallus. But something weird is going on and we want to investigate it."

"Andrea?" Dave asked. "THE Andrea Warner is in Victoria?"

And suddenly Dave remembered Tom's sinister picture and it all clicked. He was startled, and then extremely appalled.




Chapter 6

Seana wandered aimlessly around the gift shop, looking for something to read. Emily was still on the upper deck talking to Dave on her cell phone. She hoped that the conversation hadn’t degenerated into one of their phone sex sessions. They needed to find out what was going on with Andrea. She stopped in front of a magazine rack, upon which Roger Magazine was prominently displayed. “Oh, Roger.” she murmured, as she lovingly caressed the cover. All of their hard work, gone forever. She was still in a fury about what Andrea had done, but at the same time, she was extremely concerned. Andrea Warner was a fun-loving, yet sensible gal. She was often the voice of reason, especially where she and Emily were concerned. But, recently, something had changed. Andrea’s behaviour had become increasingly erratic over the last couple of weeks, after she returned from the Magazine Editors Conference and Jamboree in Los Angeles.

Seana continued glancing over the pathetic magazine selection, and then she noticed something very bizarre on the cover of US Weekly. “Tom’s New Love! Katie Under Suicide Watch!” the garish yellow headline trumpeted. The cover photo was slightly grainy, as if it had been taken from long distance away. “It can’t be,” Seana whispered. But, it was. Andrea Warner, THE Andrea Warner, locked in a sensual embrace with Tom Cruise. Seana stuffed the magazine into her pocket and ran out of the gift shop. “Hey, that’s illegal!” someone shouted after her. “What you are doing is illegal!” Luckily a large group of Japanese tourists waving bottles of maple syrup and stuffed polar bears had momentarily distracted the clerk. Seana ignored the idiot yelling after her. She was already banished from Sears; she didn’t want to be banned from another retail establishment. As she was running up the stairs, she crashed into Emily, who was sliding down the banister.

“Andrea’s with Tom Cruise!” they shouted at each other in unison.

“Hein? How do YOU know?” Emily demanded.

Seana pulled the copy of US Weekly out of her pocket. “Here. How do YOU know?”

“Well, it’s a long story…”

Fifteen minutes later, Emily had finished telling Seana what Dave had told her. “It sounds like she’s gotten herself into a nice mess this time. How are we going to get her out of it? Soon, she’ll be just like Katie Holmes. An emotionless zombie robot, who gets artificially impregnated with his culty spawn!” Seana exclaimed.

“It’ll be difficult. Tom’s surrounded by tons of people to keep him well protected. I mean, look at this bodyguard standing behind him in this photo. He’s got a hunting rifle! In his pocket!” Emily threw the magazine down in disgust.

“Wait a minute,” Seana picked up the magazine, “That bodyguard looks kind of familiar…Hey, that’s Gita!”

“Gita? The hell? Well, that’s just great. You know she graduated from the Gorply Memorial Bodyguard Collegiate. They’re the best trained bodyguards in the world.”

“Hmmm” Seana stroked her chin, thoughtfully, “What we need is a bounty hunter.”

“Wait a minute, wait a minute…Dave said something about Billy Bob Thornton being a part time bounty hunter. Maybe we could hire him.” Emily pulled her cell phone out of her pocket. “I’ll call Dave right back and get him to hire Billy Bob!”

“Better hurry, the ferry’s about to dock and the reception down in the car is crap, now. By the way, did you remember your hunting rifle?”

Emily patted her pocket. “Right here, my friend, right here.”

“Good, I have mine, too. I think we might be needing them.”

“Arrr! Stop right there, you scurvy land-lubbers!” Emily and Seana turned to see a man dressed like a pirate standing before them. “I heard you two talking about packing hunting rifles on this here ship! And, ye-“ he turned to Seana “be stealing magazines from our fine shop!”

“Oh, we were just being silly. Ignore us. We’ll be leaving right away.” Emily took Seana’s arm and tried to drag her away.

“Hold it right there, missy!” the pirate pulled a sword out of his pocket. “I’ll have none of this mischief on my watch! I reckon I’d better take you to the Captain. He’ll know what to do with both of you! Hands up!”

“Well, this is fucking fantastic.” Seana mumbled, as the pirate pulled both of their hunting rifles out of their pockets.

“March! To the Captain!” the pirate growled.

They had little choice but to follow his instructions. Finally, they reached a doorway. The pirate knocked. “Now we’ll see what the Captain has to say about this.”

“Enter,” a tired male voice wafted through the doorway. The pirate jabbed Seana in the back, and she entered the room. A tall, slender man, in a white captain’s hat was slumped in a chair in the middle of the bridge. Other ferry officers scurried around, in their white uniforms, steering the boat and whatnot, but the captain seemed oddly detached.

“Captain, I bring you two salty wenches. They’ve been smuggling rifles and stealin’ magazines! They be planning a mutiny!” the pirate announced proudly.

“Ok, Jimmy, I’ll take it from here.” The captain turned to face them, and his jaw dropped in shock. “Emily? Seana? What are you two doing here?”

“Greg!” Emily exclaimed. “I know that you and Mikey moved to Victoria, but I didn’t know that you were a ferry captain!”

“Yeah, well, I thought it would be an adventure, but I was wrong,” Greg heaved a sigh and turned to Jimmy the pirate. “It’s ok, Jimmy. They’re friends.”

“Arrr!!!!!” Jimmy threw down the hunting rifles and stalked away. “Thar she blows!” he muttered, leaving the bridge.

“So, what have you two been up to? Hunting rifles…are you two going on an adventure?” Greg’s eyes lit up at the prospect.

Emily and Seana exchanged a look. “Actually, we are… and we may be able to use your help.” Seana said, thoughtfully.




Chapter 7

Dave was cooking up a vegetarian stew as he waited for everyone to arrive. Ever since he had started working for High-Pants, he hadn't been as enthusiastic about eating meat, since High-Pants had forced him to slaughter so many live animals. They were in his suite under H.P.'s, and Emily and Seana were in the living room with Greg and Mikey, explaining the Andrea situation. Billy Bob and Philip Seymour would be arriving any minute to be briefed on the case and discuss strategy.

"I am so excited to meet them!" exclaimed Mikey enthusiastically. "They are both such wonderful actors, and hot hot hot!"

"Mikey, this is serious business, Andrea could be in danger," Greg said disapprovingly. "This is no time to be starstruck."

"Sorry sorry sorry!" said Mikey in a high, whiny voice. "God, Greg, you never let me have any fun. Just because you hate your stupid ferry captain job."

"Mikey, how many times have I told you to act dignified?" Greg said. "Do you want me to pull out your gall bladder and make you eat it? No? Then shut your festering cake-hole."

At that moment, there was a knock on the door. Seana got up to open it. Billy Bob and Philip Seymour walked in, both wearing black top hats and lime green skin-tight bodysuits.

"Hello there, I'm Bilby and this is Philsee," said Bilby.

Seana introduced herself and led the two men into the living room. Introductions were made all around, and Seana noticed with some alarm that Mikey and Greg were both acting very odd. Mikey was staring at Philsee's crotch with a maniacal grin on his face, and a growing bulge in the crotch of his purple pants. This was not entirely surprising, but Greg, who was usually quite reserved, had gotten down on all fours and was licking Philsee's feet, like a dog.

"What the hell is going on?" demanded Emily, mildly amused but also annoyed that this nonsense was going on while there was an emergency at hand.

"Philsee, Oooooooh, Philsee!!!!" Mikey yelled passionately at the top of his lungs. He then pulled a tennis racket out of his pocket and started slapping his erection with it. Philsee appeared slightly taken aback, but he too had a growing boner, and it was about twice the size of Mikey's.

At that moment, Dave entered the room holding a bucket of steaming stew. When he saw the odd behavior going on between Philsee, Mikey, and Greg, he appeared baffled, and then slightly repulsed. "This is NOT the time or the place, you pissants. Have your little homosexual orgy another time. We have a crisis on our hands! Do you give a shit about Andrea or not?"

"He's right, boys," said Philsee seductively. "We need to talk strategy. The three of us will definitely get together later though!"

Greg reluctantly pulled himself away from Philsee's shoe and Mikey sadly put the tennis racket back in his pocket. "Fine then," Mikey said, pouting. "You two are the bounty hunters, what do you suggest?"

"Well, we definitely need to kidnap that yummy hottie Andrea back from Tom's clutches so that we can deprogram her," said Bilby. "That's a given. But how do we accomplish that? We must first figure out where he is keeping her. That could be difficult."

"Well, we might have a lead there," said Emily. "It turns out that Tom's bodyguard is an old friend of ours, Gita. Now, perhaps we can use that to our advantage. We could maybe call her up and causally ask to visit her or something, and then maybe she would lead us to where Andrea is being kept?"

"That's not a bad idea," said Bilby. "Why don't you go in the kitchen and call her right now. In the meantime, we will have to discuss what to do once we find her."

Emily went into the kitchen and dialed Gita's cell phone number.

"Yo, this G-Spot, speak!" said the voice that answered.

"Hein?" Emily said. "I'm looking for Gita."

"Yer talkin' at her, beeatch! Whaddya want?"

"It's Emily. Uh...Seana and I are in Victoria and we heard you were in town. Can we come over and visit you?"

"You don't fool me, ya dirty cunt," Gita said angrily. "You probably just heard that I work for the Cruise-meister now, and you wanna come over and check out his tallywhacker!"

"Uh...okay ya got me," said Emily. "I want to see Tom's dinky. But if you let us, Seana and I will show you our boobs!"

"Fuuuuuuuuck THAT!" Gita yelled. "You two are just a couple of nasty little sluts. I've got better boobs to look at these days!"

And with that she hung up. "FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!!!!!!" Emily yelled at the top of her lungs as she walked back into the living room. "You guys, sorry, she wasn't cooperative."

"Don't worry about it," said Bilby. He pulled a large, beeping metal contraption out of his pocket. "This is a satellite triangulator. We were able to use her cell phone signal to pinpoint their location. We've traced them to a large yacht off the west coast of the island, near Tofino."

"Hmm," said Dave. "High-Pants mentioned that Tom was going to be having a party on his yacht for the cast and crew of the movie. I think it takes place tomorrow night. They want me to do the cooking for it. H.P. was going to send over his helicopter to pick me up, if he can find a new pilot in time. Apparently Reverend Cyril had a tragic accident in a restaurant and will be unavailable to fly the chopper."

"That will be the perfect time to kidnap Andrea back," said Bilby. "We can all go over in the helicopter. But we need to make absolutely sure that we can distract Tom during the party while we kidnap her. Otherwise it could be big trouble."

"I know exactly what would work!" exclaimed Philsee. "Tom has been hinting to me that he'd like to experiment with a man...he's obviously bi-curious."

"Why does everything have to be about homosexuality and cocksucking with you?" Bilby said in an irritated voice.

"No, that's a good idea," Seana said. "I read in People magazine last week that Tom confessed to Michael Jackson that he sometimes fantasizes about young boys. Why don't we hire a provocative male prostitute to distract him?"

"That's exactly what I was thinking," Philsee said. "And I know the perfect male prostitute for the job. I've used him several times and he's HOT!"




Chapter 8

Michael Hogan, (or Hoagie, as he was known to his homies), was driving up the coast from Victoria towards Tofino. He had received a very bizarre phone call earlier that morning from one of his clients. He was to meet him at the Bananahammmock Resort and Spa, a popular destination for the gay male population of Vancouver Island. Normally, he was very excited at the prospect of servicing this client, but this time was different. He was supposed to be servicing another man, a homosexual virgin. Hoagie didn’t like dealing with first-timers. There was so much to teach them about the pleasures of the anal flesh, and they were often squeamish little girly-men. Hoagie sighed. At least the money would be good. He might even be able to retire to Aborigene, a small island in the South Pacific. Ahhh, Aborigene, where the grass grows wild, and the only known inhabitants were naked men and boys, who all believed that homosexuality was the only way to swing…

Hoagie was so lost in his lustful contemplation of firm male buttocks, he nearly missed the turn-off to the Bananahammock Resort. Hoagie drove up to hotel and parked in front of the door. A valet in a tank top and hot pants came out, to park his car.

“Hi, Mr. Hogan,” he breathed, “Are you here for business or pleasure?”

“Hi, there, Willy. I’m here for business, I’m afraid.” He tossed his keys at Willy.
“Well, you know how to reach me, if you would like to experience some pleasure!”

“Sure Willy, whatever.” Hoagie didn’t have time to listen to this kid’s rambling. He looked up, and noticed a familiar blue helicopter landing on the roof of the hotel. “ I gotta go. My clients are here.”

“Oh, you know Tom Cruise?” Willy asked interestedly. “So, it’s true that he’s a homo!”

“Hein? How do you know it belongs to Tom Cruise?”

“Well, Tom’s yacht has been parked off-shore for the last few days. Apparently, he’s been flying a lot of celebrities into town…you know, from Hollywood!”

“Hmm. Intriguing.” Hoagie mumbled, as he grabbed his backpack and walked into the hotel. He didn’t bother checking in, as he knew that his client would be waiting for him in their usual suite. Hoagie knocked tentatively at the door to the Butt Plug Suite. “Come on in!” an exuberant voice called out. Hoagie opened the door to find Tom Cruise’s shark-like grin beaming out at him, like a beacon on a foggy night. His heart skipped a beat. It had always been a fantasy of his to make sweet love to Tom Cruise. As a young man, he had spent many hours bitterly masturbating to Tom’s image and cursing Nicole Kidman for hoarding him to herself all those years. Although Tom’s smile freaked him out a little, it also excited him. Especially in a sexual way. Could he be the one his client was talking about? He was to deflower the great Tom Cruise! It was like Christmas and Easter rolled into one!

Tom grabbed his hand, and began shaking it vigorously. “I am so glad to meet you. Philsee and Bilby have told me so much about you.”

“They have?” Hoagie looked past Tom and saw Philsee and Bilby sitting on the bed. They were wearing identical polkadotted bowties and safari hats.

“Oh, yes. They say that we have a lot in common, you know that we share many of the same interests, especially those of a private nature, if you know what I mean, and I think you do!!!” Tom winked at him knowingly.

Hoagie felt his mushroom tip going drip drip drip. “Yes, I believe we do. At least that’s what Philsee told me.”

“Ah, so you are interested in Scientology.” Tom turned to Philsee and Bilby. “I like the cut of his jib! Do you mind leaving us, so we can get down to business?”

Bilby and Philsee got to their feet. “Sure,” Philsee patted Hoagie on the shoulder. “Remember what we talked about.” He whispered in Hoagie’s ear. He and Bilby exchanged a knowing glance and left the room.

As soon as they were gone, Hoagie locked the door behind them. “I’m not really interested in Scientology, you know.”

“You’re not?” Tom looked puzzled. “But, Philsee and Bilby said that you were looking for salvation in the form of worshipping an alien god.”

“He lied. I’m here to seduce you.” Hoagie reached down and unbuckled his pants.

“What?? Hey, look, I don’t know what tabloids you’ve been reading, but those rumours are totally unfounded!” Tom backed away and fell over onto the bed.

Hoagie ripped his pants off and jumped on top of Tom. “I think it is true. You look pretty excited to me.” He gestured at Tom’s bulging crotch. “I’ve been fantasizing about fucking you for years.”

“Really? Well, no, no, this isn’t right. I’m a married man!”

“And that’s why you’ve been fucking around with Andrea Warner?” Hoagie began unbuttoning Tom’s flowery blouse.

“How do you know about that?”

“Never mind about that. I know what way you truly want it. Don’t worry. I’ll be gentle.” Hoagie leaned down and kissed Tom passionately on the lips.

Tom moaned. “Oh my fucking God! Your lips are like two water beds…a big mushy, warm beautiful thing! Kiss me again!”

Hoagie broke into a large, shark-like leer that rivaled Tom’s own maniacal grin. “I’d only be too happy to oblige.”




Chapter 9

Seana was frantic as they waited for H.P.’s helicopter to arrive. Bilby and Philsee had gone to the yacht earlier in Tom’s chopper to start putting the plan in place. They were going to have the male prostitute seduce Tom so that he would be distracted while they kidnapped Andrea, but who knew what could go wrong. She just had to trust in their abilities as bounty hunters.

Thank god Mikey and Greg had stayed behind and were coming in H.P,’s chopper with Seana, Emily and Dave. The scene between Mikey, Greg and Philsee had certainly been erotic. But it was completely inappropriate.

“You two had better control your sexual urges around Philsee,” Seana said to Mikey and Greg. “He’s a charismatic man, but we have to focus on the task at hand.”

“Look, twat, you don’t have a cock so you have no idea what it’s like to want a man’s custard,” Mikey said indignantly. “When you know, in your testicles, that a man’s cock-snot is meant for you, I mean it’s pure animal desire. A smelly bleeding woman would never understand.”

“What in Sam Hill are you talking about?” Emily said, spinning around. “Seana, this stupidity calls for drastic measures. Emily and Seana made a secret hand signal to each other, and at the same instant, they both reached into their pockets and pulled out their hunting rifles. They then reached into their opposite pockets and pulled out a couple of giant purple dildoes, which were dripping with olive oil.

“We don’t know about cock?” Seana said sassily. “We know way more about purple-headed yoghurt slingers than you ever will!”

And with that, the two women advanced threateningly towards the two men, rifles and dildoes aiming menacingly.

At that point, they heard the exciting sound of the helicopter approaching.

“Stop acting like horses’ patoots,” Dave said disapprovingly. “This is my boss’s helicopter and he is very particular. We are lucky he is even letting us use it.”

The girls reluctantly put their weapons away as the helicopter approached. “We’ll get you yet, dicklickers,” Seana whispered in Greg’s ear.

When the helicopter had landed, the door opened, and a shadowy figure with an elaborate black robe and a pointy black hat with a star on it emerged. The man was obviously a priest of some sort, and everyone was looking at him thinking he looked extremely familiar,

“Greetings, and may the lord be with you all,” said the figure in a booming, almost supernatural-sounding voice. “I am Father Ed, I will be your helicopter pilot for today.”

Emily finally recognized the man. “It’s…EEEEEEeeeeeeedddd WALLACE!!!!”

“Well, technically yes,” said Father Ed. “But saying my name in that manner is extremely socially inappropriate and disrespectful to the lord. Repent, repent, all your sins. Repent, repent, or God will give you fish fins. Do the best you can, be the best you can be. For if you don’t, God will send his killer bees.”

“Um, okay then,” Seana said sarcastically. “Let’s get this show on the road, we’ve got a job to do. Take us to the yacht.”

They all entered the helicopter and took flight towards the location of the yacht. If all was going well, Billy Bob should have already located Andrea and gotten to work on freeing her.




Chapter 10

Bilby and Philsee landed Tom’s helicopter on the deck of his yacht. Already, they could see Gita, or G-Spot, approaching them menacingly. It looked as if she was about to pull a large weapon out of her pocket. Quickly, they got out of the helicopter.

“Hey, G-Spot. How’s it going?” Bilby asked her cheerfully.

“Oh, it’s you two. I thought it was the fucktard.” G-Spot looked kind of disappointed. “Hey, where is he, anyway? I needed to uh- discuss something with him.”

“Well, he’s otherwise occupied at the moment. Can we help?” Philsee wandered over to the edge of the deck, while Bilby tiptoed behind G-Spot towards a bright pink door labeled “Secret Lair”.

“Depends. If you fucking COCKSUCKERS stop sneaking around behind my back, trying to get into places you don’t belong, then maybe I’ll want to talk to you!” Suddenly, Gita pulled a bazooka out of her pocket and pointed it at them.

“Shit,” Philsee breathed.

Bilby just sighed. They really didn’t have the time for this nonsense. “G-Spot, there is a woman in trouble. Your boss hasn’t been treating her very well. We need to rescue her. She used to be your friend.”

“That was a long time ago. She’s with Mr. Cruise now. She thinks she’s too good for me. Why should I give a flying fuck?” Gita snarled.

“Is there anything we could do to make it worth your while?” Bilby demanded.

Gita thought for a moment. “Could you possibly give me that chopper?”

“It’s yours.” Bilby took a step towards the doorway.

“Hold on, that’s not all. There is another woman on this boat who needs to be rescued. If you guys are planning on releasing Warner, you have to free Katie, too. I want to take her far away from that psychopath. Release her, give us a head start and then you can get Warner out of here.” Gita waved the bazooka threateningly. “Those are my demands.”

Bilby exchanged a look with Philsee, who shrugged. “Okay, G-Spot. We’ll help you out. Where is she?”

Gita looked relieved. She put the bazooka back in her pocket. “Follow me.” She strode over to the pink door and opened it. Bilby and Philsee followed her. It was dark. They went down a flight of stairs.

Philsee squealed as a rat climbed up his leg. “Bilby, save me!”

Bilby shook his head and picked Philsee up. He cradled his partner in his arms as he followed Gita through the mechanical room. They trailed Gita through a maze of pipes and machinery for what seemed like an eternity. Finally they reached a large steel gate that reminded Bilby of the door to a bank vault. “I don’t know the combination.” Gita gruffly expositioned.

“Well, how the hell are we supposed to get through that?” Philsee asked, clutching Bilby’s neck.

Bilby unceremoniously dropped him on the floor. “Like this.” He pulled a few sticks of dynamite out of his pocket and struck a match against the sole of his boot. “G-Spot, you’d better take cover.”

Gita screamed and ran around a corner.

Bilby put the dynamite up against the door handle and waited for the explosion. A searing blast of flames momentarily engulfed both Bilby and Philsee, but they stood their ground. The door disintegrated like a sand castle overcome with ocean waves.

Gita emerged from around the corner. She looked shocked to see Bilby and Philsee still standing, limbs intact, although their colourful costumes were slightly blackened, like Cajun catfish. “How did you guys survive that?” she asked in awe.

“We’re not simple actors/ bounty hunters.” Bilby grumbled.

“We’re superheroes!” Philsee piped up cheerfully.

“Enough chitter chatter!!.” Bilby snapped. “Lead on, G-Spot!”

Gita scrambled through the remnants of the door and they entered a beautiful chamber. It was painted gold and there were at least a dozen crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. At the centre of the room, there was a round bed. A beautiful, yet emaciated young woman was lounging on the bed with a strange device shoved up her nose. Bilby knew that it was the same contraption that Andrea had shoved up her own nose at this very moment. She had a dazed expression on her face, and she seemed to barely notice the strange crew that had entered her bedroom.

“Katie-boo!!! Noooo!” Gita howled as she ran over to the bed. “She’s got the Mushy-Mushy!!” Gita ripped the device out Katie’s nose. “Speak to me baby! I’m going to kill that assmunch! How dare he do this to you.”

Katie moaned, and her eyes fluttered open. “Gita, is that you my love? Are you coming to take me away?”

“Yes, dear. I got a helicopter for us.” Gita gathered Katie in her arms. “You will finally be free from that horrible beast. We’ll be poor, but we’ll be ok.”

“Gita, I know his bank account numbers. Before he Mushy-Mushyed me, I was able to get online and transfer his assets to an offshore bank account.”

“Yee-HAW!!!!! Gita threw Katie up in the air and caught her. “Let’s get the fuck out of here! See ya, suckas!” Gita ran out of the room, cackling.

“Not so fast.” Bilby raised his left hand a bright blue light shot out of his palm. Gita froze.

“Hey, jizzwad! Lemme go!” Gita screamed.

“Not until you tell me where Andrea is. That was the deal, buttplug.” Bilby growled.

“Okay, okay. Go through the purple door, and you’ll find her, I give you my word as a thug of the street. Now, let us go before it’s too late.”

“Fine. If you lied to me, I will know where to find you.” Bilby released Gita and Katie from the mysterious hold of his icy blue ray. They hastily ran away.

“Ok, let’s find that purple door. We have a woman to save. A goddess. The most incredible woman who walked the face of this earth…”Bilby murmured to himself. Even though he had never met Andrea Warner, she had intoxicated him. He suspected he was falling in love with her. He had to rescue her, so that his life would be complete!




Chapter 11

Andrea wasn't sure what was happening. She kept drifting in and out of consciousness. When she was awake, she could only vaguely see her surroundings. The floor of the room appeared to be covered in some kind of pink foam, and the walls were covered with Tom's movie posters. Top Gun, Cocktail, Mission Impossible, Days of Thunder. The terrifying thing - besides his shark-like teeth - was that the eyes of the posters were all bright yellow and they appeared to move around the room, watching her. It was very creepy.

Her nose was extremely uncomfortable, and it had gotten to the point where she preferred to be unconscious rather than to have to feel the excruciating pain in her nostrils. Right now she was having a dream about Tom. She was in what looked like a large circus tent, and she was hanging upside down by her ankles. She was naked, but her body was covered in some kind of lube or slime. Tom was standing before her, his beautiful purple dingle bobbing in and out of her upside-down mouth. He was also stroking her whole body with what appeared to be a giant pink feather-duster. He was speaking in a soft, seductive voice.

"Minion of the moon, you will be mine. Goddess of Galapagos, you will be my slave. Angel of my Anus, you will be my scientology slave."

And as he said this, his voice turned from soft and sensual to growling and threatening. All of a sudden, the feather duster turned into the head of a demon, and it was biting Andrea all over her body. She looked and saw that the slime that was covering her had turned into a million leeches, crawling all over her skin and sucking her blood. The penis, which was still bobbing in and out of her mouth, suddenly turned into a rattlesnake, and it let out a grotesque rattle as it bit her tongue out.

"AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!! Help me!!!!!!!" Andrea yelled as she woke up. And when she regained consciousness, she was looking into the deepest, most sensual pair of eyes she had ever seen. The owner of the eyes was ripping something out of her nose. "Ouch! What's going on?"

"We're rescuing you," said the enthralling man standing in front of her. He was holding a huge device covered in snot. "That madman Tom Cruise had this Mushy-Mushy up your nose, drugging you so that you would be his scientology slave." The man then began licking the snot off the device and moaning passionately.

Andrea was appalled. But, she also noticed, she was slightly sexually aroused. Then she took another look at the man. "You're Billy Bob Thornton!!!!!!" she yelled. She could not look away from his beautiful, kind eyes.

"You can call me Bilby, and this is my assistant Philsee," He said, pointing at the figure behind him. And slowly, Bilby's charismatic, handsome face approached Andrea's, and they kissed, slowly, and then more passionately. Andrea now knew what real love was. She could not believe what a fool she had been to fall into Tom's trap. "Bilby, thank you so much for rescuing me. I don't know what would have happened without you."

"Well don't just thank me," he said. "Some of your friends helped too. Let's get you out of here, and they should be on the upper deck by now with a chopper to take us all away from this ship of doom."

Bilby picked Andrea up with one arm, and Philsee with the other arm, and started up the stairwell to the upper deck. He could hear the hum of a helicopter and he knew that was a good sign. When they got to the top of the stairs, Emily, Seana, Dave, Greg and Mikey were there, waiting anxiously.

"Oh, thank god you're alright," they all said in unison, and they all started hugging Andrea.

"Let's continue this reunion on the chopper, we need to get out of here," said Bilby.

"Not so fast," said an ominous voice behind them. There was a figure standing in the shadows wearing white pants with puke-green polka dots. The pants were worn high over a protruding belly.

"High-Pants, is that you?" asked Dave. "You said I could use the chopper...uh, we need to get off this boat, and quick!"

High-Pants' mouth formed into a grotesque and evil-looking grin. "You pissants aren't going anywhere," he growled. He then pulled a large metal contraption out of his pocket. "This is an A-bomb, and it's going to go off in 10 seconds. Say goodbye to the world, suckers!"




Chapter 12

Everyone was shocked and somewhat appalled by HP's news. He cackled evilly as he showed them the remote control in his hand. "Yes, you slimeballs, one push of this button and you will all have exactly one minute to say your prayers before you all get blown to bits, and your carcass pieces will rain down on all of Vancouver Island!!!" His belly shook violently as he doubled over with laughter. It was somewhat grotesque.

"Mini-Clit! Father Ed! Come here! I want you to prepare the chopper for immediate take-off!" Father Ed and Mini--Clit scurried over to the chopper. The wind from the rotating helicopter blades whipped everyone's hair into lovely afros.

"Now, fools, you will die! Without Bilby and Philsee to foil my dastardly plots, I will be free to rule the world!!!!!" With that, HP pressed the button on his remote control. He ran over to the helicopter and tried to open the door, but it was locked. "Let me in, you idiots!" he pounded on the glass. Father Ed simply shook his head and pulled a lever on the helicopter control panel and the aircraft lifted off the deck of the yacht. HP tried to hold on, but he was not strong enough. He fell to the deck with a thud. "Well, at least if I'm going down, it's good to know you dinkuses will be going down with me!!!"

"Well, don't be so sure about that." Bilby turned to Philsee. "It's time to use your new powers."

Philsee nodded. "I'm ready."

Bilby pulled a magic wand out of his pocket and waved it over Philsee's head. "Abracadabra, tellybopper, turn this man into a helicopter!!!" And with that incantation, something very strange began to happen. Philsee's body contracted in a ball of purple goo, envelopped in a cloud of smoke. Seconds later, the smoke cleared and Philsee had indeed turned into a purple and flesh coloured helicopter. Philsee's face was strategically placed above the windshield of well, himself. "Come on everybody! Get in!"

Everyone scrambled inside of the Philseecopter. It was surprisingly soft and comfortable. Greg and Mikey couldn't believe their good luck. Their fantasies were coming true. They began masturbating vigorously, because the thought of being inside Philsee's body was so arousing.

"Everyone's accounted for! Pedal to the metal, Philsee!" Bilby exclaimed.

"Roger, that." Philsee replied and the Philseecopter lifted off with surprising speed. Bilby looked down and he could see HP standing on the deck of the yacht, shaking his fist at them as they flew away.

"You haven't seen the last of High-Pants Dingleberry!!!!!!!!!!!!" he shouted. "I will haunt you for the rest of your lives! My ghost will never rest!"

"Oh, shut the fuck up!" Dave yelled. He pulled a live grenade out of his pocket and threw it down at HP. His aim couldn't have been better. The grenade landed in HP's mouth, and seconds later he literally exploded, spraying guts and other bodily fluids all over the Philseecopter.

"Oh, no! Now I'll have to get my costume dry-cleaned!" Philseecopter wailed.

"Come on, let's get moving." Bilby growled. He hugged Andrea tightly.

Philseecopter increased his altitude. They all watched as Tom Cruise's yacht exploded into smithereens.

"Well, that's what I call a happy ending!" Emily exclaimed proudly.

Everyone cheered.

THE END (or is it?)

Check back for further devlopments of this grand and wonderful literary masterpiece....