long enough to catch her breath.
“Wait!” he shouted pleading, his hands still covering his ears.
Her siren-like screeching came again full blast upon the scene, another uncivilized, primordial, ear shattering, unhinged shrieking.
“No, wait,” BamaOay yelled, “it me...the President!”
As if by magic she stopped!
“What that putrid smell?”
She screamed again with fright, fury, chagrin and lashed out in frustration with a kick at BamaOay, but only succeeded in striking empty air.
“Me serious...me the President.”
“Me not care! Me...‘gag’ me can’t breathe!”
“It go away soon,” he explained, waving his hands about in an attempt to disperse his foulness.
Her breathing came pantingly and she continued to hold her nose closed. At least she was quiet. She choked while attempting to say something, “You not dat skinny sissy.”
Seconds passed as he awaited for a response from his smaller, more-barbarian brain. He eventually replied cheerfully, “Me change!”
IllaryHay’s eyes began to grow as she started to make out more clearly her situation. Her narrowed eyes beheld her surroundings and in those half-open orbs she showed neither signs of happiness, nor thankfulness to be alive; she peered only as a foreigner might with the bewilderment of someone whose eyes are filled with the sight of Shangri La for their first time.
She caught sight of the President, now realizing that the skinny weakling had indeed changed.
“Holy crap!” her eyes flashed as she surveyed the new him. She was both repulsed and a bit terrified by the spectacle of the primitive man standing before her. She noticed BamaOay had become a real honest-to-goodness barbarian, but had also retained some of the qualities of the original wimp. She noticed his big ears were still there, as was his close-cropped hairdo, and he now sported a sandblasted bald spot on top of his noodle. He was still carrying that women’s oversized driver, with belly bag hanging from his hip, and wearing cleated Oxfords. The guy still wore those Anglo plaid shorts and that name brand, white golf shirt. Other than his skinny legs, everything else about him had, however, completely refashioned...for the better. His top-heavy bodybuilder physique, his long, knuckle-dragging arms, and Troglodyte-like facial features...the creature could now pass for her old teenage heartthrob, The Hulk. On the downside, she noticed the President now sported a single brow running from one temple of his blockish looking head to the other and acting as a sort of sunshade for his deeply set baby browns.
She laughed, grinning wide with a tooth missing, “What happen you?”
A couple of seconds passed, before the President responded. “Yes, it me,” he grinned, then adding, “Do favor, no more screaming. Hurt ears. Drive mad.”
Not clear on what he had said, she disregarded his mangled speech and only set about trying to rise to her feet.
“You hot now,” he beamed, smiling ear to ear.
Hot? Nobody, I mean like nobody had ever referred to her as being hot looking...not even her husband.
“Hot, what mean? What me look like,” she asked, a little concerned that, she too, might have changed like her companion.
A couple moments passed, before he responded with some chuckling, “Well, you cuddly and fuzzy now.”
“Shit,” she exclaimed, as she quickly began touching her face, “impossible, me just waxed!”
More seconds passed, then... “Got dark roots, too!”
“Shut hole, that enough!”
Tick...tock...tick...tock
“Okay...okay, just no scream.”
“Say, why time delay?”
Tick...tock...tick...tock
“Time delay?”
“...And why you talk like stupid now?”
Later. “You talk stupid, too!”
“No, me not,” she responded, heatedly.
The two sounded like a couple of morons talking in some sort of uneducated, left-wing dialect.
Seconds later, BamaOay was also beginning to get a little pissed off, “Yes, do!”
“No, not!”
“Wait, what I just say?”
IllaryHay suddenly had an epiphany, Wait a second, is the dick head right?
Moments later, the hairy hunk pressed on with the argument of some time past, “You say, ‘No, not!’”
“Wait,” she gasped, “you right, we both talk like stupids, but why for?”
Tick, tock...
“I change,” he answered, with a dumb looking smile, “you change, we...”
“Me know that brainless numbskull, but why?”
Tick, tock...
“Me not brainless...you dumbass!” he snapped, almost immediately.
“No me not! You stupid!” she heatedly responded.
Both morphed liberals were understanding one another perfectly, even though they were talking like Neanderthals, even though their diction and grammar were somewhere below a kindergarten level. With time their exchanges were becoming more intelligible between one another.
“Okay, what do you mean?” BamaOay asked with a questioning gaze.
“I asked you why you think we’ve changed?”
Ball Buster
The Jacksonville Post, Journal, Times - Intense thunderstorms and tornadoes swept through the southeast this afternoon causing damage over a widespread area. At least six Brunswick locals were injured when their trailer park took a direct hit leveling a half-a-dozen trailers. Local authorities are still flummoxed and trying to piece together where several trailers went. The owners said they just disappeared into the sky.
Jethro-Bob, Democrat, told reporters, “Dad-burned that tornadie just took my trailer...like a goddamn Frisbee! I was watching The Price is Right next door at Sue-Bob’s. I heard a ruckus and looked out the window. One second my trailer and pickup truck were there, the next moment they went flying away in that damn tornadie!”
IllaryHay attempted to rise unsuccessfully to her feet.
“Here, let me help you up,” BamaOay offered, his mighty, powerful hands grabbing her by the arms, but the top-heavy, brawny giant then tipped over. Losing his footing whilst attempting to wrench the wench to her feet, he fell full upon her into open waiting arms. They embraced one another as lovers might.
“Get off me you pig!” she screeched.
“I’m trying,” he bellowed back.
“Shut up, just get off! God almighty, have you got a boner?”
“Okay, okay already...I’m getting up. Gee whiz.”
Pushing himself to all fours he straddled her a bit too long for her liking, but was indeed in the process of attempting to dismount her bountiful girth when her knee came slamming hard and with some insistence into his groin. He let slip with a harsh groan of pain, “Owww!” and fell again, roughly full upon her sprawled-out, glorified body.
The two looked like they were in the act of some serious, sort of bestial lovemaking soiree with the now prehistoric-looking, liberal broad squirming beneath the gargantuan bulk of his gigantic hulk. His squat, muscular head, his hairy, sculpted arms and his ripped torso lay lifeless and outstretched upon the shrieking damsel, while his scrawny legs flailed about aimlessly, as if nervously awaiting the next blow. She struggled about in the two-sided wrestling match. This was not any sort of sex escapade, but a life and death effort to rid oneself of the other with the President now looking like he was humping her.
She screamed and threw all her hardy middle age strength into trying to buck the beast off to gain her freedom, but her companion now caught her arms and held them like a child’s crushing her frantic resistance with ease. The silence with which her frenzied pleas and protests were received added to her terror as she felt herself being manhandled by someone who was way more powerful, way more muscular, way stronger than she could have ever imagined...and he ultimately succeeded in taming this shrew pinning IllaryHay to the ground before sliding gingerly off.
Panting and spitting ful
l of fury, he at last pushed himself from all fours to his feet, arms outstretched to steady himself.
“You won’t try that again,” she puffed once freed of his mighty bulk. “I don’t know what came over you...was that your wanker?”
Rubbing his gonads gingerly, his once prone projection was no longer evident, but had gone into hiding.
“If that was a boner,” she laughed in a baritone, manlike tone when she sat up, again. “I’d hate to be in your shoes if I was any kind of man.”
He responded harshly and with vehemence, “You didn’t have to rack me in the balls you goddamn bitch...I was trying to jump off you.”
Typical of her natural disdain for men, she ignored his protests.
She rubbed her eyes again, then looked around at her immediate surroundings blurting out, “This can’t be right? This isn’t beachfront property. This looks more like the Swiss Alps...and why is everything rose-colored? Are my eyes playing tricks on me?”
“No, I don’t think so, because I’m seeing the same things.”
“This has got to be a dream,” she whimpered. “Wait, where is that redneck bungalow?”
“Over there,” he said pointing off in the direction of what looked like a largely-intact, shingled roof resting on a pile of lumber and the remains of a broken, brick chimney.
“What...what the hell kind of dream is this?” She looked on stunned, continuing, “The thing is I feel normal, but just look at you...you’ve really changed. Say, why do you still have the same puny little legs and what are you doing with your arms?”
“Well, as you noticed I am a slight bit top heavy.”
She ignored his remarks, instead giving a slight cry of amazement when she looked about,
Barbarian King Page 10
