Barbarian King

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Barbarian King Page 14

by Frank B. Thompson III

BamaOay’s skin. “Absolutely, besides you drink Mimosas don’t you?”

  “I don’t care, I’m calling those things Mimosas.”

  “Whatever, you bone head.”

  “I’m not a bone head...you’re a bone head!”

  “No I’m not...you are!”

  And so, the two wayfarers bickered between themselves as they wandered about the forest looking for more of those tasty, magical apples. A greater part of the early afternoon was spent pulling, then stuffing those apples, that did indeed look as if a butt crack ran down one side, into their pie holes and completely forgetting the creatures in the woods with teeth.

  Scientists had long ago postulated that primordial guys and primitive gals, both Neanderthals and Troglodytes had suffered from some minor afflictions due to their smallish brains, as evidenced by their itty-bitty brainpans, with short-term memory being the thing Mother Nature sacrificed.

  First assuaging their hunger, then thirst, then getting more than a little wasted; these things delayed both in their decisions of what to do next, but did not stop BamaOay’s guardian angel, Saul, from coming back upon the scene.

  Off to the north the horizon was growing thick and dark, again. Lightening began to dance from a storm that seemed to pop up from out of nowhere.

  The roar of thunder now came to ear.

  “Hey, look!”

  BamaOay turned wobbly to see the approaching of menacing, “Not again!”

  “Is that storm coming our way?” she asked, concern now etched on her features.

  A moment later another sudden thunder strike shuddered through the heavens above and it was utterly unlike ordinary lightning in ferocity. Instantly following the thunder clap a voice arrived as a whisper on a breeze, “Barbariannnn...”

  “What was that?” he mumbled to himself, unsure of what he had just heard. The rumblings reminded the President of something. “Have you ever seen the movie, the Wizard of Oz?” he asked.

  “Yes, I thinks so,” IllaryHay replied, stuttering with a drug-induced smile.

  BamaOay responded with a dumbfounded gaze, clearly he was feeling buzzed.

  “What are you trying to say you jagoff?” she was becoming angry at his open display of ignorance.

  “Duh, oh yea, right. Anyway you do recall that wizard in the story.”

  “Oz?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “What?”

  “Idiot!”

  “Oh, right...Oz,” he suddenly forgot the original point in his conversation.

  “So what the Hell are you...” she didn’t finish, something had caught the damsel’s eye. Next moment, leaping like a frog, she pounced on the harmless lizard; it had remained stationary a bit too long on a nearby boulder sunning itself.

  “Gotcha!”

  Dispatching the thing’s head with her teeth she nonchalantly picked up where the two had left off. “So, what about the Wizard?”

  BamaOay admired how she easily skinned the critter with her teeth before replying, “Well, it just so happens that I ran into a wizard last night.”

  “Give me a break?” she responded sarcastically before biting off more lizard and chewing it like a cowboy might chew beef jerky.

  “I’m not sure it was a dream, but you won’t believe who the Wizard of Oz was, it was Saul...Saul Alinskyway.”

  “Saul Alinskyway,” she paused, “Mmmm....chewy. So, you’re saying a guy that’s been dead decades was part of some dream you had last night?”

  “Yes, and it seemed so real.”

  “Go on, what did he have to say?”

  “He mentioned a mission, a mission to conquer and rend nonbelievers; a people who do not look normal and have got big, round heads....with no sun visors.”

  She paused a moment glancing at the lizard then adding, “Damn, I’d kill someone for a little salt right now. Just the same, people without sun visors doesn’t make any sense. Are we talking baseball caps?”

  For a moment the President was also perplexed by what the Wizard meant, but then remembered looking at his mirrored image in the pool, then studied the contours of his partner’s skull for a moment. “Wait a second.”

  “What?”

  “I hadn’t noticed it before...”

  “What?”

  “...but we do have a single, protruding eyebrow running across our foreheads.”

  “So...”

  “Don’t you see.”

  “No, what?”

  “It’s a sun visor of sorts.”

  “OMG! You’re right! I hadn’t noticed it before, but we do have unibrows and much smaller craniums.”

  “See, I told you.”

  “It means we’re smarter, right?” she asked, startled by the revelation.

  “Of course, superior in every way.”

  “Thank goodness, what else did Saul say?”

  “He said we would need to defeat our large-headed enemies of this world...and something about eating them.”

  BamaOay purposely left out the part about never returning home, only to see her ascend the throne of the presidency.

  “Eat them?”

  “Yes, that’s what the wizard said.”

  “This is all such bullshit, we’re not cannibals.”

  From the north and not too far away there was a sudden, brilliant flash followed moments later by the sharp clap of thunder.

  Boom!

  The President, ignoring the growing storm and only looking at her munching on the half-eaten lizard, adding, “Are you sure?”

  Another flash of lightning quickly followed by another sharp clap of thunder...only it seemed a lot closer.

  Crack!

  This time BamaOay heard a formless murmuring of his new name upon the wind.

  “Barbariannnn...”

  Another, closer clap of thunder was rapidly followed by another wind-whispered mumbling: a dry, raspy, muttering murmuring that sent chills up the President’s spine.

  “Barbariannnn...”

  “Did you hear that?” BamaOay asked, in a semi-terrified voice.

  Boom!

  IllaryHay jumped, “Holy crap that was close, we need to get the hell out of here!”

  “Barbariannnn...”

  BamaOay stood motionless, dumbfounded. “He’s calling out to me, Saul is calling out to me from out of the depths of darkness!”

  “No, it’s just thunder.”

  “No, it’s the wizard, I swear he’s calling me.”

  IllaryHay turned cold at the possibility, “Come on, we’re going to get wet.”

  “Barbariannnn...”

  “There it is again!” whispered the President to himself.

  “Gooo south barbariannnn...”

  “I hear you master, but you’re mumbling?”

  “Are you talking to yourself?”

  A period of breathless silence followed in which the pitter patter of BamaOay’s heart beat was all that he could hear.

  “How many of those butt cracks have you had?”

  Boom! “Gooo south barbariannnn...”

  What was the guy in the pointy hat saying? the President asked himself, his senses heightened to their utmost.

  “Come on you dolt, let’s get going,” cried out IllaryHay, in the rising tempest. “This is just what happened with that tornado!”

  “Shut up! I’m trying to hear what the wizard is saying.” The hullabaloo had left the Barbarian bit deaf. “All I hear is the howling of the wind.”

  Whoosh!

  “Saul, what are you trying to say?”

  “Go south!”

  “Can you repeat the first part?”

  Boom!

  This strike struck not fifty yards away sending a large electrical discharge through the huge, corded muscles of the President.

  “He’s telling us to go south you idiot,” screamed IllaryHay.

  A howling tempest followed her words with a formless voice screaming, “Go south!”

  Boom! Crack!
/>   BamaOay’s Life’s Story

  The Los Angeles Post-Chronicle-Tribune-Times - Search by the Secret Service, the FBI, the CIA and a dozen other government departments and agencies have discovered what they believe might be a clue to the disappearance of IllaryHay Clinton. A secret love letter from an anonymous admirer was discovered in the luggage of the Presidential Candidate. Forensics by eight of the investigative teams have decided the handwriting matches that of political consultant Jimmy ArvilleCay. Six of the investigative teams think the handwriting matches that of TV personality, Barbara AltersWay. One remaining investigative team from the Department of Agriculture have come up with a different theory of who the author could be...the President himself.

  The two set about at a trot. Holding hands, ungainly as it was, they traipsed, stumbled and fell occasionally as they ran south along the lava road; the lightning followed them as if intent on driving them to some unforeseen destination and eventually their mad stampede had carried them a safe distance away. The roadway was roughly surfaced and made plodding along difficult, especially for the President with his cleated shoes, skinny legs and top heaviness. He often tripped when his cleats got caught anchoring his feet momentarily, which in combination with his long-legged, stork-like strides inevitably led to more than a few tumbles. Only the mass of his hard-bodied physique saved him severe injury; that and the mind-numbing, butt crack apples that grew alongside the lava flow.

  IllaryHay, who was as dimensionally bottom heavy as the President was top heavy, simply lumbered on trying not to trip as she got use to walking with her newfound, Hobbit-like tootsies.

  Frequently, the two stumbled along together, but thanks to the hypnotic fruits, happily! They would fall to the ground laughing, then taking anywhere from several to thirty-minutes to regain their feet. Thankfully the President was now having some success in tugging the Amazon to her feet; he found he had less difficulty getting to his feet once from all fours. Eventually, after dusting themselves off,

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