Barbarian King
Page 17
down you mongrel dog.”
The third stooge strangely understood and dropped his weapon, however, stopped short of crying out for mercy when the eyes of his wild, wooly face froze in terror before dropping to his knees. In that instant something had caught the eye of this backwoods man.
“No, no hit I,” pleaded the groveling man-beast.
BamaOay wondered if it was the sight of him standing, metal club in hand that had terrified the third brigand, or something else. Having people kneeling at one’s feet was, however, something that he liked; it reminded him of the fawning media back home. This cave dweller supplicating himself before him was a very agreeable sign.
The beggar raised his head pointing at the driver saying something that sounded like, “You B’jackass!” Bowing his head the hairy man repeated, “You B’jackass!”
Now, the bearded wench began to stir, mumbling she asked, as her brain waves began to sluggishly respond, “What happen me?”
She craned her neck from the ground to glance at the warrior with big, shiny club.
“Look Pile Driver, he got mark,” spouted the survivor pointing to the head of the golf club. “He B’jackass!”
Crawling to her knees she strained to see in the growing light where her second baby maker was pointing.
“Oh, he do...he do got!”
They both began chanting softly, “B’jackass...B’jackass...”
Both supplicating themselves at his feet, the President wondered just how much better things could get.
“B’jackass...what does that mean?”
“B’jackass...”
“B’jackass...”
“Shut your holes!” he demanded, then looked at where the two idiots were pointing, at the head of his driver. His hair prickled at the nape of his neck, the carved symbol with the outline of a donkey, his party’s emblem.
“The jackass,” he whispered to himself, “the jackass that old fart had finger drawn onto the golf club. The jackass must be like some kind of symbol to these primitive apes, the same symbol my party uses. Could there be a correlation? Could my being the leader of the Democrat Party back home make me the ‘B’jackass’ here?’”
He looked more closely at the face of the fuzzy-faced cavewoman...
“Shit!” he declared between clenched teeth.
The thing called ‘Pile Driver,’ resembled House Speaker Nancy ElosiPay!
“Shit!”
He now took a closer look at the cave dweller groveling at his feet then whispered. “Holy shit! That dork looks a lot like Al OreGay!”
“What name?” insisted the President.
“Who me?” answered the OreGay lookalike.
“Yes, you dope,” snarled the club-wielding conqueror.
“Me called Stinker.”
“She name Pile Driver?” asked the President pointing to the ElosiPay lookalike with his hand.
“Yes, she name Pile Driver.”
BamaOay looked down at the man knocked out cold and laying face down at his feet, who could he be?
“What he name...Stinker?” asked the President, pointing now at the sprawled out cave dweller.
“He name B. O., Master.”
BamaOay nudged the knocked-out urchin over with his staff. B.O. resembled the Senate leader Harry EidRay.
“Shit!”
These backward threesome looked like the dickheads of his Party in some way, shape, manner, or form; only these three looked a little more intelligent. Why were they here? Was there some connection between their lives in the 3rd Dimension and here? ElosiPay, after all, had lost the House by getting caught saying too many stupid vacuous things in public. EidRay had lost the Senate because he lacked any sort of personality and sounded like a mouse on the stage. As for OreGay, he had an inept way of perpetually selecting dates and locations for Global Warming conferences...whenever record cold temperatures struck, usually exasperated by blizzards.
Was that why these dickheads had ended up here? Was this purgatory for liberals, or was it something else?
Earliest Ancestors?
The Hollywood Post-Chronicle-Tribune-Times - Investigators have called in the Atlantic Fleet, the Coast Guard, the Seventh Fleet and all military aircraft along the eastern seaboard to search the Atlantic Ocean for the whereabouts of Candidate IllaryHay Clinton and President BamaOay. “Steps have been taken to widen the search for our missing President and the Presidential candidate to include the entire Bermuda Triangle,” said White House spokesman Jay-Bob ArneyCay today in the White House Press Room. “It has been days now since the two went missing. So far every rock, every trailer park, every swamp has been searched from top to bottom to uncover their whereabouts on land without success. Investigators are now turning their attention to the only remaining place they could be...floating around somewhere in the million square miles of the Bermuda Triangle.”
IllaryHay caught her breath starting up to a sitting position. The cracking of branches had caught her ear.
“Who’s there!” she shouted. In a sudden panic she opened her lips to cry out, but then checked herself. The shadow of a man, a bestial man began to emerge from the forest surroundings. She looked more closely: skinny legs, bald, big ears, was it the President? The face of the figure grew distinct as she stared on and it was the sight of his face that froze the screech of terror in her throat. It was BamaOay...the President!
Now she made out several stooping figures with high piled masses of stringy, unkempt hair trailing closely behind the central figure that was the President. She began to make out their features, surprised to see some similarities with those she knew back at the capitol in spite of their dirt-covered, ignorant, blank-looking faces.
"Earth Mother," gasped IllaryHay, "am I seeing things?"
Appallingly this was not a dream as the President now spoke, his voice like honeyed liqueur to her ears.
"Seeing things? No Princess, look who I have found!"
She stared in stupefied amazement at the three primal looking people unable to grasp the significance of their presence, dimly remembering all the inexplicable that had occurred, so far.
"Is that Al OreGay?" stammered a bewildered IllaryHay. "Is that Al OreGay all dressed up in some kind of costume?"
"No, but he does look a lot like Albert OreGay and look here...this dame looks a lot like Nancy ElosiPay...and this fellow seems to resemble Harry EidRay, as well."
"What in the world is going on?” she asked convinced she was in the grip of some even more disturbing dream.
“As far as I can tell they live around here and have done so for as long as they can remember.” He continued, “We must be in that alternative universe Saul had mentioned and if true could only mean you and I are really hosed.”
"You’re crazy!" The accusation was spat from between her snarling pale lips as her face convulsed.
“No, I am serious, just think about it for a moment,” he replied.
IllaryHay went suddenly quiet, her facial expression was that of utter stunned unhappiness at the prospect. “But, if true, it would mean I’ll miss my coronation!” she replied with horror etched upon her features.
“Oh enough of this mummery! B.O. go help my companion get to her feet.”
The prehistoric man nodded he understood and hobbled over to IllaryHay’s side adding, “Yes B’jackass, but no bang I with stick.”
She gasped as the manlike aberration came closer, “Earth Mother, it is EidRay! He won’t bite will he?”
“No, I think he is safe. These lowlifes think I am their King, the ‘B’jackass.’”
“B’jackass...B’jackass!” chanted Pile Driver with a murmuring, subservient tone.
“B’jackass...B’jackass!” stammered Stinker, likewise, with an obedient quality.
Stopping in stride B.O. also in a subservient tone chimed in with the mindless chanting, “B’jackass...B’jackass.”
“Yes...yes...I know, I’m the B’jackass,” responded the President. “
B.O., go pick up IllaryHay.”
“Yes, Master.”
As B.O. approached, and like the President earlier in this tale, the OreGay look-a-like’s fierce dark eyes burned with a light any woman could understand as they ran over IllaryHay's glorious figure lingering on the minor swells of her splendid little bosoms beneath her now-stained white blouse. Grinning with teeth missing, eyes transfixed on those fun bags of hers, the primordial primitive quickly forgot his place.
“Can me play with later?”
IllaryHay crouched on the ground, her huge brawny legs flexed, both seen and unseen beneath the dirty pantsuit, staring wide-eyed at the animalism posed disgustingly before her. It was as if she gazed upon another creature, identical to the Arizona Senator in every contour of feature and limb save for his height and all the hair, covered in skins and using near incomprehensible diction. The face of this street urchin reflected the opposite of every characteristic the countenance of the Senate Minority Leader possessed. Lust and some slight sign of intelligence sparkled in his glossy eyes, desire lurked just below the surface as evidenced by his rising prominence. Each movement of her supple body was subtly suggestive to this primitive Harry eidRay, her slight mustache like that of the Amazon, Pile Driver, seemed to turn him on even more.
“You good baby maker,” remarked B.O. the primitive just before struggling to help this eye candy to her feet.
Puffing for breath he added once she had been pulled to her feet, “You plump, too.”
IllaryHay shrieked in her icy, chilling, shrill voice normally reserved for her husband, “Screech!!! What the hell did you just say?"
Pile