Barbarian King
Page 18
Driver promptly began howling fiercely slapping her flat chest joining in with IllaryHay’s primordial screaming...
A-ieee!
Stinker now started howling, also pounding his chest.
Ar’rooff!
Then B.O. joined in with his own version of histrionic hooting, but pounded his head and not chest.
Hoo...hoo...hoo...hoo!
The debutante had unwittingly set off some sort of Pavlovian response in these primitives.
Pile Driver pressed on with her primordial howling...
A-ieee!
B.O. preserved with his primeval hooting...
Hoo...hoo...hoo...hoo!
Stinker soldiered on with his baying cries...
Ar’rooff...ar’rooff!
Their screaming, howling and baying like animals was unexpectedly answered by the howling, baying and screeching of animals from afar. BamaOay had to cover his ears with hands trying to muffle the tumult of primordial wailing. Bawling like a pack of wild coyotes, Pile Driver, Stinker and B.O.’s calls were being answered by other demented souls in the distance.
IllaryHay, for her part, felt as if a stifling net of bewilderment had been drawn about her. "Who are you morons?" she yelled aloud, her scintillant eyes burning like the dark fires of Hell. "What madness is this?"
BamaOay now added his own callous yelling, “That is enough...you dolts!”
BamaOay could not be heard over their abounding animal-like bellowing.
“Shut up I said!”
The bearded female stopped her baying falling to her knees in supplication and set about chanting, again.
Stinker, too, dropped to his knees barking out the same chant.
“B’jackass, B’jackass,” chanted B.O. after also falling to his knees.
"Shut up you dickwads!” screamed the President.
Losing Their Minds?
The Boston Post-Chronicle-Tribune-Times - A mad rush has descended upon the capitol as news that search parties have come up with little in the way of evidence on the whereabouts of both Presidential contender Illaryhay of the Clintons and President BamaOay. Already there is speculation that the worst may have happened, that Veep Joe-Bob may, by default, would become the forty-fifth something President of the country.
Politicians up on the Hill and state legislatures are scrambling to come up with an Amendment to the Constitution; an Amendment that would prevent people with substandard IQs, less than seventy-five, from assuming the post for the highest office in the land.
It was another, another day in paradise and all this time the President, IllaryHay and their newfound companions had been walking along the pathway through thickly growing woods. The road was still paved with yellow lava, but this was much covered by downed tree limbs, moss and piles of dead leaves and the walking was not all that good. Also, something did not feel quite right to the two travelers, not with their surroundings, but with their heads.
"You know there was a time," he said with unconcealed bitterness, "when I, too, had your sort of ambition, but yours strikes me a seemingly tawdry and childish. ‘It is my turn?’ Have things fallen that far!”
"You laid your trust in your voice and the media," she answered carelessly. "I trust my gender and my husband."
“Your husband? You really don’t mean that do you?”
“I know he’s a dickhead,” growled the instantly more unattractive liberal matron, her dark eyes now flickering with menacing lights and shadows. “However, with his popularity and my gender we should have won!"
He thought her words strange, but decided not to get entangled in those details...she was, after all, still carrying that canister of pepper spray.
"Nevertheless," answered the President impatiently, "you wear the stripes of defeat at my hand as if by a whip on your back. Those unseen scars are likely to remain a constant reminder of your defeat at my hand during the election."
"Had I not lost those photos our positions might well be reversed," she snarled back.
“Photos...what photos?”
"The photos used to blackmail me.”
“Blackmail...what?”
“You know, the photos of my hubby getting a blowjob by that harlot Monica.”
“Really? Are you daft? I’ve never seen those photos.”
“Don't talk to me like that!” her fiendish hatred glittered for an instant redly in her eyes. "Someday I, IllaryHay of the Clinton Clan will somehow find whoever it was that took those snapshots and when I do, by the blessings of Earth Mother, they shall pay. Know it well fool that I will find the person who took those pictures...and I will destroy them when I become President! I will look into their eyes and they will weep with fear before I tear them a new poop hole! A new pooper I tell you!"
The by now totally bewildered President had had enough of the wench’s mumblings. Just what had overcome her? He had to make things right, so he leisurely strolled up to her feigning understanding in his sorrowful eyes.
“You poor thing,” he communicated in a friendly voice, then slapped the shit out of her with his mighty hefty, barbarian hand.
She reeled back awakened from the demented dream.
“What...what just happened? Where am I?”
Something weird was taking place, but he could not quite put his finger on just what.
It seemed as if the world around him were changing, becoming more primitive, more prehistoric. The forest had gradually given way to trees the likes of which he had never seen before. The flying critters, too, were gradually becoming more begotten, scarier, more prehistoric looking. It was as if that path were somehow taking them back in time the further along they walked.
“What is happening to us?” she asked, feeling very odd and head beginning to spin.
“Shit, I am feeling the same way!”
The landscape was clearly getting more wonderful to their eyes the farther they trekked. There were many of those sacred Moo Moo Trees and many pretty flowers. The farther they went the more wonderful and rosy the countryside became.
There were fewer flying things in this part of the woods for soaring sauropods love the open country where there is plenty of sunshine and open space. Now and then there came a deep growl of wild animals hidden within the forest. These noises made almost everyone’s heart beat faster for they did not know what to make of them.
IllaryHay walked closer to the President’s side, "How long will it be before we are out of this awful forest?"
BamaOay shrugged his broad hairy shoulders and shook his flat, low-brow head. "I cannot tell for I too have never been in this place.”
The redneck cabin lay somewhere to the north now covered by a blanket of growing Kudzu and surely hidden from view. This motley group had been walking for what seemed forever, but could have easily been just a few hours in the 3rd Dimension. Time seemed to have little meaning here. The air about them, also, now seemed still and quiet.
"Me like B’jackass," said Pile Driver, limerence evident upon her glowing, missing teeth smile and now walking on the other side of BamaOay.
Pile Driver's voice quivered with excitement as her dirty fingernails stroked the President’s mightily, muscled arm. Tanned with straggly black mane, her animal hide garment smelled to high heaven as if the carcass had just been skinned off the creature.
BamaOay stopped for a moment, the annoying Pile Driver also stopping at his side; he looked back down the path to where it vanished among the dense overgrowth. The woods occasionally rustled with a slight breeze; beyond that forest lay the fragments of their original transport to this place, the redneck’s cabin. Far from this place in a totally different world the political animals of his party would be deep in conversation, some laughing, others watching CNN, others like IllaryHay’s hubby would probably be out in one of the local sheds banging away on some underage groupie.
Here is where the President and IllaryHay now found themselves, a place where only starlight would greet them this night, only whisp
ering breezes through the woods would be heard, only the sun or a burning fire would provide light and heat. Other than that the hard lava surface of the path would continue to cause sparks to fly occasionally from his golf shoes; he would continue to catch his cleats on sundry things: rocks, vines, roots, an occasional bare foot. This day was not what was supposed to happen - this was only supposed to have been a three-hour tour...a three-hour tour.
Pile Driver’s grating voice awoke the President from his shallow thoughts.
“B’jackass like Pile Driver?”
The problem for the BamaOay, besides viewing himself as Gitchi Manitou in this 5th, or 6th Dimension, was Pile Driver was missing more teeth than he was used to. She was also as flat as a board, unlike Nancy ElosiPay in the other dimension; someone who had not been able to see her feet standing from age thirteen on. Then there was that shadow of a beard of hers...that was going to be a little tough getting past if any sort of sexual intercourse were to arise between them.
“Did I really imagine that?” murmured the President to himself. On second thought I am starting to feel a little loosened up...a bit more liberated.
“Not now Pile Driver.”
Pile Driver pressed on with her efforts at courtship, "Me like B’jackass. Me good baby maker...ask B.O.”
B.O., eavesdropping, looked back grinning and quickly supported Pile Driver’s claim, “Pile Driver good at bam bam...she bam bam like rabbits. She get name because she do bam bam with anything: man, woman, pet, not matter.”
“Okay I get it. She’s a real animal in the sack,” responded the President studying the