Barbarian King
Page 25
gate. Not looking back she ran straightaway through the still open gateway disappearing among the village huts.
BamaOay realized now that the idiots had left the gate open, forgetting it completely during their stupefied celebration. Whatever was behind the half-naked cavewoman was fast approaching.
Moonbeam’s shouting had ceased...he had escaped to his abode, hiding from the approaching terror.
Stumbling along the stockade the President raced, heart pounding in ears, to get to the entryway before the creature did. He got goosebumps when he heard an inhuman bellyaching not more than a hundred yards away....he wasn’t going to make it!
He yelled out, frustrated and scared shitless at the inept progress he was making, “Damn these pencil stick legs of...!” before tripping over a shoelace that had worked loose with all his tromping. Falling headlong and landing roughly not but a few yards from the entrance, it looked as if he was about to meet the approaching menace face to face.
BamaOay's skin began to crawl for beyond the main gate at the edge of the woods the inhuman bellowing had abruptly ceased. He remained motionless as a statue, his gaze fixed on a dark shadow that had suddenly appeared. Would the culminating horror presently appear?
It was dark and wooly in the dim light and the President's hair began to lift on his scalp as he looked on. He saw a head and a pair of deep-sunken eyes grow out of the forest twilight. There were no sounds of footsteps, but the short wooly form grew more distinct until he recognized the figure of something that resembled a miniature Mammoth, only it wasn’t. The thing was clad in folds of droopy skin and fur and sported something resembling a poodle’s tail at the hindquarters. The tail was bobbed, stuck straight up in the air with the familiar tuft of hair fashioned as if by a dog groomer; it was waving back and forth like a demonic flag.
Someone, or something was master over that beast!
This untamed monster had gaping jaws that were set off by a pair of long, pointy ivories that made the thing look partly like a Sabertooth Lion and came very close to dragging on the ground for their length.
“What the hell is it,” BamaOay muttered.
BamaOay stared at the sweep of the ridge of boney spikes that grew along the spine on a barrel shaped torso with limbs...limbs that were ridiculously short-looking given the things proportions and resemblance to a Dachshund.
The President could see the nightmare was without weakness, without mercy. The eyes were balls of dark fire; the beast looked like no creature he had ever seen before, certainly nothing like the bulldog he had whacked in the nads in the other dimension. This creature was horribly grotesque in every way, an ancient killer.
It took raw, animal courage for the President to fight down his most basic instincts, preferring in his heart of hearts to flee as opposed to standing and fighting, but he now understood why he was here. The fate of this clan hinged on him, the future of these souls, these jagoffs, hung in the balance. It was a small thing that tipped the scales in his favor...merely his driver adorned with the image of a donkey, that and seeing one of the few brave tribe members now tiptoeing out of the shadows to close that damn gate!
The creature was crouched on its hunches and approached its intended victim, the President, in the same way a lion on the African plains would stealthily hunt a gazelle through tall grass. The wooly fiend would break into a run at any moment.
The brave cave dweller reached the entryway!
“Yes,” the President whispered, “he’s going to make it. He’s closing the gate!”
The beast saw the heavy timber door shutting closed and broke into a trot, the din of its flying feet resounding off the earthen ground. Would the brave soul make it in time, or would the beast get there first!
BamaOay climbed to his feet and was eventually standing when he heard a mighty crash as the creature rebounded off the heavy timber door. There was another mighty crash and another followed by a horrible inhuman howl, the brave soul screamed out in terror.
BamaOay looked up to see the brave man had been caught, but only by his fur tunic with the beast attempting to drag him out of the compound.
There was still a chance for the President to save everyone, to save the village, to be the hero!
BamaOay rushed to help only he pushed the primitive with his mighty corded muscles...into the jaws of the beast. One life, after all, was not too much to sacrifice for heroism.
The poor soul screamed out in agony as the beast began tearing him asunder.
A-ieee!
“Success!”
Dragging the poor fellow out the President succeeded in securing the settlement entrance shut!
He had done it...he was a hero, again!
There was the noise of a brief struggle outside the city wall; the screaming rose unbearably mingled with other sounds unnameable and hideous. Evidently the man was being quartered just outside the enclosure, and BamaOay, his flesh crawling, visualized how that ghastly fiend of the darkness could have been tearing him asunder instead of that poor, unfortunate villager. The noise of a terrible and short struggle came to an end with the primitive’s waning screams, then a gasping burgle. Abysmal silence followed, then the burdensome footfalls of the beast could be heard again, but stumbling and uneven as if dragging its victim away.
The sweat stood cold on the President’s one brow and his hairy, strapping body...that was a close call. The movement of the horror of horrors soon no longer came to his ears. The frightful drama had played itself out and was finally over.
Again, climbing to the parapet he saw the aberration disappear into the shadows of the woods.
“Well, that’s that,” he remarked before turning to climb back down. He had proven his courage, again! Another heroic exploit to chalk up to his personal fearlessness.
One of the President’s cleated shoes now got caught on one of the rungs of the ladder, he fell, but thankfully, on his head. It was a good time for more of those Moo Moo fruits.
It was time to rejoice. BamaOay knew it. The villagers knew it.
The villagers came creeping from their hiding places...within minutes everyone was celebrating.
Another Celebration
The Hollywood-Chronicle-Tribune-Times - Hollywood is planning a new, full feature film on the life and times of President BamaOay. It will hallmark a cast of tens of thousands and is expected be one of the most expensive films Hollywood has ever produced. The multi-billion dollar project will be filmed in Panoa’Rammit Wow’Vision at locations around the world...nearly all the 194 countries the President vacationed in during his time in office.
God, was that all these people did? thought BamaOay. Forever celebrating...and screwing?
There was little in the way of actual food, so everyone just danced around swilling skulls of cave ale, stuffing their faces with the raie des fesses apples. Just the same, a ravenous appetite perpetually assailed the President like never before, a side effect of being a bundle of energy burning muscle. He was again feeling the rumblings of those hunger pangs.
Moonbeam greeted BamaOay with a warm, understanding smile and asked him to come accompany him for a little snack from his secret stash walking over to something resembling a part of a hacked down with a bone ax log, while scratching his fur covered rear end adding, “You know, women good for only one thing, making bam bam, but only when young.”
The President thought of his wife back home and agreed, “You no kid, mine hit forty and turn into bow wow.”
The two guys never thought of looking at themselves in a mirror; for one, there were no mirrors, just what they could make of themselves in the reflections cast by the surface of calm waters. Moonbeam bent over and the President winced...the guy wasn’t donning underwear. All that could be seen was this colossal ass crack and someone who was hung like a horse. Worse still, toilet paper did not exist in this world, so the locals used leaves instead. Anyhow, for a combination of sordid points including the overall hairiness of both sexes o
f these beasts and the less-than-adequate way they had to contend with difficulties when doing number two meant this guy was sporting dingle berries the likes of which the President had never before witnessed.
Gag!
He gagged at the brutal obscenity of the visage.
“You like dark, or white meat?” asked the medicine man.
Moonbeam took something resembling a thigh of a pig from the hewed out timber, placed the hunk of carcass on top of a portion of the log that acted as a cutting table and started to hack off slices of smoked barbecue with his bone ax that happened to be laying on top of the same piece of wood furniture. Picking up the carved up meat in his unwashed hands, he walked over and handed a share to the President.
“Sit now, eat.”
Keeping a handful of thick cut morsels himself Moonbeam now took a seat across from BamaOay, then tore a ravenous chunk out with his teeth. Chatting while chewing with mouth wide open, he set about talking about his adorable spouse, Moose Breath.
“As saying, ugly spouse went over to other whistle stop to see mother-in-law. Hot babe by way. Anyway, saw spouse barking at flying reptiles on yellow lava road. Me think she got mental problems. What you think?”
“Me not sure,” answered the President, then noticed the Medicine Man had some animal skin clothes hanging up on most of the walls of his abode. “Marvelous skins,” he commented, “why so many?”
“Oh, me settlement