finally awakened all save IllaryHay from their gazed befuddlement.
“As I was saying I am ‘B’jagoff’...Lord over all you cannibals.”
The headhunters looked at each other with questioning looks. Some could be heard mumbling “B’jagoff?”
That had got their attention and they now stared full at the weird-looking man who had defeated their greatest warrior with one fell swoop of his strange-looking bang bang stick.
“See me have mark,” he pronounced with a glow of radiance.
The Big Hoot’Shaland head hunters now each took a look at the head of his women’s driver, a shocked look coming to each Troglodyte’s eyes when they recognized the emblem Saul the Wizard had scratched onto the metal.
"Saints above!" one of them gasped, "He be B’jagoff, lord over all Jackass clans!"
The other Big Hoot’Shaland warriors stared wildly at one another, then roared with bursts of joy.
Now the head hunters swarmed about him howling like coyotes with heads raised, brandishing their wooden weapons into the air, some even humping one another...an ordinary, quintessential, primordial display of happiness for Neanderthals. To witness this kind of raw animal spectacle and debauchery from these lowbrows was a thing most normal timid dudes would have shrunk from, but not BamaOay. The President understood perfectly that these backward peoples were just being who they were...primitives.
"Oh, but the Werlick will weep tears of joy to see you!” cried out one of the hunters.
“Oh, B’jagoff!" yelled another Big Hooter.
"Aye!" shouted another. "The Werlick has been like one wrapped in a mantle of melancholy and curses himself night and sunlight for not being able to make any ‘hope and change!’"
"Now we will have ‘hope and change’...and barbecue!" yelled another using his spear to impersonate a primitive sexual act.
"Hail B’jagoff, Lord over all Jackasses!" another hollered.
The dull thumping of wooden poles all about him and the thunder of their acclaim was infectious now causing most within the President’s party to now join the spectacle, to howl like curs, to begin humping one another, to raise their pointy sticks and boneheaded axes overhead and toward the heavens. Their blood-thirsty hunger was afire and they desired nothing more than having their newfound sovereign lead them on raids and pillaging.
"What is your command B’jagoff?" they cried out in unison.
"Let one of you run ahead and bear news of my coming to your settlement!”
“Oh, yes! That good! That good idea!” yelled another.
“Breasts are sure to be bared!” exclaimed another.
“Hurrah!” a few shouted.
“Some might even bathe!” shouted another.
“Hurrah!” a few more shouted.
“We might all get laid!” hollered another.
“HURRAH!” they all shouted together.
“Well, get going you Hoot’Shalander! Go tell them the Great One is coming!”
The morons did not have to be told a second time only not one, but all set about running off to the still unseen village.
Another Kingdom, Another Beast
BamaOay found the menfolk and damsels of the new clan oddly dressed. They wore round hats of dried grass that rose to a near perfect small point a foot above their heads like a dunce cap, but more resembling Amish corn shocks. Even more interesting were the little sound chimes of bone around the brims that clinked sweetly as they walked and swayed. The hats of the dudes were plain and brown; their little women's hats were bright and cheery with all sorts of flowers. Both were dressed in an assortment of animal skins; largely spotted elk hides and for the most part their manes were long, unruly and fell down to their shoulders. Some, however, like the warrior BamaOay defeated had their hairdos slicked back with animal grease.
Everyone was a bottle blonde with deep sunken eyes of mostly blue set below the classic protruding foreheads which acted as a natural buttress for their dunce caps. Both adult males and gentlewomen, the President thought, were about the same age as his riffraff, and they too all sported mangy beards. They stood blocking his path stationary and quiet, as if waiting for something, or someone.
The shuffling of hide-skin loafers along stone came to ear as one of them, a man who was doubtless much older than the rest, came strolling forward. His face was covered with wrinkles, what hair he had was nearly all white and he was not wearing one of those pointy caps, but instead had slicked his hair over the expansive bald spot with bear grease like a comb over...and he wore a chicken bone through his nose. As he tottered rather stiffly toward the President the inhabitants of the settlement made a path for him, drawing up just the other side of him as he passed, following his labored footsteps step for step.
BamaOay was standing, his stilt legs crossed was half-leaning on his driver as a golfer might at the head of his little flock of misfits. Most, save for Stinker who made a mad dash into the surrounding woods whimpering in pain, remained quiet and stationary behind him only occasionally whispering among themselves, as if afraid of the approaching witchdoctor. The impish older man eventually made his way to the head of his pack of villagers where the President noticed a strained look upon the old man’s features, but gave it little thought. Standing still and without saying a word the Big Hoot’Shaland medicine man nodded his head slightly in acknowledgment of BamaOay’s presence made a slight smile then grimaced heartily for the briefest moment, then to the President’s horror and disgust cut one of the longest winded, most colossal feats of flatulence he had ever witnessed.
The Medicine Man promptly looked more relaxed and let out a big sigh of relief.
Ahhh...
He now looked at the President with an expectant gaze that seemed to say, “Your turn.”
Pile Driver had proven a useful interpreter. She now proved her worth, again by whispering, “Him waiting for reply.”
“Reply?” murmured the President.
“Yes, Boom-Boom reply,” she whispered back.
“Boom-Boom like handshake?” whispered the President.
“Handshake? Not know handshake. Boom-Boom mean Boom-Boom.”
“Is that what the old man just did...a Boom-Boom?”
“Yes, that Boom-Boom,” whispered Pile Driver.
Gulp...
Now he understood why the geezer had looked so uncomfortable when he approached; the bastard had probably been holding that toot of his in all morning long saving it just for this occasion. The last time he had tried to Boom-Boom it had proven personally embarrassing and not coming close to matching the bravado of the one Moonbeam had cut loose. He hesitated as he mustered up his courage, but delay was cause for concern for those around him. Even worse the villagers opposite him were beginning to whisper amongst themselves, their eyes belying their growing doubts to his authenticity. He brought his beady dark eyes back onto those of the elder who stood waiting and now drooling looking for the customary handshake.
BamaOay’s face became more ashen as he set about working on his reply. His cheeks bulged like some goldfish as he held his breath and pushed. The seconds seemed to pass like hours as he strained to give his retort. He gasped for breath momentarily then went back to his straining efforts to make a response. He was going to make this time count...really count. No more cowardly displays of barbarism for him. No, this time he was going to really cut one...and show the world what kind of barbarian he was.
“Close....I’m so close,” he murmured under his breath.
Screeeech!
Success....
Holy shit, I just sharted!
He looked to see if anyone noticed the double whammy, but no, all had smiles of happiness and joy at his success. He had proven himself one of them, a fellow Jackass.
This made the geezer smile too and with a low bow now communicated in a guttural voice:
"Greetings B’jagoff to Big Hoot’Shaland, I am ‘Toe’Jum,’ the tribal Werlick. We are grateful you finally come to
put end to misery and to fulfill prophecy. You will unite all Jackasses against our big-headed foe. We have suffered too long and now we will make barbecue of them.”
Toe’Jum now caught sight of IllaryHay standing behind the President for the very first time and like BamaOay, B.O. and Goo Goo earlier in our story the Big Hoot’Shaland chieftain’s fierce dark eyes burned with a luminesce any woman could understand as they ran over her glorious figure, lingering on the less-than-bountiful swells of what could only have been her splendid little bosoms beneath a beaver hide blouse.
“We want you unleash magic upon nonbelievers. Come, we drink...” pointing to IllaryHay he added, “and bring wench along , too.”
Suddenly, and without warning, shouts came to the President’s tremendous ears.
“Monster! Monster!”
BamaOay felt the short hair stir on his scalp.
“Not, again!” he whispered, concern etched upon his features.
The creature that bellowed outside the enclosure was like something he had heard once before. It was the embodiment of some nightmare. Everyone, including IllaryHay and the President, raced up to the palisade to get a better look. Then they caught sight of the thing!
“Is that damnable horror trailing us?” asked IllaryHay, angst reflected upon her face.
“I’m not sure that’s the same monster,” responded the President, his keener eyesight making out more of the critter than any ordinary person.
The thing’s color was of a curious pale quality which made it seem ghostly and unreal in the shadows. But, there was
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