Parasite Milk
Page 1
PRAISE FOR
CARLTON MELLICK III
“Easily the craziest, weirdest, strangest, funniest, most obscene writer in America.”
—GOTHIC MAGAZINE
“Carlton Mellick III has the craziest book titles... and the kinkiest fans!”
—CHRISTOPHER MOORE, author of The Stupidest Angel
“If you haven’t read Mellick you’re not nearly perverse enough for the twenty first century.”
—JACK KETCHUM, author of The Girl Next Door
“Carlton Mellick III is one of bizarro fiction’s most talented practitioners, a virtuoso of the surreal, science fictional tale.”
—CORY DOCTOROW, author of Little Brother
“Bizarre, twisted, and emotionally raw—Carlton Mellick’s fiction is the literary equivalent of putting your brain in a blender.”
—BRIAN KEENE, author of The Rising
“Carlton Mellick III exemplifies the intelligence and wit that lurks between its lurid covers. In a genre where crude titles are an art in themselves, Mellick is a true artist.”
—THE GUARDIAN
“Just as Pop had Andy Warhol and Dada Tristan Tzara, the bizarro movement has its very own P. T. Barnum-type practitioner. He’s the mutton-chopped author of such books as Electric Jesus Corpse and The Menstruating Mall, the illustrator, editor, and instructor of all things bizarro, and his name is Carlton Mellick III.”
—DETAILS MAGAZINE
“The most original novelist working today? The most outrageous? The most unpredictable? These aren’t easy superlatives to make; however, Carlton Mellick may well be all of those things, behind a canon of books that all irreverently depart from the form and concepts of traditional novels, and adventure the reader into a howling, dark fantasyland of the most bizarre, over-the-top, and mind-warping inventiveness.”
—EDWARD LEE, author of Header
“Discussing Bizarro literature without mentioning Mellick is like discussing weird-ass muttonchopped authors without mentioning Mellick.”
—CRACKED.COM
“Carlton is an acquired taste, but he hooks you like a drug.”
—HUNTER SHEA, author of Forest of Shadows
“Mellick’s career is impressive because, despite the fact that he puts out a few books a year, he has managed to bring something new to the table every time… Every Mellick novel is packed with more wildly original concepts than you could find in the current top ten New York Times bestsellers put together.”
—VERBICIDE
“Mellick’s guerrilla incursions combine total geekboy fandom and love with genuine, unbridled outsider madness. As such, it borders on genius, in the way only true outsider art can.”
—FANGORIA
Also by
Carlton Mellick III
Satan Burger
Electric Jesus Corpse (Fan Club Exclusive)
Sunset With a Beard (stories)
Razor Wire Pubic Hair
Teeth and Tongue Landscape
The Steel Breakfast Era
The Baby Jesus Butt Plug
Fishy-fleshed
The Menstruating Mall
Ocean of Lard (with Kevin L. Donihe)
Punk Land
Sex and Death in Television Town
Sea of the Patchwork Cats
The Haunted Vagina
Cancer-cute (Fan Club Exclusive)
War Slut
Sausagey Santa
Ugly Heaven
Adolf in Wonderland
Ultra Fuckers
Cybernetrix
The Egg Man
Apeshit
The Faggiest Vampire
The Cannibals of Candyland
Warrior Wolf Women of the Wasteland
The Kobold Wizard’s Dildo of Enlightenment +2
Zombies and Shit
Crab Town
The Morbidly Obese Ninja
Barbarian Beast Bitches of the Badlands
Fantastic Orgy (stories)
I Knocked Up Satan’s Daughter
Armadillo Fists
The Handsome Squirm
Tumor Fruit
Kill Ball
Cuddly Holocaust
Hammer Wives (stories)
Village of the Mermaids
Quicksand House
Clusterfuck
Hungry Bug
Tick People
Sweet Story
As She Stabbed Me Gently in the Face
ClownFellas: Tales of the Bozo Family
Bio Melt
Every Time We Meet at the Dairy Queen,
Your Whole Fucking Face Explodes
The Terrible Thing That Happens
Exercise Bike
Spider Bunny
The Big Meat
ERASERHEAD PRESS
205 NE BRYANT
PORTLAND, OR 97211
WWW.ERASERHEADPRESS.COM
ISBN: 978-1-62105-249-4
Copyright © 2017 by Carlton Mellick III
Cover art copyright © 2017 by Ed Mironiuk
www.edmironiuk.com
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written consent of the publisher, except where permitted by law.
Printed in the USA.
AUTHOR’S NOTE
I didn’t feel like writing a real introduction to this book, so here is a recipe for spaghetti tacos:
SPAGHETTI TACOS
INGREDIENTS:
Leftover spaghetti
Taco shells
Frozen meatballs
1/2 cup canned diced jalapenos
2 1/3 cups shredded Mexican blend cheese
1 tablespoon cayenne pepper
1/4 cup chili paste
Two large eggs
1 bottle of vodka
Some nails
A really cool custom-made post-apocalypse motorcycle
from the Mad Max movies
A shotgun
Your face
Robot arms (optional)
Cilantro
Place the leftover spaghetti in a large mixing bowl and stir in the eggs, cayenne pepper, diced jalapenos, and chili paste. If you don’t have any hands use robot arms (optional). Put mixture in medium casserole dish, insert frozen meatballs, and cover with Mexican blend cheese.
Heat casserole in the oven for 45 minutes at 350 degrees.
While baking, drink the entire bottle of vodka and hammer the nails into your face, then drive the motorcycle around the block, firing the shotgun wildly into the air. This should encourage your neighbors to form a post-apocalypse biker gang with you. Lead your new friends back to your place for lunch.
Put the spaghetti mixture into taco shells and garnish with cilantro. If any of your new friends has that weird genetic disorder that makes cilantro taste like soap, tell him to get the fuck out of your house and never come back. You don’t need to associate with their kind.
This recipe should make two dozen tacos. Share with your friends. Or eat all of them while they watch in order to establish your dominance as leader of the biker gang.
Enjoy!
Or if you’re really lazy you could just toss a can of Chef Boyardee into a taco or whatever. I don’t care.
So that’s it. I hope you enjoy my new book.
—Carlton Mellick III 6/10/2017 8:58pm
Chapter One
I have way too many erections.
Seriously, I have a ton of them. At least twenty a day. Fifty, sometimes, if the weather is warm enough. It’s a curse. A horrible, never-ending curse. When I was a teenager, they said it was normal. They said all boys are plagued by frequent erections from the ti
me they go through puberty until the time they reach their sexual peak. They said it would all calm down some time during college. But they were wrong. They were completely, utterly wrong.
After all the other boys in my class passed their sexual prime, my libido kept on growing. It only got stronger as I aged. By the time I was thirty, the problem was three times as bad as it was when I was a teenager, dealing with erections on an hourly basis. Now I’m almost forty and it’s even worse. It seems like I spend most of my day erect and painfully horny. The doctors don’t know what to make of me. They just give me pills that are designed to calm my sexual urges, but nothing ever seems to be strong enough to nullify them completely. I still suffer from constant, unending erections that seem to come out of nowhere. In the most unlikely of places. At the most awkward of times.
Right now, for instance.
I’m on a crowded teleportation pod, six dozen passengers squeezed together as tightly as Vienna sausages in a can, waiting to be beamed halfway across the galaxy to the planet Kynaria. Just as they locked the doors and I found myself pressed against the back of an eighty-year-old frog woman, my penis decided to grow hard. It’s poking into her like a child poking his finger into a frosted birthday cake, and there’s absolutely nothing I can do about it.
I attempt to think of the most sexually unappealing things I can possibly imagine. A fat man naked? No. My grandparents having sex? No. Making out with the old lady in front of me? Definitely no. I can’t think of sex. No matter how disgusting in concept, any thought of sex will keep me aroused. I try thinking of something mundane. I think of math. I do math problems in my head. But my erection won’t go away. Thinking of math just reminds me of my high school algebra teacher—Mrs. Davila, the hot twenty-three-year-old who wore low-cut shirts for absolutely no reason other than to torture fourteen-year-old boys.
The old frog woman won’t sit still, wheezing and shifting her weight from side-to-side, unintentionally rubbing her shiny, warted skin against my dick. I’m not sure which planet she is from. I’m hoping it’s one of the more open-minded worlds that have come to accept that erections are perfectly normal bodily functions that are in no way offensive or embarrassing. Or better yet, perhaps she comes from a planet where they don’t have erections at all and don’t even know what they are, like the Tryxians who mate by blowing bubbles at each other from tubes in their armpits.
I decide to think of something frightening. The best way to get rid of an erection is through anxiety. It should be easy. I’m standing in a teleportation pod, waiting to be dematerialized and instantaneously beamed thousands of light years away from Earth. That’s already a pretty scary idea. And a whole lot of things can go wrong.
Traveling via teleportation beam is supposed to be perfectly safe, but there are instances of people being sent to the wrong planet or disappearing into the great void of space. There’s also a chance that you’ll become particle-locked, where you come out on the other side as an unmoving statue of flesh. Or you can become beam-resistant, where your anatomy can no longer safely dematerialize and you’ll be forever trapped on the planet you’ve just visited, which may not be your home world or even a habitable world at all.
The possibilities are all very frightening. However, they do nothing to kill my erection. The idea of being trapped on an alien planet is almost comforting to me. At least I’d never have to worry about my embarrassing erections ever again.
“You the eyebot man?” somebody asks me.
I peer over the woman’s shoulder and see a large guy with a thin gray beard squeezing through the crowded teleportation pod toward me. He’s one of the only humans in the chamber besides me. He pushes past a blue blobby creature and elbows a young stick-thin elf woman in the neck, raising his eyebrows with a big smile on his face as though excited to make my acquaintance.
“Eyebot man?” I ask him, not quite sure he’s talking to me.
He nods. “Don’t you run the eyebots? You know, the camera drones? I was told that the eyebot guy would be taking the beam with me.”
I’d never heard of the term eyebot before. I wonder if he came up with the nickname himself.
“Yeah,” I say. “Do you work for the show, too?”
He holds out his hand and introduces himself. “Mick Meyers.”
I know the name. He’s one of the producers on the show. After I shake his hand, he wipes his fingers down the gray whiskers on his chin as though using my palm sweat for hair gel.
“Irving Rice,” I say.
My erection does not dissipate, even after shaking the guy’s hand. For a second, I’m almost happy to be pressed against the old woman so that my penis is concealed from his view. But then she moves. Mick shoves her out of the way so that he can stand in front of me. My only choice is to cover myself with my hands as the crowd squeezes us into each other.
“Nice to meet you, Rice,” Mick says.
He smiles down on me as though he can tell I’ve got my dick in my hand, but he doesn’t acknowledge it. He just stands in silence, pressed against me with that awkward smile on his face. I try not to look him in the eyes.
After a few unbearable moments, he breaks the silence by asking, “So, have you ever been to Kynaria before?”
I shake my head. “I’ve never even been off world at all.”
His eyes light up. “So this is your first beam? How exciting for you. You must be thrilled.”
I shrug. The idea of teleporting to an alien world always kind of frightened me.
“Yeah, I guess.”
“The first beam I took was to Chung. Have you heard of Chung?”
I shake my head.
He says, “Chung is a fire planet. It’s all lava and the people there have rock-like skin. It’s crazy.”
Ever since Earth was connected to the intergalactic transport system, we’ve had access to thousands of alien worlds. So many that I haven’t even heard of the vast majority of them. I didn’t even know about the planet Kynaria until a few weeks ago, when I was told they needed me to go there for a shoot.
“The girls there are really hot,” Mick continues. “Even though the outer layer of their skin is made of stone, they still have amazing curves and perfect tits. They’re like marble statues that walk and talk. If you ever have a chance to have sex with a Chungian, I highly recommend it.” He chuckles and rests his hand on my shoulder. “And man, they give the most amazing blowjobs.”
Mick raises his voice as he talks about the Chungian women, as though he wants to make sure that everyone in the chamber can hear what he’s saying. Many eyes, both alien and human, turn toward us.
He continues. “You see, even though their skin is hard as rock on the outside, inside they are really soft. Their mouths and tongues are just heavenly goo.”
Mick’s words don’t help my erection at all. And with his hand on my shoulder, the situation couldn’t possibly get more awkward.
“But they’re nothing compared to the women on Oolva,” he says. “I’m sure you’ve heard of Oolva. The really curvy tall girls with the purple tentacles? They have these giant lower mouths big enough to swallow a man whole. When they give you a blowjob, that’s what it feels like. Everything from your waist down goes in their mouths. It’s something you’ve got to try.”
I’m beginning to think Mick is a very strange individual. He’s only just met me, yet he’s already telling me the kinds of things you’d only tell your closest friends in a private setting after you’ve had a few too many beers. Listing your favorite alien blowjobs is not the kind of anecdote you tell to a guy you just met, especially not on a crowded teleportation pod.
“But make sure you only do oral with an Oolvan,” he continues. “Their vaginal fluids are like acid. They’ll melt your dick right off. Seriously. A friend of mine learned that the hard way. He hasn’t fucked anything since.”
He laughs and grips my shoulder tighter.
“But the weirdest blowjob I ever got was—”
He is cut off by a voi
ce coming on the intercom system telling us that we will depart in ten seconds. The lights dim. The room begins to vibrate.
“Here we go,” Mick says, finally removing his hand from my shoulder. “Get ready to have your molecules dispersed.”
He smiles as though excited by the idea of dematerializing, like it gives him some kind of physical thrill.
When the countdown reaches zero, my skin becomes warm with vibrations. It feels like we’re being cooked inside of a microwave. Then I lose my senses one at a time. First, the sense of sound. Everything goes silent as my ears come apart. Then goes my sight. Everything becomes fuzzy and pixilated, then black. My sense of touch lingers much longer, but all I feel is the warm vibration of my skin as it is broken down into particles.
The only sense that I don’t seem to lose is my sense of smell. Perhaps it’s just my brain messing with me, but I can’t get the scent of burnt rubber out of my nose. It sticks with me even after I become a bodiless mass of information projected across the galaxy.
When I am put back together, I realize that my erection has finally subsided. Who knew that all it took to end my humiliation was for me to have my entire body broken down on a molecular level and sent to another world?
“Here we are,” Mick says, rubbing his beard. “This is going to be fun.”
I nod my head. But I’m not sure if I agree. I didn’t come to have fun. I’m just here to do a job. If I were the adventurous type I would have traveled to another world long ago.
The overhead lights brighten and the doors to the chamber open.
As we wait for the people ahead of us to leave the pod, Mick says, “Kynaria is one of the most beautiful worlds I’ve ever been to. It’s a mushroom planet. There’s no trees here. No wood. Everything’s made of mushroom.”
I nod. It’s all I really know about the planet. There’s not a whole lot of information about Kynaria online. All I know is that it’s really colorful and mushrooms grow like crazy.
“You’ve been here before?” I ask.
He nods. “I came last month to scout locations. It’s a pretty crazy place. You’re going to love it.”