Tagged: tune in next time

The Mimes Began to Circle

  • by jencursed at me and called me a child
  • “I’ve been having relations with your wife.”
  • some perfect mix of ethnicities
  • Boom! You’re officially
  • an allergic reaction to the bite of a basilisk lizard

Tune in next time part 359      Click Here for Earlier Installments

The mimes began to circle, malice in their dead eyes. John seemed unconcerned.

“Olga’s a mime sympathizer, John,” I said. “She’s going to hand that test tube over to the grease-painted scientist they keep trapped in a glass box, and who knows what he’ll do with it!”

“Dr Marceau escaped years ago,” John said. “I’m surprised you didn’t know.”

I shook my head pityingly. “No mime ever truly escapes the glass box, John. If you care about your sister at all you’ll stop her before she completes her initiation rites. Once she fully joins, she’s theirs for life.”

John cursed at me and called me a childish name that I will not dignify by repeating.

“Oh yeah?” I retorted. “I’ve been having relations with your wife.”

It was often like this between John and me. When things got tense we regressed to juvenile taunts.

“These nephews of mine,” John said, cuddling my four infants, “are some perfect mix of ethnicities that the world has never seen before. I’m going to carry them to safety and let the mimes finish you off.”

Before this week I’d had no children, had never wanted them. And now, in the course of just a few days I was suddenly a father of six and something inside me had shifted. It’s like some animal part of my brain said Boom! You’re officially a protector now! and there was nothing I wouldn’t do to protect my offspring. There was no way I could let a backstabber like John raise my sons.

My lightning reflexes and years of extensive Academy training kicked in, and in less than a minute the tide pool was littered with the bobbing corpses of so many mimes.

I wiped my hands on my soggy morning suit and turned to see John backing away, still clutching my quadruplets. Years ago John had suffered an allergic reaction to the bite of a basilisk lizard, and ever since he’d lived in mortal fear of that particular reptile. And as I mentioned before, I am able to imitate the call of any bird or beast. I took a deep breath and made the ululating cry of the basilisk lizard.

John’s eyes widened in panic.

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John Turned in a Full Circle

  • by KentI’d love to get to know you
  • she’s not a girl who
  • You may be an adventurous person
  • use their vacant home to have sex
  • — or so he thought —

Tune in next time part 360      Click Here for Earlier Installments

John turned in a full circle. He was surrounded by basilisk lizards — or so he thought — as my uncanny reproduction of that creature’s call echoed and reverberated from the limestone cliffs overlooking the beach. This end of the island chain had few permanent residents, but the clifftop was dominated by a sprawling vacation house. When the owners are away, the locals use their vacant home to have sex, I assume.

Before John could regain his wits, I belted out my piece de resistance, the cry of the Himalayan Snowcock. Such creatures would never be found at sea level, but John’s terror of them was such that he slumped onto his derriere. I stepped up and collected the babies. You may be an adventurous person, but you do not want to fuck with a new father of quadruplets.

“Go save your sister,” I urged John. “She needs you. You know she’s not a girl who will get herself out of trouble.”

I left him there in the sand, carrying the four infants like I’d been lugging four infants around my whole life. “So,” I said to them, “what’s your story? I’d love to get to know you little dudes better.”

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The Infants Didn’t Answer

  • by jenI’ve had tests.
  • unfettered by child labor laws
  • down in the pelvic region
  • rolled about in uncouth positions
  • like lovers do

Tune in next time part 361      Click Here for Earlier Installments

The infants didn’t answer my query. Believe me, if they had I would have heard them. I have excellent hearing — I’ve had tests. At the Academy they are unfettered by child labor laws, and they take full advantage of it, forcing students to construct weapons under the guise of education during the day, and conducting rigorous physical exams well into the night. I was loath to enroll my children in such an establishment, but would they be safe without the proper training? Through no fault of their own they’d been born into a dangerous life. What kind of father would I be if I failed to equip them for survival?

Pondering such an important topic left me distracted, and before I knew it I was face to face with the last person I expected to see in the Inimical Archipelago.

“Tessa!”

I hadn’t seen her since I left the island in the biplane with Xylona, and at that point she’d been kissing my brother Jove. Perhaps this wasn’t Tessa at all, but one of her sisters in disguise. And what a disguise! She was wearing a grass hula skirt and coconut bra.

I tried to keep my guard up, but it was nearly impossible when she said, “I’ve been thinking about you, you know, down in the pelvic region.” She ran her hands over her foliage-clad hips. “It’s been so long since you and I rolled about in uncouth positions, like lovers do.”

I was quite exhausted, and carrying four newborn babies, but something about the way Tessa rustled her skirt got my heart rate racing. She slipped out of her hula garb and laid it in the shade of a nearby beach umbrella, then took my sons from me one by one and placed them gently on it.

Even though I knew she probably wasn’t the real Tessa, and even if she was she was most likely merely after another sample of my alleged exotic compound, I could not resist her.

I used my top hat to block the babies’ view.

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I Know That For a Lot of Couples

  • by Kenthave some tea, some popcorn, some kale
  • “There are balloons.”
  • worried about the poachers
  • I met a man with seven wives
  • also the smartest and the strongest

Tune in next time part 362      Click Here for Earlier Installments

I know that for a lot of couples there’s a great deal of ceremony around intercourse, and they can’t proceed unless they have some tea, some popcorn, some kale, and a bushel of lemons. But Tessa and I are not so formal. Peeking around the top hat, she said, “There are balloons.”

“You should be chasing Olga right now,” I said, while I made that impossible. But Tessa clearly wasn’t worried about the poachers among the White Faces or what they might do with the sample. She assured me I didn’t have have to worry, either, while she made worrying impossible.

Working undercover my first year out of the Academy, I met a man with seven wives, all ex. He told me the trouble with his all marriages was because of woman number eight, the one he never married. There in the sun on the sand at the scene of my recent victory in combat, I was becoming ever more sure that Tessa was my woman number eight.

“… and also the smartest and the strongest,” she was saying.

Flattery. Huh. That proved this wasn’t Tessa. But which sister was it?

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A List of Tessa’s Sisters

  • by jenknows less than nothing about Norway
  • Oh, it’s too confusing
  • hovered overhead
  • my mouth is poison
  • on the rest of her body

Tune in next time part 363      Click Here for Earlier Installments

A list of Tessa’s sisters sprang into my mind, complete with little facts about each that might help me identify which of them I was currently engaged in intercourse with. Was it Tara, who hates cheese? Tanya, who can’t spell worth a damn? Perhaps Taylor, who sings like a banshee, or Tallulah, who knows less than nothing about Norway? Or was this in fact Tesla, the sister who was less-than-adept at oil painting?

“Oh, it’s too confusing!” I cried.

“It’s anything but confusing,” my partner assured, and she showed me what she meant while Inimical hummingbirds hovered overhead. And she was right, it was all quite simple when you left the mental aspects out and concentrated on the physical. I gave up caring, and tried to kiss her, but she pulled away.

“My mouth is poison,” she murmured. “One taste would kill you.”

I ignored her mouth and planted kisses on the rest of her body, whichever sister she was.

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Planting Kisses

  • by Kenthold your *own* hand for a change
  • I’ll let you see it if you want to
  • with a long-lost sister
  • “What poem?”
  • applying his left thumb

Tune in next time part 364      Click Here for Earlier Installments

Planting kisses all over the woman’s body seemed a good pretext for getting a look at her ass, where Tessa sported a cybernetic unicorn tattoo. But, my carnal companion twisted and shimmied and always kept me from obtaining more than a tiny glimpse of her ink. There was something there…

“Say, why not hold your *own* hand for a change?” she scolded playfully, guiding my grip toward something that was definitely not my hand. “You’re after my butt, aren’t you?” she said with a giggle. “I’ll let you see it if you want to.”

“Of course I want to,” I purred.

“It’s just, you’re going to be surprised when I show you, and I don’t want that to ruin the moment.” And without further ado, she flipped over. The tattoo was a bio-mechanical unicorn spewing rainbows, but it was facing the wrong direction. “Don’t stop now,” this temptress said. So I didn’t. There must be a special term for a man who so eagerly gratifies himself with a long-lost sister of the woman he claims to love, and I’m sure it’s unflattering. At that moment, I didn’t care one bit.

“Recite the poem!” she cried.

“What poem?” I grunted.

“Make something up!” Her voice was a peal of ecstasy. “It should be something about the man applying his left thumb to… Yes, to that.”

Laying with the babies in the shade of the umbrella afterwards, I asked her, “Aren’t you going to tell me your name?”

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“I Thought You Would Have Guessed By Now”

  • by jenstuffed with bears
  • a confusion of alternating nightmare and oblivion
  • some crazy hallucinations
  • but a pretext for murders, raids, and pillage
  • on her head

Tune in next time part 365      Click Here for Earlier Installments

“I thought you would have guessed by now,” my most recent paramour said with a lazy smile. “I’m Titania.”

My blood ran cold and my heart felt as if it were stuffed with bears scrambling to escape. Titania! The name brought a confusion of alternating nightmare and oblivion, like the worst acid trips of my youth. You yourself may have endured some crazy hallucinations, but I assure you they were nothing compared to what I was currently enduring.

Titania was the sister they never spoke of, the one who scandalized her family and the entire Academy by turning her back on her heritage and embracing the circus life. She’d given up her true name and was known now as the Crystal Clown, and all of her merry antics were but a pretext for murders, raids, and pillage. There was a substantial price on her head, and here she was, lolling naked beside me on the beach. Her proximity to my children filled me with terror.

The Crystal Clown’s smile grew less lazy. “Don’t get so worked up. I got what I came for.”

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Titania Seemed, For the Moment at Least

  • by Kent“Go, Nigel, go!”
  • kiss it with a sister’s kiss
  • whose reputation, I am sorry to say, was none of the best
  • the house smells like dodgeballs
  • include tortoises, elephants, fish, crickets, beetles, chickens and

Tune in next time part 366      Click Here for Earlier Installments

Titania seemed, for the moment at least, non-murderous and in the mood for chit-chat. Of course, if her mood shifted I would be a dead man. I decided to push my luck, just a little.

“Now that you’ve got it, can you tell me what it is? I’d love to understand what the fuss is all about.”

She wagged her finger at me. “That’s a trade secret. But, I guess there’s no harm in sharing a few interesting details. The special substance in your semen is not useful on its own, but must be combined with exotic biochemical agents sourced from other animals that include tortoises, elephants, fish, crickets, beetles, chickens and cobras. I can always tell when Tesla and Tallulah have been tinkering with the recipe, because the house smells like dodgeballs.”

Did she mean the house on Gratin Avenue? The one where Tessa grew up, on the forest-shrouded lot whose reputation, I am sorry to say, was none of the best?

Nah, it was probably some other house.

Titania rolled onto all fours, dropping me a wink over her shoulder as she crawled up the beach a few yards. She plunged her hand deep into the dry sand there and hauled out a black and white backpack. She stood up and put it on, still naked otherwise. “Well,” she said, “this has really been fun, but it’s time for me to get back to the place on Gratin Avenue to complete the formula!” She turned her head to kiss the shoulder strap. To kiss it with a sister’s kiss, which triggered the nanotech fabric of her backpack. It flowed over her skin to form a sort of leotard, and last of all a hard, faceted mask came up over the top of her head and settled over her face.

She took a small red sphere out of a hidden pocket, and stuck it on her nose. She gave it a pinch, releasing a shrill beep.

A strange creature galloped from behind a nearby dune. It took me a second to identify it as two people in a horse costume. The Crystal Clown leapt upon them, crying, “Go, Nigel, go!” and they sped off in a cloud of sand.

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You Know How

  • by jenif you are mind-controlled
  • escaping from his own thoughts
  • that inescapable sappy love ballad
  • “You remind me of a boxer I used to know.”
  • We’re all adults here.

Tune in next time part 367      Click Here for Earlier Installments

You know how, if you are mind-controlled, your thoughts are fuzzy and you feel like a man who is overusing drink as a way of escaping from his own thoughts? That’s how I felt, watching the Crystal Clown and her comical steed Nigel disappear down the beach. My brain was in a fog, but I knew not whether it was hormonal in nature, or due to exhaustion, or if Titania had perhaps poisoned me with an infernal clown toxin. My brothers Jove and Jupiter were both married to clowns, but I had always avoided their ilk as bedmates. One hears so many tales of clown treachery, it seemed wisest to avoid joining any in a compromising position. And yet I had just spent the past hour joined in several of the most compromising of positions with the deadliest clown I’d ever heard of. I counted myself lucky to be alive.

My journey back to my senses was hastened by a quartet of crying infants, as my newborn sons awoke from their naps. I quickly donned my soggy morning suit, and scooped the children into my arms. I assumed they were hungry, but I had nothing to feed them. I settled for singing to them, hoping the lullaby would soothe them for a short while. But I couldn’t remember a single lullaby and had to resort to that inescapable sappy love ballad from Titanic. You know the one.

One of my sons, the chubby bruiser on the left, socked me in the nose with his tiny fist. I chuckled at his grit and said, “You remind me of a boxer I used to know.”

Shortly I made my way back to the zeppelin docking spire. I hoped Fleur was still there in the restaurant at the top, and yet I hoped she wasn’t. It would be incredibly awkward, and perhaps even dangerous, to introduce her to these infant sons of mine. I could only hope that she would take pity on them and feed them, as I was incapable of doing.

The elevator ride to the top of the spire was long, and when I emerged into the rotating restaurant, the babies were once again fussing. Fleur and Isolde and their retinue were easy to spot, as they were the only customers in the place. From the looks of the dishes on the table, they’d barely made it to the 5th course, which left plenty of courses to go.

The first person to spot me was Harry, Isolde’s husband. As attractive as I found Isolde, it was a relief to no longer need to act as her proxy husband. My life was complicated enough at the moment. Harry nudged his wife, who nudged her sister. Fleur looked up from her plate of escargot caramels and spotted me, sandy, damp, and bedecked with infants that were not hers. Her eyebrows arched. With a flick of her wrist she signaled the maître d’ to escort me to her table. Harry bristled and wrapped his arm around Isolde, who sat open-mouthed.

All I could think to say was, “We’re all adults here.”

“Well obviously not,” Fleur said. “Those are babies you’re holding, you idiot, and they look hungry. Hand them to me two at a time, and I shall feed them.” She started to unbutton her top. “And while I do that you can feed me my escargot and explain to me just where these children came from. The last I saw, you were leaving in the elevator with an extremely rotund man.” Her eyes grew wide. “Are these the prophesied Seahorse Children?”

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I Held the Two Quadruplets

  • by Kentnot going to have fingers covered in cheese juice
  • the human mind can imagine
  • dragged him beneath the water
  • hurrying to and fro in the corridors or gesticulating
  • take it easy baby

Tune in next time part 368      Click Here for Earlier Installments

I held the two quadruplets not being nursed, who complained at high decibels, which woke the twins strapped to the blue panda. They joined the caterwauling and made the din almost intolerable.

“Fleur,” I said, “we need to discuss a matter of national security.” She made a pinched face and shook her head. “There’s a plot of some kind,” I said louder, but she still couldn’t seem to hear me. “Various factions have, very suddenly, taken an interest in my ejaculate,” I shouted.

Harry bellowed, “I, for one, am not going to have fingers covered in cheese juice.” At that exact moment, Fleur passed the two quads she’d fed over to Isolde, and beckoned for me to hand her the others. Thus, the rotating restaurant had just fallen silent apart from his odd remark to Isolde. The human mind can imagine connections between any two random events, but something about the hostile gleam in Harry’s eye convinced me that his utterance had been somehow for my benefit.

A moment later, toad-like Harry hopped up from his seat and intercepted a waiter who was passing the large fountain in the center of the restaurant. Harry seized the startled server by his cummerbund and dragged him beneath the water.

Isolde shrieked, “Harry!”

I moved toward the fountain with the idea of rescuing the waiter, but Harry was already hauling him back up.

“Next time, don’t be so late with the cheese course!” Harry scolded his dripping victim. “I don’t care if it requires hurrying to and fro in the corridors or gesticulating to one another across the kitchen, you’ll do it!” Flecks of spittle adorned Harry’s drooping mustache.

“Harry,” Isolde cooed, “take it easy baby. We’re not in a hurry.”

“I like cheese,” Harry croaked. “I just really, really like cheese.”

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