Tagged: tune in next time

For Four Days My Military Zeppelin Soared Through the Sky

  • by jengreat unconquerable natural wonder
  • grow weary of having a whimsical name
  • stories of properly requited love
  • crystal crown
  • like two cats with their tails tied together

Tune in next time part 427      Click Here for Earlier Installments

For four days my military zeppelin soared through the sky toward Enigma Fortress, and the entire time my libido was a great unconquerable natural wonder, despite the best efforts of Yolanda the Yodeler. She went about the gondola scantily clad, and insisted that I call her YoYo. I myself would grow weary of having a whimsical name like that. It’s good that my moniker is so sensible.

When we were still one day out from the fortress, the Paradoxica Mountains appeared below us. YoYo became desperate to have her way with me, and I must admit I found her frenzy both flattering and arousing. I had become quite accustomed to frequent releases and my four day dry spell felt interminable.

As I held YoYo at arms’ length I asked her why she was so desperate. I needed to know what it was that made my fluids so exotic and desirable. She pouted and told me stories of properly requited love, implying that it was me she coveted and not the substances my body produced. She knocked the General hat from my head and replaced it with a crystal crown, declaring me the king of her heart. I could resist her charms no longer, and we made love in the Contrarian fashion. Instead of doggy-style, it’s like two cats with their tails tied together. It’s quite ritualistic, and took most of the rest of our flight time.

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I Barely Had Time to Get Back Into Uniform

  • by Kenta little tune about banana bread
  • Finding a skull, picking it up,
  • heels of my new boots
  • “A fox, it’s called.”
  • but you have a job to do

Tune in next time part 428      Click Here for Earlier Installments

I barely had time to get back into uniform before the zeppelin docked at Enigma Fortress. Yolanda kept smiling at me in a most unprofessional but endearing manner, and the pilot continued to pretend he could neither see nor hear us, as he’d been doing for the entire journey.

As I strode out onto the gangway extending from the zeppelin’s gondola to the wall of the fortress, an honor guard raised ram horns to their lips and blew me a rather brown-sounding fanfare. Then the fortress’s resident Yodeler, a corporal by the name of Yancy, began the official welcoming ceremony by singing a little tune about banana bread. There was a dance to go with it, which I was expected to perform. I scrambled to remember all the steps. It is a dance that tells a story, a symbolic reenactment of the birth of the entire Contrarian Military-Industrial Complex. Finding a skull, picking it up, then grinding it to powder under the heels of my new boots. Contrarian defense contractors like to focus on dealing with foes who have already been flensed.

My dance moves earned me another inauspicious blast of the horns, and then Yancy led me to my quarters. I pushed open the door and spotted a red blur as something vanished under my bed.

I turned to Yancy for some insight.

“A fox, it’s called.”

I made the universal circular hand gesture for “go on…”

“They’re good luck. Also, if you make friends with it, warm and cuddly in long alpine nights. I’m sure if you’re persistent you and the fox will bond, but you have a job to do so you might not have that kind of free time.”

“Perhaps I have all the luck I need, and the fox can go.”

“All due respect, General, look where you are. I wouldn’t turn down any extra luck in your position.”

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Alone in My Mountain Fortress Chamber

  • by jenfell into a troubled sleep
  • brushing her wine glass
  • save it, asswipe
  • I thought about the gradient
  • three-legged races, dunk tanks

Tune in next time part 429      Click Here for Earlier Installments

Alone in my mountain fortress chamber, I fell into a troubled sleep. I woke to a squeaking noise, like that a woman makes by brushing her wine glass rim with a damp finger. As my sleep-clouded eyes cleared, I saw that it was merely the fox rubbing his nose on the windowpane. “Save it, asswipe,” I grumbled, throwing my pillow at the beast. “It’s the middle of the night.”

The fox looked at me smugly and curled up to sleep on the pillow, leaving me with nothing to rest my head upon. Would I be able to capture the animal? I could grab it and throw it out into the snow and finally sleep in peace. But then I thought about the gradient of the slope, how the Paradoxica Mountains were practically vertical, and I knew such a toss would likely be fatal to the poor creature. I sighed and laid back on my feather mattress. Surely there were things more uncomfortable than sleeping sans pillow. Things like circuses, three-legged races, dunk tanks…

I tucked my arm under my head and drifted off.

In the morning, blinding sunlight flooded my quarters. YoYo stood at the foot of my bed. When she saw that I was awake, she said, “I have an urgent message from your wife.”

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“Well, Let’s Hear It”

  • by Kenteven the violinists
  • insisted that he call his attorney
  • It wasn’t natural.
  • as if he had touched a Leyden jar.
  • over her tight white elastic panties

Tune in next time part 430      Click Here for Earlier Installments

“Well, let’s hear it,” I said before I thought things through. Yolanda the Yodeler commenced delivering the message at full volume, sending the poor fox scurrying under the bed.

The urgent message stated, “Isolde hasn’t seen Harry in three days, ever since the incident at the cotillion. Most of the orchestra side with Harry, and even the violinists insisted that he call his attorney. But Harry’s attorney vanished last winter during a blizzard of duct tape. Everyone agrees our enemies had something to do with that storm. It wasn’t natural. The Minister of Trapeze caught one of the flakes on his tongue and jumped as if he had touched a Leyden jar. Thus you must abandon your post in the Paradoxica Mountains and return to the capital to act as Harry’s lawyer.”

“Is that all?” I asked.

YoYo nodded. A sly smile made itself comfy on her face like a cat stretching out for a nap as she posed to call my attention to the non-regulation jeans she wore over her tight white elastic panties that I remembered from our time aboard the zeppelin (which were regulation in every way).

The fox poked its head out from under the bed and whimpered at me.

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“Summon My Zeppelin”

  • by jengoing utterly numb
  • light fixtures had long ago been stolen
  • with such instructors
  • with just ten minutes and a chair
  • kill him and eat him

Tune in next time part 431      Click Here for Earlier Installments

“Summon my zeppelin,” I ordered.

“I’m sorry to say that there’s a blizzard,” said YoYo, not sounding sorry at all. “Your zeppelin is grounded. You will be alerted immediately when it is safe to take to the skies. In the meantime, these jeans are so tight my bottom is going utterly numb. Surely you’d like to help me remove them.”

“Perhaps some other time.” I groped about in the dimness. “Dammit, where’s the light switch?”

“It’s right here,” said YoYo. “But it won’t do you any good.” She explained that the light fixtures had long ago been stolen by marauding Harmonians. “Now about these jeans.”

“If I’m to act as Harry’s lawyer, I need to brush up on Contrarian Law.”

YoYo placed my hands upon her zipper. “I’ve heard that you were educated at The Hopscotch Academy. With such instructors as they have there I’m sure you know more about Contrarian Law than most Contrarian lawyers.”

“There’s no way that’s possible. All things Contrarian are ridiculously complicated.” I looked sternly at her. “What game are you playing, Yolanda?”

“I will show you, with just ten minutes and a chair, and maybe a little bit of whipped cream.”

The thought of YoYo (or myself) covered in whipped cream was too much, and I gave in. The snow was too heavy for my zeppelin to return me to my wife, it was too dark to study for my upcoming legal duties, I had already had sex with YoYo and survived, so no matter what her plan was I felt pretty safe. Plus if she was naked it would be easy to search her for hidden weapons.

“Just once more,” I said, stripping her tight jeans off. “After all, what’s the worst that can happen?”

“If Harry is found guilty his accusers are allowed to kill him and eat him,” YoYo purred, pushing me back onto my feather mattress and startling the fox.

I guess it’s a good thing I never liked Harry very much anyway.

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YoYo Hadn’t Actually Brought Along Any Whipped Cream

  • by Kentstill stiff and salt-stained
  • “Or someone did, anyway.”
  • swaying and bumping in the unclean air
  • an act of obscure sentimentality
  • His vague smile

Tune in next time part 432      Click Here for Earlier Installments

YoYo hadn’t actually brought along any whipped cream, but she did find inventive ways to use the chair. That it took longer than ten minutes didn’t bother me, or her.

Afterwards I was hesitant to don my uniform, because it was still stiff and salt-stained from my journey to Disco Island. But the fabrics were clean, supple and pressed. “You washed my uniform,” I said, but YoYo looked nervously puzzled. “Or someone did, anyway.”

She shrugged and went over to the window to watch the blizzard, hugging herself. “My jeans are too tight, I will not put them back on.” She stood naked, swaying and bumping in the unclean air.

“Where’s that smoke coming from?” I asked. YoYo shrugged some more, and then a deep voice from across the dim room said, “My cigar. Sorry, I’ll put it out.”

YoYo yelped and grabbed a blanket from my bed to cover herself as we both turned to find the person who’d spoken. The shadows at that end of the room made it all but impossible to discern the figure who leaned against the wall, and the lingering cigar smoke didn’t help.

“Heh,” came the stranger’s raspy laugh. “Sending you to this outpost was nothing but an act of obscure sentimentality on your wife’s part. But now, to call you away so suddenly. Doesn’t it make you wonder what she doesn’t want you to see?”

“Identify yourself,” I demanded. “You are speaking to a general of the Contrarian Mountain Garrisons, and you will show proper respect.”

The man leaned forward, out of the murky corner. His vague smile told me that he knew I didn’t recognize him, but the tattoo on his cheek told me who he was all the same.

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The Elaborate Calligraphic Numerals

  • by jenshe washed it
  • something was lurking in the shadows
  • These guys can kiss my ass.
  • She’s a beautiful angel
  • um… yesterday

Tune in next time part 433      Click Here for Earlier Installments

The elaborate calligraphic numerals tattooed in gold on the lurker’s cheek identified him immediately as my brother-in-law. “So, William Penn XII, we meet at last.”

“I would have been at the wedding,” he replied with shrug, “except that I have a sworn blood feud with both my father and Fleur. My mother filed all the paperwork when I was but a babe in arms, and you know how Contrarians are about rituals and formalities and all that.” He stroked his cheek. “Mother also gave me this tattoo when I was too young to object.” When he saw my horrified expression he rushed to add, “She washed it first, of course. My cheek, I mean. She was very hygienic, my mum. I’ll give her that.”

I heard a rustling noise. Something was lurking in the shadows behind this man who had been lurking in the shadows.

“What are you doing here?” I demanded.

“I’m sure you’re aware of how highly in demand your ‘exotic substance’ is. I’m afraid that’s my doing.”

The fox appeared from under the bed just long enough to give us a look that said, “These guys can kiss my ass.” He then disappeared again.

“What a lovely fox,” said William.

“Forget about the fox,” I said. “What’s this about you being the one who wants my semen?”

William sighed. “It’s the only way for me to break the blood oath. Well,” he tilted his head and pursed his lips, “the easiest way.” He could see my confusion so he went on. “The easiest way for a Contrarian second-born to nullify a blood feud with the firstborn and heir is to present the firstborn their own firstborn.”

“What?” asked YoYo, which meant I didn’t have to.

William explained, “If my sister’s husband gets my wife pregnant and we give the resultant offspring to Fleur to add to her royal brood, then this ridiculous blood feud will be declared null and void and I will be free to enjoy the life of leisure I am entitled to as prince.”

“Wait,” I said. “You want me to get your wife pregnant?”

“I was hoping to do it without bothering you overmuch, which is why I sent agents to collect samples. I envisioned an in vitro conception. It seems, though, that my orders became garbled.”

“Does Fleur know about this?” I asked.

“Does it really matter?” He waved a hand toward YoYo. “I know you and Fleur have an understanding. Here, meet my wife.” He reached back into the darkness and pulled forward the second lurking figure. “She’s a beautiful angel, wouldn’t you say?”

She truly was lovely, with dark skin and black hair. “What’s your name?” I asked her.

“Um… Yesterday,” she said, licking her lips.

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“Pleased To Make Your Acquaintance”

  • by Kentit’s definitely probably most likely
  • lives with his reindeer-herder father
  • So, bullshit and hogwash.
  • vivid, annihilating heat
  • foreseeing the hideous reality which awaited them

Tune in next time part 434      Click Here for Earlier Installments

“Pleased to make your acquaintance, Yesterday,” I said.

“But you’re making it today,” YoYo quipped.

William Penn XII favored her with an indulgent smile. “I think we should leave my wife and brother-in-law to get to know one another better, don’t you?” He stepped forward and offered YoYo his elbow. She linked arms with him and cooed about how dashing his cheek numerals looked as they glided out the door.

Whenever you hear tales about a family that’s rife with tawdry intrigue, it’s definitely probably most likely mine.

Yesterday performed the 720-degree curtsy of the eastern noble houses. Etiquette demanded that I reply with the bow of morning, noon, and night, which I had technically never done. But that bow was essentially indistinguishable from doing the worm, which I had much practice with.

“William is my second husband,” Yesterday said to me while I undulated across the floor. “My first ran off in disgrace and now lives with his reindeer-herder father. That’s the official story, but there never were any reindeer in the eastern provinces. So, bullshit and hogwash.”

“Are you and William happy?” I asked, rising and kissing her hand.

“No, but we are content. When it is time to rut we do so with vivid, annihilating heat, and the rest of the time we each have our own hobbies. His latest hobby would appear to involve yodeling.” She caressed my cheek, gazing at it in fascination. “What about you and Fleur? I know what William says, but…” She kissed my un-calligraphed skin. “I want to hear what you say.”

“Well,” I said, “she sent me off to this remote outpost. That should give you the basic tenor of our marriage.” Yesterday was smiling up at me. I kissed her gently on the lips, and though she didn’t kiss back she kept smiling. “What happens now?”

She licked her lips again. “Now, you tell me of how this fortress came to be built. I can’t believe the workers carried out their job without foreseeing the hideous reality which awaited them once it was done.” And then, she kissed me, hard, making sure I could not, in fact, tell her any such thing.

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“William Showed Me a Picture of You”

  • by jenhair was a different color
  • stressful enough without it becoming a spectator sport
  • predicted it would be impossible
  • with a stranger lying next to me
  • Talk about awkward…

Tune in next time part 435      Click Here for Earlier Installments

“William showed me a picture of you,” said Yesterday. “In it your hair was a different color. Blond, I think you Americans call it.”

“That was a long time ago.” I murmured into her ear.

She gestured for me to continue as she slipped out of her fur cape.

I was still naked from earlier, so I had no undressing to do. “I used to sometimes bleach my hair. I have an identical twin, and when I was less easily mistaken for him, Yesterday, all my troubles seemed so far away.”

“Then why don’t you bleach it now?” She tugged at the zipper of her silver lame jumpsuit, exposing a vee of dark brown skin.

“My twin started bleaching his, too. He likes to be mistaken for me.”

Yesterday’s jumpsuit pooled on the floor around her ankles like a puddle of mercury. With a smile she took hold of me and led me to the bed. As soon as she was sure she had my undivided attention, she called toward the corridor, “Send in the notary and the witnesses.”

“What?”

The door opened, and in came two men and two women wearing the uniforms of the mountain garrison under my command.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

“Well obviously everything needs to be done properly if the blood feud is to be annulled. The Warlord and your wife would hardly accept the gift of just any random babies. We must observe the proper rituals and file the proper paperwork for every step of the process.”

I looked in dismay at the quartet gathered around my bed. One stood at each corner, clear-eyed and attentive. Making love to my wife’s half-brother’s wife was going to be stressful enough without it becoming a spectator sport. Before today I would have predicted it would be impossible for my sex life to become more convoluted than it already was, but Yesterday’s arrival proved such predictions wrong. Here I was, in a remote mountain outpost, during a blizzard, with a stranger lying next to me, naked and waiting for me to impregnate her, while four uniformed soldiers waited to play their roles in a centuries old ceremony. Talk about awkward…

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The Arrival of Four Uniformed Observers

  • by Kentreduced to a misdemeanor
  • used to live in her apartment building
  • a tsunami of bitchery
  • we used to be friends a long time ago
  • floors scrubbed, walls painted

Tune in next time part 436      Click Here for Earlier Installments

The arrival of four uniformed observers in my bedchamber inhibited my ability to perform with Yesterday. My libido, which had been in major felony territory, was reduced to a misdemeanor.

Yesterday tried to keep things going, but soon she had to stop pretending that I hadn’t wilted. She told me about a man who used to live in her apartment building whose love life was the main subject of gossip among the other tenants. She described in vivid detail the voluptuous visitors who circulated through his rooms. “One day he had a scheduling mishap and three of them arrived at the same moment, triggering a tsunami of bitchery like I had never witnessed. And, one of the women was familiar to me. We used to be friends a long time ago, and then there she was on my neighbor’s doorstep.”

Her sultry storytelling helped take my mind off the excess personages in the room, but I was going to need more help before I could get her pregnant. She could tell, so she elaborated.

“I was a visitor for my neighbor, once. I had to see what it was like in there. I’m not sure what I had expected, but I was surprised to find the floors scrubbed, walls painted a shrill green like a poison frog. I want you to understand, I didn’t throw myself at him. No, I insisted that he charm me, even made him dance for me.” Her grip on me tightened. “I like a man who can dance.”

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