Showing posts with label storytime. Show all posts
Showing posts with label storytime. Show all posts

Sunday, March 31, 2013

The Human Chord

by Algernon Blackwood

The Human Chord (Dodo Press)

HUMAN CHORD ACTIVATE!

A Review Fantasia plus Spoilers in 3 Acts and a Prelude




PRELUDE

SCENE:
A young man - ROBERT SPINROBIN - sensitive and effeminate in appearance, sits in a threadbare apartment in turn-of-the-century London, with a newspaper in his lap.

SPINROBIN (to the audience): "Alas! Where is adventure? Where is the expansion of my mind? I - who possess the mystical vision of a poet - cannot be content with lowly drudge-work in an office! Oh how I long for my imaginary childhood companion - little Winky! - to take me on some soul-expanding journey! Oh, Winky! I miss our adventures!

But what is this!" (He looks down towards his paper)

SPINROBIN (reading from the newspaper): "'Wanted, by Retired Clergyman, Secretarial Assistant with courage and imagination. Tenor voice and some knowledge of Hebrew essential; single; unworldly. Apply Philip Skale.'"

SPINROBIN (to the audience): "I have found my grand adventure!"



ACT I

SCENE:
An empty rail station with a lonely but inspiring natural landscape looming in the background. Spinrobin stands waiting with his bags. A tall, imposing, heavily bearded man clad in knickerbockers - REVEREND SKALE - approaches.

SPINROBIN (to the audience): "Could this fearsome being be the Reverend Skale? My adventure approaches!"

SPINROBIN (to the approaching man): "Dear sir, I am at your service! Pray tell me what is required! My tenor is strong! My knowledge of Hebrew is improving! I have no woman! I am singularly unworldly! Tell me, Reverend Sir, are you leading me to some great adventure of the mind - indeed, of the very soul?"

SKALE: "Ahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahah! Sure!"



ACT II

SCENE:
A dinner table inside of a gloomy mansion, lit by candlelight. The sound of moaning wind. At the head of the table sits Reverend Skale; on one side of him sits a nervous-looking Spinrobin and on the other side sits a young lady MIRIAM, who is staring at Spinrobin with a cow-like expression of - presumably - devotion and love. Standing behind Skale is an old woman and servant, MRS MAWLE, whose withered left arm is in a sling and who is holding an ear horn to her right ear.

SPINROBIN: "Dear Sir! Please tell me of the adventure that awaits us all! I understand it involves singing and the coming together of voices, the forming of some sort of "Human Chord"... but for what purpose? Pray tell!"

SKALE: "Night time sharpens, heightens each sensation
Darkness stirs and wakes imagination
Silently the senses abandon their defenses

Slowly, gently night unfurls its splendor
Grasp it, sense it, tremulous and tender
Turn your face away from the garish light of day
Turn your thoughts away from cold unfeeling light
And listen to the music of the night!"


The stage is suddenly darkened.

SKALE (in baritone, slowly increasing in volume: "Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa...
POWER OF HUMAN CHORD! ACTIVATE!"

There is a flash and then a spotlight focuses on the table and there appears a little dancing mannequin of Reverend Skale.

MANNIQUIN SKALE (in tiny, childlike voice): "See what I do! I become small! He-hehehehe!"

The spotlight goes off and footlights illuminate a huge puppet version of Skale looming in the background, face contorted in maniacal laughter.

GIANT PUPPET SKALE (in huge, booming voice): "See what I do! I become large! Ho-hohohoho!"

Light returns to the stage; the mannikin and the puppet have disappeared. Skale is smiling widely like a madman. So is Mrs. Mawle. Miriam is still mooning at Spinrobin, whose mouth is hanging open in surprise and fear.

MIRIAM (to Spinrobin): "Oh Spinrobin! You are so tender, so wise, so very sensitive! I am yours! You are my Master!"

SPINROBIN (nervously, to Skale): "Bu-bu-bu-but what is thi-thi-this? The human voice is capable of such unnatural wonders by simply uttering the right notes? By naming the unnameable? I have always imagined this to be so, even as a child when playing with my beloved imaginary companion, Winky! But what will our human chord provoke? And what shall happen if a human chord is sung... incorrectly? (He looks significantly at Mrs. Mawle's ear horn and withered arm). What is your ultimate goal, Reverend Sir? Into what shall we be transformed?"

SKALE: "We shall become GOD, you dullard!
AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHA! HA!"

SPINROBIN: "Huh."



ACT III

SCENE:
A forest. Spinrobin and Miriam lie huddled behind some bushes, gazing at the back of the stage. There in the background is a huge mansion engulfed in flames (painted backdrop) and the sounds of a woman's alto and man's baritone can be heard singing fervently. The singing voices suddenly turn into agonized shrieks before being drowned in the sounds of crackling flames and a mansion collapsing.

SPINROBIN: "So that didn't go as expected."

MIRIAM: "You carried me away! Oh brave Spinrobin, my beloved, my Master! We shall live happily ever after! (She laughs hysterically, then covers his face with kisses.) There are many things I can do for you that we couldn't do in Heaven! Oh my sweet darling... let me meet Mr. Winky!"

SPINROBIN: "Well I guess I really didn't want to become God anyway. Heaven can wait."

(Sound of flames crackling increase.)



[END]

Thursday, March 28, 2013

Latawnya, the Naughty Horse, Learns to Say "No" to Drugs

by Sylvia Scott Gibson

Latawnya, the Naughty Horse, Learns to Say "No" to Drugs

A VERY SPECIAL LINK TO A VERY SPECIAL AUDIO RECORDING

Latawnya the horse woke up one fine spring morning, ready to eat and then ready to roll. She loved to gallop hither and thither. This was how she spent most of her days, eating and galloping and cavorting with her best friends, Betty Blue and Sir Cedric Fairyweather. She remembered that once it used to be different. The little human boy who lived next door liked to ride Latawnya, he used to feed her treats and stroke her mane... he used to be her best friend. All that changed with the arrival of her nemesis, the little pony named Brown Sugar. Nowadays, the human boy only had eyes for Brown Sugar. Once he had enjoyed Brown Sugar, he never went back. It made Latawnya quite upset.

Exiting her stable, she noticed that the infernal Brown Sugar was already out and about. She trotted up to the little pony, who eyed her with a smug and callow expression. Barely knowing what she was doing, Latawnya reared up and struck Brown Sugar in the head with her front hooves. Brown Sugar was instantly knocked out, and dropped to the ground like a stone weight - just as the human boy's mother came out onto her back patio. The human woman saw the fallen pony, and cried out "Latawnya, whatever have you done! You are surely a Naughty Horse!"

Latawnya yelled "Neigh!"(1) then quickly galloped off. Latawnya was not the kind of horse to deal with such trifling things as consequences.

So she ran hither and thither in the wide open spaces, eventually coming upon her best friends. Betty Blue was looking depressed, tragic, and slutty - per usual. Sir Cedric Fairyweather was looking fancy, with little bells and ribbons attached to his lovely mane - also per usual.

"Neigh!"(2) said Latawnya.

"Neigh!"(3) replied her friends, in unison.

Together the three of them cavorted, enjoying the sun and each other's company, relaxing as only horses know how to relax. Although there was the usual gossip and bitching, it was clear that the three of them loved life, and sunshine, and happiness. They did not need DRUGS. They did not even know what 'DRUGS' really were. But little did they know, the dark spectre of DRUGS was about to enter their carefree, horsey lives.

There was a strong, handsome, musky-smelling horse who Latawnya and her friends had a big crush on. He could run the fastest, neigh the loudest. His name was Heathcliff Spiritcatcher. He was not a gentle horse nor was he a kind horse. He had a real cocky attitude - and his friends Sporty, Jocko, Frathorse, and Swifty McCrowbar were just as bad. In truth, they were all a bunch of equine assholes. But Heathcliff Spiritcatcher was truly a good-looking specimen of male horsiness... and that was all that Latawnya and her friends really cared about. Thus did the shallowness of their youth lead them all down that terrible path... TO DRUGS!

As the lovely morning ended and the equally lovely afternoon began, up galloped Heathcliff and his crew. Latawnya noticed that they had a new horse with them - a shady looking fellow with a sallow hide and strangely dilated pupils. Latawnya snorted at him suspiciously.

"Neigh! Neigh!"(4) said Heathcliff.

"Neigh!"(5) said Latawnya, Betty, and Sir Cedric in unison.

"Neigh?"(6) asked Heathcliff, tossing his head towards his shady new friend. Before they even answered, he said quickly "Neigh? Neigh. Neigh?"(7)

"Neigh!"(8) said Betty Blue.

"Neigh!"(9) said Sir Cedric Fairyweather.

"...Neigh..."(10) mumbled Latawnya.

And so the shady horse Rattleshirt ambled over to Betty Blue, shook his mane, and a little brown cube fell to the ground in front of Betty - who ate it right up. He did the same for Sir Cedric. When he looked over at Latawnya, she pointedly looked the other way. She had decidedly mixed feelings about this shady horse and she didn't understand why her handsome Heathcliff would even be hanging out with such gutter trash. He looked like he used to be a common racing horse! Latawnya gazed into the blue yonder and wondered what she should do in this odd situation. She began to ruminate on whether there would ever be a real future between her and Heathcliff.

Some troubling noises slowly brought her back to reality. She saw that Betty Blue was really out of it, whinnying in a confused yet excited manner. Jocko & Sporty quickly rolled up on Betty... and without further ado, began to take turns mounting her! Latawnya was shocked and upset. She turned to Sir Cedric, who had a glazed look in his eyes as he watched the sordid scene. And then Sir Cedric, in a rather stumbly gait, went over to Frathorse & Swifty McCrowbar... and presented himself rearward as they whinnied their approval! Latawnya just didn't know what to think. It was all so sudden, so horrible. These sorts of activities made her very uncomfortable. Latawnya felt that she was the kind of horse who always kept it real - but also kept it classy. Would her friends even be acting this way if they weren't under the influence... OF DRUGS?

She noticed Heathcliff and Rattleshirt smirking at each other - and then at her! Together they trotted confidently towards her, leering suggestively.

"Neigh? Neigh!"(11) said Heathcliff with a randy grin.

Latawnya didn't know what to say. She wanted to run away. She couldn't believe what kind of horse Heathcliff was turning out to be. She glanced down and noticed his member - it was stiffening! It was growing in anticipation... of what? He definitely had her confused with the wrong horse if he thought she could be had this easily! Suddenly she felt really pissed off.

She reared up and struck Heathcliff in the brow with her front hooves, struck him repeatedly, so hard that blood spurted everywhere. She turned and wildly dealt the same hand to the stunned Rattleshirt. Two horses went down. Brains spilled out and the blood ran red then black.

"Neigh!"(12) shouted Latawnya hysterically, and quickly galloped away from the grim tableau.

Latawnya had learned the ultimate way to Just Say 'No' to Drugs... a truly hard-earned lesson indeed!
_________________________

TRANSLATION

(1) Fuck Off!
(2) What up, my peeps!
(3) What up, girl!
(4) What up! It's a mighty fine day!
(5) You know it!
(6) Hey have you met my bro Rattleshirt?
(7) Hey wanna do some drugs? My number one dude here just scored. Y'all wannna have a good time?
(8) Gimme!
(9) That would be divine!
(10) ....Um, I dunno about that...
(11) So you wanna party too? Get over here girl, let's get it crackin'!
(12) Fuck Off!

Ghost

by John Ringo

Ghost (Paladin of Shadows, #1)

A REPORT FROM ROBOT PLANET

TO: X-1 Prime, Supreme Overlord of Robot Matrix, Grand Endeavor Cmdr.
FROM: Scientific Analyst SLJLK92349UO, Earth Invasion Exploratory Unit
CC: Prince BOB, Holy Prior of the Negativ Legion
CC: Queen Kardeater of the Insectoid Empire
BCC: Shadowagent markmonday
ATTACHMENT 1: John Ringo, former Test Subject
ATTACHMENT 2: the novel Ghost by John Ringo

SUBJECT: Earth
__________________________________________________

Target: John Ringo acquired by Shadowpuppet A. Coulter using Tactic 7-B3:
Invitation to Wild Sex Party at Dennis Miller’s Mansion.

Target: Ghost acquired via Amazon for $0.01 + $3.99 shipping & handling.

Subject A: John Ringo is former Specialist in 82nd Airborne Division of U.S. Army. Post discharge, subject became author of several series in several genres and occasional guest commentator on Fox News Channel (itself a Shadowagency of Robot Matrix). Subject A is currently non-organic due to extensive exploratory nature of Scientific Analysis.
[Shadowpuppet “John Ringo-1” has replaced organic target on Earth; no adverse reactions from Subject A’s peer or familial groupings have been noted regarding replacement.]

Subject B: Ghost is “Action/Adventure Genre Novel” and features exploits of government operative Mike _____, code name ‘Ghost’. Subject B is perhaps less-than-typical example of genre, due to extremely low technical ability of writing overall, including: flaccid narrative; profusion of racial/ gender/ political stereotypes; two-dimensional characterization; risible dialogue; incessant and misguided references to Sparta, Robert Frost, and "Goth" music; tedious preponderance of both military-grade weapons detail-pornography and graphic sexual pornography. Despite inferior quality of novel, it offers range of absorbing topics on Earth life to consider; in particular, Earth gender dynamics per author. Subject B: Ghost has tri-parte structure and so this report will analyze each section sequentially.

Part One: Winter Born

Narrative in Part One details attempts of Middle Eastern nation Syria to engage in terrorist acts towards United States of America. Plans include kidnapping of 50 young American college women, torture/ rape/ murder of women, and broadcasting of activities to American public. While stalking single young woman on college campus that they both attend (apparently typical pasttime for protagonist), Operative Ghost witnesses kidnapping, follows and then successfully engages kidnappers, secretly boards plane containing previously captured college women, and eventually destroys entire operation (his actions also include elimination of Osama bin Laden and Syrian President Bashar al-Assad).

Although narrative itself is trite and poorly written, there is much to be evaluated regarding mindset of reactionary Red-Blooded American Male aka RBA Male towards the female of the species (and, to a lesser degree, RBA Male’s nationalism and feelings towards educational institutions). In sum, protagonist and author appear to view female of species as worthy of protection and as target for sexual attention, but having little value in most other regards and suitable primarily for mockery. General and inherent stupidity of females who act as politicians, news reporters, and students is reported with extreme frequency. During rescue attempts, protagonist often engages in “cheeky banter” and “casual playfulness” with abused women, in particular by pointedly staring at parts of their naked forms that he finds sexually appealing, and by openly and repeatedly mocking their limited minds and thoughtless absorption into useless liberal edifices such as college. Throughout his rescue, Ghost suggests detainees reward him post-rescue with sexual activities including “blow-jobs” and encourages detainees to not hold terrorist actions against all RBA Males by "turning lesbian"; overcome by gratitude, detainees promise to engage in such rewards and reject all forms of liberalism. It should also be noted that author does include several examples of “useful” women: specifically those women who are members of college ROTC, are able to handle weapons, follow directions, and promise to reward protagonist with “blow-jobs” post-release. Irony of situation of protagonist - who self-defines by stating “I am a Rapist” (in thought but not yet deed) and who spends spare time stalking nubile students whom he despises - now being placed in role of rescuer, where he is sole source of succor to those he stalked and despised, is only slightly noted by protagonist and author. Perhaps irony (and ironic wish fulfillment inherent in situation) is implicit within story itself.

Throughout novel, author engages in striking form of character development for support players: prior to elimination by Ghost, each terrorist is given short history - including country of origin, level of education, level of antipathy towards Americans, personal thoughts and goals, etc. This is unusual tactic and purpose is unknown. Is this to provide a dossier to readers on wide range of potential terrorists and their personal background, perhaps to inspire reader suspicion towards all individuals hailing from countries in Middle East as potential terrorists? Unknown. Author also places epithet “Raghead” into mouths of many characters (including protagonist, U.S. President, others) and describes Middle Eastern countries as automatically dirty and filled with trash. “Liberals” are also given similar treatment; most notable is sequence where liberal American commentators blame predicament on kidnap victims themselves. Perhaps this is seen as typical “Liberal” behavior by author? If so, assertion is incorrect; Robot Matrix has noted Tactic Blame the Victim is also frequently used by “Reactionary” human demographic and associated institutions. Despite ongoing contempt displayed towards Middle East and Liberals, author and protagonist neglect to discuss positive elements of U.S. and instead appear content to solely describe negative attributes. Result is that author and protagonist appear to be apolitical and ignorant of various successes of many American institutions, both liberal and conservative. A curious kind of "patriot" in that genuine patriotism appears to be absent. This tunnel-vision and mindless vitriol bodes well for our Grand Endeavor; such individuals are often easiest for Robot Matrix to manipulate through well-tested “Knee-Jerk” Propaganda Campaigns and diverse Shadowpuppet Politicians and Media Commentators.

Part Two: Thunder Island

It should first be noted that section title is one of this Scientific Analyst’s favorite Earth songs, from classic “Easy Listening” era.

Narrative in second section is highly unusual. First two-thirds are concerned with Ghost’s new life as multi-millionaire living on yacht in Bahamas (due to reward from American President), his encounter with and subsequent seduction of two female college students (ages 18 and 19), large amount of water-vehicle detail-pornography, regular appraisal of Ghost’s apparently pleasingly muscular form by two teenagers, and introduction of students into rigorous and time-consuming world of sadomasochistic role play. There are many sexual encounters explicitly detailed throughout many pages. There is much discussion of “boundaries”, “safe words” and “safe sounds” (the latter due to gags), and “the high of complete submission”. There is discussion between Ghost and students’ mothers; both turn out to be “swingers” and “bottoms”, and both eventually encourage Ghost’s attentions – even consenting to request for daughters’ birth certificates. Dialogue in these sequences is of such amusingly unrealistic, artificial, and juvenile nature that at first this Scientific Analyst thought it may all be highly comic and stylized dream sequence. When this proved incorrect, this Scientific Analyst concluded that author had never actually experienced dialogue with teenagers, perhaps never engaged in “Flirting Ritual”, clearly had no skill in introducing individuals to sadomasochism, and may have generally experienced very poor results from prior sexual encounters resulting in awkwardly described fantasy sexual scenarios. Intensive questioning of Subject A: John Ringo on topic did not prove conclusive.

Remaining narrative in Part Two is concerned with sudden need for Ghost to disarm nuclear device that happens to be in vicinity of his pleasure-yacht, at request of American government. This activity – which interrupts sado-masochistic role play – proceeds at swift pace, with more military-grade weapons detail-pornography and more dossiers on individuals who will be shortly slain by Ghost. This Scientific Analyst must admit to skimming these rather monotonous pages.

Part Three: The Dark Side

Third section of novel’s narrative concerns buying and transporting of nuclear military device in and through Eastern Europe and Russia by Chechen terrorists, and successful mission for Ghost where he thwarts detonation of weapon in Paris (target: the Pope) and captures Middle Eastern terrorist responsible in Holland. There are also passages detailing rape of female minor in Eastern Europe by novel’s hero and various consensual sexual situations in Holland by novel’s hero and his colleague.

“Action/Adventure” portions of section were typical in their low-level writing skills, inability to sustain tension, and use of rote generalizations towards various individuals, institutions, and countries – in particular women, and France in general. If this Scientific Analyst were capable of human feelings e.g. “boredom” and human reactions e.g. “yawning”, such activities would have no doubt occurred. It may even be said that if this Scientific Analyst were human, s/he may have chosen to simply engage in self-pleasure while imagining his/her own personalized sado-masochistic fantasy – possibly involving Subject A: John Ringo – rather than being tricked into reading intense depiction of nonconsensual sex with minor that is shoehorned within puerile, unimaginative “Action/Adventure”.

It is important to focus briefly on lengthy and highly graphic sequence where Ghost rents, abuses, rapes, spoons and naps with, abuses again, rapes again, spoons and naps with again, and then rapes a third time an inexperienced 15-year old Eastern European whore with "very large breasts that were still high and full". Emphasis placed on fear, crying, and internal dryness of victim. At one point, novel’s hero punches purchased teenager in kidneys – her subsequent pain and surprise thus allowing him to make sudden anal entry. An unusual hero indeed!

Protagonist suffers some slight feelings of guilt, post rape and torture. Immediate action is to toss on victim's back amount worth half-year’s wage, upon which she replies "Is okay. Not like, much hurt, much… bad memory.” She got to the end of the quick count and looked at him again, curiously. “But for this, is okay. Would do again.” To which Ghost replies, "Yeah. But then you’d be acting. It wouldn’t be the same.” Later, Ghost feels more twinges of conscience and takes victim away from brothel, promising freedom and happier life. In Paris, victim finds older man as new associate and, after writing thank-you note to Ghost for her extraction, promptly leaves narrative. Important to note Qualifying Nature of various character reactions. Author clearly enjoys describing brutal rape (and protagonist Ghost enjoys repeatedly pointing out to victim that he is raping her, in order to better enjoy victim's emotional discomfort/ psychological trauma)... and also makes clear that victim's rape has lasting positive results through subsequent rescue of victim from squalid life in brothel. She has suffered, but is better off due to rape. And so Ghost’s conscience is allowed to rest, appeased. And so low-level human reader is also allowed to breathe sigh of relief and proceed through remainder of novel, guilt-free.

If such heroes are typical of RBA Male fantasies (and if such authors, and such readers who enjoy such novels, are also typical of human population), Robot Matrix should have no difficulty in drafting RBA Males to our cause of total subjugation of all Earth species/resources. Objectives of Robot Matrix and fellow Axis members' upcoming Grand Endeavor on Earth appear to be in line with RBA Male’s own personal goals/ideals. This Scientific Analyst recommends: (1) quickly acquiring valuable RBA Male assets; (2) activating Shadowagent markmonday; and (3) approving immediate escalation of Grand Endeavor/ Robot Matrix-Insectoid Empire-Negativ Legion activities. If this Scientific Analyst’s evaluation of RBA Male demographic is correct, our Grand Endeavor will soon find many natural allies on this planet Earth.

Gods of the Jungle Planet

by Vernon D. Burns

Gods of the Jungle Planet

Monday

mark monday woke up and realized he had a protuberance growing out of his forehead. It itched a bit but wasn't particularly uncomfortable. mark glanced up to the mirror on his ceiling and saw what appeared to be a scorpion tail sprouting from the middle of his forehead. Well now this is an odd development, thought mark. Curiously, he began to stroke the scorpion tail, idly at first, then with increasing speed. He stopped, suddenly feeling guilty for some unknown reason. Okay, just once more, with feeling. He began stroking anew until, surprisingly, a large load of viscous fluid started spurting out, all over his face. Oh my! Is this some fell combination of scorpion venom and brain matter? He licked his lips. It tastes toxic but rather delicious! He lay back on his satin sheets and sighed. This is certainly the start of an unusual day. Later, he scooped up the remaining dried matter and put it into his empty cigarette case. Perhaps I should have this analyzed!

Tuesday

At his day job at the Sparkle Magic Love Institute, mark slowly removed his bacterial data analyzer from the rectum of the vat-bred miniature sexraptor. He inspected it carefully. Curious and curiouser! thought mark. There appears to be living spermatazoa swimming throughout the rectal mucous! He looked at the vat-bred miniature sexraptor suspiciously. Now what have you been up to today? After glancing around and noticing no one, mark carefully wiped off his analyzer inside his cigarette case.

Wednesday

Sweating happily away during his daily session at Gold's Gym, mark stopped to lovingly admire himself in the mirror. Delicious, mark thought. Just delicious. mark lifted up his shirt to ogle his sweaty sixpack. He rubbed his belly in the typically satisfied way of all muscular alpha males. He smiled dreamily, then noticed his darling girlfriend Caris making her way over to him. Turning around, he ran over to her and lifted her up off of her feet, then suddenly slung her petite body over his wide, muscular shoulders and began whirling around, hooting happily in a typical alpha male manner. Little did he realize... it was Wet Wednesday for Caris, and during his typical alpha male tomfoolery, an extra-large Maxi pad flew out from the bottom of his sweet Caris's vintage gym shorts. He froze. Perhaps no one will notice. He carefully put his darling Caris back down on her feet. He realized his sweet Caris was drunk out of her sweet mind and probably hadn't noticed a thing. Drunk at the gym! Oh, my darling Caris, how typical! He surreptitiously picked up the sopping wet Maxi pad and put it in his pocket. Later, in the locker room, he wrung it out into his cigarette case.

Thursday

mark took his lunch break at the local strip joint, Hell's Kittens. It was usually his favorite place to relax. But today it was just making him sad. And nostalgic. He tried to focus on the heaving mammaries of the delightful stripper before him, but for some reason he could only think of his long-lost twin brother Michael, and the wonderful sexy times they'd had together, doing the things that typical muscular alpha males do to each other when no one is watching, etc, etc, et al. He pictured Michael's effervescent, shit-eating grin. What a man he was! And now forever lost! The thought made him sick. He pictured Michael in his mind, laughing and carrying on. He remembered the little pieces of joy they'd shared together. He remembered how Michael had made mark giggle all the time, even though his jokes weren't very funny. Michael.... He remembered his twin brother's love of mother's milk, taken straight from mom up until college - in the typical alpha male style. Suddenly he noticed that the lovely stripper before him must be a mother as well because her various sexy exertions were causing her to spill her own seepings all over his table. Such serendipity! Such profound coincidence! mark opened his cigarette case and began to push the thick drops of lactate within.

Friday

mark caught a rat in an alley. He collected rats, a typical alpha male pasttime. This was an unusual specimen. All of its purple and green veins could be seen through the skin, the wiring that kept the ugly beast functioning. It looked up at him with a brutal, subhuman look, clearly full of the petty jealousy and vindictive envy that such little creatures have towards typical muscular alpha males like himself. So he snapped its neck. He pulled out his cigarette case, and placing it carefully under the rat's head, began to squeeze that head again and again and again. The mashed head began to drip...

Saturday

Caris beckoned to him from across the basement floor. She was horny and ready to go home, ready to enjoy his typical muscular alpha male attentions. But he wasn't going anywhere right now; mating would have to wait. It was Saturday Night Fight Club time! He pulled out his sword and launched into the battle, cleaving a head with one swift swing. The blood from his victim sprayed over his face, giving him a very cool and intimidating look. He felt virile and unstoppable. He was ready to face the Gods. Much later, in the bathroom, mark wiped the blood from his face and into his cigarette case. He hawked up some thick manly loogies as well, and spat them in for good measure. He shook the case vigorously.

Sunday

mark woke up hungry. Breakfast in Bed? But Caris was nowhere to be found, she must have slipped out early. This made him grouchy. As a typical muscular alpha male, he expected Sunday Breakfast in Bed. So hungry! He noticed his cigarette case on the table next to him. His stomach growled. He looked at the case again. It is very important for the typical muscular alpha male to have his daily protein intake rationalized mark. He was indeed very hungry. Typical muscular alpha males are always hungry. Hungry for everything. Hungry for anything. Protein... Must Have Protein. He picked up the cigarette case. It felt heavy. It felt warm and inviting. It felt delicious. His stomach growled again. Okay, Let's Do This. He opened up his cigarette case. A thick, musky, sexy, primal, intensely raw and manly smell steamed out...

...it was the Sweet Smell of Success. It was the Odor of Victory. It was the Timeless Scent of a Real Man, with a little bit of homo tossed in...

*
*
*
*
*

...and then out popped Gods of the Jungle Planet!
[Monday

mark monday woke up and realized he had a protuberance growing out of his forehead. It itched a bit but wasn't particularly uncomfortable. mark glanced up to the mirror on his ceiling and saw what appeared to be a scorpion tail sprouting from the middle of his forehead. Well now this is an odd development, thought mark. Curiously, he began to stroke the scorpion tail, idly at first, then with increasing speed. He stopped, suddenly feeling guilty for some unknown reason. Okay, just once more, with feeling. He began stroking anew until, surprisingly, a large load of viscous fluid started spurting out, all over his face. Oh my! Is this some fell combination of scorpion venom and brain matter? He licked his lips. It tastes toxic but rather delicious! He lay back on his satin sheets and sighed. This is certainly the start of an unusual day. Later, he scooped up the remaining dried matter and put it into his empty cigarette case. Perhaps I should have this analyzed!


Tuesday

At his day job at the Sparkle Magic Love Institute, mark slowly removed his bacterial data analyzer from the rectum of the vat-bred miniature sexraptor. He inspected it carefully. Curious and curiouser! thought mark. There appears to be living spermatazoa swimming throughout the rectal mucous! He looked at the vat-bred miniature sexraptor suspiciously. Now what have you been up to today? After glancing around and noticing no one, mark carefully wiped off his analyzer inside his cigarette case.


Wednesday

Sweating happily away during his daily session at Gold's Gym, mark stopped to lovingly admire himself in the mirror. Delicious, mark thought. Just delicious. mark lifted up his shirt to ogle his sweaty sixpack. He rubbed his belly in the typically satisfied way of all muscular alpha males. He smiled dreamily, then noticed his darling girlfriend Caris making her way over to him. Turning around, he ran over to her and lifted her up off of her feet, then suddenly slung her petite body over his wide, muscular shoulders and began whirling around, hooting happily in a typical alpha male manner. Little did he realize... it was Wet Wednesday for Caris, and during his typical alpha male tomfoolery, an extra-large Maxi pad flew out from the bottom of his sweet Caris's vintage gym shorts. He froze. Perhaps no one will notice. He carefully put his darling Caris back down on her feet. He realized his sweet Caris was drunk out of her sweet mind and probably hadn't noticed a thing. Drunk at the gym! Oh, my darling Caris, how typical! He surreptitiously picked up the sopping wet Maxi pad and put it in his pocket. Later, in the locker room, he wrung it out into his cigarette case.


Thursday

mark took his lunch break at the local strip joint, Hell's Kittens. It was usually his favorite place to relax. But today it was just making him sad. And nostalgic. He tried to focus on the heaving mammaries of the delightful stripper before him, but for some reason he could only think of his long-lost twin brother Michael, and the wonderful sexy times they'd had together, doing the things that typical muscular alpha males do to each other when no one is watching, etc, etc, et al. He pictured Michael's effervescent, shit-eating grin. What a man he was! And now forever lost! The thought made him sick. He pictured Michael in his mind, laughing and carrying on. He remembered the little pieces of joy they'd shared together. He remembered how Michael had made mark giggle all the time, even though his jokes weren't very funny. Michael.... He remembered his twin brother's love of mother's milk, taken straight from mom up until college - in the typical alpha male style. Suddenly he noticed that the lovely stripper before him must be a mother as well because her various sexy exertions were causing her to spill her own seepings all over his table. Such serendipity! Such profound coincidence! mark opened his cigarette case and began to push the thick drops of lactate within.


Friday

mark caught a rat in an alley. He collected rats, a typical alpha male pasttime. This was an unusual specimen. All of its purple and green veins could be seen through the skin, the wiring that kept the ugly beast functioning. It looked up at him with a brutal, subhuman look, clearly full of the petty jealousy and vindictive envy that such little creatures have towards typical muscular alpha males like himself. So he snapped its neck. He pulled out his cigarette case, and placing it carefully under the rat's head, began to squeeze that head again and again and again. The mashed head began to drip...


Saturday

Caris beckoned to him from across the basement floor. She was horny and ready to go home, ready to enjoy his typical muscular alpha male attentions. But he wasn't going anywhere right now; mating would have to wait. It was Saturday Night Fight Club time! He pulled out his sword and launched into the battle, cleaving a head with one swift swing. The blood from his victim sprayed over his face, giving him a very cool and intimidating look. He felt virile and unstoppable. He was ready to face the Gods. Much later, in the bathroom, mark wiped the blood from his face and into his cigarette case. He hawked up some thick manly loogies as well, and spat them in for good measure. He shook the case vigorously.


Sunday

mark woke up hungry. Breakfast in Bed? But Caris was nowhere to be found, she must have slipped out early. This made him grouchy. As a typical muscular alpha male, he expected Sunday Breakfast in Bed. So hungry! He noticed his cigarette case on the table next to him. His stomach growled. He looked at the case again. It is very important for the typical muscular alpha male to have his daily protein intake rationalized mark. He was indeed very hungry. Typical muscular alpha males are always hungry. Hungry for everything. Hungry for anything. Protein... Must Have Protein. He picked up the cigarette case. It felt heavy. It felt warm and inviting. It felt delicious. His stomach growled again. Okay, Let's Do This. He opened up his cigarette case. A thick, musky, sexy, primal, intensely raw and manly smell steamed out.

It was the Sweet Smell of Success. It was the Odor of Victory. It was the Timeless Scent of a Real Man, with a little bit of homo tossed in.
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And then out popped Gods of the Jungle Planet!

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