Cut and Run, Chapter 1 (Allen Belushi Cycle 1)

Cut and Run, Chapter 1

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<<<Author’s Note (May 4, 2021)- if you’re the kind of person whose eyes bleed at the sight of two males boinking a single female, then I recommend that you skip over Chapter 20.

If you wish to read through anyways, I’ll give you a ‘heads up’ warning- so that  you can skip over the dreadful part- and spare yourself the mind warping shame and horror.
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Have you ever woken up and think that there is something ‘wrong’ with the world? I don’t mean ‘wrong’ in that the morning showed up way too early, again. Nor do I mean that you woke up with a Coyote Date because you drank too much the night before- wrong.

I mean that kind of wrong that hits you, when you look around your bedroom, or the place you’re staying at, or everywhere and anywhere else you go; you notice that despite everything being in all of their ‘proper’ places,  you still get the weirdest sensation that everything is still somehow…wrong?

That maybe, just maybe, on the way to work you might notice that everything around you is in the wrong place? Or that you don’t remember that building there before, or there was a building there, but now there is a big hole in the ground that has obviously been there for years and years.

Have you ever felt like that?  I do. I do all of the fucking time. I know you have. Everyone has. The difference between you, me, and everyone else, is that I’m honest enough to cop to it.

Everyone else is too afraid to. They are so damnably afraid of being labeled crazy for even bringing it up, let alone discussing it with a shrink. That’s but one reason, out of many, why I never seem to get along with anyone else. Everyone else can see something so fucking blatantly WRONG, yet all they do, is they Just Look Away.

It’s as if they can’t see it, it’ll stop being wrong if they ignore it long enough. Well sometimes that shit works.

Let me back up.

I have an idea. This idea is something along the lines of: the “Multiple World Hypothesis’ that the Physicists have come up with. It is in a nutshell: every decision you’ve ever made, every event that has ever occurred, whether it be a yes or a no, both ending events exists somewhere in the Multiverse.

Say you joined the Army at 18. It was a choice between the Army, the Air Force, the Navy, or the Marines. Yeah, yeah, yeah, and the Coast Guard too.
But, you chose the Army. Now, according to the physicists, there are worlds where you didn’t join the Army. Instead you joined one of the other branches. Or you decided to be a pacifist, or…you get the idea, right?

There are multiple you’s, in multiple worlds, all over what is called the Multiverse. Get the idea? According to the physicists, every one of those choices in what you decided- all exists somewhere. These worlds, all split off with every decision you’ve ever made.

Well, my idea? Is the notion that with every world that splits apart, it’s just as likely that two worlds combine together, like two drops of water combining to make a bigger drop of water.

 But, those worlds that combine together aren’t always necessarily compatible worlds. That, these two worlds that are somehow forced together, end up making a newer world that the inhabitants of, notice that some weird shit is going on. And that the time that they notice all this, is when they wake up in the morning. I mean, who hasn’t woken up and wondered: Where the Fuck am I? (Without  booze being involved.)

We remember things being a certain way- such as a world in which say, Monster Girls never existed, except maybe in some obscure bit of Hentai Manga on the net.

Don’t look at me like that, OK? I know, I know, it sounds fucking insane. But that’s where I’m coming from, Ok? So just play along, why don’t you? Indulge the nice freaky man his wild assed theories.

Now, as I was saying: Two worlds. One world where Monster Girls never existed and one world in which they’ve only existed for the last seventy odd years. The two combine, and what do you end up with? What our world is now. At least that’s what it seems like to me. I remember places that don’t exist, and I don’t remember places that do exist. Fucked up, huh?

What? When did I first notice this? A while ago. I remember going on that hike down the Pacific crest trail on a sort of Walkabout (as Crocodile Dundee explains it in that movie of hers). A memorial hike down from Canada all the way down to Mexico, and then back up to Yosemite to complete my plans. Well that was my intention at least.

What were my plans you ask? They were, to do the complete P.C.T. hike that both I and my wife had intended to do originally, separately.  We met near the hot springs near Sisters Oregon. Wouldn’t you know it? We hit it off and we kept hiking further south together. Then we got to Yosemite Valley, she showed me some of her favorite spots, the next thing I know, we’re getting married at the base of Yosemite Falls by the local magistrate: Judge Roy Pitts. Freaky huh?

It was a good run that. But then she died. I don’t wanna talk about that if you don’t mind. After a couple of years of moping about, I decided to take her urn that contained her ashes along with me as I hiked the P.C.T., again. So in a way, I guess you could say that we both ended up ‘hiking’ the full length of the trail together. Just like we promised we would do again someday.

I made it all the way to Mexico, and then I was on my way back to Yosemite to complete my plans. Or, that was my intention at least.

I think I can guess when the combining of our two worlds occurred. I was up late talking to myself. Well, actually talking to Chiara. Or, I was talking to Chiara as if she was there, alive and breathing. I’d been doing that ever since she died.

 Anyways, it was a beautiful night on the trail, but then such nights usually are. I was as far away as I could get from the city lights that blot out the Milky-Way in all of her glory. There was just the occasional shooting star or the I.S.S. marking up the heavens. Oh, what’s that? What’s an Eye-Ess-Ess you say? Aaaaah….never mind! You would never believe me. Back to my story.

Then suddenly- Aurora Borealis! All across the sky! One second it was just the Milky-way, and the next: I’m seeing Mother Nature’s laser show. It filled the complete sky! That’s the weird part! You don’t get the Aurora that far south, well not very often that is, almost never. And if it does, it’s just a spurt or two.

But this, it was Spectacular. I’ve been up near Iceland and saw it then, and it wasn’t as wonderful there, as it was on that night in the southern part of the Sierra Nevada. I went to sleep watching it flow and dance and well, everything.

The next morning, I hiked into the next town to drop off some trash for recycling and to get some supplies, and that was when I discovered that the world had changed. I mean, REALLY had changed.  The monster girls were everywhere now. I was picked up by a pair of Forest Ranger Minotaurs. Good thing they already had husbands, otherwise my story would’ve ended up being way different. But here’s the thing. I didn’t remember Monster Girls existing before. Yet somehow, I did. That’s just wrong, you know what I mean?

They were wondering what a lone male was doing wandering about without his wife. They seemed most surprised, when I told them I didn’t have a wife. The way they reacted, you’d think I told them I was from Mars! Then one of them told me  I had to come along with them.

Well, I tried to explain to them that I had other things to do, but they didn’t wanna listen to me. It’s like that old saw: Where does a five hundred pound Minotaur sit? Anywhere she wants to.

I was diplomatic about it. Or, I tried to be that is. I think my reply came out along the lines of: “Bite Me, You Freaky Assed Fuck Face!”, or something like that.

Well anyways, when I finally regained consciousness, I found myself aboard a train headed for parts east, and I was trussed up like a Krampus Day Turkey. I soon found out that I was suspended horizontally about a couple of feet from the ceiling of the luggage car, with my head banging against the wall in tune with the swaying of the train.

Turning my head I was able to view below me a Green Oni who appeared to be my guard. She was sitting in a chair underneath me, occasionally glancing up, but with most of her attention fixed upon that Eastern Asian crossword puzzle, what do they call it again? Soo-boo-koo?

What’s Asian you say? I meant to say Mist Continent! My bad.

After a couple of hours of my hanging there, I asked her if she could let me go so I could take care of some business. I asked her politely several times to let me go. I even said the magic word: Asshole.

What’s that? Oh sure, whatever pal. You’ve got your magic and I’ve got mine.

But she’d just give me a look every now and again and never said a word in reply. She just always went silently back to that damned fool crossword of hers. But even with all that, I finally managed to convince her to let me out of the restraints. The reason I requested to be let out was that I needed to ‘shake the weasel’, and no I wasn’t talking about a Raiju.

I mean like I REALLY needed to. Well the inevitable happened, and remember, she was sitting below me.

After she let me down, and she got her foot off my chest, she let me go clean up in the train car’s restroom with her keeping an eye on me. I couldn’t blame her. As I would have been wanting to get cleaned up too, if someone had pissed on me. After that, I managed to get her a bit more peeved at me.

Ok, Ok, I think I can understand her point of view now. I may have ‘accidentally’ locked her in the restroom, and I may have ‘accidentally’ hit the train’s emergency brake cable. But I mean c’mon here, shit happens. All I knew was that I was getting further and further away from where I wanted to be.

After ditching the Meanie Greenie, I was able to locate in short order, my backpack with my wife and daughter’s ashes still in them. So I bugged out of the stopped train and headed back out for parts west.

Unfortunately, I didn’t get far. As that Oni tracked me down right quick! All of the other passengers snitched on me. Those Bitches! Well that Oni made sure I was on my best behavior afterwards. I guess you could say that Shibari just comes natural to a native of Japa….excuse me! Zipangu! No I didn’t say Japan, what makes you say I did! That’s Libel pal! Don’t be putting words in my mouth, and stop writing that shit down!

Oh, my daughter’s ashes you ask?
Yeah, I had a daughter once, for all of an hour. The missus was so happy to have a baby and I was too. I was gonna get to be a Daddy!

It was a complicated birth, to say the least. Mine beloved was still hopped up on the drugs due to the Caesarian that they resorted to; when the Shoggoth Doc took me aside and told me the status of my first born. I knew something was up when she asked me to sit down first.

Turns out that my daughter was born without a rather necessary part of her: a brain, Ancephalo something or other, I think it’s called. She told me that the only way my little girl was going to live was by the help of machines and that she’d never get better.  You know what happened next.
I ‘pulled the plug’. What else could I do? I failed her once, so I had to fail her again. Shit.

Then I fail my wife by lying my ass off to her. I told her that our little girl was a still born. She cried, but she bounced back from that in fairly short order. She was all raring to go to make another baby. But I couldn’t.

In the interim I did my own homework, and found out that in my family- such happened regularly. I always thought I was an only child. It turns out that I had had at least 3 siblings that I never knew about until I confronted my Old Man enough times till he coughed up the truth.

He and I stopped talking after that, that fucktard. It was only a couple of broken bones- easily patched up. So what’s the big whoop?

So what could I do? It’s the job of a parent to protect their kids, no matter the cost. And I fucked up- Big Time! I couldn’t even sire a kid who could survive on her own. So I went and got myself fixed. Vasectomy it’s called. Wipe that sneer off your face asshole!

I had to do it without the wife’s knowledge. I had to, because I knew she’d never agree to it. The Doc was reluctant to as well, until I showed him the results of my family’s history of baby making. Which Doc was that you say? I can’t remember, it was so long ago! What do you mean my records don’t indicate that I had a Vasectomy?  You folks did that inspection. A rather thorough one too I might add. For a while there I was beginning to think that that Succubus Nurse wasn’t ever gonna get done.

So, I just pretend I’m too sore from work for a few days to make a baby with her. She was very understanding, as we had plenty of time to try the next month. Or we would’ve, if it weren’t for that texting driver. After that, I discovered just how fucking annoying other people can get.

Now, getting back to my story: I tried to pass the time as best I could during my trip to parts east while I was all tied up. For the most part it consisted of my trying to wiggle myself out of the ropes that Elphaba’s elder sister had tied me up with.

After I’d managed to get free the second time, I managed to get a chance to look at a map of the Continental States. Apparently the train I was on? Its destination was someplace I knew of, yet never heard of before: Monster Girl City. It’s located on the border of the Older United States and the Confederated States, in disputed territory.  That site was chosen, according to the guidebook I scrounged, for the city in an effort to make humans set aside their differences. A sort of ‘No-Man’s Land’, yeah some surveying asshole with a sense of humor.

I would’ve read more about all that, but that was when the Savage She-Hulk’s clone managed to track me down. After that she checked her knot tying on a regular basis. Fuck.

And that is why I showed up at the Oklahoma Panhandle Detention Facility in the condition you see me now, counselor.

What’s an Oklahoma you say? Last, I heard it was supposed to be a great place to get sucked off by a Marid. That was a joke. Oh, never mind.

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Doctor’s Note:
Mr. Allen Belushi, appears to have a Schizoaffective Personality Disorder as evidenced by his paranoid delusion concerning ‘parallel’ worlds combining together.

Investigating his past, I discovered that, yes, he was in fact widowed approximately two and a half years ago., and the further details concerning his child also hold up under scrutiny. Under such circumstances, his subsequent personality change(s) are understandable.

Normally I’d recommend observation at a proper Mental Care facility, but due to the recent change of governments, his continued stay at the now converted Super Max Facility is highly recommended instead.

Perhaps his pairing with an appropriate Monster Girl might be ‘just the ticket’ for an improved prognosis of his condition.

Mr. Belushi’s still insists on naming a non-existent Medical Provider as being the one who performed that highly illegal sterilization of his. I am confident that with time and patience, I’ll be able to ferret out the real name of that scoundrel.

Thank you for your time in reading my report.

Dr. Herhes Erote.

Clinical Psychologist, Draco Division, MGC-General Hospital

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3 months later.

‘Fuck, my eyes hurt.’ I thought to myself as I leaned back from the lighted magnifying glass from which I’d been staring through, at yet another misspelled Ofuda.

Closing my eyes to give them a break, I thought about why I’m giving such extraordinary attention to this kind of detail work. ‘Ushi-Oni!  Ushi-Oni is why you’re busting a nut on this task you set yourself.’ I told myself.

Normally Ofuda are written in ink on paper. But these weren’t your normal run-of-the-mill Ofuda. Oh no. These were machine-stitched Ofuda, ‘written’ on hemp fabric. So why the extra work for such a little trinket? Because these Ofuda were meant for a particularly nasty sort of Musume, or Mamono, or whatever the fucking jerk-offs from on high are telling us to call them nowadays: Ushi-Oni Ofuda. These things were made for them to wear, in an effort to damp down their super-charged libidos so that the men they were banging could keep up with them.

Only problem was, some asswipe somewhere, got lazy in the production process of this particular batch and didn’t notice that the automated stitching machines had screwed up the Kanji characters. Instead of the Shinto-blessed-Ofuda talisman doing what it was supposed to do: chilling a particular Spider girl’s lust way down to: mildly ferocious. Instead, it got her amped up to like, eleven. The result of which, ended up with some poor dude literally getting his weenie fucked off.

My task, was to go through the entire batch of those things, find the misspellings, correct them, and then send them off. So as a proud member of the ‘Weenie Owner’s Club’, you can guess why I was inclined to insure the good quality of my product. Because you know, “I’m not just a member, I may also end up being a client.” Like every other dude, I prefer to keep my weenie right where it’s always been. Thank-you-very-much.

It was my task also, because it was one way of my working off my room and board in what was once a Super Max prison. As to the possibility of my being a client of a malfunctioning Ofuda club? Well, I’m in the prison for a good reason. As you are undoubtedly aware, Monster Girls have been slowly but methodically taking over the world ever since they first popped up in Zipangu back in the mid-1940’s.

Remember that Live Action TV series that came out from Zipangu in the late 2010’s: ‘Living with Monster Girls’? It made the notion of marrying a Musume much more desirable to the general population. No drop of water feels responsible for the Flood, don’t you know.

Apparently, while I was gallivanting along the Pacific Crest Trail, the Great Meow or whatever the fuck her name is, finally achieved her long sought Victory. Not only did she succeed in capturing our world of the Musume, she also tipped the power scales to her favor in hers, the Mamono.
 
Apparently that tipping point that the Great Moo needed to gain the upper hand against the Chief God of the Mamono world, was Earth’s conversion into a Demon Realm. Human civilization didn’t so much as fall, as it ‘just lay back and tried to enjoy it’ as it was getting forcibly sucked off.

So, Monster Girls have Conquered the World, News at 11. Or there would’ve been, if our new ‘Masters’ had figured out how to operate the controls of the News Room. Instead, they chose to concentrate on turning all of our women into Succubi, or any one of a couple hundred different species of Monster. Once they got them converted, anti-Monster Girl programming disappeared from the airwaves. Golly.

As a result of the Great Mawow’s victory, male Mamono started being born sporadically, then into a trickle, and now, such births are quite common, according to the News reports.

Even though there are male Mamono being born left and right as we speak, there are still plenty of leftover Spinster Mamono from previous generations running around all desperate for a filled nest. That’s where my particular group comes in. We’re the un-desirables. The ones that are so awful, that not even the worst lust crazed Mamono female can be bothered to take notice.

Us Dudes? We didn’t stand a snowball’s chance in hell of resisting. Oh sure, some gay dudes committed suicide before letting themselves be claimed by a Mamono. Yeah you know the name of that tune. All the best-looking guys? Nice times out of ten: Gay.

For all the good that committing suicide did them. Do Zombies and Liches ring a bell?  At least being alive gave them a fighting chance to do something other than ‘popping a cold one’ for like, forever. Way to go dipshits.

Naturally there was a fire sale for the Better (non-gay) Dudes, Military dudes, Graduate Degree holders, fucktards like that. Like human women, the Monster Girls all wanted nothing but the best semen to coat their wombs with.

Then, over time, the not-so-quick on the uptake MG’s got the ‘not-quite-so-hot’ portion of maleness:  Divorcees, Substitute Chemistry Teachers, Public Broadcasting Executives, and the like. But even they were happy with what they got.
Then came, the not-so-desirable dudes, who ended getting snatched up in a somewhat longer order of time. The dudes like: Insurance Salesmen, Accountants, and Religious Missionaries.

 By the time I showed up in the Super Max prison that was located in the (Non-existent state of) Oklahoma Pan Handle, even the less than not-so-desirable dudes were getting scarce.

Now granted, the bum’s rush for guys had, for the most part, died down. But there were still stragglers out there like Saphirette Spherica. She finally managed to get her tentacles on some poor mook she chose from one of our joints. Though that’s not my idea of happily spending eternity, boinking the Uber-Librarian on top of a Magic Eight Ball. I would’ve wished them both the best, but as soon as she got him alone- BAM! He up and turns into an Alp. Caveat Emptor and all that bullshit.

Then there’s my group. We were unofficially known as: The Rock Bottom Remainders, we were the group of dudes that were considered to be almost totally useless in Monster Girl society.

I’ll give you an idea of who we were. Hairdressers, Telephone Sanitizers, Lobbyists, and Used Car Salesmen. All men, and they all got snatched up before me and my roomie, or any of the rest of the wing that we lived in, did. That shit does wonders for your self-esteem I can tell you. There were about ten guys left the last I checked.

My cell roomie’s name is: Larry. He’s a closet Pedophile. He’s never touched a child and probably will go to his grave before even allowing himself to get within a mile of one. He’s never told anyone, that’s why he’s still breathing. This is a prison after all.

So how do I know he’s a Pedo? Well that’s something else strange I’ve noticed about myself of late. I could always divine weird shit. A sort of ‘Sixth Sense. (No, I don’t have conversations with dead people, and no my wife doesn’t count asshole!) I just KNOW he’s a Pedo, the same way I just KNOW that Angelique the Were-Cat is skulking around my cell room behind me right now. She’s just waiting for an excuse to come and bother me again. I don’t know what she sees in me, I don’t want to know.

Ever since that night of the Aurora Borealis, my sixth sense has been getting more and more powerful in its ability and strength. Wait, what Aurora Borealis am I talking about? The one that occurred three and a half months ago! There weren’t nothing like that? Fine whatever.

Yeah that sixth sense, it was getting stronger. It’s been an ability that I had since my childhood. It always allowed me to do such mundane things like- ‘knowing’ when to arrive someplace at the best time to get the best possible parking spot. Or, showing up at the job with a bunch of ‘spur of the moment’ purchased pizza; and having it all turn out to be just the ticket at work.

Oh that? Because there was a last-minute deadline that cropped up and with my showing up with the grub, it gave everyone there the necessary fuel to pull together and make the deadline. It turned out to be the one thing that kept the company in the black, when I was working my way through college.

 So yeah, I knew he was a Pedo. But since he was so mature about it, I just treated him nice. That is to say I didn’t razz his ass like I did the ‘guards’, particularly that pest, Angelique. Larry’s desirability problem? He had worked as a condom Tester.

Then there’s me. So what made me so undesirable?  I committed the cardinal sin of the Monster Girl world. I did something so nasty, so evil, so disgusting, that even those Mamono in the know, wouldn’t piss on me if I was on fire.

I had a voluntary vasectomy. Yeah, remember my mentioning that? I got myself ‘fixed’. After a couple years, there’s no way to reverse it. Not that I would want to now. Yeah, yeah, yeah, Heresy. Whatever.

So, there are all of the Mamono out there running or slithering around, desperate for a male, ANY male in which they can breed with, right? They all want kittens, or cubs, or puppies, or whatever the hell baby lamia are called.

OK, not just ANY male. Then there are men like me. Yeah I shoot blanks. Taking me on would be like them knowingly marrying a condom. Which, by the way, is illegal nowadays. Condoms that is. Imagine that.

 Not only that, condoms are considered to be a ‘bad word’ nowadays. Third only to the second worst word: Bachelor. The first worst word: Vasectomy. You think that’s bad? Try adding in the verb: Voluntary. Not even a Bicorn stuffed with Corruption Fruit can be enticed to enter the same room that I’m in.

What’s the job of our Mamono guards? It is to keep an eye on us so that we don’t escape, until they can find someone really drunk or really Fucking desperate to take us on. It’s been three months since I arrived.

Now only a handful of us dudes are even in the mood for wedding bells. I sure as hell ain’t, and I make damned fucking sure that any Mamono desperate enough to want to take me on, gets a second thought, or a third. I even had a Charybdis representative give me the stink eye after I got done talking to her.

Which means that about the only females come through here now, are the kind that have a tendency of ‘accidentally’ going through husbands like I used to go through popcorn.  Females like Ushi-oni. Understand where I’m coming from concerning Ofuda now?

Fuck! I sure go off on tangents don’t I?

Suddenly I hear on the intercom something that rankles me from my eyeball relaxation time:

“All Viable Males are to report to the Chow Hall for Inspection- IMMEDIATELY!”

So what do I do? What I’ve always done: ignore it. I’m surprised that we even have enough males left to fill out a wing, let alone the chow hall. But apparently, somewhere out there; now in here, is one really desperate fem.

 Besides, like I said, I’ve got Ofuda to fix. I’ll be damned if I have some dude walking around funny, because of my laziness.

So, after a couple more minutes, I lean back to the task at hand. After a couple of seconds my Sixth Sense flared up. It was that Hairball again, Angelique the Were-cat. She was probably coming over to fall asleep on my bunk again, assuming that I was in the chow hall. She’d been doing that the entire time I’ve been here, no matter what I did to dissuade her.

What the hell does she think I’m gonna do? Wub her wittle tummy? Fuck that shit! She’d gotten sensitive to the sound of a can of shaving cream being activated whenever I was around. All that took for her to learn that Pavlovian response, was for me to place a generous amount of cream on one of her paws then tickle her nose during one of her naps.

You’d think that after that stunt I pulled involving that black market laser pointer, she’d have gotten something akin to a clue that I’m not interested in being nice to her, but NO!

“Uhmmm, Allen?” she chirruped, “You know you’re supposed to go to the Chow Hall, uhhh right Nyan?”

I just freeze at the sound of her voice, and do my best to ignore her. Does she take the hint? Of course not! Instead of trying to get my attention by speaking again, she tries something she’s not done in a month: She touches me on the shoulder!

So, I have to be the Royal Asshole again! I immediately lash out at her by jumping out of my chair that I’m in, and taking a swing at her paw. Luckily, I managed to totally miss it this time. Not that I ever intended to hurt her physically, but Chief God Damn! I just wanted her to leave me the FUCK alone! Better she cry now, instead of after when I got my free….ah never mind.

“Damnit Cat! What the fuck do you want now?!” I yell at her. By that time, she’s crouched down on all fours near the entrance of my cell, her ears laid back and all of her fur fluffed.

We make eye contact and she hisses at me, so what do I do? I get right in her face and hiss back! We stare at each other for a couple of seconds until she speaks in a quavering voice, “Why, are you always so mean to me?”

‘Because you deserve something better than this piece of shit you ninny, get the hint already!’ I think to myself.
Out loud, I say in the cruelest voice I can come up with, “There’s something about you that just brings out the worst in me.”

That did the trick. She jumps up and runs off, crying all the while. Me? I feel like an even worst piece of shit for making her cry. But that’s life for ya. The Fates decided to throw me a shit sandwich, and I don’t have much in the way of bread.

I’m all set to go back to work, and who do I see? A Green Oni looking at me with her characteristic frown. Yeah, it was that self-same oversize lime jelly bean that had me all tied up on that fucking train that ran all the way through Nevada and parts east.
Wouldn’t you know it, it was that one gods-damned time she was NOT in her room jilling off to a Hulk movie!

She demanded, “Why aren’t you in the Chow Hall, Mr. Allen Belushi?”

‘Ah fuck! If she’s calling me by my full name I’m in deep shit.’ I think to myself.  I could never remember what the fuck her name is, Heebie-Jeebie or Yum-Yum, or something like that.

I learned there was one nice thing about being in a Mamono/Man Prison? I got to learn a whole bunch of new swear words and cuss phrases.

I replied, “Because the announcement said: Viable. In case you forgot, I’m not viable because of the fucking voluntary vasectomy I got, you stupid gallorderlite!”

What’s that you ask? A Gallorderlite? It’s a particularly nasty insult I picked up in my ‘not’ prison, it roughly translates into: “Your Incubus prefers his hand, (over you).”

This time, when I come to, the side of my face is throbbing and I’m being held up right in a sitting position. I’m in the chow hall and some of my fellow dreggers are trying to wake my sorry ass up.  It seems that I got thrown into the hall after the Asparagus-Queen dragged me all the way down the staircases. Pedo-Larry is holding a bag of ice to my head. I find out why a bit later as all of the collected aches and pains catch up with me.

‘Wowzers! That nearly did the trick!’ I think to myself. ‘I’ll have to see if I can find a way to make it even more effective the next time I get the chance to use it.’

Well anyways, while I’m trying to remember how to miss the floor the next time I attempt to stand up, Pedo-Larry informs me of why we were all called into the Chow Hall: Apparently, they (Management) somehow managed to dredge up someone desperate enough to come take a gander at us.

I inquire as to who such an august personage is, and I’m informed that it is supposed to be a Dark Elf.

Oh Shit!

Oh, but not just ANY run of the mill Dark Elf looking for a starter husband for one of her daughters, Oh Noes! This time it’s Lady Ilse Grim-Koch. The very same Dark Elf who had been in the news lately because of the ‘unfortunate accident’ involving her newest dearly departed husband. The one who died of an ‘accidental suicide’ just like David Carradine did a few years back. You wanna know how Mr. Carradine bought his ticket? Google it! No, no, sorry, I meant to say Boggle it! (What the hell is a google anyways?)

‘Accidental’ being the official story, the scuttlebutt said different. She’d been banned from just about every other Mamono Matrimonial prison out there, the way she’d been going through her men. So now, she’d gotten so desperate for some fun and games, she had chosen to come darken our doorstep.

She’d been checking out the men in the chow hall while I was coming to, and for all I knew she had also been having us open our mouths to check our teeth. My turn came around for inspection, and I noticed then that she seemed utterly disgusted by all of the previous prospects. I smiled inwardly when she asked me a question or two about the possibility of my getting out of that place.

Unfortunately, I made the mistake of turning on my usual charm and debonair suave style. I think I managed to modify that ‘Gallorderlite’ insult into something even more obscene.

I knew that I’d made a mistake, when I saw her pierced nipples get hard enough to nearly penetrate her full-body latex suit. “You will be a challenge to break my sweet little project!” she breathed huskily, her eyes dilating wide enough for me to do a retinal scan from across the room.

‘Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuckity! Fucking! FUCK!’ was all that I could come up with, in a mental reply to my incipient matrimonial status.

Suddenly, I remembered my sixth sense that I’d been working on ever since I arrived. As near as I could tell, it appeared to be something akin to that Old Black Magic that so many of the Mamono seemed to have come naturally to them.

I’d been ‘experimenting’ on making myself hard to see and for the most part I’d been successful. A couple of times I even surprised Angelique when she hadn’t noticed that I was still in my cell. She’d been nosing around too much even then, so I thought I’d surprise her. I sure did I can tell you! She just about jumped out of her fur that first time.

Well, I decided right then and there I had to come up with something, ANYTHING! really, to improve my life span long enough to complete my self-imposed mission of taking my wife and daughter’s ashes to Yosemite (yeah, I still had them), and then do what I intended to afterwards.

For some reason, (Gut Instinct?), I settled on coming up with a Flatulence spell (?). Concentrating as hard as I could, I managed to get a slight rumbling started deep within my bowels. Unfortunately, even with my best efforts it was going to take a little while for any decent outcomes.

I tried to stall for time by playing hard to get, which is a rather hard thing to do when you’re trapped in a ‘non’-prison. I did manage to distract her with a witty comment. “HEY! Is that Elrond Half-Elven over there!” I said pointing. The way that she snapped around so fast, you’d have thought she would’ve twisted her own head off. No such luck.

 After she realized that she’d been had, she unfurled that long tailed whip she had on her person right then and there. For the life of me I don’t know where she had kept them, but somehow, she managed to (pardon the pun) ‘whip out’ a combination ball-gag/chain linked handcuff set from somewhere on her person. I had and still do not, have any desire to find out from where exactly.

It didn’t take a Teleporter Technician to figure out who those were intended for! I tried mouthing off, but wouldn’t you know it? My foul-mouthed Muse’s inspiration had run dry. I simply could NOT come up with anything in mind that would be suitably disgusting to her that would at least make her hesitate. I was in no mood to help in her quest to have me all wrapped up and neatly packaged to go home with her.

So, there I was, running and dodging around the Chow Hall with everybody and their sister laughing their asses off at me! Naturally, Stinker-Belle’s Great Aunt was having a whale of a time chasing me around the place. Oh, I knew that nimble little minx was toying with me! I just had her right where she wanted me!

BUT, I knew that the longer I could keep out of her clutches, the longer I could keep chanting under my breath, that spell that just came out of the blue, the better the fart that I’d manage to emit.

After about 15 minutes, I guess she got tired of the foreplay. The next thing I knew, she’d tripped me with that extendable riding crop she had pulled out of one of her thigh high boots. Next, one of those boots was pressing down on my skull keeping me in my place!

Mega-ICK!

“Oh, you naughty little boy!” She cooed at me, “You NEED to be punished for making me chase you all around this place!”

The next thing I know, she’s got me all trussed up with those chains of hers. Then, she starts whipping me with that whip! HOLY SHIT MAN! Oh, she didn’t start whipping me hard, like you would’ve seen in that Movie about Centaur BDSM: Fifty Grades of Hay. Nah, she started off slow and easy, then worked her way up in intensity.

What’s that? Nah! I’ve not seen that movie. How do I know so much about it you ask? I think I overheard someone else talking about it somewhere.

Back to the subject at hand: There I was, getting tromped and whipped on by Arwen’s kid sister. As it turned out my luck was working in my favor for once: rumble rumble, Rumble Rumble, RUMBLE RUMBLE, went my intestines!

 As Chance would have it she was standing on me with both of her boots on top of my tummy when it hit: I cut loose with the loudest, longest, and foulest smelling fart imaginable! It caught everyone in that place by surprise! I knew I was a free man when I saw the face of Lady Grim-Koch; just that look of utter surprise on her face was priceless! Naturally I had to say something, “I’m sorry Mistress! But I get like that every time I get disciplined. Will you please forgive me?”

The next thing I know, she’s disappeared faster than a Danuki facing a bill collector! And I, was left all trussed up on the floor of the joint, alone. Unfortunately, everyone else had also cleared out as well. Now when I say everyone, I mean EVERYONE. Even that Vulture-Harpy Guard was dry heaving when she vacated the joint.

 Luckily for me, I’d been getting lots of practice when it came to getting out of restraints the last few months, and it turned out that Lady Grim-Koch’s chain set was of the ‘safe’ variety, which meant that it had a secret catch that allowed me to wiggle free after a few minutes.
Of course, this also meant that maybe the scuttlebutt concerning her hubby’s ‘accidental death’ may have been all bullshit. Ah well, live and learn. Oh, what’s that? Ok Ok, I’ll admit it, I kinda liked getting whipped. Maybe. A little.

Moving on. BUT, as it turns out, my ‘Fart-Man’ spell worked a little too well. I nearly ended up turning myself inside out, because for the rest of the day I got to enjoy Temporal Diarrhea. I called it Temporal for a very good reason, I started shitting out stuff I hadn’t even eaten yet!  How could I tell? Corn. I’d not eaten any of it for weeks. Yet there it was.

Guess what was on the Chow Hall menu next, after they’d aired it out and repainted it after all of the paint had peeled off? You got it on one! Corn chowder!

After that fiasco, the ‘Warden’ of the place called me into her office. She was a Blue Oni and actually kind of a nice lady, if you discounted that booze breath of hers. Rumor had it that until I showed up, she only drank discreetly after lights out. I don’t think I could believe in that bit of doggerel, since there was a whole shitload of empty liquor bottles overflowing out of her waste bin when I waltzed in. (I had no idea there were that many varieties of rice wine!)

I mention that booze breath of hers, because after I showed up all she did was breathe steadily through her mouth in large pants. That and stare at me through her eyebrows from across her desk, That breath of hers was rather noticeable right then.

I started to get nervous watching her watching me after about 10 minutes of it. Finally, she caved first by leaning back in her chair and pinching the bridge of her nose. (Just a side note, but I’ve noticed a lot more people in my life doing just that- pinching the bridge of their noses whenever I was around: my coworkers, relatives, friends, probation officer. WTF!)

“What did I do in life to deserve this?” she asked out loud. I didn’t think she was directing that question to me for some reason. After she finished weeping about her career longevity chances, she did ask me a question I could answer: “What should I do with you?” I think she was asking me, even though her line of sight was directed at a picture on the wall next to me. Looking over I saw that what she’d been looking at was either her Graduate Degree Diploma of her Alma Mater: Texas State University, or it was the picture of the T.S.U.’s Body Farm. I wasn’t really sure which.

After a second or two of thought I came up with something that she might like, so I said, “I may have an Excellent Notion!” She just gave me an aggrieved look. But she didn’t reach for that knuckle duster paperweight sitting on her desk, so I started to feel cocky, “Creative Bookkeeping.”  “What, is that?” she said quietly with her eyes clamped shut and her hands holding her horns as if she was afraid they’d fallen off.

‘Jeez-Louise lady! Three in the afternoon and you already have a hangover?’ I thought to myself. But I pressed on anyways.

“What it was, Warden Sarashina,” I said quietly in an attempt to get that bloodlust look out of her eyes when they were open, “Was a method used by American Corporations in the last century. It allowed the Executives of same to continue to get their bonuses, despite the fact that the company they were running getting flown into the ground.”

I then sat down on a corner of her desk to drive home my point, but I got up off of it right quick, when I saw her pulling out a Tanto from her desk drawer.

“What it means in the here and now,” I said from out of her reach, “is that you may have a way of simply letting me walk out of here, and I could be out of your white hair once and for all.”  Her eyes lit up at the sound of that!

She had her some doubts, but she was all ears for what I had to say next, “What you need to do, is sign me a transfer order complete with a three-day rail pass. I know you’ve got some, after all, that’s how I showed up on your doorstep.”

“Don’t remind me!’ she moaned, “But how will that solve my problem concerning you?”

“Oh, that’s easy, just hand those orders, and rail pass over to me. I will guarantee that once I’m out of that door, you’ll never see me again, ever.”

“Are you crazy!? That’ll just get me in trouble at the end of the month!”, she cried, then winced at the high pitch of her own voice. End of the month being when they balanced the books.

“Look Warden,” I said gently, “You deal with paperwork day in and day out, right?” she nodded.

“So, tell me, even with all of that paperwork you’ve dotted the ‘I’s and crossed the T’s for. How often does some of what you’ve requisitioned, “accidentally” get lost in transit?”

“Far too oft…oh wait!” She stopped, with a Chochin-Obake turning on in her head.

“Ah, you understand. YOU don’t get in trouble for the stuff that gets lost in transit. Now, you could send me off with a Rail Pass to Royal Makai. But just as soon as I’m out the front gates I’ll be as good as vanished. As far as you and your career is concerned, I’ll be ‘lost in the cracks.”

Well she certainly liked the sound of that, I could tell you! Within five minutes, I’m walking out of her office door with the transfer order envelope packet and a week’s worth of Rail Passes! A couple minutes later I’m up in my cell packing my backpack and making sure that my wife’s and daughters ashes were still there. (They were.) No sign of hide nor hair of that annoying lump called Angelique either!

Who did I bump into on the way out past my cell door? None other than Pedo-Larry! Apparently, the Dark Elf had bumped into him on the way out of the Chow Hall and they both got bowled over. He took the opportunity to put on a little of his charm and I guess she liked what she saw! The next thing you know, he’s sporting her collar and he’s as happy as a pig in a pile of shit. Apparently, she was in fact looking for a starter husband for her latest daughter! I wished him and her(s) all the happiness they could garner. (Eeesh!)

Ten minutes after that, I’m walking my way to the nearest rail depot. I put to use that ‘stealth mode’ spell I worked up, and I don’t so much as turn a single head walking past a Were-sheep farm. Nice.

Twenty-four hours later, I’m at Grand Junction Colorado, and I’m waiting for the next train to Elko, Nevada. I’m cooling my heels because it’s fucking exhausting as all fuck, maintaining that stealth mode spell. I was starting to notice more than a couple of the Mamono were looking my ways a little too often. I’d been trying to come up with something that wasn’t so draining when I spot some poor mook being herded around by his Wyvern Waifu.

Then it dawned on me! I don’t know why I never figured it out before, the Monster Girls had some sort of “This Is Mine” marking mojo.  That stuff that they work on their males to keep them away from the competition. I noticed then that that aforementioned mook had toddled off to the Men’s room WITHOUT his ever-present minder! HMMMM!

I take a couple of seconds to wait and then I follow his ass in.  Sure enough, he’s shaking off and zipping up. I then ‘accidentally’ give him a ‘Vulcan Nerve Pinch’. Oh, what’s that? It’s something I had to come up with in the “not” Prison to avoid one, ok, several, ‘Prison Shower Romance’ scenes. I laid his ass gently down onto the floor and give him a quick ‘once-over’ with my “Magic Scanning Ability” a variation of that ‘Sense That Freaking Foolish Furball” spell that let me know when Angelique came a chuffing around.

I wasn’t sure, but I think I had it done right. His entire bod reeked of Handbag. So, I sort of ‘borrowed’ a good portion of it and lathered it onto me. Well there was nothing else for it, so I walked out of that joint to give it a whirl. Luck was with me that day as my stealth spell had just petered out in the rest room, and when I came out, the most attention I got was from the poor mook’s waifu wondering where he beloved was. She only gave me a bunched eyebrow glance before turning her attention back to her Mamono Mothers magazine.

For the next hour and a half, I’m in heaven. I’m able to grab a bite to eat after standing in line with a whole passeload of giggling succubi. Most of them behaved themselves with only a couple of them ‘accidentally’ grabbing me by the crotch. It wasn’t anything to get all worked up about, it being just a natural reaction on their part whenever a male is nearby.

I’m able to jump onto the next train to Elko, and when it was pulling out of the station I happen to look back, and who do I see on the platform? None other than Angelique! HOLY FUCKING SHIT! It was her alright! There was no mistaking that tortoiseshell pattern! She was sniffing the air around the platform as she was ambling about. The next thing I know she must have caught a whiff of my scent and she was chasing after my train. I sweated a couple of bullets for a while as she nearly managed to catch up! But thankfully, she must have been exhausted because after the second running leap she just tumbled into a pile there on the tracks.

Well so much for my peaceful slumber I’d been looking forward to! I spent the hours it took traveling all the way to Elko, with me trying to come with a plan to thwart her sniffer. I must’ve dozed off somewhere along the way. The next thing I knew we were pulling into Elko and I STILL hadn’t come up with anything! Checking the schedules, I noticed that there was an express train that was supposed to have departed from Grand Junction to Elko an hour after me! (FUCK!)

But the Gods below must have been smiling at me that day. I was still trying to come up with a plan when I noticed the baggage handlers cleaning up a busted open piece of luggage. The distinctive smell of a Raiju’s unmentionables permeated the air as her crotchless asbestos panties collection were strewn all over the platform. Then it hit me! MY SCENT, on my underpants! So, I ‘augmented’ my scent on them with my mojo. It’d hadn’t been laundry day in the not prison for several days when I’d left, so I had more than a couple of them to (pardon the pun) ‘secrete’ aboard several of the other outbound trains. I then left a couple more lying here and there in the men’s room, and a couple in the lockers. If all went well, and I got to complete my task of spreading my family’s ashes, I’d not be needing my tighty whiteys anyways!

Luckily, I managed to get to the next train out of Elko headed to Reno, just a few minutes before that express from Grand Junction! Sheesh that was cutting it close. Angelique would have a helluva time trying to figure out which train to catch! The Poor Persistent Pussy!

Despite the constant worry and my always looking over my shoulder, a couple of days later- I make it to Yosemite Valley with no sign of any moogies. At last! But I don’t waste any time taking in the sights or checking out some of the choice spots the wife and I had cavorted at. Nah. I just hoof it straight over to the spot she said she always loved: Mirror Lake. It was a nice day, all sunny and like.

I’m afraid I got a little teary once I got there. But it was a good run, her and I. I got to enjoy things with her that I’d never have thought possible for an asswipe like me. She deserved so much better than what she got. Well there I was at the spot where Tenaya Creek fed into Mirror Lake, and I’m all set to start dumping out the ashes of both of the most important parts of me.

Sure enough, I get interrupted by that bane of National Park enjoyment anywhere: A Park Ranger! Fucking asshole! “HEY!” She shouted, “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I turn and look, sure enough, there is some Gestapo-Dragon Broad. She’s got her Smokey the Bear hat stacked up over her horns and ears, and a fitted khaki uniform over her ample boobs. The Full Ranger Outfit, including more than her fair share of attitude.

“What the Fuck does it look like I’m doing Pufnstuf! I’m spreading out my family’s ashes just like they’d requested, asshole!” Well she didn’t take too kindly to that reply as her eyes blazed up and I swear she was all set to turn me into a pile of roast embers.

“You need a permit for that, and besides we don’t let just anyone spread their uncle’s ashes around anyways!” she half hissed.

“This ain’t my fucking uncle’s ashes, Handbag!” I replied, “Them’s my wife’s and daughter’s ashes, and I don’t give a flaming flying rat’s ass about any fucking permits! So, you either arrest my ass right now, or burn me so I can join them, because I’m not leaving this spot without them properly spread!”

She then got an odd look on her face. But, my reply seemed to satisfy Her Scaliness. After giving me an evil look for a few seconds, she mutters something about Tour-ons and scuttled off. I don’t know what the fuck she was going off about, but I take advantage of her distraction so I quickly, yet gently, spread the ashes there at the beach of the junction of the creek and lake.

I then rinse out both boxes to make sure I don’t leave anything behind inside them. Then, after a good 15 minutes of sobbing, I get up and go to Yosemite Village. I find the recycling joint and turn in the metal boxes so that someone else can use them for something useful.

After that, I set out to do what I intended to do after all this shit was done and over with. I wind my up the Yosemite Falls trail and meander over to the El Capitan peak, then I go on to the cliff’s edge. It was quite late in the day by then, but hey, it wasn’t like I was gonna need a room for the night, ya know?

There at the cliffs edge, I lay down the backpack, walk back about a hundred feet away from the cliff and then I turn around and stop. After a few seconds of self-motivation, I just cut and run towards the cliff. The next thing I know, I’m taking a nose dive and I’m sailing towards the floor of the valley.

For the first time in a very long time, I feel the closest thing to happiness. ‘Finally’, is all I can think as I make it over the edge.

Two god-damned-fucking-years of waking up in the middle of the night reaching out for my woman, and discovering that the only thing in my arms was a pillow. I couldn’t even remember what she smelled like anymore.

Two fucking goddamned years of crying meltdowns when I accidentally walk through the baby section at a store, or when I walk past a daycare. The fucking shrinks will tell you that it gets easier as time goes on. That’s complete and utter bullshit! It don’t man.

It JUST FUCKING DON’T!

I’m just fucking tired man. I wanna sleep and never fucking wake up anymore. But I had to keep my promises first, you know? I learned the hard way that you don’t just talk about suicide, because all that does is invite a fucking ‘intervention’.

Nah. You don’t talk shit about suicide, you talk shit TO people. You know? Drive them off. You make sure they’re so disgusted with you, that they just look away. So, I became obnoxious to everyone. Friends, Family, Co-workers. It didn’t take long for them to scoot. Most of them that is. A Couple of them I really had to work at to drive away.
What? You thought I was born an asshole? Nah pal, I had to WORK at it! 

Angelique? She’ll get over it. That kitty-cat deserved a lot better than the shit I gave her. But, I wasn’t gonna use her emotions against her in an effort to get out of that place. No fucking way man. I still had my standards.

First, I sold my business to my honest competitor. Gave her a leg up, as opposed to that sleazebag outfit. Next, was the house the wife and I had built together; Habitat for Humanity. Enough said. Most of the savings went to charity, then I’m off onto the trail. I could’ve ended up here in Yosemite a whole lot sooner. But hey, that’s fucking life for ya!

Oh, you mean I meant Mansions for Maou-anity? Of course, I did.

Well anyways, I had milliseconds left, and I could see the floor of the Valley rushing up to me! I was literally about to hit Rock Bottom, and you know the only thing I could think of on my way down? Pink Floyd’s: Learning to Fly video! Ain’t that the Shit?

I was flying man! That shit’s so cool! I could see the tops of trees around me right then and you know what? I could’ve died happy right then and there!

But that goddamned fucking Dragon Ranger had to go and fuck it all up! 

Bitch.

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