OKAY, OKAY! I have finally been shamed into contributing to this goddamned forum, and have thought up a delightful story of a date with an EXTREMELY happy ending. For the purposes of this story I have used both GrippedChimp’s and Cheshire cat’s character’s and avatars. I therefore dedicate this story to them.
NB: this is the first in a 2-part series (or poss. 3 part). I do not know exactly when I will be posting the next installment, but it will DEFINITELY be after the start of December, so do not bother me with requests until then (that is, if you like the story). However I would like your appraisal of my storytelling technique. Thanx
I picked up the phone one warm, toasty night in December. I love Australia. With a flick of my wrist I spun the dial that would connect me to the Chesh and the next phase of a plan I’d thought out during my months of convalescence from school (I love vacation). No more school forever, I thought to myself dreamily, scarcely able to believe it. All I looked forward to was a great few years at Uni, furthering my education. Of course, that didn’t exclude a plethora of babe watching, pot smoking and Anime Convention attending, I thought with a smile. The thing I most love about a multicultural society is the Asian Chicks. Oh yes…. That reminds me… Chesh had picked up.
(Prepare for VERY bad parody of Budweiser commercial)
- So wazzup, C?
- Tickling a babe, smokin’ some bud… (the squeals of feminine laughter pervaded the room, caused by the fine oriental hashish, and the Cat’s roving fingers)
- True…. True…. (ahem) WAZZZZZZZUUUUUUUUUUPPPPPPPP!?!?!?!?!
- WAAAAAZUUUUUUUUUUUPPPPPPP!?!?!
- (me with tongue out) AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
- AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!
- Heh. Yo, get the Chimp on da phone! (did I neglect to mention our British pinoy friend was staying at Chesh’s house? But I digress)
- (pause, fumbles, Chimps voice) ‘ello?
- WA-SUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUPPPP!?!
- WAZUUUUUUUUUUUUPPPPPPPPP!!??!
- (me) AH-HAHHH!!! Heh.
- (chesh) WUZZZZZUP?!?! heh
- (Chimp) heh. Roight, lets get iggy…. YO, IGG-AY!
- (Iggy’s voice) yo?
- (Me)WAAAAAAAAA-SAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAPPP!?!?
- (Iggy) wuzuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuppppp….
- (chesh, with tongue out) AH-HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!
- (iggy)WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!
- (everyone) WAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!!!
- (Me) hehheh…. Hang on, I got another call…hello?
- (scamwich + Sinful pryde) WA-SUAAAAAAAAAAPPPPPP????!?!?!?
- (me)WAHAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!
- (EVERYONE, with tongues out, looking stupid - hey, we’re men, right?) AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!! (sound of everyone except Chesh and me hanging up)
- So wassup, C?
- Ticklin’ this babe, smokin some bud…
- True…true…
BACK TO THE GODDAMN STORYLINE!
So, uh… Chesh… (Formerly C, but that was only for Budweiser conformity) I stammered nervously…. Um, ugh…. Howzit going? (I’m really not usually this inarticulate, but phones hold an eerie and cosmic power over my speech…. woooooooooooo… ; )
You know… stuff… the cat was none too articulate himself, having previously consumed 2 ounces of supaskunk and preoccupied as he was by the fit (cat) girl on his lap.
Um, well, as Christmas is coming up… and seeing as you owe me that favour… (The favour in question was me taking care of his stoned ass after a party. he had underestimated the quality and instead of Moroccan got backyard kazakstanian. He complained of being able to walk through people, and “see” purity.)
Yess… (Awkward pause)
I spoke in a fevered rush: iwaswonderingifmaybeyouwouldliketoofferoneofyourfineladiesovertowineanddinewithmeasagestureofchristmasgoodwill?”
There was another awkward pause. Then:
The connection is very bad, I can’t follow you! You not be speakin engrish, mofo! (Yes, I KNOW Chesh doesn't really speak like this, but poetic license, Kay?)
I repeated my previous sentence, even faster, my nerves stretched to breaking point. This is Cheshire cat, my brain repeatedly informed me. The Cheshire Cat, worthy of the capitals, the famous furry/manga artiste, with an extra “e”. And you are asking him to give up one of his lascivious women for personal pleasure! Gads fish man! It’s only for a night, I reassured myself.
He repeated his request for me to “slooooooooooooooooooooow dooooooown…..”
I took a calming breath, accidentally inhaling Windex as I did so (woooooo… bad Windex trip)
- Chesh, how long have we known each other?
- Uh…. ‘bout 2 years…
- Yeah. And how good a friend do you consider me?
- If this is about your “spa fun” proposal, I already told you I don’t swing that way! (cut to Jerry saying “not that there’s anything WRONG with that)
- No, this is not about the… incident. I was wondering whether I could borrow something for the weekend?
- Well, sure! What did you have in mind? My bong? My pipe? My collection of authentic porcelain shrunken cartoon character heads? (now with Betty boop AND krusty the clown!)
- Uh…. Miko-Chan.
- …My authentic Swedish penis enla…. What?
- Uh… I want to borrow Miko…
- Let’s get this straight… you want to borrow Miko for the weekend? As in a date?
- You know of my…proclivities…
- Ah, yes, the Asian chick fetish… yes, you have bemoaned the lack of oriental punani many a time.
- Yeh. So…. Can I borrow her?
- Weeeeeellllllllll… since it’s Christmas an’ all… okay!
I jumped for joy, accidentally knocking over the wardrobe. Climbing out of the rubble, I farewelled Chesh, arranged a pickup date with Miko, and then got out an organizational chart and Japanese phrasebook. This date was going to be the best damn date ever… phase 1 of my plan was over. Phase two had BEGUN!!! (MWAHAHAHAAAAAAA!!!! AAAAAHAHAHHHAAAAAAAA – cough, hack, hack choke, stifle, snnnuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck! - AHHAHAAAAA!!!! – cue lightning)
Phase 2 of my plan involved cleaning myself up. Over the years of toil at school I had ceased to care about my appearance, especially due to the lack of girls (St. Carl's all boy’s school, I stab at thee!) as a result I was an Otaku wreck, who smelt, if you will bear witness to the testimony of others, absolutely terrible. (If you are looking for witty Oscar wildeian jibes combined with rampant toilet humour, read Oscar Wilde on the toilet). My room had been described well by Lister (If u do not know who he is, you should be shot) when he said, “this place smells like the inside of a packet of dry roasted peanuts!” Clothes were strewn in vast heaps, the residual filth bearing an uncanny resemblance to an El Nino attack. Firstly, clean myself up, then buy shiny things for Miko-Chan to ogle at while I ply her with sake. Into the shower I go. As can be expected, someone was washing the dishes at the same moment. I shall recreate my experiences through stereophonic sound.
(Ahem) “Laalaaaalaaaaaa….. I dream of genie with the… what is that ominous rumbling sound? Ah well, with the light broooown haiiii… uh? Ummm… oh…. OooooooohhhhhhhsssshhhhhhhiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiIIII …AAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGHHHHHH!!! OWIE, OWIE, OWIE, WITH THE GAHAY HAAA HOOOOO-HAY!!!!! AAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!! MY FLESH!!!!!! IT BURNS!!”
And so on, and so forth.
Squeaky clean and smelling slightly of bacon, I set about the next phase… operation cool clothes! Unfortunately my cool clothes were somewhere within the mountainous pile of discarded garments, which I called bob as an affectionate name. Bob and I went way back. Germs that were present in 1990 were either fossilized in fascinating ossified shelves of old jeans, or had built up advanced civilisations and were doing battle against their hated enemies, the mould people. Girding my loins (I love doing that, it tingles) I pulled out my trusty iron ruler +12 and went on a quest…. A quest for the holy ecko jacket!!!!!
To cut a very long story short, on the night specified I turned up outside the building, dressed to the nines and suave, with a box of chocolates and a bunch of roses. I had also brought an original Ranma ½ Nabiki plushie, a GM penguin, and a minidisc with the latest techno music. I had come prepared. The doorbell went “Nyu!” aaaawwwwww, how cute, I thought. Then the door was flung open ostentatiously, displaying a beauty with light brown hair and blue eyes clad only in glad-wrap. I lost a pint of blood through my nose instantaneously. “HELOOOOOO, LOVER!!!” the wrapped one declared, eyes shut anime style for extra cuteness. Then she noticed that I was not the purported beau she had expected. Her eyes contracted, her mouth took on the aspect of a fish out of water, as she stood frozen. I was much the same, however in my case loss of blood combined with the fact that my central nervous system had locked up was the cause. I was also drooling. After a few strained seconds she recovered her composure and tried to salvage the situation. Unfortunately, she did this by saying “EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!” and slamming the door. Now, men. If you have seen a naked, attractive woman, with shiny skin and a big grin in front of your face, something happens to you. Something inherently biological. What I am trying to get at is that Mr. floppy is now standing to attention. And since I was adopting at that point the I’m-to-cool-to-live teenager posture (read- stupid-looking slouch), certain areas of my anatomy were protruding, happily greeting the door as it swung shut at an appreciable fraction of the speed of light. I don’t believe I have to inform you what happened next. Anywho, when I returned, having sought out a doctor, I was slightly more cautious (read insanely paranoid). I rang the doorbell, and then retreated out of swatting distance. This time round two figures were outlined in the doorway: that of Mr. Chimp and Mr. Cat (phew!)
- hey A.M., glad to see you! (cat)
- is that insane nekkid chick gone yet? (me)
- oh… you must mean Kaysie. She was expecting me at the door. (chimp)
- oh, I see. Any reason why she’s dressed like that? (me)
- whisperwhisperwhisper. (chimp, in my ear)
- oh!, of course! Baka. ahahahaaaha! (Me, with sweat bubble)
- so, anyway, come in! welcome to casa de chesha! Cha-cha-cha! (who else?)
- yeah… thanks. So, where is Kaysie now? (Me)
- uh…. She’s a little “tied up” right now…MWAHAHAHAAAAAA!!!! (GC)
I walked through the doorway, escorted by the two be-masked comic masters. I was met with the sight of elegant and debauched decadence. Whoever had designed this was a master of ostentatiousness. The murals were reminiscent of 60’s album covers of psychedelic bands, and made me have a serious headache. Through the glass-panneled doors I glimpsed the indoor pool, with a sauna to one side and a spa to the other. This spa was noticeable in that it had plush seating arrangements… with special restraints for “safety purposes” (heh, heh, heh…). I was led around a corner into another decorated corridor. All of the doors on either side had odd titles: the dungeon, the anteroom, the torture chamber, the loveboat (wtf????) and others. Muffled giggles and other sounds were emanating from their interiors. Before I could investigate, however, I was led into the living room. This was truly mind boggling im its camp gaudiness. Plush lounges, bean bags with gold inlay, padded walls with replicas of famous art, 70’s style love settee’s, shag pile carpet you could lose a pygmy in, this room had it all. It also had a 100 inch flatron wall mounted TV screen, with cable, a fully functional entertainment system, surround sound, and all manner of consoles. I was in heaven. As a centrepiece to this, there was a crowd of lovely and beautiful females clustered around a multi-purpose hookah, sporting tails and ears. Yes, yes, you guessed, it was Cali and the gang!!! Among those present and NOT furred were several of the chimp’s girls, who had flown over with him to keep him company. Thy included: Selis, the beauty from the east, B, and several others (I can never remember all their names). A delightful scent of rosewood and bong water pervaded the room. I was introduced to the females:
- Hey, guys, this is AussieMunkey. (chesh)
- Uh… hi… (me)
- (Blond haired catgirl) oi… are youse an Aussie?
- Heh… I see you recognise my accent…
- Of course oi bladdy well do! I’m a farkin Aussie!
- Heh, I kind of guessed… so… what’s a bonzer Sheila loike you doin in a place loik this?
- Ah, giddoutofit, ya smooth talkin bastard….
- Oi sappose a root is outa tha question?
We talked like only Aussies surrounded by foreigners talk… accentuating our accents to a broad twang. After a few minutes of banter, we snapped out of it. Just as well, the other’s were looking at us like we were speaking in Yiddish.
- Uh… so, anyway…. Where’s Miko-chan?
The others looked at me with a grin. “Can’t wait to get out on that date, huh?” they all seemed to be thinking. They informed me that Miko chan was in the process of getting ready, and was currently in the spa. I gallantly volunteered to go in and inform her of my presence, but the others did not seem to think this a good idea. Anyway. To pass the time I chatted to the girls, both furry and not. There was the standard banter: Freud’s theory of phallic symbols, Jung’s subconscious, Marxist rhetoric, discussion of Dylan and salman Rushdie, the usual. After a while the girl’s tired of me and constantly talking about how young I was (18 – at least for the purposes of this story). Eventually the only girl I was still chatting with was Selis, who was interested in my theory of postmodernist deconstructuralism. After a few minutes, she began to get a pained look upon her face. I inquired as to the reason. She replied that she had been out clubbing the previous night, and had danced all evening in painful shoes. I replied (gentleman that I am) that I would gladly give her a footrub if she would like. Her eyes lit up, and she said, “oh would you? That would be great!,” placing her sender feet into my lap. He-llo! Like I said, I dig the Asian chicks…
TO BE CONTINUED!!!! (IN A LOOOOONG WHILE)
NB: this is the first in a 2-part series (or poss. 3 part). I do not know exactly when I will be posting the next installment, but it will DEFINITELY be after the start of December, so do not bother me with requests until then (that is, if you like the story). However I would like your appraisal of my storytelling technique. Thanx
I picked up the phone one warm, toasty night in December. I love Australia. With a flick of my wrist I spun the dial that would connect me to the Chesh and the next phase of a plan I’d thought out during my months of convalescence from school (I love vacation). No more school forever, I thought to myself dreamily, scarcely able to believe it. All I looked forward to was a great few years at Uni, furthering my education. Of course, that didn’t exclude a plethora of babe watching, pot smoking and Anime Convention attending, I thought with a smile. The thing I most love about a multicultural society is the Asian Chicks. Oh yes…. That reminds me… Chesh had picked up.
(Prepare for VERY bad parody of Budweiser commercial)
- So wazzup, C?
- Tickling a babe, smokin’ some bud… (the squeals of feminine laughter pervaded the room, caused by the fine oriental hashish, and the Cat’s roving fingers)
- True…. True…. (ahem) WAZZZZZZZUUUUUUUUUUPPPPPPPP!?!?!?!?!
- WAAAAAZUUUUUUUUUUUPPPPPPP!?!?!
- (me with tongue out) AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
- AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!
- Heh. Yo, get the Chimp on da phone! (did I neglect to mention our British pinoy friend was staying at Chesh’s house? But I digress)
- (pause, fumbles, Chimps voice) ‘ello?
- WA-SUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUPPPP!?!
- WAZUUUUUUUUUUUUPPPPPPPPP!!??!
- (me) AH-HAHHH!!! Heh.
- (chesh) WUZZZZZUP?!?! heh
- (Chimp) heh. Roight, lets get iggy…. YO, IGG-AY!
- (Iggy’s voice) yo?
- (Me)WAAAAAAAAA-SAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAPPP!?!?
- (Iggy) wuzuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuppppp….
- (chesh, with tongue out) AH-HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!
- (iggy)WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!
- (everyone) WAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!!!
- (Me) hehheh…. Hang on, I got another call…hello?
- (scamwich + Sinful pryde) WA-SUAAAAAAAAAAPPPPPP????!?!?!?
- (me)WAHAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!
- (EVERYONE, with tongues out, looking stupid - hey, we’re men, right?) AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!! (sound of everyone except Chesh and me hanging up)
- So wassup, C?
- Ticklin’ this babe, smokin some bud…
- True…true…
BACK TO THE GODDAMN STORYLINE!
So, uh… Chesh… (Formerly C, but that was only for Budweiser conformity) I stammered nervously…. Um, ugh…. Howzit going? (I’m really not usually this inarticulate, but phones hold an eerie and cosmic power over my speech…. woooooooooooo… ; )
You know… stuff… the cat was none too articulate himself, having previously consumed 2 ounces of supaskunk and preoccupied as he was by the fit (cat) girl on his lap.
Um, well, as Christmas is coming up… and seeing as you owe me that favour… (The favour in question was me taking care of his stoned ass after a party. he had underestimated the quality and instead of Moroccan got backyard kazakstanian. He complained of being able to walk through people, and “see” purity.)
Yess… (Awkward pause)
I spoke in a fevered rush: iwaswonderingifmaybeyouwouldliketoofferoneofyourfineladiesovertowineanddinewithmeasagestureofchristmasgoodwill?”
There was another awkward pause. Then:
The connection is very bad, I can’t follow you! You not be speakin engrish, mofo! (Yes, I KNOW Chesh doesn't really speak like this, but poetic license, Kay?)
I repeated my previous sentence, even faster, my nerves stretched to breaking point. This is Cheshire cat, my brain repeatedly informed me. The Cheshire Cat, worthy of the capitals, the famous furry/manga artiste, with an extra “e”. And you are asking him to give up one of his lascivious women for personal pleasure! Gads fish man! It’s only for a night, I reassured myself.
He repeated his request for me to “slooooooooooooooooooooow dooooooown…..”
I took a calming breath, accidentally inhaling Windex as I did so (woooooo… bad Windex trip)
- Chesh, how long have we known each other?
- Uh…. ‘bout 2 years…
- Yeah. And how good a friend do you consider me?
- If this is about your “spa fun” proposal, I already told you I don’t swing that way! (cut to Jerry saying “not that there’s anything WRONG with that)
- No, this is not about the… incident. I was wondering whether I could borrow something for the weekend?
- Well, sure! What did you have in mind? My bong? My pipe? My collection of authentic porcelain shrunken cartoon character heads? (now with Betty boop AND krusty the clown!)
- Uh…. Miko-Chan.
- …My authentic Swedish penis enla…. What?
- Uh… I want to borrow Miko…
- Let’s get this straight… you want to borrow Miko for the weekend? As in a date?
- You know of my…proclivities…
- Ah, yes, the Asian chick fetish… yes, you have bemoaned the lack of oriental punani many a time.
- Yeh. So…. Can I borrow her?
- Weeeeeellllllllll… since it’s Christmas an’ all… okay!
I jumped for joy, accidentally knocking over the wardrobe. Climbing out of the rubble, I farewelled Chesh, arranged a pickup date with Miko, and then got out an organizational chart and Japanese phrasebook. This date was going to be the best damn date ever… phase 1 of my plan was over. Phase two had BEGUN!!! (MWAHAHAHAAAAAAA!!!! AAAAAHAHAHHHAAAAAAAA – cough, hack, hack choke, stifle, snnnuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck! - AHHAHAAAAA!!!! – cue lightning)
Phase 2 of my plan involved cleaning myself up. Over the years of toil at school I had ceased to care about my appearance, especially due to the lack of girls (St. Carl's all boy’s school, I stab at thee!) as a result I was an Otaku wreck, who smelt, if you will bear witness to the testimony of others, absolutely terrible. (If you are looking for witty Oscar wildeian jibes combined with rampant toilet humour, read Oscar Wilde on the toilet). My room had been described well by Lister (If u do not know who he is, you should be shot) when he said, “this place smells like the inside of a packet of dry roasted peanuts!” Clothes were strewn in vast heaps, the residual filth bearing an uncanny resemblance to an El Nino attack. Firstly, clean myself up, then buy shiny things for Miko-Chan to ogle at while I ply her with sake. Into the shower I go. As can be expected, someone was washing the dishes at the same moment. I shall recreate my experiences through stereophonic sound.
(Ahem) “Laalaaaalaaaaaa….. I dream of genie with the… what is that ominous rumbling sound? Ah well, with the light broooown haiiii… uh? Ummm… oh…. OooooooohhhhhhhsssshhhhhhhiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiIIII …AAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGHHHHHH!!! OWIE, OWIE, OWIE, WITH THE GAHAY HAAA HOOOOO-HAY!!!!! AAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!! MY FLESH!!!!!! IT BURNS!!”
And so on, and so forth.
Squeaky clean and smelling slightly of bacon, I set about the next phase… operation cool clothes! Unfortunately my cool clothes were somewhere within the mountainous pile of discarded garments, which I called bob as an affectionate name. Bob and I went way back. Germs that were present in 1990 were either fossilized in fascinating ossified shelves of old jeans, or had built up advanced civilisations and were doing battle against their hated enemies, the mould people. Girding my loins (I love doing that, it tingles) I pulled out my trusty iron ruler +12 and went on a quest…. A quest for the holy ecko jacket!!!!!
To cut a very long story short, on the night specified I turned up outside the building, dressed to the nines and suave, with a box of chocolates and a bunch of roses. I had also brought an original Ranma ½ Nabiki plushie, a GM penguin, and a minidisc with the latest techno music. I had come prepared. The doorbell went “Nyu!” aaaawwwwww, how cute, I thought. Then the door was flung open ostentatiously, displaying a beauty with light brown hair and blue eyes clad only in glad-wrap. I lost a pint of blood through my nose instantaneously. “HELOOOOOO, LOVER!!!” the wrapped one declared, eyes shut anime style for extra cuteness. Then she noticed that I was not the purported beau she had expected. Her eyes contracted, her mouth took on the aspect of a fish out of water, as she stood frozen. I was much the same, however in my case loss of blood combined with the fact that my central nervous system had locked up was the cause. I was also drooling. After a few strained seconds she recovered her composure and tried to salvage the situation. Unfortunately, she did this by saying “EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!” and slamming the door. Now, men. If you have seen a naked, attractive woman, with shiny skin and a big grin in front of your face, something happens to you. Something inherently biological. What I am trying to get at is that Mr. floppy is now standing to attention. And since I was adopting at that point the I’m-to-cool-to-live teenager posture (read- stupid-looking slouch), certain areas of my anatomy were protruding, happily greeting the door as it swung shut at an appreciable fraction of the speed of light. I don’t believe I have to inform you what happened next. Anywho, when I returned, having sought out a doctor, I was slightly more cautious (read insanely paranoid). I rang the doorbell, and then retreated out of swatting distance. This time round two figures were outlined in the doorway: that of Mr. Chimp and Mr. Cat (phew!)
- hey A.M., glad to see you! (cat)
- is that insane nekkid chick gone yet? (me)
- oh… you must mean Kaysie. She was expecting me at the door. (chimp)
- oh, I see. Any reason why she’s dressed like that? (me)
- whisperwhisperwhisper. (chimp, in my ear)
- oh!, of course! Baka. ahahahaaaha! (Me, with sweat bubble)
- so, anyway, come in! welcome to casa de chesha! Cha-cha-cha! (who else?)
- yeah… thanks. So, where is Kaysie now? (Me)
- uh…. She’s a little “tied up” right now…MWAHAHAHAAAAAA!!!! (GC)
I walked through the doorway, escorted by the two be-masked comic masters. I was met with the sight of elegant and debauched decadence. Whoever had designed this was a master of ostentatiousness. The murals were reminiscent of 60’s album covers of psychedelic bands, and made me have a serious headache. Through the glass-panneled doors I glimpsed the indoor pool, with a sauna to one side and a spa to the other. This spa was noticeable in that it had plush seating arrangements… with special restraints for “safety purposes” (heh, heh, heh…). I was led around a corner into another decorated corridor. All of the doors on either side had odd titles: the dungeon, the anteroom, the torture chamber, the loveboat (wtf????) and others. Muffled giggles and other sounds were emanating from their interiors. Before I could investigate, however, I was led into the living room. This was truly mind boggling im its camp gaudiness. Plush lounges, bean bags with gold inlay, padded walls with replicas of famous art, 70’s style love settee’s, shag pile carpet you could lose a pygmy in, this room had it all. It also had a 100 inch flatron wall mounted TV screen, with cable, a fully functional entertainment system, surround sound, and all manner of consoles. I was in heaven. As a centrepiece to this, there was a crowd of lovely and beautiful females clustered around a multi-purpose hookah, sporting tails and ears. Yes, yes, you guessed, it was Cali and the gang!!! Among those present and NOT furred were several of the chimp’s girls, who had flown over with him to keep him company. Thy included: Selis, the beauty from the east, B, and several others (I can never remember all their names). A delightful scent of rosewood and bong water pervaded the room. I was introduced to the females:
- Hey, guys, this is AussieMunkey. (chesh)
- Uh… hi… (me)
- (Blond haired catgirl) oi… are youse an Aussie?
- Heh… I see you recognise my accent…
- Of course oi bladdy well do! I’m a farkin Aussie!
- Heh, I kind of guessed… so… what’s a bonzer Sheila loike you doin in a place loik this?
- Ah, giddoutofit, ya smooth talkin bastard….
- Oi sappose a root is outa tha question?
We talked like only Aussies surrounded by foreigners talk… accentuating our accents to a broad twang. After a few minutes of banter, we snapped out of it. Just as well, the other’s were looking at us like we were speaking in Yiddish.
- Uh… so, anyway…. Where’s Miko-chan?
The others looked at me with a grin. “Can’t wait to get out on that date, huh?” they all seemed to be thinking. They informed me that Miko chan was in the process of getting ready, and was currently in the spa. I gallantly volunteered to go in and inform her of my presence, but the others did not seem to think this a good idea. Anyway. To pass the time I chatted to the girls, both furry and not. There was the standard banter: Freud’s theory of phallic symbols, Jung’s subconscious, Marxist rhetoric, discussion of Dylan and salman Rushdie, the usual. After a while the girl’s tired of me and constantly talking about how young I was (18 – at least for the purposes of this story). Eventually the only girl I was still chatting with was Selis, who was interested in my theory of postmodernist deconstructuralism. After a few minutes, she began to get a pained look upon her face. I inquired as to the reason. She replied that she had been out clubbing the previous night, and had danced all evening in painful shoes. I replied (gentleman that I am) that I would gladly give her a footrub if she would like. Her eyes lit up, and she said, “oh would you? That would be great!,” placing her sender feet into my lap. He-llo! Like I said, I dig the Asian chicks…
TO BE CONTINUED!!!! (IN A LOOOOONG WHILE)
No posts? not even a single 1? WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!
