Iwon'tgrowup
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ALIEN V - TORMENT (The Tickling of Ellen Ripley--Part 1)
What the fuck are you doing? Ellen Ripley demanded, twisting, trying to wrench her arms free of General Perez and Corporal Hicks. It's just a cast reunion party! C'mon, Dan, Michael, leave me the hell alone! What the hell's WRONG with you?!
"We don't know who you're talking about," Perez said, calmly, "but we do know that wherever you go, scaly, acid-spewing monsters are right on your heels."
"And speaking of heels," Hicks added, "we can't kill you because our whole world would go, too. Eternal hypersleep takes up too much space; plus, it's boring. Now this," he said, as they rounded a corner and hustled Ripley into a torchlit room, "this took imagination. This took BRAINS. This oughta wipe that damned pout off your face. For good."
Perez and Hicks pushed Ripley into a vinyl examining chair, securing her arms with flexible titanium mesh bands. They watched her for a moment, threatening, sweating, swearing. Six feet of auburn hair, fiery eyes, thrashing legs, potty mouth. God. Ellen Ripley strapped down. "Get the ankles," Perez instructed.
Ripley almost caught Hicks in the teeth with a flailing boot. He dodged just in time, grinning. It's coming, Ellen he almost crooned. Not no goddamn alien, either . . . although we owe one a big thank you for this. He secured Ripley's feet. Her back arched, hips convulsed. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! she fumed.
"It's no use," General Perez sighed, perching on an examining stool beside her. "Listen to me, Ellen." Water dripped somewhere. Shadows danced in the torchlight. Ripley continued to scream curses. "Ellen. Tell us who you are."
Ripley stopped struggling. "For the last time, Dan," she said (through teeth), "I am Sigourney Weaver. We are -- WERE -- at an Alien reunion party. What a laugh, to want to be reunited with you creeps! You are Dan Hedaya. And YOU, fucker, are Michael Biehn. You're fucking B-Reel actors from a damn monster movie and you are NOT going to court. You're not passing go. You are NOT collecting two hundred fucking dollars. I'm gonna put you right in the goddamn MORGUE when I get out of . . ."
"Hicks, take her boots off now," Perez said quietly. "It's just like The Company said. Fifty-seven years in cryogen have made her more than just schizophren . . ."
"KNOCK OFF THE FUCKING JOKE NOW!" Ripley screamed. "Fine! You got me! I'm really scared! But not as scared as you're gonna be when . . . "
"Ellen, Ellen. Shhh. Shhh while you still can. This isn't a movie. The curtain never came down. No credits, no overture. No audience. Just deep, silent space. No one can hear you scream.
"And no one can hear you laugh . . .
"Except you. Me. And Hicks. We understand now that we all exist because of you. We're all out here because of you and your monsters. You imagined us right into reality. Tortured us with your beasts in the ventilation shafts. We want it to end. But if we end you, it's no more General Perez, no more Corporal Hicks, no more playing soldier. No more anything. We can't kill you. But we can punish you, Ellen. We can surely punish you for sticking us out here with them, dear heart."
And we're GONNA Hicks breathed. OH yeah.
"Get it out," Perez instructed.
"I swear to GOD you two are FUCKING DEAD, FUCKING DEAD . . ."
"Shut. Up." Perez whispered. "Your filthy mouth, your nasty disposition, who's the real alien out here, Ellen dearest? I don't think it's them. Because, you see, they've given us something good after all."
"The acid," Hicks whispered in Ripley's ear. "The acid can be . . . FIXED."
"Refined," Perez corrected. "Refined, purified, perfected. Show her."
Hicks sat on a stool opposite Ripley's bare feet. "Your feet are big, Ripley," he said. "Kinda pretty, though. Maybe there's something else about your feet we should all find out." He reached out with both hands and tickled her soles. "Are ya . . . ticklish?"
"Good God, boys," Ripley rolled her eyes. "Is that why you're pulling this whole stupid PRANK? You wanna tickle my FEET? What a stupidass waste of everyone's time, including yours. And I'm not even ticklish!"
"Corporal," Perez said. "Put some on."
Ripley's pout relaxed, disappeared as Hicks opened a jar containing some thick, green liquid. "This is acid from the aliens," Perez told her, "refined acid. Not the same stuff that killed most of Hicks's company and my crew. Not anymore. Hicks and I and what's left of our research team did our homework. This is something new, Ellen. You're about to spend the rest of your life finding out what it is. The rest of your life."
Hicks poured a thin layer of the alien liquid over Ripley's right foot. Immediately, the neatly-trimmed toes began twitching. Hmm mmm mmm Ripley chuckled. Hee hee hee HA HA HA GOOD GOD HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA FUCK! FUCK! HAA (labored breath) HAA (pause, breath) HA HA HAA HAA . . .
The men watched Ellen Ripley laugh in helpless, hopeless hysterics. Trying to break the titanium mesh that secured her. Struggling to just get a breath.
Tickle tickle General Perez said softly.
(If you like Part 1, I'll post Part II in a few days because I won't grow up)
What the fuck are you doing? Ellen Ripley demanded, twisting, trying to wrench her arms free of General Perez and Corporal Hicks. It's just a cast reunion party! C'mon, Dan, Michael, leave me the hell alone! What the hell's WRONG with you?!
"We don't know who you're talking about," Perez said, calmly, "but we do know that wherever you go, scaly, acid-spewing monsters are right on your heels."
"And speaking of heels," Hicks added, "we can't kill you because our whole world would go, too. Eternal hypersleep takes up too much space; plus, it's boring. Now this," he said, as they rounded a corner and hustled Ripley into a torchlit room, "this took imagination. This took BRAINS. This oughta wipe that damned pout off your face. For good."
Perez and Hicks pushed Ripley into a vinyl examining chair, securing her arms with flexible titanium mesh bands. They watched her for a moment, threatening, sweating, swearing. Six feet of auburn hair, fiery eyes, thrashing legs, potty mouth. God. Ellen Ripley strapped down. "Get the ankles," Perez instructed.
Ripley almost caught Hicks in the teeth with a flailing boot. He dodged just in time, grinning. It's coming, Ellen he almost crooned. Not no goddamn alien, either . . . although we owe one a big thank you for this. He secured Ripley's feet. Her back arched, hips convulsed. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! she fumed.
"It's no use," General Perez sighed, perching on an examining stool beside her. "Listen to me, Ellen." Water dripped somewhere. Shadows danced in the torchlight. Ripley continued to scream curses. "Ellen. Tell us who you are."
Ripley stopped struggling. "For the last time, Dan," she said (through teeth), "I am Sigourney Weaver. We are -- WERE -- at an Alien reunion party. What a laugh, to want to be reunited with you creeps! You are Dan Hedaya. And YOU, fucker, are Michael Biehn. You're fucking B-Reel actors from a damn monster movie and you are NOT going to court. You're not passing go. You are NOT collecting two hundred fucking dollars. I'm gonna put you right in the goddamn MORGUE when I get out of . . ."
"Hicks, take her boots off now," Perez said quietly. "It's just like The Company said. Fifty-seven years in cryogen have made her more than just schizophren . . ."
"KNOCK OFF THE FUCKING JOKE NOW!" Ripley screamed. "Fine! You got me! I'm really scared! But not as scared as you're gonna be when . . . "
"Ellen, Ellen. Shhh. Shhh while you still can. This isn't a movie. The curtain never came down. No credits, no overture. No audience. Just deep, silent space. No one can hear you scream.
"And no one can hear you laugh . . .
"Except you. Me. And Hicks. We understand now that we all exist because of you. We're all out here because of you and your monsters. You imagined us right into reality. Tortured us with your beasts in the ventilation shafts. We want it to end. But if we end you, it's no more General Perez, no more Corporal Hicks, no more playing soldier. No more anything. We can't kill you. But we can punish you, Ellen. We can surely punish you for sticking us out here with them, dear heart."
And we're GONNA Hicks breathed. OH yeah.
"Get it out," Perez instructed.
"I swear to GOD you two are FUCKING DEAD, FUCKING DEAD . . ."
"Shut. Up." Perez whispered. "Your filthy mouth, your nasty disposition, who's the real alien out here, Ellen dearest? I don't think it's them. Because, you see, they've given us something good after all."
"The acid," Hicks whispered in Ripley's ear. "The acid can be . . . FIXED."
"Refined," Perez corrected. "Refined, purified, perfected. Show her."
Hicks sat on a stool opposite Ripley's bare feet. "Your feet are big, Ripley," he said. "Kinda pretty, though. Maybe there's something else about your feet we should all find out." He reached out with both hands and tickled her soles. "Are ya . . . ticklish?"
"Good God, boys," Ripley rolled her eyes. "Is that why you're pulling this whole stupid PRANK? You wanna tickle my FEET? What a stupidass waste of everyone's time, including yours. And I'm not even ticklish!"
"Corporal," Perez said. "Put some on."
Ripley's pout relaxed, disappeared as Hicks opened a jar containing some thick, green liquid. "This is acid from the aliens," Perez told her, "refined acid. Not the same stuff that killed most of Hicks's company and my crew. Not anymore. Hicks and I and what's left of our research team did our homework. This is something new, Ellen. You're about to spend the rest of your life finding out what it is. The rest of your life."
Hicks poured a thin layer of the alien liquid over Ripley's right foot. Immediately, the neatly-trimmed toes began twitching. Hmm mmm mmm Ripley chuckled. Hee hee hee HA HA HA GOOD GOD HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA FUCK! FUCK! HAA (labored breath) HAA (pause, breath) HA HA HAA HAA . . .
The men watched Ellen Ripley laugh in helpless, hopeless hysterics. Trying to break the titanium mesh that secured her. Struggling to just get a breath.
Tickle tickle General Perez said softly.
(If you like Part 1, I'll post Part II in a few days because I won't grow up)
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