Barbarian King

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Barbarian King Page 11

by Frank B. Thompson III

her eyes growing bigger and brighter at the strange sights of this new place.

  “Wow, this place looks crazy,” she announced, with swelling confusion. “Where do you suppose we are; are we dreaming?”

  “You know, you could be right,” the President responded, doubtful that anything could make better sense, “but, this could also be another dimension.”

  So considerable was the possibility that the President could be right and that this was all real... not some sort of nightmare that they would awaken from.

  Under her tangled mane that fell over her low, broad brow; her blue eyes blazed with an unquenched desire to see what she had become. She looked inquisitively at herself, then noticed her morphed tootsies and screamed out, another ear-splitting squeal that caused the President to stumble when rushing to cover his ears, again!

  A-ieee!

  “I can’t get elected with feet like...”

  A-ieee!

  “...and what happened to my legs? They’re so big...and what’s with all the hair? I just had them waxed yesterday. This can’t be happening.”

  Bzzz...

  Shadows suddenly darkened their surroundings with the sounds of wings buzzing rapidly from overhead.

  Bzzz...

  They both instinctively froze listening to the strange buzzing noise intermixed with strange barking sounds. It was a pack of flying, misbegotten creatures they only glimpsed for the briefest of moments through the treetops. Just as suddenly as they arrived they were gone.

  She spoke in a whispered voice, “Have you ever heard anything so strange?”

  “No, I can’t say that I have,” adding with a nod, “I think it’s best if we keep our voices down, no telling what kind of predators we might run into here in this strange land.”

  The two stood still and silent, until they were sure the apparent menace was gone, then BamaOay carefully tiptoed over to a nearby tree and casually ripped off a limb. IllaryHay still needed a walking stick. Stripping off the foliage he was tiptoeing back over to the sitting damsel when a prehistoric, furry, four-legged, squirrel-like something started raising a ruckus over having its home torn asunder.

  Cheep...cheep...

  BamaOay turned with care to see the small, cute, little critter hugging its tree home a short distance away staring at him wide-eyed and with the look of innocence in its face. BamaOay whispered to the creature in a calm, friendly tone, even while he invited the little creature to come a little closer to play.

  Eek...eek!

  "Come here you little shit," he whispered in one of the most harmless of voices he could muster, so as not to scare the little fellow. "I just want to pet you you adorable little furry whatever you are.”

  Slowly he wielded the tree limb like a baseball bat and quietly approached the cute little tree creature.

  “That’s it, stay just like that you little bastard...just a little closer.”

  Kaboom!

  BamaOay’s club shattered under the colossal impact against the trunk, just milliseconds too late! With a cry of fright the ‘squirrel thing’ turned and ran fleetly up to safety, as leaves shaken loose by his mighty blow came raining down around his shoulders to the forest floor.

  The cute little creature did not squeak in protest, nor mock the two-legged giant; instead it went scurrying off leaping from limb to limb, from one woody perennial to another to disappear a short time later.

  “Goddamn it!” he bellowed at the top of his lungs shaking loose more leaves from his surroundings with his mighty voice.

  Slowly...very slowly the President’s thirst for blood began to cool, hunger replacing his newfangled barbarian instincts. “I really wanted to eat that fuzzy thing for din din.” Turning back to the prehistoric woman he shrugged his shoulders saying, “Okay, maybe I’ll get that thing next time.”

  Looking at the remaining shattered piece of wood he held in his hands he laughed merrily at the sight. “Damn, I did that? Wow, I’m a lot stronger than I thought!”

  “I’m still waiting for a little help.”

  “Oh yea, right, easy enough,” he said, tiptoeing to another low-hanging limb and ripped it from the tree with ease. Soon stripped of ancillary branches, he handed her the walking stick. “Here, use this to help yourself up,” adding, “I can give you a hand, but only so long as I don’t have to stoop over.”

  She accepted his assistance and after a little wobbling, huffing, puffing and with the help of the walking stick succeeded in gaining her feet.

  She stood like a tower, at first unsteadily, but not for the same reasons as BamaOay. The woman was almost a giant in stature and her muscles stood out in thick corded ridges on legs that bulged and rippled with each of her movements under her dirty outfit.

  “Wow, look how tall I am!” she exclaimed, discerning she was now within half-a-skull of being as tall as BamaOay.

  Looking down at her footwear, she mourned, “Goddamnit, I just bought these on Fifth Avenue. The damn things are too tight now.”

  She kicked off her right sandal.

  Vrooom!

  It went sailing and melted away into the canopy of trees.

  “Did you just see that?” she asked in amazement. “Geez, no wonder...just look at the size of my legs!”

  “Wow, I’d say those have got to be the biggest, strongest looking legs I have ever seen!” sighed the President, relieved she had not used all that power when kneeing him in the nuts.

  “Let me try the other.”

  Zooom!

  “Holy shit, that one took off too!”

  In the real world she would have been a giant among women on whose braced, hairy legs were corded with beefiness and hard as iron. With that show of force IllaryHay began to breathe more easily, her unwarranted self confidence commenced to thaw out again. She looked down at herself with growing approval; everything seemed to be more, or less normal appearing...save for her feet. Her hands were still soft, supple, manicured, but more fleecy. Her arms seemed a bit longer than they used to be, but were otherwise still untoned and a little furry. Her blouse was a bit tighter fitting and covered with a modicum of dirt and grass stains from her slumbering upon the ground. The normally loose-fitting pantsuit seemed a lot tighter around the waistline and thighs, but was livable if just a wee bit filthy, too.

  “So far, so good,” she murmured to herself, just before something odd caught her eye. “Holy shit, what is that?”

  Gasp!

  “What...what the hell happened to my ass?”

  It looked like she were wearing a Victorian bustle.

  She stumbled about for a bit trying to get a better look. The President was beginning to get aroused at the sight and...and he was starting to get some wood, again! He could not help but think how perfect her ass looked and just the way he liked them...big and round; however his desirous thoughts were jarred suddenly with...

  “You dirtbag, are you getting another boner?”

  “No,” he lied, bashfully.

  “Just remember, I can still kick you in the balls if you try anything cute.”

  “Okay...okay, I get it.”

  A deep, low rumble came to both their ears.

  “What was that sound?”

  “I don’t know?” he responded, doubt evident in his voice. “Oh wait, that’s me. Say, the sight of that furry little meal has made me a little hungry.”

  The stomach rumblings triggered a scintilla of hunger pangs for IllaryHay, too.

  Borborygmus...

  “Have you seen anything to eat around here,” she asked, looking not at the President, but in a variety of directions hoping to spy something tasty.

  “I’ve seen a few mushrooms, some lizards, some of those squirrelly things, but that’s about it.”

  “Lizards sound marvelous,” she replied, a slight bit of drool appearing from the corner of her maw. “Wait! Did I really just say that? What the hell is wrong with me?”

  “Hey, look there!” blurted the President, pointing off
at a group of unusual bushes a distance away. “I think those are apples!”

  “Where, I don’t see anything.”

  “Down there,” he pointed, meaningly to the south. “Fruit looks to be growing on some bushes not too far off.”

  “Oh, I see them. Excellent, let’s just go and have a look.”

  “Okay, come on.”

  “Right behind you.”

  “Oh no you don’t mister, I don’t trust you. You lead the way.”

  Stoned in Paradise

  The Jacksonville Post-Journal-Times-Chronicle - An Eastern Airlines 757 was forced to return to Jacksonville International Airport today when it unexpectedly bumped into severe turbulence on the way to Atlanta. Some on the flight say it was no ordinary encounter, but that an unidentified flying object had come close to striking the jetliner.

  Johnny Schmidt was one such witness and had this to say, “The flight attendants were handing out the usual crappy Saltine crackers and cheap bottled water when the aircraft suddenly shuddered...violently. I looked out my window and saw something! A UFO I think, but I would swear it looked more like the front end of a pickup truck...a Ford I think. Certainly not a flying saucer.” Several other passengers had similar stories, but saying that the unidentified flying object they had seen resembled pieces of a trailer home rather than a pickup.

  It was a Sierra Club wet dream...a dense wilderness forest surrounded by towering rocky heights. The steep-sided valley appeared desolate and vacant of higher intelligent life to their unschooled eyes, but intelligence of sorts teemed there not alone of frightful and hairy creatures, but also of primitive, ecologically sound tribes.

  BamaOay’s gait in the underbrush was

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