It was … a dodo. One of the last, even in the seventeenth century. The large bird appeared quite comfortable in the closet and was even interested in the slide show.
The Pizza Boy asked his host if he could pet the dodo.
“Sure, Sonimod, help yourself. Your cousins Osmondi and Noodism love that bird.”
Eager to get away from the monotonous voice and the poorly focused slides, the Pizza Boy walked over to get a better look.
Then something else caught Sonimod’s eye. Just as he entered the room, following the buxom older woman, a slight man dressed all in black, carrying a janitor’s tote tray, slipped into the hallway. A few minutes later Sonimod saw him, through the picture window, slipping away in the night. More and more he noticed an odd, pungent, sweet odor in the room. The woman had been wearing a pair of baggy black slacks and a pale green tank top, and old brown house slippers, when she led him in. Now her clothing was apparently almost gone, leaving threadbare bits of cloth on her lap and on her bust, covered by her arms.
She notice Sonimod watching the little man stealing away and said, “That’s my caretaker. Really nutty. Told me this morning he’d come in today and spray something that would dissolve cloth. Really kooky!”
Then she absently leaned back and the bits of clothing fell to the floor, leaving her bare. She didn’t seem to notice this, but she glanced at the pizza boy’s crotch; her eyes bugged out and she gasped, "Oh my Lord!!!"
As she sprang toward him, Sonimod, certainly no dummy, realized that any moment she would…
…any moment she would…be heading for the swing.
“Oh crap,” he thought. “Here we go again. I don’t think my nuts can handle another go. What am I, a porn star?”
“It’s been years,” she sadi. “Come blow the dust off of me.” Within seconds, she grabbed the swing from the closet, knocking the dodo over in the process.
“Hey! Careful lady!” the dodo yelled. “I’m practically extinct, you horny moron!”
As she clipped the swing into place, Sonimod made his escape, diving through an open window. Unfortunately for him, below the window was…
Unfortunately for him, below the window was…
a hefty bag full of dog fur. These neighbors must know Perry. The Pizza Boy’s animal fur allergies came back with a vengence and he began to swell up and turn purple. In fact, he now had a strong resemblance to…
…the monolith from my recent “Do-It-Yourself Cthulhu Story” thread. But we won’t go there.
Instead, let’s turn to the real Sonimod, who was boozing it up at the Copacabana, lamenting the fact that no one was showing him slide shows of Hoover Dam.
“Darn!” said Sonimod. “I could be sitting there petting a dodo, watching water backing up behind a big piece of concrete! If only I hadn’t lost that address!” He had some more honey-roasted peanuts and took a big swig of beer.
At that point, John burst in, brandishing his broadsword…
At that point, John burst in, brandishing his broadsword…
…and not just any boradsword, this one was actually shaped like a broad. John’s a fairly odd chad, as you may have picked up on. Holding the sword in front of the bar-lights, he started makeing shadow puppets of women he’d dated in the past. On-lookers stared, not really knowing what to say. In the distance, a cricket chirped and a cat meowed. The driving rain began to die down and John, tiring of reliving the old pain that forced him to marry old-what’s-her-name in the first place, dicided it was time to take action, it was time he finally…
John, tiring of reliving the old pain that forced him to marry old-what’s-her-name in the first place, decided it was time to take action, it was time he finally…
asked his first wife, the clown-nun-demolitions-expert, to help him kill the Pizza Boy. She was still in the Copacabana. “C’mon,” he pleaded, “I have to make sure Susan’s soul is at rest. And the souls of those two Jehova witnesses. Between my swordsman skills and your explosives knowledge he won’t stand a chance.” “Sure,” the clown-nun said, “He has a strange, unearthly power over women. It even got me to break my vow of celibacy. He must be stopped before any more innocent clown-nuns are corrupted!” On their way out of the Copacabana, John was stopped by Sonimod. “Hey, you’re the guy with the sword collection! My cousin talked about you on the phone!” Sonimod introduced himself to John and John gave Sonimod the address of the lady with the dodo. Sonimod ran out of the Copacabana, visions of slide shows filling his mind. John and the clown-nun followed at a more liesurly pace. Now where could that idiot-adultering-etc-etc Pizza Boy be?
Sonimod half walked, half ran to the address. Hoover Dam! He had seen a small dam once in Kentucky, but nothing like this. He started singing an impromptu song to himself, “Hoover Dam” to the tune of “Muskrat Love”. He was so preoccupied that he didn’t notice the Domino’s delivery car parked in front of his uncle’s house, or the several tiny bulldozers embedded in it.
Walking up the sidewalk, he turned in time to see the still-sneezing, very purple Pizza Boy. He looked at the shirt in astonishment. “You’re Sonimod, too?”
“What? Aaaaaachooo! Why is everyone – aaaaachoooooo! – calling me that? Aaaaaaa… Damn, I hate when they get stuck.”
Sonimod pointed to the Pizza Boy’s shirt. The Pizza Boy changed from purple and puzzled to purple and understanding. Just then, John and the nun/clown/demolitions expert showed up.
John pulled out the broadsword. The nun pulled out a hand grenade and a bottle of holy water. The Pizza Boy, suddenly seeing how things stood, made a sound hard to spell but which you’ve heard in martial arts films. He did a backflip, landed hard on Sonimod’s instep, and…
**Now where could that idiot-adultering-etc-etc Pizza Boy be? **
One bottle of Benadryl later, the pizza boy finally was able to shake off the results of falling into a bag of fur. The hacking, gasping and wheezing was gone, but sleepiness from the antihistimine was hitting him upside the head like a bag of stale donuts.
He began stumbling off into the darkness, eager to find a place to sleep. Up ahead, he noticed a dark and inviting doorway. He trudged on and settled into the inky haven, relieved to know he would finally get some much needed shut-eye.
As he drifted off to unconsciousness, he suddenly realized he was not alone in the doorway…
As he drifted off to unconsciousness, he suddenly realized he was not alone in the doorway…
He was being licked by a recently-shaved French Poodle, a poodle whose remaining fur was suspiciously like that in the trash bag. Pizza Boy jumped up, sneezed, read the two posts above, made a series of sounds resembling “Aaaaaiieeeeee! Ha! Haiyyoowwooooo”, sneezed again, jumpead and landed on Sonimod’s foot, then…
sneezed again, jumped and landed on Sonimod’s foot, then…
Sominod slugged him in the jaw and growled, “Dammit, watch where you put thos damned feet, you klutz!!”
The pizza boy reeled for a little while, pressing a conveniently-placed hunk of steak to his sore jaw. Then he apologized and said, to Sominod, “Look what I got–two whole vials of Viagra!” He held one out.
"All right!" Sominod took the Viagra and both guys took pills according to the label. And just in time, too. the older, buxom woman whose clothes dissolved off her body was approaching–still naked–along with her identical twin sister.
“We want MORE!!!” the women cooed.
So Pizza Boy and Sominod gave the women more…
So Pizza Boy and Sominod gave the women more…
pizza, coupons for $1 off their next order (if made this month), and a year’s subscription to “Dentistry Today” magazine.
The nun/clown/demolition expert/etc. was outraged and impatient with what she saw. She hurled the holy water bottle, which glanced off the Pizza Boy’s still-purple forehead. “And now the grenade!” she said, pulling the pin.
John turned back into a newt, this time permanently. “Damn”, he said in Newtish. The broadsword clattered to the ground, making a discordant sound which spoiled the aim of the nun as she threw the grenade. It exploded in the alley right next to the bag of poodle fur, which flew up into the air.
The Pizza Boy started sneezing again. The nun saw the newt which had been John and ran away in horror, recalling a childhood newt-related trauma.
Sonimod, meanwhile, had quietly walked up to the front door, knocked and been invited inside.
“Uncle Nismodo!” he exclaimed.
“Sonimod?” said his uncle confusedly. “I guess it must be you; the other guy didn’t-- Hmm.” He stared at Sonimod questioningly. “The fat man barks at midnight.”
“The dodo watches the dam” replied Sonimod.
“Ah, it is you!” said his uncle. “Good thing. Well, now we can finish our plan of stealing all of this planet’s hydropower and bringing it home to Planet Ismondo.”
“Where we can use it to power millions of slide shows!”
“Nothing can stop us now, except maybe a spore cloud! Buwahahaha!”
“Buwahahaha!”
Speaking of the spore cloud, it was hovering outside the neighbor’s window, watching the slide show. (Spore clouds rarely get to see pictures of far-away places.) But neither the neighbors nor Sonimod noticed it.
John the Newt probably would have been squished by something, but fortunately he was rescued by Joe Camel. The two went back to John’s house, where they began looking through the Necronomicon for a ‘Restore’ spell that would change John back to his normal self.
Meanwhile, Lilith the Satanic milkmaid had almost completed her spell…
almost completed her spell. . .
Which, as it happened, produced nothing more than a flash of light and an evil smelling smoke. Meanwhile, back at the Bar S Ranch. . .
As they pored over the Necronomicon back at John’s house, Joe Camel asked if he could smoke. The newt made a reply which might have seemed positive to a nicotine-deprived camel. Joe lit up.
John thought back to the mysterious old book seller who had sold him the book. (“Necronomicons! Get your Necronomicons! Can’t raise a ghastly, nameless, indescribable, aeons-old abomination without a Necronomicon! Step right up! Genuine leather! Necronomicons! Cash and carry only, please. Necronomicons!”) Could that have been some kind of warning?
Oh well, he was a newt, thought John. What could happen that would be worse?
He could turn into a mysterious old bookseller!!!
BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA :D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D
Meanwhile, the spore cloud realized it had certain other talents it had, unlike most spore clouds, overlooked. Leaving Sominod & Co. for a while, it drifted toward a local high school and hovered invisibly over the girls’ PE field for a while. Among the girls playing handball was 14-year-old Lee Perry, who felt inferior to the other girls present because she was still straight as a stick and the others had long since started blossoming out. The spore cloud took pity on Lee and descended around her. The next thing she knew, Lee was…
…bustin’ out like Carmin Electra! God bless her. Lee looked down at her new self in disgust, since she had always been against the whole “beautiful women” thing and felt that she would just be part of a stereotype now. The moment she looked up, five men were looking at her, sizing her up thinking that her breastistisiziszisz were quite the perky ones! Noticing them notice her, she found a mirror and, quite surprisingly at least to her, began foldling herself. Rather than turn this thread into a smutty thread, she decided to…
Rather than turn this thread into a smutty thread, she decided to…
join the Convent of Clown-Nuns. She immediatly ran out to find John’s first wife and get directions.
With Lee out of the story, let’s get back to Lilith. She was sitting in her pentagram, amidst the burnt remains of her failed spell. “Shit!” she lamented, “I thought I had everything ready. Now I’ll have to sacrifice a new goat and start all over again. I wonder if that nice spore cloud will lend me a few more of its spores.” Just then, there was a bright flash of light from John’s house. Joe Camel had successfully cast a spell from the Necronomicon. John was no longer a newt, but instead now looked like…
John was no longer a newt, but instead now looked like…
Carmen Electra. “Damn you spore cloud!” John cried before being reminded that his name was now Jane. Joe Camel, being the phallic symbol that he is, made his smooth ass moves as he sauntered over to “Jane.”
Well, Joe got into a coughing fit, what with him having cancer of the hump, and Jane made her escape. Outside the apartment, though, he ran into the Pizza boy.
“Damn you pizza boy!” she cried. “Damn you and damn Sominod to death!”
“Um, excuse me,” Sonimod said, “but I’m not Sominod. I’m Sonimod. Sominod’s my brother. We’re twins. Pizza boy is our brother. We’re all triplets.”
“Oh,” Jane said, now in complete confusion. “can someone here get rid of these breasts?”
Pizza boy nodded as he pulled out of his pizza box a…
Pizza boy nodded as he pulled out of his pizza box a…
little yellow book entitled “Breast Reduction Surgery For Dummies.” Well, John (or Jane, or Carmen, or whatever her name was now) didn’t like this plan of action at all. So he/she ran to the one person who could still help him/her: Lilith. After explaining his/her plight to Lilith, the Satanic milkmaid said “Sure, I can remove the magic spell from you. However, I’ll need someone to transfer the spell to.” John/Jane immediately nominated the Pizza Boy. “Excellent choice,” Lilith said, “There’s just one more thing I’ll need, and that is…”