5.07 / July 2010

from Henrytown

QUEEN MOTHER BRARD AND HER MALE HELPER drove into Danville to the Bonanza. She kept making a big deal about being there. She put their meals on her Senior Club Card.

Her helper went into the restroom and pointed his wiener down in the toilet. He went to the bathroom in the toilet. He was holding his wiener in his fingers. He came over and placed his headdress by the sink and brushed his hair.

When he came out he saw Queen Mother going toward the salad bar. He went and placed his headdress at their table. He looked and saw Queen Mother at the salad bar holding their plates. The lights over the salad bar were blinding. He fixed his silken cravat. He walked over there. She said something to him about what she wanted on her salad. There was a glare coming off the metal surface of the salad bar. He looked at the salad bar. He leaned toward the salad bar. His rear end was clamped together. He couldn’t really see. He tried looking back toward their table but it was a wall right there; it was patrons right there. He hung onto the corner of the salad bar. The food looked like it was laser beams.


MARTY-NEIL WILLARD WAS RIDING in Yetunde’s hatchback; his beard was all over the place.

Yetunde was driving; her hairdo was scraping the roof.

Paco was in the back in his child seat trying to figure out how to word a question he had in his mind.

OK, Marty-Neil’s seatbelt strap was under his beard, right exactly between his boobs. I want you to know that Marty-Neil had these real soft, bald boobs. He was hairy up and down his arms and legs and on his chest and back; and he pretty much had second and third beards on his frontal genital area and on his anus area, respectively.

But, you know, he had these soft little bald boobs.

The structuring was different from regular human boobs; his were more tube-like. They reminded me of the snake toys you can get, because if you pushed or squeezed one, the nipple part, or sometimes the whole other boob, would bulge out toward you.

But you never wanted to squeeze his boobs real hard or handle them in a rough way—you always carefully took control of Marty-Neil Willard’s boobs.

You know when you go to touch regular boobs your fingers point up or maybe to the side, depending on your angle? Well, with Marty-Neil, you held your hand like you were going to shake hands, and then you gently curled your fingers under and around his boob like that. Actually, before you touched his boobs at all, you had to get his beard out of the way. But you always, always carefully took control of his soft little bald boobs. And you smiled warmly at him.

Yetunde turned her vehicle into the Danville mall parking lot; one of Marty-Neil’s boobs hooked around by his armpit.

“Here we are, Mr. Five Years Old,” Marty-Neil said, turning around in his seat to talk to Paco. “I’ll get you any toy you want in this whole mall.” There were a great many motorists on the Bergner’s side of the parking lot looking for spots.

Marty-Neil had the impulse to get out and walk into Bergner’s, tie his beard back, and empty a bottle of real fancy moisturizer all on his boobs. He would need to get away from his nephew and sister, for they would feel bad seeing that kind of a scenario. They would hate seeing that. Plus, given the chance, he didn’t know if he could bring himself to do it in front of them. He didn’t think he could stay in the same frame of mind if they were watching. But he didn’t want to get away from them. He didn’t want to be alone in Bergner’s. He didn’t want to be by himself. He wanted his Yetunde and his Paco near him. He wanted to buy them nice things they wanted to have. He also wanted pure white moisturizer to be upon every, single square inch of his boobs.


ALL RIGHT, Joshua Waughop the hunchback dwarf had a real limited set of magical powers he could do. I mean real limited. Some dwarfs can do metallurgy and everything else, but not Joshua. In fact, the only trick he could do in this world was conjure a little blue wagon and ride around in it.

And anyway, one day in ’83, Joshua was eating a sack lunch in his little fort made out of blankets in the woods north of Edda Pond, thinking about what Rambo had done and said in the movie. Rambo had yelled in the movie and Joshua thought about that, about Rambo yelling. Rambo really seemed like a guy who meant business.

A little later, Joshua conjured his blue wagon and rode around like he never saw the movie.

OLD LOOKY COMING ALONG asphalt concrete on his adult tricycle like he liked. I’m standing there. Something lifted Looky into the air. There was a lifting. He was lifted off the asphalt concrete. He was being lifted like he was rigged up to wires. He was floating slowly over the earth; he looked like he believed this was normal. He kept floating slowly and pedaling like he was still on asphalt concrete. He was acting like he didn’t think it was anything, but I can tell you it was just like something was going on, like it was an event of some kind.

Pretty soon he was lowered and placed back on the road. I saw this and heard the noise of this. He was on his side; the tricycle (his weapon) was on its side. I go over. There were hair clippings on his shirt. He got up passionately and picked up his weapon. There were leaves everywhere. He had a passion burning in his mind. Leaves were all over the place, in our hair. I’m standing there; it was even leaves inside my helmet.