Chapter 7b: The Greatest Blow on Earth

written by: Jenn Dlugos (appearing courtesy of Just Laugh magazine)

Coming down the street was the Annual Hemophiliac Serial Mountain Goat Rapists’ Parade. They were unmistakable because of their shirts that said, "BLEAT IF YOU’RE HORNY," and the banner that said WE (Heart) and a picture of a mountain goat’s glorious back door.

"Where would one find a mountain goat to violate in Bermuda?" Tim asked.

Jerry wasn’t paying much attention as he was staring at the Man in Blue Suede. Jerry watched him lean against the newsstand, apparently uninterested in the bestialitophites marching down the street. Then, ever so imperceptibly, he looked up at the passing parade, tipping his hat and smiling to a midget who looked like a distant cousin of Sara Dallin from Bananarama and was holding a MOUNTAIN GOATS HAVE SCHLONGS, TOO flag.

"Dude! Did you see that?" Jerry said, poking Tim.

"What?"

"The Man in Blue Suede! He knows one of the Mountain Goat Rapists!"

"So?"

"Let’s go talk to her! Maybe we can find out why he tried to numb our nuts!"

Tim let out an exasperated sigh, "Dude, we gotta find the girls and that Willy Nelson pothead. He didn’t see us, let’s pretend we didn’t see him."

Tim’s protest was completely futile, because a moment later Jerry was dragging him past Planet Hollywood by his Bermuda shorts. They crossed the street quickly to avoid being trampled by the troop o’ nymphos. As soon as they crossed, the Man in the Blue Suede took a casual glance their way.

"Duck!" Jerry screamed, pulling Tim down into a rather prickly azalea bush.

Tim screamed as the bush pierced through his Salvation Army Bermuda shorts, leaving a Connect the Bleeding Red Dots Playing Board on his somewhat bony anus.

"You know, after being with you, I’d welcome a stun gun in the nads..." Tim growled.

The Bananarama lookalike passed by right then. Balancing his body weight on the prickly azalea bush in order not to be spotted by The Man in Blue Suede, Jerry got in prime position.

"Excuse me? Girl with the obscene flag?" he whispered.

She looked around until she spotted two men in the azalea bush.

"Are you talking to me?" Her voice was the cross between Ross Perot and the Charlie Brown schoolteacher, which is the stereotypical voice for all midgets.

"Yes. I’m sorry to bother you, but do you know him?" Jerry asked, pointing at the Man in Blue Suede, who was unmindful of the fact that his two young nemesis were currently having their toilet cushions cut up in a Jesus’ thorny crown fashion by a rather unruly piece of shrubbery.

"Yeah, sort of. Why?" she said.

"How do you know him?"

She looked wearily at The Man in Blue Suede before giving a quick glance back to the boys.

"I can’t talk right now." She handed him a business card. "Meet me here in an hour. I’ll tell you everything."

The place on the business card was a mountain goat whorehouse named Milky Wonders, which was cleverly disguised as a worm farm and bait shop. The boys walked in to an encore of ecstasy bleats and bellows from behind the closed "servicing" rooms. The sounds were much like a livestock opera, and the two boys couldn’t help to look at each other in disgust.

"Don’t knock it if you haven’t tried it," a voice said behind them.

The two boys spun their head around and noticed the Bananarama midget smiling up at them.

"I almost expect you guys not to come. Most people are turned off by the sign."

This is completely understandable as the neon sign outside continuously flashes a man bumping the arse of a goat and the goat bleating with hearts coming up from her head.

"Well, we’re in a desperate situation," Jerry sighed

"I figured. Everyone who knows The Man in Blue Suede is in a desperate situation."

"All right. But I can only take one of you into my room. I may be the madam here, but I still have to follow the rules."

Jerry looked at Tim who gave a hand gesture that said, "Be my Guest." Jerry followed the midget into her bedroom and took a seat on the goat pen.

"First of all, my name is Freda. And, you are?"

"Jerry."

"So, what’s your dealing with The Man in Blue Suede."

"He tried to numb my privates with a stun gun."

"Well, everyone needs a hobby."

"Excuse me?" Jerry said.

"Listen. You got off lucky. That guy is the most dangerous man in Bermuda."

"But why is he after us?"

"He’s not. He’s after your two girls."

"Wait a second, how do you know them?"

"You think just because a girl is a hemophiliac midget who has a fetish for mountain goats, that she’s a moron? You’ll find out there’s not much I don’t know. "

"Well, can you help me?"

"I can’t, but I know someone who can. You want to go to Traci Lords ambiguously virgin-like twin sister, Francis - here’s her address. She can answer your questions. I’m sorry, I can’t help you more, but you’ll understand why when you go to her."

Jerry took the address from Freda and gave her his thanks. He walked out into the hallway. As if fated, Tim emerged from one of the semiprivate rooms with his pants around his ankles and an anorexic mountain goat trailing behind him. He collapsed on the floor and looked up at Jerry with climaxing stars in his eyes.

"Don’t knock it ‘til you try it, " Tim spoke between labored breaths.

Jerry never even noticed that the sign on the room said, "Patricia the Pygmy Goat: The Greatest Blow on Earth..."

Stay tuned for the next chapter with Tim & Jerry...
Continue on to the next chapter with Jane & Julia...