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Original stories by Shmolnick that humorously explore the dark side of humanity.

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An Audience with Lord Porkington

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Happyland Hijinx

Part One: A Public Clamor

Once upon a time in dark forest there lived two evil creatures named Shmolnick and Bubble.

Shmolnick and Bubble were so evil that their families had forced them out of their village years before. The creatures shared an evil peapodde that they called home. They also had poddemules that they used to transport themselves and various evil goods.

The anger that the two poddedwellers felt at being evicted from their village grew exponentially over the years until both Shmolnick and Bubble had reams of papers detailing various plans for violent cruel revenge.

Now meanwhile, back at the village, called Happyland, the Happylanders were engaged in various happy sunny hijinx, safe in their belief that the two evil creatures banished long ago were far away and would never be seen again.

The Mayor of Happyland, Hizzoner Straczny, and his hapless but
loyal assistant Krotz, watched from the balcony of the Mayor’s Residence as the villagers celebrated yet another joyous feast day. Another pair of eyes watched as well, from a safe distance.

At the edge of the Dark Forest, a giant hulking figure crouched amid the tall weeds. The Buckess Warrior, all seven feet and three hundred fifty heavily-muscled pounds of her, moved quickly and quietly for someone so huge. The Buckess Warrior came from a superior race across the continent.

This particular Warrior loved hunting hapless white villagers and in fact had been banished herself from her homeland Buckia for her extreme hunting practices.

Far away from her home and the watchful eyes of the Town Elderbucks, The Buckess Warrior prepared her trap. Some villagers were heading out to the nearby grasslands to tend to their sheep and cows. They were sure to discover the missing three cows and four sheep that the Warrior had
killed and consumed for her meal the previous evening. “Yeah, dis village be called Happyland cuz’ AH’M gwine be happy as shit dinin’ on dese li’l critters, heh heh.”

The next day in the Happyland Town Square, the Mayor tried to shout down the panicky villagers.

Someone had found the remains of the four villagers. It was a ghastly sight - some creature had simply devoured most of the four victims while they were still ALIVE!! You could still see the inhumanly wide bite radius.

“Mayor, what kind of creature would do this?” someone yelled. "Yeah, we want action!” “Protect us Mayor!” “HELP!”

The Mayor, being of the useless variety, had no answers. In fact, he had been ready to flee Happyland that very morning until that nitwit assistant of his Krotz told some village elders where to find him. Now Mayor Straczny had to deal with this threat.

“CITIZENS!!! HEAR ME CITIZENS!! It is very important to consider at this juncture the important issue of whether or not Darth Vader really is Luke Skywalker’s father!”

The villagers looked at each other in the crowd and shrugged their shoulders. What was the Mayor talking about? What about the creature? Straczny droned on, and the din of the crowd quickly started to overwhelm him until all were simply shouting at each other and not listening.

Suddenly a loud clanging noise erupted from the back of the crowd. Gradually, the noise level subsided until only the clanging could be heard and all eyes turned to the source of the disruption.

Withered, unwashed and unshaven, one eye permanently closed shut, one leg misshapen with the knee swollen horribly, the Town Burnout, the grizzled Sargeant Pickle, cleared his throat.

“Yeah, you’ll all listen to Pickle, now, won’t ya?” he said bitterly. It was true, he was the town laughingstock and no one ever paid attention to him. They were paying attention to him now, though.

Hizzoner Straczny spoke up, trying to recapture the crowd. “Happylanders, I’m sure we’re all interested in what the grizzled sargeant has to say, but I hardly think now is the ti-“

“SHUT UP YOU USELESS FUCK!” shouted Pickle. Both the Mayor and the crowd were hushed silent.

“That’s better. Now. You wanna know how to protect yourself from the creature? I seen this creature. It’s a giant Buckess.”

“A buckess??” cried one woman, “but I thought they were just a myth.”

“No lady, they’re NOT a myth,” answered Pickle, spitting some leafjuice out of the side of crooked untrustworthy mouth. “I SEEN this one, I says. Eight feet tall, more muscle than your eyes can stand. Eats people WHOLE.”

A collective gasp went up from the crowd. Hizzoner Straczny tried vainly to calm people down.

“People, PEOPLE!! REMEMBER!! May the force be with YOU!! We still have our frisbees and backpacks!!”

“HAH!” said Pickle. “Those frisbees SUCK. They won’t protect you from a buckess. But I know who CAN.”

“Who?” “Who?!” “Tell us!” came the shouts from the crowd.

“I’ll tell you, AND it’ll kill TWO birds with one stone.”

“Well Sargeant,” asked Hizzoner, “who is this miracle worker you speak of? Obi Wan Kenobi? The Soup of Life?”

“The poddedwellers. Shmolnick and Bubble.”

Part Two: A Desperate Measure

The crowd murmured and wailed as the younger villagers asked each other who the grizzled foole was talking about while the older villagers remembered quite well who Pickle was talking about.

The evil poddedwellers, Shmolnick and Bubble.

The evil poddedwellers, Shmolnick and Bubble, who’d been forced out of Happyland years earlier after a series of “incidents.” Shmolnick and Bubble, who’d sworn revenge on that cold day years ago. Shmolnick and Bubble, who played tag-team pied piper to the village’s nubile young women, much to the dismay of the girls’ angry parents. Shmolnick and Bubble, whose audacious public orgies with the village girls caused Hizzoner Straczny no little embarrassment, the Mayor having participated in a few of them. Shmolnick and Bubble, whose house was burned down by a group of angry villagers in the middle of the night.

“Now wait just a minute, you idiote,” yelled Hizzoner. “Go back to smoking your weed, Pickle. We don’t want to bring those two back here.”

Disparate parts of the crowd agreed and disagreed, causing a momentary din. Pickle banged the ladle against his soup-pot, CLANG CLANG CLANG, bringing the murmuring crowd to silence. “I HAVE been smoking my weed, Mister Mayor, but that’s beside the point. We got us a big mean buckess stalking our village. I seen her myself, big black and strong. We don’t have a chance against her. Gobbled down a sheep just like you or me would eat a piece of pie.”

“Oh come now, Pickle,” Hizzoner yelled from the podium. “Those are old wives tales. There are no such things as –“

“DAMN YOUR USELESS HIDE AIN’T YOU BEEN LISTENIN’?!” shouted the grizzled sargeant. “All o’you, listen. I said I seen her and I seen her. Only ones around here I know who can deal with a buckess are those two poddedwellers.”

The Mayor looked at the crowd, which was collectively nodding their heads in apparent agreement with Pickle. The Mayor scanned the crowd one more time to be certain. Yes, they WERE agreeing with the fool, thought Hizzoner. Shouts of “Yeah get them” and “Get the poddedwellers” began to pierce the noise of the crowd. He cleared his throat loudly. “People of Happyland. PEOPLE OF HAPPYLAND HEAR ME!!”

The crowd looked at their Mayor.

“We face a grave threat! And desperate times require, uh, desperate measures. I hereby officially announce that I will be sending an ambassador to the poddedwellers, Shmolnick and Bubble, to seek their aid in our time of need.”

A great cheer arose in response to the Mayor. In the back of the crowd, the grizzled sargeant Pickle looked around him at the cheering crowd and shook his head in disgust. “They’re all sheep,” he muttered to himself. “And they’ll all get swallowed like sheep when that buckess gets a’hold of ‘em.” He snickered, then wiped a single line of fresh snot from his lip using his sleeve.

Behind the podium, unnoticed, a barefoot man wearing brown robes and a backpack smiled a little smile. The Mayor turned around briefly to look at the barefoot man, nodding and smiling in hopes of a compliment. He was rewarded by Brother Hoim’s smile.

Meanwhile, deep in the heart of the Happyland Forest, in a large hollowed out giant pea pod, lived the exiled Shmolnick and Bubble.

They had used their evil powers to furnish the podde with all the modern comforts they desired. State of the art audio and video equipment as well as an entire room devoted to computing gave the place a modern high-tech feel. But the two, who did not have to work due to their evil powers, spent most of their time in the Pleasure Room. The Pleasure Room was a large oval-shaped room in the very center of the podde, its numerous doorways leading to other parts of the podde. It was truly the heart of the evil podde.

At the exact moment when Hizzoner Mayor Straczny was seeking approval from his religious advisor, Brother Hoim, Shmolnick and Bubble were sitting in the Pleasure Room, ingesting a variety of mind-altering substances, munching on delicious candies and cakes, while getting orally
serviced by many beautiful women of all shapes and sizes. Latin jazz music filled the background.

“Ahhh, this is the life, Bubble,” said Shmolnick, releasing another lungful of pleasureweed smoke, then taking another large puff from his home-made pleasureweed pipe. A large wicker basket sat on the floor next to him, half full with Shmolnick’s precious pleasureweed. It was, in fact, his most prized possession. He was only half aware of the two gorgeous amazon women on their knees sucking at his jimmy with their full red lips.

Bubble had three big beautiful women on their knees servicing him as he drank one shot of his homemade happy juice after another. It was one of Bubble’s favorite games: see how many shots of happy juice could one drink and still be adequately pleasured by three BBWs. He never tired of the game.

“BUURRPP!” agreed Bubble with his partner in crime, before filling the shot glass from the happy juice tap. “Here’s a buckess in your ass, man,” he said, raising the glass.

Shmolnick pulled a flexible silver tube from its holder, which sat next to his reclining chair and was attached to the ceiling, and held its end to one eye while squinting the other closed. “Speaking of buckesses, dude, I think we got one in the forest.”

Bubble spit his current shot out in surprise. “What? You’re kidding, right. You idiot.” He pulled his own viewing tube from its holder next to his comfortable recliner and looked carefully, or as carefully as all that happy juice would allow. “Holy FUCK, dude, you weren’t kidding.”

“I told you, man.” Shmolnick took another puff from his pipe. “Shit, we’re gonna have to get rid of it, you know.”

Bubble frowned at the prospect. “Man, how did you know we had a buckess?”

“I looked through the tube, man. How do you think?” Shmolnick snickered.

“You dolte, I mean how did you know to look in the tube?”

“Dude, I can smell a buckess a mile away, you know that.”

“Shit, you’re right. I forgot.” Bubble looked down at the big women slurping at his own tube. “Okay honeys, that’s enough for now. Why don’t you ladies go make yourselves useful and do some cleaning around here.”

SPLORKITY SPLORKE!!!!!! Shmolnick had rigged up a magic audio device that announced loudly and vociferously whenever either of the two poddedwellers ejaculated.

Bubble stood up and shook his head in mock disapproval. “You idiote, NOW is not the time for that.”

Shmolnick patted the two amazons’ heads, eliciting mindless toothy grins from both of them. “Aah, you foole, there is ALWAYS time for that.” He gestured toward an exit and the two women stood up to their full heights of well over six feet in spiked heels, towering over the two exiles. “Go on,
babes, go find something to do.”

“Okay Shmolnick,” answered both women in monotone unison.

Shmolnick and Bubble looked into their viewing tubes again. “I fuckin’ LOVE these viewing tubes, dude,” said Bubble.

“Yeah man, they’re very cool.” He started for an open doorway. “Well, you coming? We’re goin’ buckess huntin’.”

Bubble laughed.

Part Three: A Harmonious Flow

The Buckess Warrior crouched in the tall grass a hundred yards away from the peapodde. The Buckess had superhuman camouflage capabilities, and she was confident that no one would see her in the growing dark of early evening. Somebody lived in the podde, of that much the Buckess was
sure. She had seen a half-naked white man emerge briefly earlier in the day, but he only looked around, smiled oddly and went back inside. Seeing the white man made the Buckess Warrior hungry again. That was hours ago, and now the giant black woman was ravenous.

She inched silently forward through the grass, closer to the podde. The Buckess Warrior must have food! She would pleasure herself with the little creature before she ate it, of course. She licked her lips in anticipation.

Suddenly the Buckess Warrior stopped her forward progress and, flaring her prodigious brown nostrils, sniffed the air.

“Damn, what the fuck dat be?” she mumbled, sniffing again. “Smell like- smell like- DAMN!” The Buckess Warrior’s eyes grew wide with sudden realization and she immediately started inching backward away from the podde. “Mutha fuckin’ evil in dat podde, yo.” The Buckess Warrior edged back through the grass as quickly as she could and soon disappeared in the dark of the night.


Hizzoner Straczny heaved an exasperated sigh, then plopped himself down in his Mayor’s Chair in his office. His assistant Krotz stood on the opposite side of the Mayor’s huge mahogany desk, arms folded, slowly shaking his head from side to side.

"Brother Hoim, see if you can talk some sense into the man,” Hizzoner said to his religious advisor, who sat in a large padded chair in the corner of the plush office.

“I’m not going out there, no way no how Your Honor. I’m sorry, but I’m not gonna be some gorilla’s dinner,” repeated Krotz.

Brother Hoim stood up and moved silently to a position immediately behind the stubborn assistant. A ray of morning sunshine lit his calm face. He put his hand on Krotz’ shoulder and spoke in a quiet, soothing voice.

“Now Brother Krotz, I understand that you have some issues with this assignment.”

Krotz nodded his agreement. “That’s right, I have some major issues with this assignment.”

“The Mayor and I share your feelings my brother. But you must try to remember your lessons, Brother Krotz. The center, remember the center?”

Krotz frowned slightly, and nodded. “Yes, Brother,” he replied quietly, suddenly not quite as angry as he was before.

“And what do we remember about the center?”

“We, uh, I need to work to the center.”

“Why must you work to the center, Brother Krotz?” The itinerant preacher was patting Krotz on the shoulder now.

“To be part of the harmony of the flow.”

“That’s right, good brother. And you serve the harmony of the flow by going on this important mission for Happyland. You see that, don’t you Brother Krotz?”
Krotz was suddenly confused. Yes, Brother Hoim made an awful lot of sense. He, Krotz, really did want to serve the harmony of the flow. What was he so angry about before? He could no longer remember.

“Now Brother Krotz, I think you’re beginning to see, aren’t you?” Brother Hoim turned Krotz to face him and smiled.

“Y-yes Brother Hoim, I-I don’t know what I was complaining about. This assignment is a real honor for me, isn’t it?”

Brother Hoim smiled again. “Yes Brother Krotz, and we are honored by you accepting this assignment. Aren’t we, Mayor?”

The Mayor smiled and nodded. “Yes yes Krotz, extremely honored.”

Krotz grinned. He was honoring the Mayor! “Mister Mayor, you can count on me, sir. I’ll deliver the message to the poddedwellers right away!”

“Good brother, now hurry, “ said Brother Hoim. “May you be in harmony with the flow, Brother Krotz.

Krotz turned before leaving the office. “And may you enjoy the flow of harmony, Brother Hoim,” he said, and left, shutting the door behind him.

The Mayor breathed a sigh of relief. “That nitwit will screw this up somehow I know it.”

Brother Hoim walked over to the Mayor and put his hand on Hizzoner’s shoulder. “Brother Straczny, you need to relax. The stresses and strains of your office are making you tired, aren’t they?”

The Mayor yawned. “Yes, yes Brother Hoim, now that you mention it, I am a little sleepy. Perhaps a little nap will refresh me, eh?”

“Just what I was thinking, my brother. How far you’ve come to know my mind so well.” Brother Hoim patted the Mayor’s shoulder.

Hizzoner Straczny leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. In seconds, he began snoring.

“Yes, Brother Straczny, sleep. Let Brother Hoim manage things for a while, heh heh.” He walked over to the padded chair in the corner, where he’d left his breakfast. He picked up the oversized bowl with the two chopsticks sticking out of it.

“But first, some Soup of Life for Brother Hoim,” he said, holding the bowl up to his nose and breathing in the delicious aroma of stewed crabgrass and noodles.

Part Four: A Foul Fragrance

Krotz made his way through the tall brush on the outskirts of Happyland. In fact, he was only a few hundred yards away from the entrance to the Happyland Forest. Hmm, some name, he thought.

That place was anything BUT happy. But he had given his word to Brother Hoim, he would complete this assignment and get closer to the center.

The forest was always there, its tall forbidding gates a constant dark reminder to the citizens of Happyland that danger could be lurking anywhere. The village had passed an ordinance decades earlier prohibiting anybody from entering the Happyland Forest. Occasionally a careless mother would lose her child to the forest, or some rambunctious teenager would dare the place’s dangers only to disappear without a trace. But mostly people avoided it. Livestock were kept well away from the area as well. Parents would frighten their children into obedience with vague tales of “dark deeds” being done to bad children in the forest.

Krotz pulled the folded map from his shirt pocket and studied its dotted lines and crude drawings one more time. “Here goes nothin’,” he said to himself, and took his first step past the threshold into the Happyland Forest.

He could feel his heart beat faster and his pulse race. He had his trusty baseball bat, Ole Pappy, with him to fend off any dangers. He hoped it would be enough.

Krotz looked around carefully while taking small steps, picking out occasional bare spots of ground where the underbrush was thinnest. He would stop every time he heard a strange noise. Sometimes he would hear a dull low moan from somewhere, other times a sudden chirping from above, and still another time, he’d heard an awful screech from far off. From the direction he was to follow, in fact.

Sweating, frightened, but determined to press forward, Krotz began chanting the mantra Brother Hoim had given him, to help him work to the center. “Owah Tafu Lye Amme, Owah Tafu Lye Amme, Owah Tafu Lye Amme,” he chanted over and over again, giving himself strength.

After more than two hours, Krotz suddenly came upon a forked trail. Ah, finally! Only another hour at most to the poddedwellers! Krotz knew the two exiles, of course, having participated in several of their nefarious events in the past and having had to clean up some of the Mayor’s involvement as well. In fact, he had an agreement with Shmolnick and Bubble that he would give
them updates on village affairs and in return, they would supply him with all the happy juice and pleasure weed he could consume. Of course, in the past Krotz had always met them outside the forest at night. He’d never actually had to travel to their podde before.

He took a step onto the right fork and stopped. He looked around. Something smelled funny suddenly. He sniffed. “What the hell is that smell?” He bent down to peer into the surrounding brush but could see nothing.

Walking again on an actual trail, Krotz started to relax, even with that strange odor. He had to stop again after only a few minutes because the smell had gotten very strong. To Krotz it seemed like a cross between cleaning fluid and human feces. God it was awful!

Looking down at the ground for something with which to cover his mouth and nose (Krotz was too fastidious to consider ripping off a piece of clothing to do the job), he heard a loud rustling in front of him. He looked up from the ground to see two huge muscular brown female legs before him. He continued to look up, his heart racing madly now.

The Buckess Warrior stood blocking his path. Krotz looked up and up and up at her dark smiling face. She was huge! She was more than a full head taller than he, and had the biggest muscles he’d ever seen. And that skimpy loincloth the creature wore did little did conceal her mammoth mammary assets.

“Well well well, what do we gots heah, yo?” The Buckess gripped one taloned brown paw to Krotz face, lashing out with the hand faster than Krotz could see. “You be a skinny lil thang, but ah needs a snack anyways, haw haw.”
Krotz tried to run but felt a second large hand grab him between the legs, holding him immobile.

“Where da fuck do you think YOU be goin’, boy?” asked the Buckess, amused at the animal’s feeble attempt at escape.

“Lemme go lemme go!” shouted Krotz, now panicking. The Buckess Warrior lifted Krotz up easily, holding him above her head like a tree branch, one hand holding his crotch captive and the other holding his neck. The man’s legs wiggled in the air, annoying the Buckess Warrior.

“Mutha fuckin’ stupid animal, best stop wigglin’ yo laigs, boy.”

“FUCK YOU YOU HORRIBLE BEAST LET ME GOOOOOOOO!!!!!” wailed Krotz, held aloft by his captor.

“You axed fo’ it den,” said the Buckess. She swung Krotz down and body-slammed him to the ground. Krotz groaned in pain as he felt a sharp pain travel down his back.

She picked him again like before, and body-slammed him to the ground, harder this time. Krotz reacted with a loud howl of pain. Then he felt his lower back go numb, followed by his ass, followed by his legs. “Oh shit, I’m paralyzed!” he thought desperately. He could just barely move one leg slightly. “Oh good, I can still move, I can still move, work to the center, to the center.”
The Buckess Warrior cocked her head as she listened to the little man start to chant strange words.

The words were annoying her. She grabbed one of the man’s legs and jerked it upward in one fluid motion.



The Buckess Warrior had broken Krotz’ leg at the hip joint! Now she was twisting his leg by rotating his foot. The man howled in protest, but was unable to move. He slammed his fists on the ground in agony.

“Think ah’ll hab me a LAIG, heh heh,” she taunted, and simply ripped the leg right out of the socket, bits of shredded ligament and bone sprinkling the hapless Krotz. Looking down at the man, who was now just barely conscious, she laughed. “Wassamatta boy, ain’t you a laig man?”

She looked directly at him and brought his removed leg up to her wide mouth. She took a large bite out of the thigh and started chewing, letting the blood and other juices run down her chin. “Mm, dat taste good. Little stringy, but good.”

She munched on the man-wing for a while until she was satisfied that there was no more meat on it and absently discarded the remaining bone over her shoulder. Reaching down for the man’s other leg, she said, “Ah just love laigs, yo.”

Part Five: A Good Hunt

By mid-morning that same day, Shmolnick and Bubble’s forays into the areas immediately surrounding their podde had yielded no clues to the whereabouts of the rogue buckess. Shmolnick smelled wisps of her foul fragrance here and there, but this creature was clever. It knew how to hide
its tracks.

Shmolnick stood on one small hillock and gazed out at the Happyland Forest around him. The sun reflected off his black custom-made sunglasses as he jerked his left arm down quickly, releasing the hidden pleasureweed pipe from its clip under his sleeve. He lit the pipe and took a large amount of
smoke into his lungs. He cut a dashing figure in his hunting outfit, which consisted of black fatigues under a long black leather coat. He wore a black cap with his own photograph emblazoned on the front, and black boots that he called “my buckess stompers.” His thick black utility belt held
numerous items in several large pockets, and a holster around his waist carried some sort of firearm. Shmolnick had packed only the essentials in the black compact backpack he now wore. His ensemble was completed by the oversized shotgun slung over his shoulder.

Bubble looked like an evil soldier from a bad children’s movie in his candystriped fatigues, its color scheme of green, white, and red matching his army helmet and boots. The same color scheme adorned his own backpack and utility belt. But the heart of the costume was the Cane. Bubble
yielded the cane expertly and mercilessly. The cane had a carved ivory handle, and was painted all along its length in the candystripe colors. The end of the cane gave off strange multicolored sparkles that faded as quickly as they appeared. These were the legendary candied fumes of Bubble.

“Dude, I think we should go deeper,” suggested Bubble, who then popped a handful of antacids to calm his roiling stomach. He grimaced at the momentary pain and the galling fact that his recurring digestive problem chose today of all days to come back.

Shmolnick looked up at his fellow poddedweller. “Failing digestive system acting up again old chum?” he mocked.

“Fuck you,“ said Bubble.

“I win,” said Shmolnick.

“Well, which way?” Bubble was growing impatient.

“Hm, the smell is fresher over here,” said Shmolnick, walking across the large hilly area behind their podde to a heavy clump of trees. “It was definitely here recently.” He bent down, and picked up a clump of underbrush and held it to his nose. “Yep, it was here. Smells like it’s going that way.” He pointed his hand toward the deepest part of the forest, dropping the clump of underbrush
in the process.

“That’s what I said, man. We need to look deeper.” Bubble shook his head and followed Shmolnick into the clump of trees.

The two made their way through the trees into the denser part of the forest, Bubble leading the way. Bubble swung his cane before him in lazy arcs, and the sparkling emanations from the cane wilted every leafy obstacle in his path. Shmolnick followed, looking on the ground for a clue to the whereabouts of the buckess. His sense of smell picked up faint traces of the buckess, so the two followed that feeble trail.


The piercing scream stopped the two hunters in their tracks. “Dude, I think we found it,” deadpanned Bubble.

Shmolnick reached over his shoulder and pulled out the shotgun. He looked at Bubble and they took off toward the scream, knocking some branches aside and leaping carelessly over others.

They burst through a thicket into a clearing through which the path from the village passed. A barely-clad, wild-looking, gigantic muscular black woman was standing over a prone and apparently unconcious Krotz, holding one of his legs in both of her huge hands like a chicken leg up to her face. The leg was not attached to Krotz.

“Oh shit, it’s Krotz!” said Bubble.

“It WAS Krotz, you mean,” said Shmolnick.

They had taken the buckess by surprise! Shmolnick made a mental note of the apparent fact that buckesses relax their natural radar abilities when eating. “Careful, man,” cautioned Shmolnick to his friend. “They’re really fast.”

The buckess pulled the grisly Krotz-leg from her face and held it in one hand like a club. She started to slowly advance on the two poddedwellers.

Suddenly, the buckess lept at Bubble. She was HUGE. He backed up a step and swung his cane at the buckess. “Jesus FUCK, get back!” he yelled as he felt his own adrenaline racing to power the candied fumes that now emanated in a growing sparkling cloud from the end of his cane.

The buckess screamed and landed well away from Bubble. “Muthafucka muthafucka, what you spray me wif, aaarrrrgggh!!” the buckess ranted, waving at the sparkled air that hung near her face.

Bubble held the cane up in a defensive stance. “NOW, dude,” he said to Shmolnick, who nodded, and fired the shotgun at the raving buckess.


The tranquilizer bullet struck the buckess square in the belly and she became enraged at this new assault. “Gwine KEEEL yo asses yo!” she screeched. She stood to her full height, but her knees buckled and she tried to get her balance.

Shmolnick aimed the rifle again, muttering “Let’s do it one more, once.”


This one hit the buckess in the right thigh. She was getting noticeably wobbly now, and started sniffing the air and swinging the bloody partially-eaten Krotz-leg club in the air.

“Ah smells da evil on yo li’l asses, ah smells it,” she growled. “Evil muthafuckas, evil muthafuckas,” she chanted. She turned and ran off through the trees.

Shmolnick put his shotgun back in one deft motion and said, “Well, that was fun.”

“What the fuck did you hit it with, man?” asked Bubble, moving quickly to attend to the legless Krotz.

“Elephant tranquilizer, dude. Enough to put three elephants to sleep for a week. I don’t know what’s keeping it upright.”

“Idiot. Why didn’t you just kill it?”

“Hey man, didja see those legs? I want me some of that.”

Bubble shook his head. The two bent down to look at Krotz, who miraculously was still alive and apparently stirring.

Shmolnick jerked his hand down, releasing the hidden pleasureweed pipe. “Here Krotz, take some of this, quickly.”

Bubble held Krotz’s head up and Krotz sucked weakly on the pipe. In a few seconds, he started coughing violently, clutching his chest.

“That’s right,” soothed Shmolnick, putting the pipe to Krotz’s mouth again. "Take another. The coughing’s good for you.”

Krotz sucked one more time, and a few seconds later coughed even more violently than before, sending his bloody legless body into a herky-jerky dance of pain.

Bubble leaned close to Krotz’s face. “Krotz man, what were doing out here?”

Krotz smiled weakly, already feeling a little better from the pleasureweed. “Mission, important….mission for….” he sputtered, “hizzoner…hizzoner and
brother……brother…..hoim….must work……work… center….center…”

Shmolnick and Bubble looked at each other. They shook their heads. “Is that asshole still trying spread that shit?” said Shmolnick. “Man, he has just GOT to go.”

“I agree,” said Bubble. “Think we can move Krotz? We should get him to the podde.”

“Yeah,” answered Shmolnick, looking off into the forest. “I can’t believe that thing is still moving.”

The two managed get Krotz back to the podde safely, but they were not optimistic about his chances for survival.

“Dude, what’s the plan now?”asked Bubble, settling into his easy chair in the pleasure room.

“I think it’s time we paid our good pal Hizzoner Straczny a little visit. And that so-called religious advisor of his.”

“What about the buckess. It’s still out there.”

“Oh, we’re going back out after dinner, dude.”

Bubble sat up. “What? At night? Are you nuts?”

“I don’t want to give it any time to recover from all that trank I shot into it. It’ll be weak now, and this time, we’ll kill it.”

Bubble felt a momentary twinge in his upper admomen.

Part Six: A Quiet Dawn

A bright dawn broke over the valley, the Happylanders still sleeping warmly in their beds. In fact, not a soul was stirring anywhere in Happyland village, except one.

Brother Hoim was an early riser, a habit picked up years ago under less fortunate circumstances than those in which he now found himself. Yes, Happyland was a good place to be, a good place for him. They didn’t know him here in this little backwater village, and his bad luck had finally turned. That silly mayor had been a pushover, as had been several other key citizens. They all succumbed to Brother Hoim’s powerful talk of the harmony of the flow. Harmony of the flow! Some old coot in a jail cell had been spouting that gibberish and it just stuck in Hoim’s head. When he reached Happyland, he pretended to be a preacher of sorts, and the gibberish just naturally came
to mind. These people were fools, and the good Brother Hoim happily discovered that the useless mayor was the biggest fool of them all. After that, Hoim began exerting his influence over the mayor. He, farmer’s son Hoim, would be running this village soon.

Hoim had heard of the infamous poddedwellers, who were known by reputation throughout the land, and wanted to avoid them. So far, he’d been able to. But this buckess business threatened his plans, and so he convinced Hizzoner Straczny to send poor pitiful Krotz to the poddedwellers to
ask for help. Krotz, who he’d caught going through his room. Krotz, who Hoim knew was secretly giving information to the poddedwellers. Krotz, who couldn’t be trusted.Could it be possible to eliminate Krotz AND the poddedwellers?

Brother Hoim had spent the previous evening consoling the Mayor and the boy’s family when Krotz didn’t return from his mission.

Brother Hoim washed his face and donned his familiar brown robe. A sharp scream pierced the quiet morning and startled him. He quickly ran outside and, with a handful of other sleepy villagers, ran to the source of the scream.
Down the main road to the entrance of the village, the Welcome To Happyland sign was hanging off its hook and what appeared to be a human leg, half-chewed and bloody, stuck through the middle of the sign. A young girl was standing nearby, screaming.


Two former Happylanders were awake at dawn as well. The poddedwellers Shmolnick and Bubble were just nearing the edge of the Happyland Forest, having finished a long night of fruitless buckess hunting in the depths of the dark woods.

“Man, I am tired as hell. Let’s go back, dude.” Bubble said, wiping sweat from his ruddy jowls.

“Yeah I hear you. I can’t believe we couldn’t find it. That thing has awesome camouflaging abilities.”

“You’re an idiot.” Bubble shook his head. “You’d fuck a statue.”

“Fuck you,” said Shmolnick.

“I win,” said Bubble.

Shmolnick peered through his binoculars in the direction of the village.“Something’s going on in the village, man. Take a look.” Shmolnick handed the tiny binoculars to his friend, who looked for a moment then handed them back.

“Dude, I don’t EVEN want to deal with that right now.”

“Hey man, I’m pumped. Time to deal with these clowns.” Shmolnick took his ever-present pleasureweed pipe out, filled it, and lit it up, suckly deeply. “Here…man,” he sputtered, holding in the smoke, “take…a…hit…” He handed the pipe to Bubble.

Bubble looked at the pipe for a moment then shrugged. “Ahh, what the fuck, man,” he said. And he took a large hit from the pipe.

The two made their way over the bumpy land through the tall grass that bordered Happyland. They got as far as the road that led to the village when the villagers spotted them. They were too far away to be heard, and Shmolnick and Bubble simply ignored their distant shouting.

Suddenly, out of the far edge of the forest burst the buckess, shrieking unintelligibly, beating her fists on her ample chest. Screams from the village followed.

Shmolnick and Bubble turned and looked at the furious buckess. “It’s show time,” said Shmolnick.

Bubble nodded and said, “Agreement.”

Part Seven: A Caned Creature

The Buckess Warrior stopped at the edge of the forest and began waving her arms and dancing about in a wild rage. She appeared to be raging in a circle.

“This does NOT look good, dude,” said Bubble, pulling his cane from its specially-made holster. He waved it about, just to see the sparkles.

Shmolnick saw the sparkles and nodded. “Those things are great on mushrooms, man.”

Bubble shook his head and advanced toward the buckess’s position. Shmolnick followed, pulling his shotgun out and cocking it. They quickly retraced their steps back through the tall grass and bumpy terrain, Bubble swinging his cane, spreading the multicolored candied sparkles.

As the buckess continued her strange dance, Bubble the Candyman started singing in an odd monotone.

“Who can make the sun shine? Beat you with a club. Separate your skull then go home and start to rub? The Candyman. The Candyman can.”

"Uh-oh,” said Shmolnick. “He’s in full Candyman mode.”

The buckess suddenly shrieked and her massive body began rapid contortions. The buckess gyrated for a few seconds until she fell to the ground seconds later.

“Now’s our chance, man,” urged Shmolnick, getting ready to make a run for the prone creature.

Bubble stopped and put his arm in Shmolnick’s path, saying “Oh no. This one’s MINE.”

Shmolnick knew better than to try and stop Bubble when he was in full Candyman mode. “Go for it, dude,” he said.

Bubble turned and started running up the hillside to the buckess.

“WHO CAN MAKE THE SUN SHINE?” he sang running and swinging his sparkling cane.

The buckess started to stir.

“BEAT YOU WITH A CLUB,” sang Bubble.

The buckess lifted her head and saw the cane-wielding Bubble running toward her.


The buckess tensed her powerful leg muscles and felt stronger than ever. Any second now she would pounce and surprise this little creature.

Bubble was upon the buckess now, and only too late did he realize that the creature had grown somehow. As it stood to its full eight feet of large chiseled brown muscle, Bubble quickly jabbed his cane into its belly.

“Aaarggh!” shouted the buckess, doubling over. She tried to wipe the little sparkles off her, but they clung to her muscular six-pack, infuriating her.
“Stupit li’l candy man, yo!” the buckess growled, and swung a giant fist at Bubble’s head.

Bubble tried to duck, but the blow still glanced off hisstriped helmet, stunning him. “Dude!” he called.

Shmolnick had been watching the battle from several yards away, taking a few quick tokes from his pleasureweed pipe. “Yeah, yeah I’m coming,” he said, putting away the pipe. He replaced the shotgun with a glowing net, which he had to hold with both hands. He moved toward Bubble.

“DUDE!” Bubble called, feinting with the cane. This buckess was quick. Almost too quick. Bubble shook those thoughts aside and swung the cane repeatedly at the buckess’s face. The creature brought her big hands up to guard her face, and Bubble jammed her belly again with deadly accuracy. Sparkles filled the air.

The buckess was enraged now and struck out with both hands at the smaller man. “Muthafuckin candy man!” she shouted, feeling his head caught between her hands. “Gwine SQUEEZE da evil outta yo li’l candy ass, yo! SQUEEZE!!!”

She brought her hands together slowly, and Bubble desperately tried to hit her with his cane but the pressure on his head was growing.

Shmolnick grabbed the sparkling cane out of Bubble’s groping hand and swatted the buckess on her mighty ass as hard as he could. The buckess instantly dropped Bubble’s head, dropping him to his knees, and turned to face this new attacker.

“Dude, your cane,” called Shmolnick to his friend. He threw the cane to the kneeling Bubble, who caught it easily and felt its life-giving powers restore him to full strength. He got up and started swatting the buckess with the cane anywhere he could land a blow.

Shmolnick swung the glowing net at the buckess, throwing it neatly over her head. The buckess howled as the electrified net burned.

“Jesus, this thing is tough,” panted Bubble, who continued his sparkled assault on the buckess, who now appeared finally to be weakening.

“Just keep hittin’ it, man.” Shmolnick was trying to get the net wrapped tightly around the buckess’ head, but the buckess kept slapping his hands away, each slap stinging harshly. The net continued to burn.

Bubble paused and wiped sweat from his red face. “Fuck this,” he said, and jammed the sparkling cane up between the buckess’s legs.

The buckess froze, her mouth open in mid-shout. She started trembling and swung her arms wildly around. Shmolnick and Bubble had to back up a step to avoid getting hit. The trembling buckess was now drooling and her back was gyrating back and foth.

“Holy shit, dude, I think you found its Achilles’ heel.”

“Fuck Achilles,” said Bubble. They both laughed.

The buckess seemed to dry heave once, her head lolling back, then she dropped to the ground, unconscious.

The poddedwellers approached the buckess cautiously, and Shmolnick prodded its foot with his much smaller boot. It didn’t budge.

Bubble was rubbing his bruised head. “We better cage this beast. Fast.”

“You’re right there,” agreed Shmolnick. He removed his backpack and started rummaging through it when the sound of hands clapping intruded from behind.

“Bravo, gentlemen, bravo.” Brother Hoim stopped clapping and took out his chopsticks.

Part Eight: A Spinning Chopstick

“Where the hell did YOU come from,” sneered Bubble.

“Oh yeah, and thanks for your help, dude,” chimed in Shmolnick.

Brother Hoim twirled the chopsticks in one hand, an impressive display of finger coordination. “Oh well, I abhor violence, you know. And anyway, you two gentlemen seemed to have matters well in hand.”

He approached Bubble, who had two bright red bruised on both sides of his shaven skull. “Allow me to introduce myself. I am Brother Hoim, and I am helping Happyland follow the path of the center.”

He was standing next to Bubble now, still twirling the chopsticks. He reached out to lay his free hand on Bubble’s shoulder, as if to lend a helping hand.
Bubble’s aching head instantly started to feel better, the pressure in his skull gradually receding. He closed his eyes, enjoying the pleasurable sensation quickly coursing through his body. He suddenly felt very tired.

Shmolnick leaped at Brother Hoim and knocked him away from Bubble, disconnecting the calming hand from Bubble’s shoulder, disrupting the strange sensations in Bubble’s head and body. “Get your slimy mitts off my friend, you creep,” he snarled at Brother Hoim, who turned his sloppy
lurch into a graceful tumble and roll.

Hoim stood up and brushed himself off, still holding the chopsticks. “Tsk, tsk, is that anyway to treat a healer?” he said.

Shmolnick pulled out his shotgun and aimed it at Brother Hoim’s head.

Bubble shook the cobwebs out of his head and aimed the cane at Hoim. “Man, that was weird. Felt all groggy and shit, dude.”

“I can help you both work toward the center. You too can achieve inner peace and tranquility,” offered Brother Hoim, moving toward Shmolnick, the chopsticks once again twirling hypnotically in his hand.

“You just keep your distance, pal,” warned Shmolnick, still aiming the shotgun. “Your little parlor tricks won’t help you now.”

“Little parlor tricks?” asked Hoim. “Now now, such anger. Such a lack of trust. I seek only to help you, my friends.”

Bubble said, “I don’t what you did to me, but I don’t like it.” He whipped the cane at Hoim’s head, but the barefoot con man simply ducked to one side.

“Hm, I had hoped that we could come to some agreement, but apparently that is not to be. Too bad. I could have used you two.” Hoim’s chopstick twirling now reached a feverish pace, the air around it now seeming to spin. With he free hand, he reached inside his wrinkled brown robe and pulled out an oddly-shaped lime green stone, which he’d been wearing on a simple leather necklace.

The buckess jumped up suddenly and, ignoring the burning of the electrified net over her head, reached for both Bubble and Shmolnick. The creature moved so quickly, and Hoim’s chopsticks were distracting the poddedwellers, so they had no time to react. Both men found their necks
trapped inside the buckess’s powerful arms, which began to squeeze. The cane dropped harmlessly to the ground.

Bubble and Shmolnick struggled, but the buckess had a firm grip on both of them. “You bastard, it was you that sent poor Krotz out, wasn’t it?” accused the sputtering Shmolnick.

“Ahh yes, Krotz. He is dead, isn’t he?” He gazed at the two men. “No, I can see from your expressions that he is not. How unfortunate.” Hoim rubbed his chin in contemplation for a moment, watching the men struggle uselessly against their muscular bonds.

“Alright Shamiqua, be careful. Remember what I told you?”

The buckess growled and looked down at her two struggling captives. She lifted both arms up, pulling the poddedwellers off the ground. Their faces were turning bright red.

“Whens do ah git to squeeze da evil outta dey haids?”

“Soon enough, my dear. Just put them to sleep.”

The buckess smiled, and flexed both arms mightily. Shmolnick and Bubble tried to get loose, but in seconds, their eyes began to roll up into their heads.

Hoim picked up the cane, which had stopped emitting sparkles. “Interesting artifact you have here, Bubble is it?” He felt the smoothness of the cane up and down its shaft.

“Mother…..fucker,” croaked Bubble. Then the two men were unconscious. The buckess held onto her prizes, though. Best not anger the man.

“Good girl, Shamiqua. Now bring them to the cave and tie them up. Don’t hurt them though, we’ll save that for later. I’ll be there soon.”

“Yessa,” said the buckess. And she turned and ran back into the forest, still clutching the two sleeping poddedwellers.

Hoim tucked the cane into his simple brown belt. “I think this will come in handy,” he said, and turned back toward the village. Laughing, he practically skipped back to the growing crowd of anxious villagers.

Part Nine: A Conquering Hero

Krotz lay in the hospital bed in the podde’s infirmary. He didn’t know what time it was, or how much time had passed since his encounter with that awful beast. A beautiful amazon woman and a heavyset tall woman, both apparently nurses, were moving about the room, chatting to each other.

“Oh look Melody, our little patient is finally awake,” the amazon said to the heavyset nurse.

“Eww, somebody needs a sponge bath, Harmony” sung the heavyset nurse. She leaned over the sweating Krotz and wiped his forehead. “And are we feeling a little better this morning honey?”
she asked her patient.

“Where am I?” asked Krotz. Suddenly he knew that he no longer had legs, and panic started to sink in. He started to thrash about on the bed, moaning, “My legs, where are my legs?”

Harmony the amazon easily held him down while Melody the bbw stroked his face. He started to calm down, feeling strangely better.

“Our masters, Bubble and Shmolnick brought you here. You were mauled by the horrid creature. They saved your life, honey,” said the amazon.

“Yes, if not for them, you’d be buckessfood by now,” added Melody.

Krotz thought. Aside from the shock of discovering that he had no legs, he felt fine. Refreshed, even. The poddedwellers had used their evil magic on him somehow to cure him quickly. But no legs! What was he to do? What would happen to him now?

As if reading his thoughts, the bbw patted his cheek and said, “Don’t you worry about it, honey. The masters will fix you up as soon as they’re home. They went out buckess hunting last night.”

Now he remembered. The Mayor and Brother Hoim had practically begged him to go on the fateful mission. Away from the influence of Brother Hoim’s mystical powers, his head was finally clear. A trap! Hoim had set up a trap, intending to catch both he Krotz and the poddedwellers. He had to do
something. He had to try to warn the poddedwellers somehow.

The amazon screwed her face up like a petulant little girl. “Now now, don’t go getting any funny ideas, honey. We’re under strict orders to take care of you here in the podde.”

“I- I have to go, warn Bubble and Shmolnick. Hoim set a trap for them, they’re in danger.” Krotz started to raise himself up in his bed.

The bbw held him down. “Now wait a minute, little guy, you’re not going anywhere.”

“You don’t understand,” argued Krotz. “They’re in danger. I have to warn them!”

The two women looked at each other. Harmony the amazon looked at Krotz. “Are you SURE they’re in danger?”

Krotz nodded his head, yes yes. “We have to help them! You have to get me up.”

The nurses exchanged concerned looks again. “Alright, we’ll put you in a wheelchair,” said the amazon. “But first, wait here. We’ll check on the masters.”

They left the hospital room and went to the podde’s control room. There, a bank of sophisticated computer and surveillance equipment hummed quietly in the background, various video images of different locations and glowing radar screens giving the room a green tint. The amazon touched some buttons on the radar screen and frowned.

“Melody, I think that poor little man is right, look at this. I’m not picking up any readings from the masters.”

Melody looked at the radar screen. Where there should have been two blips, there were now none. “Oh dear. This doesn’t look good, does it?”


Brother Hoim stood on the podium in the village center before the growing crowd of murmuring villagers. A tired Mayor Strascny stood beside him, wiping the sleep from his eyes.

“People of Happyland, hear me!” shouted Brother Hoim over the din. “I have good news!” He waited for the crowd to hush.

“The poddedwellers have been defeated in battle by the buckess and the creature has carried them off.”

The crowd didn’t cheer as he had hoped, but the murmuring began anew.

“I have witnessed this thing myself! The evil of the poddedwellers ignored the power of the flow, they were in DISHARMONY!!!”

“What happened to them?” someone yelled. “Are they dead?” shouted another.

Hoim put his hands up to quiet the crowd. Hizzoner Straczny also helped to shout other questioners down. Finally, quiet filled the village center once again.

“Furthermore I was able to establish peaceful contact with the buckess. The poor simple creature has succumbed to the power of the harmony of the flow!”

One of the town elders near the front of the crowd called out, “Brother, can this be true?”

“Yes, it is true. The buckess is now under my, er, our control. All it needed was a gentle touch and calm reassuring voice. The beast was frightened, that’s all. I promise you that it will not harm this village again.”

People started nodding in agreement, yes, that makes perfect sense.

"Brother Hoim has saved us!” somebody yelled. “Three cheers for Brother Hoim!” called out another.

“HIP HIP! HOORAY!” cheered the crowd. Brother Hoim smiled at the public outpouring of appreciation for his heroism.

When the cheering died down, Brother Hoim raised his arms once again and spoke in a more serious tone. “But remember, good citizens of Happyland, that the good is balanced with the bad, for the harmony of the flow. And I have sad tidings to report, I’m afraid.”

He paused for a moment for effect. Such simple fools, he thought. “I am saddened to report that poor Krotz was indeed killed, not by the buckess but by the poddedwellers themselves!”

A shocked hum rippled through the crowd.

“And more horrible than that is the betrayal of one of our own leading Happylanders.”

“Who’s the traitor, Brother?” someone called.

Hoim’s eyes narrowed and he swiveled quickly to point an accusing finger at Mayor Straczny.

“It was YOU, good mayor, that sent poor young Krotz to his doom. It was YOU who struck a deal with the poddedwellers to exchange Krotz’s life for your own with those two enemies.”

Straczny’s eyes bulged and his face grew red. “Brother Hoim, I never-“

“SILENCE TRAITOR!” shouted Hoim.

The people in the crowd were confused, but some were already shouting angry curses at the accused mayor, who was already looking around for an exit. Two large village men jumped to the podium and blocked Straczny’s path.

“Good people, I implore you!” begged Hizzoner. “Brother Hoim, why are you doing this to me?” he asked Hoim.

“Why Brother Straczny, because I can.” Hoim raised his voice to the crowd. “We must lock the traitor up for trial, I say.”

“LOCK ‘EM UP!” somebody shouted. “Feed ‘em to the buckess!” “String him up!”

Hoim nodded. Yes, how predictable. How quickly these people had turned against their “beloved” mayor. With Straczny out of the way, the village was now his. He turned to the two bruisers standing next to the podium. “You too, consider yourselves deputized. Take the prisoner to the jail and lock him up good.”

The two grunted and roughly grabbed the mayor, who was still insisting on his innocence. “BROTHER HOIM FOR MAYOR!” called a woman from the back of the crowd.

The crowd took up the cheer, much to Brother Hoim’s delight.

Part Ten: A Cavernous Emergency

Deep in the Happyland forest, the buckess warrior sat in the shadowy entrance to an otherwise unremarkable cave. The cave entrance was itself well hidden in the thick of the forest, a natural defensive advantage that had led Brother Hoim to select this cave for his nefarious purposes.

The buckess crouched defensively, her broad visage expressionless as she watched the woods around her grow dark with the setting sun. The evil ones were now her captives, tied securely inside the cave, but just the same, the buckess felt safer at the mouth of the cave. “Bes’ not temp’ evil,” the buckess thought. Soon the master would return. Hoim had promised the creature that he’d be back after nightfall. So the buckess waited.

Inside the cave, which was lit by a crude row of torches on both sides, the poddedwellers Shmolnick and Bubble were indeed tied securely. They both woke up with groggy heads to discover themselves tied spreadeagle to the rear wall of the cave, wrists and ankles roped to thick hooks hammered into the stone.

Bubble and Shmolnick looked at each other. “Dude, this sucks,” said Bubble.

“Not to worry, old chum,” said Shmolnick, who didn’t seem upset at their present situation. “I have a plan to get us free.”

Bubble frowned and sighed. “What is it?” he asked.

“Okay, you’ll love this. Remember that emergency switch I made a couple of years ago?”

“Yeah,” replied Bubble.

“Well, I finally worked out the bugs and installed it.” Shmolnick grinned.

“So, where did you install it?”

“In the front of the waistband of my stylish underwear,” said Shmolnick. The ones that I’m wearing right now.

“Dude,” said Bubble, “how are you going to activate it?”

“There’s only one way. With my dick.” Shmolnick closed his eyes.

A look of horror crossed Bubble’s face. “Dude no, don’t do it.”

“It’s the only way, man, said Shmolnick. “Now hold whilst I get Jimmy hard with fantasies of that buckess.“

Bubble rolled his eyes, and suddenly thought of his stolen cane. The anger began to build up inside him, and it quickly turned to rage. Bubble started breathing hard, the rage consumed him. His cane had been stolen. “That is simply unacceptable!” he said angrily, not aware that he had spoken this
last thought aloud.

The sparkles came slowly from deep inside Bubble’s raging mind. They multiplied and filled his consciousness. His eyes glazed over and his body started glowing, the multicolored candied fumes surrounding him, giving him strength.

“THAT…IS…SIMPLY…” he grunted, straining at the straps that held his wrists and ankles captive.

“UNACCEPTABLE!” he shouted and made an intense effort, closing his eyes. Suddenly all four hooks burst free of the cave wall, sending pebbles flying.

“Excellent,” said Shmolnick. “Now hurry up and free me before the buckess gets back.”

Bubble shook his head, trying to clear the odd fuzziness from his brain. He looked at his friend and said, “Dude, what just happened?”

“My emergency switch!” answered Shmolnick proudly, as Bubble began untying his fellow poddedweller. “I started thinking about that buckess, and the resulting erection activated the emergency switch in the waistband of my underwear.”

He hopped away from the wall, free of the restraints finally, and dusted himself off. “The switch emits a signal audible only to you. And the
frequency of that signal triggers the candyman. Turbocharged.”

Bubble pointed to a pile of clothes in the corner. “Dude, I’m getting dressed.”

Shmolnick nodded his agreement, and the two quickly put their clothes back on.

The buckess cocked her head at the sudden noise from inside the cave. She pivoted her body to face into the cave, but still crouched, wary. “Muthafuckin evil,” she mumbled. She suddenly heard a loud humming sound from the cave. “Damn!” The buckess stood up, and started into the cave.

“GOTSA END DA EVIL!!” shouted the buckess as she ran into the cave.

“Oh shit,” said Shmolnick. He quickly assumed a defensive stance, as did Bubble.

“Dude, we gotta try to get-,” Bubble started to say, but the buckess had slammed one giant arm against him, throwing him off his feet. “OOF,” he said, hitting the hard ground.”

Shmolnick threw a karate kick at the creature’s back and the buckess turned to face him, growling. She grabbed him, but Shmolnick ducked under her grasp and kicked his boot directly between her legs.

“ULP,” grunted the buckess and she backed off, clutching her private region.
Bubble was already up and moving around the wounded creature. “C’mon man, let’s go.”

Shmolnick hurried around the buckess, and the two were nearly free of her reach when they both felt a powerful hand grip one of their ankles. The buckess lay on her stomach, holding the poddedwellers by their ankles. She slowly got up. “I gots you now, evil muthafuckas.”

Standing up, she pulled Shmolnick and Bubble up by the ankles until they were both hanging upside down. Bubble felt the blood rush to his head, and started to get dizzy. They both struggled vainly to get free.

The buckess threw her head back and laughed. “Gwine hoit yo’ evil muthafuckin’ asses now, yo,” she taunted, shaking the two upside-down poddedwellers.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUGGGGGGGGHHHHH!!!!!!!” Krotz burst into the cave sitting in a harness on the back of the Harmony the amazon, followed by Melody the big beautiful woman.


The buckess looked up in surprise for a moment, then the shotgun blast exploded her head into a hundred bloody pieces.

Shmolnick and Bubble dropped to the ground painfully. The headless body of the buckess quivered momentarily, then toppled to the ground like a felled tree.

“Gee, you guys okay?” Krotz asked, handing the shotgun to Harmony.
Melody screwed her face up in concern. “Oh my, you dropped off the radar and we got awfully worried.”

“Good girls,” said Shmolnick. “Krotz, how are you feeling?”

Krotz shrugged his shoulders. “Eh, I can still feel my legs, but it doesn’t hurt anymore. These ladies are great nurses!” He put his hand on Harmony’s broad shoulder and she looked up and him smiling.

“Oh thank you Mister Krotz,” said both large ladies, blushing.

Bubble and Shmolnick looked at each other with arched eyebrows. “You girls should get Krotz back to the pod. I’m going to get my cane.” He kicked at the dead buckess. “Nicely done, Krotz.”

“Yes, nicely done, Krotz,” said Brother Hoim, who now stood blocking the exit. The brown-robed man held Bubble’s glowing cane in his hand and oddly-shaped lime green stone glowed on its leather necklace.

Part Eleven: A Furious Finale

The two large ladies, one with Krotz in tow, froze in their tracks. Shmolnick and Bubble stood their ground.

“It’s all over, Hoim. Your game is finished,” said Shmolnick.

“Oh, I think not, poddedweller. My game has just begun.” Hoim aimed the sparkling cane at Shmolnick and prepared to fire a blast of candied fumes at him. Then in the last instance, Hoim swiveled the cane toward Krotz, who looked on in horror as a blast of poisoned candied fumes engulfed him and Harmony the amazon in sparkles.

“Krotz!” shouted Bubble.

“Harmony!” shouted Shmolnick, who ran to the dazed amazon. Krotz lay unconscious in the corner.

“Ha-hah! Two for the price of one!” said Hoim gleefully. He fired a blast at Bubble, who jumped aside to avoid the blow, which instead struck the headless buckess corpse, momentarily bathing it in sparkles.

Melody ran over to help her master Bubble get up, and Hoim fired a blast at the bbw, knocking her beautiful bulk against the cave wall. She slumped to the ground, her eyes vacant.

“You’ll pay for that you bastard,” vowed Bubble.

“Harmony NOW!” yelled Shmolnick. The amazon clamped a long-nailed hand onto Brother Hoim’s shoulder, surprising him momentarily.

“Oh no you don’t dearie,” said Hoim, who whipped the cane around in a blur and struck the amazon hard in her side. Sparkles wavered around the point of impact then quickly spread to surround her entire body, which was now twitching uncontrollably.

Hoim pointed the deadly cane at Shmolnick. “Restrain him!” he commanded.

The amazon looked at Hoim, a strange green glow in her eyes. “Yes master.” She stalked Shmolnick.

“Shit. Harmony, oh Harmony, snap out of it, baby. This is Shmolnick, your master, C’mon Harmony,” he babbled.

The amazon wrapped her muscular arm around Shmolnick’s neck and squeezed. He struggled to get free. “Urk, gurgle,” he groaned, kicking his legs and flailing his arms fruitlessly.

Hoim now aimed the cane at Bubble, whose rage was building up inside, threatening to bring him to the boiling point. “This cane of yours is quite interesting, poddedweller. Combined with the power of the buckstone, it will give me all the power I need.”

“Buckstone? That green amulet you wear. Now I get it.”

Hoim laughed. “Too late for you, eh?” He fired a blast at Bubble, who flew back against the cave wall and collapsed in heap. He groaned and slowly tried to get up.

“Yes, I stumbled upon it a while back in my travels and took it from that buckess. The stone let me control the buckess and exert mental influence over others.”

‘Fuck you,” croaked Shmolnick, still held captive by the amazon.

“Tsk tsk,” said Hoim. It’s too bad I have to kill you both. You might have been useful to me.”

“Give me my fucking cane. NOW.” Bubble’s eyes narrowed. He felt the rage within fill him up. He let it overflow and felt new strength.

“Oh will you stop your yammering?” sneered Brother Hoim, and fired another blast at Bubble.

This time, however, the blast was absorbed by the poddedweller, who stretched his arms out and smiled. “Who can make the sunshine?” he sang.

“Get back you fool. I’ll put it on full power!” Hoim backed away, seeing that the previous blast had simply seemed to make the poddedweller stronger.

Hoim’s control over the amazon wavered as his attention focused elsewhere. Her grip on Shmolnick lessened, and he was able to squirm free and twirl, then jam his index finger into the amazon’s neck. She dropped to the ground.

“Sorry Harmony,” said Shmolnick.

“I can still kill YOU!” shouted Brother Hoim. He whipped around fired a blast at Shmolnick, but Bubble, the turbocharged candyman, intercepted the blast with his body and the sparkling glow around him brightened.

“Crush your fucking head,” sang Bubble, who now stalked Hoim.

Hoim backed away from the candied poddedweller, firing blasts from the cane at will. None of the shots had any effect on Bubble. He closed the distance and grabbed end of the cane, covering the end of it with his hand.
“NO!” shouted Hoim, who tore the glowing green stone from his necklace and touched it to the cane.

“Bubble, watch out!” yelled Shmolnick.

The entrance to the cave exploded in green light and multicolored sparkles. The force of the explosion sent Shmolnick crashing to the ground. The sparkles gradually started to clear, and Shmolnick slowly got to his feet.
Bubble lay on his back near the cave entrance, the cane clutched in both of his hands. The brown robes of Brother Hoim lay in the cave entrance, with Hoim’s feet in the cave. Shmolnick edged toward Hoim and saw that Hoim’s body had been cut in half, the top half no longer attached.

“That had to hurt,” said Shmolnick. Behind him, Bubble stirred.

“Dude,” he moaned.

Shmolnick helped his friend to his feet. “You okay, man?” he asked him.

“I think so. What about Hoim?”

“Take a look for yourself, man. Pretty gruesome.”

Bubble peered through the cave entrance and quickly stepped back in. “Jesus, I don’t want look at that shit.”

Shmolnick laughed.

They both turned to the back of the cave when a humming sound began.
“What now?” said Shmolnick.

The humming grew until it became a trumpet blast – BA-BA-BAH! – The air shimmered and two men materialized. One was slightly overweight and bald, and was dressed as Robin Hood. The other wore a tuxedo and a red cape.
“Oh its YOU guys,” said Shmolnick, relieved. “Dude, you know my brothers, the Rangers?”

“Yeah, hiya doin’?” greeted Bubble.

“Yo bro,” said Robin Hood, who was the Mutha, Shmolnick’s elder brother.

“Greetings and salutations, Shmolnick,” said the Devil. “You seem to have matters well in hand.”

“Yeah. What’s up?” Shmolnick asked.

The Devil paced around the cave, inspecting the bodies. He stopped at Krotz’ prone form. “This one’s dead. He a friend of yours?”

“Krotz, yeah. He helped us. He killed the buckess.”

Mutha looked at the Devil suddenly. “The buckess. Where’d her head go?” he asked the poddedwellers.

“Krotz blew it up.” said Bubble.

Mutha went over to Hoim’s body and knelt down to inspect it. He abruptly got up and came back into the cave. “Here it is,” he said to the Devil, holding up the oddly-shaped lime green stone, which had been broken into a smaller piece.

“Excellent,” said the Devil.

“What?” asked Shmolnick.

“The Buckstone,” replied Mutha. “The Elderbucks hired us to find the man who stole the buckstone and return it and the buckess to them in Buck City.” He looked down at the dead buckess, "Looks like we're batting 500 on this one."

“Sorry to be rude, but we have to get this back to the Elderbucks.” The Devil took a step back and Mutha joined him.

“Later, Bro,” said Mutha.

“Later,” said Shmolnick and Bubble.

The air shimmered and the trumpet blasted its BA-BA-BAH! and the Rangers were gone.

“Let’s get this mess cleaned up and get the girls back to the podde,” said Shmolnick.

“Groan!” said Bubble.


A fog lifted from the minds of the Happyland villagers in the days that followed. Hizzoner Mayor Straczny was so grateful to the poddedwellers that he rescinded their banishment and Shmolnick and Bubble were cheered and hailed as heroes.

The poddedwellers thanked the Mayor and the people and returned to their podde later in the day.

Sitting in the Pleasure Room, they enjoyed their usual therapy of amazons, bbws, pleasureweed, happy juice, and music and reflected on recent events.
“Dude, it’s good to be home.” Bubble swallowed a shot of happy juice.

“It sure is, man,” said Shmolnick. He puffed on the pleasureweed pipe and stroked Harmony’s blonde hair as she attended to him orally. “Let’s hope it’s stays quiet for a while.”

“Agreement,” said Bubble.


A pair of black-gloved hands lifted the grisly remains from the damp ground. Another pair of black-gloved hands opened the lid of a large chest, and the top half of Brother Hoim’s body was dropped into the chest with a thud.

“Hey be careful with that,” the other said.

“Don’t worry, he’s dead, ain’t he?”

The two black-clad figures lifted the chest onto the steel platform that had appeared out of nowhere in this darkest part of Happyland forest. The platform shimmered, then disappeared.


2006 Michael S. Cohen

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