Chain Story 2: Electric Boogaloo

Let's see if we can keep this one going

"Dear John,"

John read.

" I have always wanted to begin a letter that way..."

John rolled his eyes and continued.

"... so thank you for the opportunity. While our two weeks together has been blissful, I feel it is time for me to move on. I won't lie, it's you. It's not me. When you first told me you had a diaper fetish, I thought you were kidding, but when I came home last night and you requested that I change yours, I have to admit I was profoundly disturbed. I was even more disturbed by the contents of the diaper. The ...

Booglaoo 2, con't

...fact that you forced me to watch nothing but CSPAN for an entire week while you sat there with the remote control dusted with powder and nestled between your cheeks is unforgivable. It's over John. By the time you will have found this letter carved into the dashboard of your car, I will already be..."

on my way to Mother's. Don't try to contact me or follow me. I'm asking you nicely. And you know Mother won't be as polite, being a very large volatile man in a biker gang. It would behoove you to move on and find someone else with whom to practice your wide repertiore of strange fantasies. I cannot imagine that you will be able to find another who will be willing to dance the hokey pokey naked on the roof with you, and pick your dirty socks up off of the bathroom floor without complaining. Well, enough said. There's not enough room on the dashboard to get into it all, and I am sure you get the gist. "

One of Many That Got Away,

Reva

PS: I forgot to mention...

Boogaloo

...that we're out of milk."

John frowned as he considered this. The letter on the dashboard was definitely Reva's work, as the carvings were exquisite in quality and written in a san serif font. But as John was pathologically and violently lactose intolerant, being out of milk was status quo for the small apartment the two of them shared (until this point) atop the pet store they co-owned. Shrugging, he turned the key and killed the engine of the 1982 Datsun B-210. There would be no pet food deliveries today.

Walking back into the pet store, he disturbed two rabbits who clearly had thought that they had the store to themselves for the morning. They scampered to opposite sides of their warren, sending cedar chips flying, and attempted to act casual and distracted. John paused at the counter, his hand on the phone, then plunged his hand into his jeans (and his diaper) to retrieve a small black address book. He dialed the phone.

"Hello. May I speak to Mother?", John spoke, his voice quavering. "This is his brother, John."

The person on the other end of the line exhaled loudly. "Dude," the anonymous male voice coughed, "Mother's a little a busy right now."

John heard the loud thud of footsteps on uncarpeted wooden stairs and Reva's giggle. Mother never was the kind of guy to fuss with comfort, and the house was very plain. John knew this because Reva had helped paint, and added her stylish Bickley script to the biker's graffiti on the walls. He'd been pleased at the time, that she got along so well with his brother, Mother. In hindsight, he felt he should have seen the growing attraction between them. (Mother's growing 'attraction' was particularly difficult to miss.)

Hanging the phone up abruptly, John could not help picturing the two of them together on Mother's bed, which he'd helped build out of milk crates, even though it had given him a terrible rash. John paced, his anger increasing with each crinkle of the diaper when...

...his anger increasing with each crinkle of the diaper when he started hearing loud banging noises coming from the apartment upstairs. When he looked up he saw a crack in the ceiling. With each bang the crack grew longer and wider. "Assholes" he muttered to himself while searching for his pants. "Don't make me come up there!" he shouted towards the ceiling. The banging just kept getting louder and louder.

"That's it," John thought to himself, "pants or no pants, I'm going up there." As John reached for the door knob a terrible crashing noise came from the living room. As he rushed towards the noise he tripped on a milk crate. As the dust began to settle, he could just make out Mother's massive bulk. But instead of wearing the normal biker gear, Mother was...

As the dust began to settle, he could just make out Mother's massive bulk. But instead of wearing the normal biker gear, Mother was dressed in a tutu and protective skateboarding gear, and weilding a sledehammer.

Seeing John standing there in his diaper, Mother blushed a tutu matching hue. "I'm sorry, John, I wouldn't do this here except that Reva won't let me do it in the house. You understand."

John nodded. "Understood, but Mother, what exactly are you doing. I understand the tutu, but what's with the helmet, the kneepads, the sledgehammer?"

"You know my biker bud, Skanky? Well, he asked me to....

"You know my biker bud, Skanky? Well, he asked me to come by and take a look at his pipes."

"Yeah, but that still doesn't explain the helmet, the kneepads, or the sledgehammer."

"I'm getting there, hold on. You of all people should know why I'm wearing the knee pads. Don't you remember how sensitive my knees are?"

(smirking) "Yeah, I remember. What about the rest of the get up?"

"Well the tutu -" Mother began, shaking her pink ruffled ass in John's direction, "the tutu was a gift from you. It's one of my favorite things to wear - that is when Reva's not home. She just doesn't get it."

"I know. Do you remember the time...

Well the tutu -" Mother began, shaking her pink ruffled ass in John's direction, "the tutu was a gift from you. It's one of my favorite things to wear - that is when Reva's not home. She just doesn't get it."

"I know. Do you remember the time Reva caught us dancing around in Aunt Zelda's old underwear? "

Mother blinked. "No."

"Oh wait. Maybe that was just me. Or what about when she caught us playing stampede with My Little Ponies?"

Mother pirouetted. "No dude. "

Mother sashayed over to the window to look outside as he was getting bored with the conversation.

John spotted the pipes that Mother was supposed to be looking at. They were lying disconnected on top of a newspaper, gleaming like they were brand new. He wasn't sure how he missed them earlier. He scratched the back of his thigh below the diaper line then sniffed his finger. Suddenly, John had an idea.

Casually he picked up a length of pipe.

"What about that time with the guinea pige?"

Mother smiled. "Okay, that was me."

John's diaper crinkled out a warning as he approached his tutu clad brother. "I loved that guinea pig, " he said as he raised the length of pipe.....

John's diaper crinkled out a warning as he approached his tutu clad brother. "I loved that guinea pig, " he said as he raised the length of pipe high above his head. That was the last thing John remembered happening before waking up naked and hog tied to a pole in the middle of a corn field.

"Hello?" John squeaked out, "Is anybody out there?"

A cool breeze began to blow through the field sending shivers across his bare skin. Above him the sky was turning from a pale blue to a coral spiked pink. It'll be dark soon, John thought to himself. I have to get off this pole.

"Mother! Are you out there?" John yelled above the rustling corn. "I'm sorry Mother! I wasn't trying to play 'hide the pipe' with you! Especially without your permission! Mother!"

John yelled until his throat was sore and the field was almost completely dark. He could barely make out the outline of the corn. If it wasn't for the last rays of the sun desperately clinging onto the horizon, John would've been in complete darkness. A few more minutes and all would be dark. His pulse began to quicken. A thin film of sweat formed on his skin. Infused by the terror of what could happen in the dark when tied to a pole in the middle of a corn field, John resumed his struggle out of the ropes. But his efforts to be free before nightfall were in vain. The darkeness did come and with it came...

A thin film of sweat formed on his skin. Infused by the terror of what could happen in the dark when tied to a pole in the middle of a corn field, John resumed his struggle out of the ropes. But his efforts to be free before nightfall were in vain. The darkeness did come and with it came a horde of diaperless zombie babies, whining and pooping into the dark night.

They wanted the diapers that John had stolen, and they wanted them immediately. Fortunately, because of the slick mess the infants of the undead were forced to trod upon as a result of being diaperless, they did not advance quickly. So John had time to think of a plan.....

So John had time to think of a plan....perhaps the last plan he'd ever use. Out of habit he began softly singing one of his favorite songs while trying to think up a plan. ("Someday we'll find it...") The song always gave him comfort when things got hard. ("...the rainbow connection....") Reva always hated the song. ("...the lovers...") In fact, this is all her fault. John thought to himself. ("...the dreamers...") He would've never met Mother without Reva. ("...and me...") John looked up to see how much progress the zombie babies were making. But when he looked up, instead of advancing, all of the drooling and oozing zombie babies were...

**** BAD PUN ALERT!




pointing and laughing at a poor hapless fat lady who had thought to stop at the side of the road, and go relieve herself unobserved in the corn stalks. It was also possible that what they were laughing at had nothing to do with their delight at allthings scatalogical, but at the idiocy of running out into a corn field in the middle of the night, alone, and with no flashlight.

As the woman grunted out a large turd, one of the zombie babies took a big chunk of flesh out of her generous rump. She yowled and tured to run, but her girth slowed her down to a zombie's pace, which was why the zombie babies were able to get her in the end.

As for John, well, he was hoarse from screaming already and watched dumbly, struggling against the ropes. It felt impossible. then a rather large, prehistoric looking bird landed on him.

It spoke with a thick british accent. "Listen you bloody bastard, I have no use for diaper fetishits, or humans, but you are needed by...."

"...Dr Kevorkian he is looking a tad bit grey lately and needs someone to spice up his life. The misses dumped him for my brother. He is a lovely pterodactyl but as for me, well, mum did a bit of philandering with a herd of pixies and then I came along, a pixie-dactyl. John you are the only one who can bring love and happiness to such a dour old man. You won’t have to do much such a little Peter Pan role playing and spanking the Fairy dust out of him. Alternate lifestyles are his last hope of love..."


(FYI: diapers are called nappies in England.)
_________________
I feel the same way about disco as I do about herpes. -HST

"Alternate lifestyles are his last hope of love so put your nappies on and let's go."

"Um Mr. Pixie-dactyl? I'm kind of tied up."

"Right then. Off we go."

John watched in a state of confused amusement as the Pixie-dactyl took off. What John didn't know was that while he could understand the Pixie-dactly, it couldn't understand him. Still tied to the damn pole, John continued his struggle against the rope all the while keeping an eye on the flesh eating babies who kept on...