Super-Special Number 01 - The Great Smashing Hollow Ween Pumpkins
In some parts of the world, most particularly the United States of A, there is a holiday called Halloween where children dress up in various costumes on the evening of October 31st. In their new guises, they set out with their sacks or plastic pails into the neighborhood going door-to-door, knocking on them, and then say to the owner of the house "Trick or Treat". The owner would then smile at the cute children in their cute costumes and then place a few pieces of candy in their sacks or pails. The process repeats until the children get tired of going door to door or when then their accompanying parents call them back.
Halloween is not just about going door to door and asking for candy. It is also a party celebration where people dress up in costumes to socialize and sometimes play games.
Halloween is the perfect day to cross-dress and no one will ridicule you for doing so--at least for the men, that is. Halloween is also perfect for getting drunk, and it is also the candy manufacturers' most profitable day. Apparently, dentists do not love Halloween, but they certainly love the day after it.
Bustling best described Red's General Store. Though small, it was an extremely popular stop for tourists and city dwellers visiting from Nashville. There were many points for its popularity.
The first point was the food. A pretty Pakistani woman lent her exotic touch to her cooking of all-American food items such as pancakes, hamburgers, and most importantly cornbread in the tiny indoor cafe. There was a legend that the cornbread contains an addictive aphrodisiac that for some reason makes husbands effeminate yet good with their wives in bed. Conversely, that same aphrodisiac makes wives domineering and good with their husbands in bed. Of course, the sexually frustrated married couples could always buy the exotic aphrodisiacs behind the pharmaceutical counter or on aisle three next to the greeting cards.
The second point was the audio CD duplicator kiosk tucked away in the corner between the café and freezer aisle. The kiosk also doubled as a computer connected to the Internet through a T1 line. Due to the appearance of an Internet program called Napster, people had been flocking to Red's in droves. Oddly enough, this did not put Ted's record shop across the street out of business. Thanks to Napster, he saw increased sales of CDs that would have never otherwise been sold.
The third point was the eclectic selection of exotic, contraband, and quasi-illegal substances. Red's general store sold unique items imported from all over the world, such as Pocky and jars of shark testicles as an herbal remedy. The more risky and risqué items can only be bought at the checkout counter. The cashier was a shifty tomboyish girl with short dark hair and glasses who can get you anything from hallucinogenic cannabis, P-Scratcher, and limited edition Gundam model kits. Cash, gold, or platinum was the only accepted legal tender. Bring lots of it if you plan on buying contraband items.
The fourth point was the magazine racks. Though small, its selection dwarfs that of Barnes and Noble, Borders, or the Adult video store that was a couple blocks away. It had magazines for all types of gays, geeks, freaks, and fundamentalist religious nuts everywhere. People will come to Red's to read up on the latest articles and gossip on various topics, such as Yaoi[i], ASCII art, and weapons of mass destruction. Despite the conflicting backgrounds of these magazine readers, Red's General Store had inadvertently become the most neutral and peaceful location in the entire world.
The last, and most important point is the owner whose name graces the general store. Have you not seen her yet? Shame on you. Shame. Shame. Shame. She was the cutest owner to ever grace the heartland of North America. Red Little herself dedicated the entirety of the store hours standing in the front dressed in her cute Catholic schoolgirl uniform greeting each customer with a smile as she happily swept her little broom. One look at her and you could not help but go inside her general store. Even if you were just browsing, you would certainly leave with an item you never expected to find in a backwater town, yet wanted for all your life.
The store had been through rough, yet strange times. There were days when they were threatened with numerous closures from fundamentalist or outright insane religious groups and the Soccer Mom Syndicate. The wise yet drunk store manager, Becky Wolfe, appeased these groups' anger in various ways. Becky gave the complaining Christians a box of Jesus' Holy Feces. To the Jews, Becky gave each of them a brick of the original Temple of Jerusalem and scalped tickets to the sold-out Fiddler on the Roof playing on Broadway. Of the religious groups, the Muslims were difficult to appease, but Becky somehow managed them to shut them up by giving each of them Barbara Streisand tickets, which she was desperate to get rid of.
And what did she do to the members of the Soccer Mom Syndicate? Becky invited her friend Kitty Muffet (A.K.A., the Muffin Woman) to perform Holistic Cunnilingus on all of the members. Since that time, Becky never heard from the SMS ever again, although Kitty often complained that the SMS constantly begged her to attend their children's soccer games.
On some days, the store would close because Becky and the girls were off doing their other "business." Most of the time, the closures occurred because one or all of the girls didn't feel like working. The reasons for it range from drunkenness, being stoned, too tired, or having sex. To show concern for their loyal customers, they would always report such reasons on a handwritten sign taped on the front entrance.
Never once did Red's General Store succumb to a financial crisis. That was, until one day in late October...
The store was nearing closing time. Actually, closing time was supposed to be a couple of hours ago, but the girls never bothered to adhere to the store hours posted in the front window. The time was 11 o'clock by the way, and there were only two customers left.
Ginger became tired of waiting for the two horny teenager boys staring at the adult magazines at the magazine rack. So she picks up one of her spent plastic Coca-Cola bottles and chucked them to their heads.
"Are you two fags gonna buy that?" Ginger yelled. "I haven't got all night!"
"You know our moms," said one of the boys.
"Like I give a flying fuck. Just buy one of my fake magazine covers and you're covered."
"But they're too expensive," said the other boy.
"Being cheap and horny is not a good combination." Ginger turned her head and yelled, "SIS!"
There was a loud crash and rustle in the manager's office. Becky Wolfe slumbered out dazed and confused. Her breath obviously smelled of alcohol.
Ginger grabbed Becky's Shinseiki Katana from underneath the counter and puts it in her hand.
"Kill them!" Ginger ordered. "Kill them now!"
Scared for their lives, the two boys dropped the magazines, peed in their pants, and then ran screaming out of the store and past Red Little who is happily sweeping her broom in an endless fashion.
"Thanks for shopping!" greeted Red. "Please come back again!"
Back inside, Becky scratched one of her two wolf ears as she wonders what was going on. Slowly but surely, she grasped the situation that once again Ginger used her to scare off any customers she didn't like. Realizing this, Becky hits Ginger on the head with the butt of her katana.
"Ow, fuck! My bu--er, I mean my head!" cursed Ginger. "What did you do that for, Sis?"
"You've done it again," said Becky. "At this rate, we are going to be in the red."
"It's not my fault that they aren't buying anything. When a customer walks in, I have to make an effort to make them buy something--even if it is a stupid chocolate bar. Otherwise, they should just fuck off."
"You're a real people person."
"People suck. And they suck a lot of dick as well."
Mira emerged from the kitchen with a tray with two bowls of desert.
"Oh my," she said. "Where are those two boys? They left without eating the pineapple parfait I made for them."
"Ginger..." growled Becky.
"How was I supposed to know that they paid already?" said Ginger. "Besides, we got free money."
"Whatever you say. I suppose we can't let the parfait go to waste." Becky walks over to the cafÇ and grabs one of the desert bowls.
"That's the spirit Sis!" cheered Ginger. "Eat the pudding that those fags paid for!"
"Be quiet Gingerbrat."
All of a sudden Red bursts into the store distressed. As usual, she holds the two broom halves that she broke, yet for some reason there is loud hissing noise.
"Grandma! Grandma!" cried Red.
"What is it Red-chan?" Becky asked.
"I've got two snakes on my broom!"
Red held up the two broom halves. Coiled around it and her arms are two black poisonous snakes.
"By the good will of Allah, those are black mambas!" cried Mira.
"Shit, what the fuck is wrong with this girl?" cried Ginger.
"Red-chan, don't move!" said Becky.
"Do what now?" asked Red.
"Don't come any closer?"
Red advanced closer. "Huh?"
Becky stepped backward, but then suddenly Red dashed straight towards Becky and the other girls and gave them a good chase around the store. Things fell, things broke, and the large canister of propane exploded as Red scared the shit out of Becky, Ginger, and Mira with the two black snakes on her arms.
Meanwhile at the back of the store, HLS shagged two female pit bull terriers with her double-dildo strap-on. She had interrupted a gambled fight that was happening. Initially, the bettors, the spectators, and the pit bulls' owners were pissed when HLS appeared. But after a while, they felt strangely excited at the sight of a dog fucking two dogs at the same time. Instead of betting on which pit bull would kick the other's ass, they decided to wager on how long HLS would last. Let me tell you, HLS lasted a long time.
Unfortunately they were too engrossed in the dog fucking to notice that the entire general store was becoming wholly trashed of all of its goods. Being a poison expert, the scared Mira tamed the snakes by playing Jennifer Lopez's latest single, and then killed them both with a waffle iron. Not wanting to hear wannabe pop artist sing any further, Ginger grabbed her metal bat and bashed to pieces the expensive CD jukebox.
"That felt good," smiled Ginger. "Say, do you think we can sell the snake's poison and stuff?"
"We could," said Mira, "but look at our store."
Ginger looked around. Literally everything was either broken or burning.
"It could be worse," said Ginger.
"Worse, huh?" Becky said. "Now we got nothing to sell!"
"I know I can do something about that in a few days."
"We need the money soon to pay for the lease, the huge fees we racked up, and to bribe Commissioner White."
"And we ran out of Seventeen magazine for him," added Mira.
"It this a good time for a meeting?" Ginger asked.
"Oh yes it is," said Becky.
"Hey, is this store open?" asked a voice.
The girls turned around and saw the famished resident crackhead Joe poking his head into the store.
"Oh, hey Joe," greeted Becky.
"Oh man," he said. "I didn't know a tornado blew in here."
"A tornado does less damage."
"Is this a bad time? I really wanted to present to you my girlfriend Davina in the bikini she had just bought."
The two words "Davina" and "bikini" was not just an unsettling thought; it was a horrific and an apocalyptic vision. Never do the girls wanted to see a grotesquely thin and hairy transsexual male in a bikini. Not wanting to see his/her silhouette past the windows, Ginger pushed Joe out into the sidewalk, and Mira, Red, and Becky locked and barricaded the door. Then they boarded up the windows.
"Let's move the meeting to the cabin," Becky suggested.
All the rest of the girls nodded in unison. Quickly, they gathered the cash from the cash register and the safe and hurried through the back door. At the back alley, they found a pile of dead men with bloodied crotches and two female pit bulls walking in circles in a daze. HLS sat before the girls panting with her tail wagging and bloodied mouth open.
"It's safe to assume that the headlines will read 'Men Committed Ritualistic Suicide in Back Alley," said Becky.
Everyone nodded in agreement. With HLS following them, they all returned home at the cabin by the river.
Mira made dinner, which everyone ate amidst the rocking sound of Marilyn Manson[ii] and Malice Mizer[iii]. When desert was served in the form of western muffins, such as cornbread and chocolate, they gathered all their coffee-stained financial material and papers, and an abused IBM laptop which Mira, Becky, and Red recently had their threesome on.
"I call the meeting of this household to adjourned!" Becky announced.
"We didn't even start yet stupid-ass," said Ginger.
"I meant to say that it is beginning, and stuff. Hey, what did you call me?"
"Stupid-ass."
"I'm not that stupid!"
"Settle down," said the motherly Mira. "As we can see by the bills and bribes we owe, we are most certainly at the red."
"They're at me?" Red asked.
"Anyway, if we don't make any money soon, Red's will be closed down, and we won't have enough money to evade the authorities and support our lifestyle at the same time."
"I'll be closed down?"
"Damn right," said Ginger. "I need to be pampered till I cum!"
Mira became wet when she heard that. She nearly fainted in sheer ecstasy, and slapped herself back into composure. Now she needed to satisfy Ginger more than ever.
"So then," started Becky, "do we have any ideas to raise some money?"
Ginger shot her hand up.
"Without getting us killed?"
Ginger's hand remained erect.
"Shot at?"
Ginger still had her hand up.
"Arrested?"
Ginger hand was still up.
"What do you suggest Gingerbrat?"
"I say we sell crack!"
"We just did!"
"All of it?"
"Yes, all of it!"
"What about that crazy hallucinogenic cannibis that Red's folks had been producing?"
"You burned it all down while you and Red were playing."
"That's because we wanted to stone the whole town. That didn't turn out the way I planned it."
"Do you think we could manipulate the stock market like last time?" Mira asked.
"Not a chance. I hear there is a dot-com boom coming up. I may be an underage gambler, but there is no way I am gambling on the shitty start-ups out there."
"So I guess we have to wait it out."
"How about we take a job from Gottmutter?"
"She does not have any right now," replied Becky.
"I see."
"Do we have any other ideas?"
"We could do the loan thing again, but it's near impossible now due to the crackdowns."
"Of course. We've already taken too much loans under false identities."
"I could come up with one more."
"Oh really?"
"Indeed I could. Plus, I also have an excellent proposition prepared for you guys!"
"Here we go again..."
Ginger pulled from underneath the pile of papers a bounded document she printed using the copier they had stolen from a Neo-Nazi publisher, who was beaten to death by his compatriots because Ginger and the other girls put a sign on him that read that he loved Barbara Streisand and Yanni.
"I just downloaded and printed an advance copy of Matthew Lesko's Free Government Money for the Criminal Mastermind!" Ginger announced. "On page 267, there is a five-hundred thousand dollar government grant for a pair of disabled teenage lesbians who wish to start an online business."
"Are you serious?" Becky asked.
"Of course I am! I checked it out by hacking into the federal government. It has Sandra Day O'Connor's approval."
"Well slap my butt and call me lavender. I would have not known."
"Don't you worry you guys! I'll head over to the state office and get the money faster than you can say 'Anne Heche is a dickgirl'."
Mira leapt from her chair and grabbed both of Ginger's hands.
"It requires a pair, right?" Mira asked. "Then I'll happily be your, um, partner."
"No thanks," smiled Ginger. "You're too old. I'm going with Red."
I'm too old? Mira screamed within her mind. She immediately lets go of Ginger's hands and staggered backward in a daze. Her head drooped, and she lumbered past all the girls and HLS.
"I'm be in my room," said Mira. She headed upstairs and closed herself off in her remodeled room that once had posters of obnoxious boy bands and brainless female pop idols. Then she started masturbating.
Becky then hits Ginger on the head.
"Baka!" she said. "You don't tell women that they're old!"
"Well, she is!" said Ginger.
"She's only twenty-three. But anyway, how come I'm not your partner?"
"First off, you're too tall. Second, I couldn't get anywhere with you stopping by at every bar we see, including the gay-male ones. Third, Red is a lot more controllable than you ass-fat."
"What did you call me?"
"Ass-fat!"
Becky lunged, but she hesitated. Usually, she would spank Ginger upon hearing her say "fat-ass", but she had just said it reverse.
"Ha!" Ginger cried. "I confused you sorry ass-fat!"
Becky thought for a second. If Ginger said it in reverse, then in turn she should spank her in reverse. But how? That would mean she'd be slapping her vagina, and even for her that would be too invasive... and erotic.
"I got it!" Becky cried.
Becky tripped Ginger so that she fell on her back. Then she started stomping Ginger's crotch with her foot.
"Ah, what the fuck are you doing?" cried Ginger. "This only works on guys!"
"Shut-up!" Becky snapped. "I'm trying to punish you!"
"Go ahead and try you numbnut!"
Suddenly, Ginger started moaning, and it became even louder as Becky stomped harder. Then she started fondling her own breasts until she came with a tearful orgasm. Becky finally realized at what she had done, so she sat back down shocked.
Ginger was shocked as well. Though she masturbated on occasion, this was the first time some other person made her cum. She sat back up on the floor and rested her hands on her knees in embarrassment.
"Um, sorry," Becky blushed.
"Er, maybe I should stop calling you ass-fat," said Ginger. "That was just too..."
"It was an accident."
"I know."
"The feelings just mutual, right?"
"Yeah."
"What just happened?" Red asked.
"Nothing!" Becky and Ginger cried. "Nothing at all!"
"Oh. Hey, Ginger. We should change into our disguises!"
Ginger leapt back on her feet. "Great idea!" she said. "To the Gingerbread Grrl Cave!"
"Huh?"
"I mean, let's go upstairs and change into our costumes."
Red and Ginger ran upstairs to their respective rooms. Minutes later, they emerged into the hallway in their special costumes. Ginger was wrapped in all bandages just like that one chapter before, and the only thing that was exposed were her eyes, her hair, her bra, and the accompanying cleavage. Red was dressed in a tight-fitting and dangerously provocative Spiderwoman outfit that accentuated her "camel toe" on the groin area.
"Sexy Ginger-Mummy!" Ginger cried in a heroic pose.
"Spidercunt!" Red cried.
"Together we are..."
They stopped in the middle of a money-shot, wondering what their "superhero" duo should be.
"I think it should be just the two of us," said Ginger.
"Just the two of us," sang Red.
Becky and HLS looked back up to them somewhat confused.
"I can understand you Gingerbrat," said Becky, "but why is Red dressed in a Spiderwoman costume?"
"I'll just tell the grant office that she's mentally disabled," grinned Ginger.
"Ginger-ale is made from human urine," said Red.
"Damn it, we knew that already. Haven't you been paying attention to the novel?"
"So you girls need any help?" Becky asked.
"Don't worry about us! We'll be back before 20/20[iv] comes on."
"Okay. Take care."
Ginger and Red got their usual belongings of an IBM 240 notebook computer and two FN Browning BDAO compact pistols respectively, and headed outside where their stolen turbo-charged and nitro-assisted yellow Yugo was parked at. As it turned out, the Yugo already had a rickety wheelchair and two walking crutches in the trunk when it was stolen--perfect for Ginger and Red's fraudulent operation. The super modification came later.
Red waved goodbye to Becky as Ginger took the wheel and drove off. When they disappeared from sight, Mira finally emerged from her room with soaked panties and stepped out onto the porch.
"Darn, I missed Sexy Ginger-Mummy," said Mira. "Anyway, what was that noise down there? It almost sounded like Ginger was coming."
"Oh that?" Becky said. "Um I sort of made her come with my foot."
"With your foot?"
Mira looked dropped to the ground to sniff Becky's right foot, which was covered by a sock. She sniffed it, and found traces of Ginger's vagina scent. Distressed by the news, she fell backward.
"Don't tell me you and Ginger," she gasped.
"It was sort of accidental. Ginger was a bit confused at first, but I can tell she liked it."
"NO!"
Mira ran back to her room in tears and locked herself inside. Once again, she masturbated and fantasized about making Ginger get off with her feet.
"I wanted to go down into the Gingerbread Grrl Cave!" Mira whined.
And so, Ginger sped the yellow Yugo downtown in Nashville to the State Treasury building. Being the lazy-ass, Ginger got onto the rickety wheelchair and rolled on ahead as Red struggled to use the crutches because the ones she had were meant to be slid over the forearms instead of placed underneath the armpits.
The two mismanaged their way through the hallways garnering full attention from the suits, jeans-wearing unemployed, and the English-as-their-second-language janitors. Ginger plowed her way in her wheelchair kicking people along the way, while Red tripped all over knocking down trashcans, vases, and a whole row of disabled National Guard veterans. They took the elevator up to the third floor and went inside the grants and aid office to wait impatiently for about fifteen minutes until their numbers were called up. Right when they approached the desk to submit the paperwork, the secretary Primeris Sturges, upon on glance, immediately discovered they had an invalid form.
"Oh, I'm terribly sorry," said she, "the government had just stopped the all acceptances of this type of grant just yesterday."
Angered, Ginger leapt off her wheelchair and slammed her hands on the secretary's desk. "What?" she cried. "I wasn't told of this! You're trying to shaft me! Is that it you city-hillbilly?"
"You should have received a mailing notice last week."
Ginger's frown disappeared, for she realized that she had been using addresses to condemned and abandoned houses she owned all over North America, and she wasn't quite sure which one the Federal grant office sent it to.
"Um, say," Ginger said with a smile, "you don't suppose there are any other grants for disabled lesbians."
"Like hell," said Primeris. "Our government had rid itself of homosexual grant aid and subsidies. Besides, you're not disabled."
"What are you talking about? I'm in a wheelchair! And I got bandages wrapped all over my body!"
"Yeah, sure."
"I got leprosy. Groin leprosy. Really contagious."
Ginger kicked Red in the shin to speak up.
"I've got groin leprosy too!" Red cried.
The secretary Primeris dropped her jaw in absolute horror.
"You hear that!" Ginger yelled out. "I've got groin leprosy! And it's eating my vagina away! Mwa ha ha!"
There were screams of fright. Men, women, transgenders, and transsexuals alike covered their crotches to help shield from the false bacterial-viral disease. Word spread fast, and almost immediately the entire federal emptied out of the frightful running with their hands between their legs.
"Such fools," winced Ginger. "That's Nashville for ya."
"So what imaginary disease are you going to use next?" Red asked.
"Mammary papilla sangre--the nipple-bleeding virus. Now let's get to work!"
Fortunately, some of the offices had cash registers and safes, and some people left their wallets and purses during the frenzied escape. After disabling the security, Ginger and Red stole all of the money that was left behind, but due to the troubling local economy, they could barely muster up five hundred dollars. Ginger threw down her wheelchair from the railing and headed down the stairs with Red disappointed with their effort.
"Stupid democrat government," grumbled Ginger. "They forgot to give shit to the fucking red states."
"So what do we do?" Red asked. "We can't go back to Grandma without the money."
"There is always the option of escaping Sis's clutches."
"Please don't leave us! We love you!"
"Uh, yeah, sure."
Right when they reached the first floor lobby, there was television with the news on. On it, a minority news anchor reported that a string of burglaries were being committed at people's homes by costumed persons pretending to be a non-profit entertainment venue for sick children.
"I say we rob people," said Ginger.
"But Grandma doesn't like preying on the weak," said Red.
"Weak? Weak? They're not weak! Individually they are, but when the congregate in their clandestine meetings in their churches, they are a force to be reckoned with! They want ban porn, drugs, video games, movies, books, art, Napster, Slashdot, and all that good stuff. And they unknowingly allied by the pig-headed heads of the corporations so they could use the churchgoers for their fascist take over the world! We have to deny these people of money before they give it to the church, who then hand it to their Republican political party run by right-wing atheist corprotists! Do you dig?"
"No."
Ginger slouched and looked down on the floor. "Why do I even bother?"
"But if it's the right thing to do, then I'll help you."
Ginger stood up and flailed her arms up. "Excellent! Now I'm getting closer to my takeover of the world. Republicans, democrats, and all those U.S. political parties--fuck them! Fuck them in their eye sockets! I'll be the true power in this world! They will all bow down to Sexy Ginger-Mummy!"
"And Spidercunt!"
"Shut-up."
"Okay!" Red saluted.
And so, Ginger and Red got into their yellow Yugo and drove off to a random surburbs for their first hit.
"Why am I stuck driving?" Jean Owen Biggs said to herself.
She was on the road in her black Nissan Maxima driving three people. First was her kooky older sister Gene Duo Biggs who had grown her hair back and it was now longer than ever. The second in the back seat was the Londoner Kitty Muffet, and third was a pretty female hitchhiker. Right now, Kitty was performing Holistic Cunnilingus on the hitchhiker in order to cure her heroin addiction. Besides that, Jean was also annoyed by the obnoxious chants Gene was practicing for her Tribade Zoroastrianism.
"And where are we going?" Jean asked.
"We're going to Becky-chan's!" Gene answered.
"I know that! I've been driving in circles for hours! And why do we have to pick up that druggie hitchhiker?"
"All life's meetings are significant."
"And annoying."
"I'm done," announced Kitty as she wiped vagina cum from her mouth.
"Thank God."
Jean drove to a full stop in the middle of a rural highway. The hitchhiker grabbed her pink purse and stepped out of the car. She then gave Kitty a kiss on the cheek.
"Thank you so much," said the hitchhiker. "Will I ever see you again?"
Kitty pulled out a business card from her leather purse and gave to her.
"You now have my number darling," Kitty smiled.
"I'll look forward to it again."
Jean groaned. She resumed driving once Kitty drove the door.
"How did I get conned into this?" Jean said.
"You mentioned that you had an obligation to watch over us," said Kitty. "Plus, you don't have enough money to stay at the hotel while they fumigate the house and sticks for termites."
"Gene, why won't you stop collecting those damn sticks?"
"Each stick has a soul in it," started Gene, "including Popsicle sticks, Pixy Stix, metal sticks, band sticks, drum sticks, etc. They are the embodiment of the very life source of this planet of ours, for you see..."
"That's enough! Tell me where we are going!"
"Oh! That reminds me. The cabin is at a secret location."
"What?"
"And only I know the way there."
"You never been there!"
"I've been there in spirit."
"Aargh!"
"Anyway, I have to blindfold you."
"But I'm the one driving! Why don't you drive?"
"I don't have a license Jean-chan."
"Neither do I," said Kitty. "I don't want to risk it since I'm used to driving on the left side in the U.K."
"It's not like there is any cop out there," said Jean.
"Ah, but you don't want to burden yourself financially with another ticket."
"Don't worry little sister," said Gene. "I'll give you extremely accurate directions."
"All right, fine! Just don't get us killed."
"I won't."
Jean pulled over to the side of the road. Kitty blindfolded herself with a black leather masochistic bondage blindfold she sometimes used during her Holistic Cunnilingus operations. Gene drew fake eyes on a white handkerchief and used it to wrap it around Jean's eyes. The eyes looked off and funny, and it nearly made Gene laugh. Jean could still see, but only blob-like shapes, light, and the badly-drawn fake eyes.
The reason Becky sent the directions to Gene because she was most likely not to tell anyone, or probably no one would take her seriously. Gene held out the directions she printed from an email and puts on her dirty reading glasses.
"I'm going to take a nap," said Kitty. "Wake me up when you get there."
Thus, Kitty fell asleep and started snoring.
"Okay, I'm starting to get back onto the road slowly," announced Jean.
"STOP!" Gene screamed.
Jean braked to a halt.
"What is it?" she asked.
"A spirit is passing by," replied Gene. "We don't want to run over it."
"A spirit?"
"The spirit of Tina Turner!"
"She's not dead!"
"I know, but right now it is detached."
"Argh."
Jean started off driving nearly blind on the empty highway.
"Just keep at it," said Gene. "You're doing fine."
Suddenly, there was bump, and Jean's heart raced.
"What was that?" Jean asked.
"Oh, that was just a cardboard," replied Gene.
"Thank God."
Suddenly they heard sirens.
"Is that the police?"
"Oh yes," said Gene.
"We've got to pull over!"
"Not to worry, they're at the other side of the road."
Then there were more sirens.
"Now what?"
"That's the ambulance. Just keep at the right and let them pass."
The sounds of the ambulance whizzed by. All of a sudden, there more sirens. At the same time, the air became hot and smelled smoky.
"That's just the firefighters putting out a nearby blaze."
"That means they'll close the road!" cried Jean.
"It's been closed beforehand for repairs. After the fire truck passes, get on your left. You'll be going onto a temporary gravel road."
"Are you serious?"
"Turn now!"
Jean made a sharp turn left. The ride now became rougher and bumpier. Kitty remained sleeping and snoring.
"You might make a slide right," said Gene. "And after a while, make curved left."
"Okay."
Jean made the turns. Then suddenly she felt they were going downhill, but not too much.
"I'm going the right place, right?" Jean asked.
"Of course," said Gene. "From then on, it's a steep drop."
"WHAT?"
As Gene had said, the hill became steeper, and Jean screamed as the car went down.
"Just maintain this path," said Gene.
"You and Becky are insane!"
"Ah! Watch out for that deer!"
Jean screamed and swerved to avoid the invisible target.
"By now we should be hitting the water," said Gene.
The car splashed into water, but it was not sinking. Gene patted Jean's shoulder and told her to go on.
"Are you sure we're not in a river?" Jean asked.
"Of course not," smiled Gene. "We're on a flooded highway."
Jean maintained control as the car sloshed its way through the waters. Then it suddenly rocked back and forth.
"What is going now?"
"That's just the two manatees on our right. They're having sex right now."
"You are kidding!"
"Ah, make a turn to the right in thirty seconds. We'll be out of the water if we do so."
Thirty seconds later, Jean made a turn.
"I want you to go top speed," said Gene.
"Why?"
"Trust me."
Jean floored the petal. All of a sudden, she felt the car lock itself onto some kind of railing. As she sped, she felt the road climb higher and higher until she felt a sensation of being upside down.
"Are we on a roller coaster?" Jean asked.
"Let me think... yes. There are two more loops and two corkscrews to go through."
"Waugh!"
All Jean could do now was cry. The tears were so much that she could not see the shapes and light anymore. Regardless, she maintained control of the car on the roller coaster until suddenly she felt she was in a dark place.
"We're inside a tunnel," said Gene.
"Okay."
"It's being flooded."
Jean screamed again. She sped the car and sometimes corkscrewed from the ground to the ceiling to avoid the noisy rush of water. Eventually, she emerged outside into the light.
"And we should be right inside a dense forest," said Gene. "Now follow the directions I am about to give to you."
"Mommy!"
She obeyed the directions and drove through the forest on an extremely bumpy pathway. The only obstacle she had to avoid besides the trees was an elephant.
"Are we clear?" Jean cried.
"Watch for that dog!"
Jean puts the car to a full stop. She unbuckled her safety belt and leapt out of the car. She took off her blindfold and threw it down to the ground. Then she angrily stared back at the relaxed and spaced-out Gene.
"Forget it!" Jean yelled. "I'm not going to drive anymore!"
"But Becky is eager to see us," said Gene. "Especially you Jean-chan."
"Then that's too bad! We're going back home!"
"Oh look. We're here already."
"WHAT?"
Jean turned around and saw the cabin was right before her eyes. At her feet wagging its tail was HLS, the dog she swerved to avoid. She fell to her knees stunned and stressed. HLS began licking her face to comfort her.
Finally, Kitty woke up from her nap and took off her leather bondage blindfold and stepped out of the car to stretch.
"Kitty-chan, we've arrived," Gene announced.
"I know," said Kitty. "The body is never one-hundred percent asleep. I somehow knew we had arrived."
Hearing the voices from outside, Mira headed out pants-less and after a quick session of masturbation. Gene and Kitty ran to give her a hug.
"Kitty, Gene!" Mira said. "Welcome!"
"It's nice to see you again darling," smiled Kitty.
"Becky! They're here!"
"They're here?" Becky's voice sounded out.
From the kitchen, a pants-less Becky ran out to the front porch and hugged Gene and Kitty. After doing so, she looked back at the stressed and stunned Jean.
"Hey Jean-chan," greeted Becky. "Would you like a hug too? It's boobilicious!"
Jean's eyebrow twitched. After slowing rising to her feet, she ran and tackled Becky. Then she started beating her breasts.
"WHY DO YOU DO THIS TO ME?" screamed Jean. "WRYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY?"
"Arf!" barked HLS.
"Jean," started Becky. "I have to mention that HLS says that you're in denial."
"SHUT-UP! SHUT-UP! SHUT-UP!"
"Um, I guess I'll let you two in," Mira said to Kitty and Gene. Everyone had decided to allow Jean relieve her stress by beating Becky's breasts.
"Hold on," said Gene. "I have to get the costumes out of the trunk."
"Oh yes. That's one of the reasons you are here."
Mira and Kitty assisted Gene in carrying bags and bags of unfolded garments from the stuffed trunk to the cabin. At the same time, Becky got back on her feet and followed them while Jean kept on beating her breasts.
After putting aside the costumes in the living room, they all went to the kitchen and dinette where Mira made tea and served biscuits for the guests. Becky was seated so that Jean kept on beating her breasts while sitting next to her. Sometimes, Jean took a break to drink the tea that was given to her.
"How's your older sister doing Gene?" Becky asked.
"With the fortunate death of Rampion Nuzel," began Gene, "our dear Shania have taken a much needed sabbatical in India in order to foster new relations with top Indian stars. There, she shall meet the zombie spirit Gandhi, Buddha, and the actor Khan."
"Um, that's nice."
"How are things going at your place?" Kitty asked.
"Not so good. There are no jobs, our store's busted, and we're in debt. So we sent Red and Ginger to get some money for us."
"That's too bad."
"But that doesn't mean we can't party!"
"I can't help but notice that your car was wet on the bottom," said Mira. "Did you follow Becky's directions correctly?"
"Oh yes," smiled Gene. "I saw two manatees humping each other, a chemical factory fire, an elephant, rode a roller coaster, and escaped rushing water inside a tunnel. It was a thrill ride!"
"Then you've must have taken the long cut through the amusement park that's under construction, the new aqueduct, and the zoo."
"I did? Oh my. I guess I read the directions upside down. I always do these things since I'm semi-dyslexic. Then again, I did want to drop by those places because they were so interesting!"
Jean paused the beating of Becky's breasts. "You mean there was a safer path?"
"I had to draw out the map and directions for you to avoid being sighted by the police, the FBI, and Güse's spies," said Becky. "Although there was the option of smuggling you on the river via tugboat. But I'm impressed Gene. That is some awesome navigating!"
"I can't believe you Gene!"
"Are you going to beat my breasts?" asked Gene. "What fun!"
"No way! God knows where they have been! So I'll beat Becky's since she is the one behind this!"
Jean turned back to Becky and resumed beating her breasts. She continued to do so even when she went to the bathroom--with Becky watching her poop and pee.
The dark sedan of the FBI sped through the empty city streets of Nashville and towards the Federal welfare and grant office building where it was being fumigated, washed, and inspected by the city's biohazard response crew. The car stopped before a barricade checkpoint put up by the police, who were in blue and rubber HAZMAT suits. One of the officers walked up to the window of the car as it opened.
If one was expecting the plucky FBI agents Dish and Spoon, this was not the chapter since they were taking an appointed fishing trip with such fellow agents as Ryan Bowl, Steve Knife, and Fox Mulder organized by Assistant Directors Dish Sr. and John Fork in order to create cohesion between fellow agents. However, the women never like fishing, so they decided to choose work instead going out on boat to a polluted river that looked quite clean on the outside.
Today's agents, or rather this chapter's agents were Chandra Plate, a somewhat ditsy agent who had a one-night stand with Spoon because he accidentally ingested a black-market version of Viagra. The other female agent, who was sitting in the passenger seat, was the gruff, and somewhat disheveled Molly Pitcher who was chain-smoker of imported cigarettes. Despite her look, she was a top agent favored by Fork, and she always went by the book. However, there were times she was ruthless, but all her superiors felt that was her special trait.
The two women showed off their badges to the police officer.
"I'd advise you two to put on some HAZMAT suits," he said. "There was just news of an outbreak of groin leprosy."
"Groin leprosy?" twitched Pitcher. She opened the car door and spat out her cigarette in contempt. Then she leaned on the roof of the car and stared dead-on into the eyes of the now-frightened officer.
"I've got a orange-haired fellow agent who would like to say that is a crock of shit," said Pitcher. "Of course, she wouldn't say that directly. Are you Bible-belt bastards that stupid?"
"We're not exactly within the Bible Belt let alone stupid. I'm actually Anglican."
"Whatever you say you intelligent design freaks."
"What my partner is saying that there is no such thing as groin leprosy," said Plate. "Just the general leprosy."
"Thank God," said the officer.
"Now call off the HAZMAT crew," commanded Pitcher. "You're wasting too much of the citizen's tax dollars."
"Of course."
The officer then relayed the order to his superiors and the biohazard crew at the command truck. They were hesitant to do so, but upon seeing Pitcher lighting up another cigarette, they proceeded with her order.
"That was a little harsh. You always seem to scare people like that," said Plate as she got out of the car. "I find that very attractive."
"You're not hitting on me, are you?" Pitcher asked.
"Of course not. You know my heart's set on Patrick Spoon."
"You two haven't been talking to each other lately. What happened between you two?"
"It's his job. He and his partner are dead set on capturing those four girls and the dog."
"About that... I hear that Spoon is..."
"Hey may act like that, but I know he's straight as Golden Gate bridge!"
"If you think about, it's actually a curve, just like the surface of the Earth."
"And what about you? Have you got someone in your life?"
"Me? Ha! Like there ever will! Besides, I don't want to experience another loss of my man."
"Oh, I'm terribly sorry--about your husband and all."
"Even though he was a left-wing liberal terrorist traitor, I still respect him for dying for what he believed in."
"You sure are positive about that."
"I have to move on you know."
"You really need to find yourself another man. Life's too short you know. Speaking of which, guys nowadays don't go for chain smokers. You really should something about that."
"It doesn't hurt me."
"You could still die from lung cancer."
"The doctor said I am fine. Every person is built different. You know that lung cancers were not prevalent before the Crimean War, which was the peak of the Industrial Age. That's because cigarettes since that time are made with unnatural materials that makes you addictive. They don't even use pure tobacco anymore. That is why I order independent and organically grown cigarettes from Eastern Europe for the buzz without the addiction."
"So you say."
Plate and Pitcher head over to the empty federal building and beheld the soap-laden walls and floor. Eventually, the chief appeared and took off his HAZMAT headgear.
"Hello ladies," he greeted, "I am Chief Zack Spud."
"Chandra Plate," said Plate.
"Molly Pitcher, said Pitcher. "What seems to be going on here?"
"The whole district cried wolf," said Spud. "It seemed they overreacted to the outbreak of groin leprosy. It was spread by two individuals in costumes."
"The Costumed Burglars!" cried Plate.
"You heard of them?"
"Of course! Besides the countless corporate robberies, they've also are wanted by the FBI for massive fraud and drug possession."
"Right now, they're on the verge of robbing the city's suburbs dry. Oh, why did the mayor have to cut back funding for our forces?"
"Have you found a pattern?" asked Pitcher.
"None. They're good; very good. They usually rob during Sunday when almost everyone is at church and during all manner of football games, monster truck shows, wrestling shows, and NASCAR races."
"And so we are sent to investigate this matter, as well as getting your asses in gear."
"Erm, yes."
"Is there anything special going on?"
"There is the game on TV."
"Damn. And every homeowner will have their guard down."
"And some of my men have feigned sickness so they could catch it."
"Even if they are sick, get those assholes out of their houses or local bars! There are two armed burglars on the loose and they'll rob yet another American Dream."
"Oh, you are so cool Molly!" squealed Plate.
"I'm only doing it because it's my job."
Both Ginger and Red begun to realize that the streets were unusually empty, and when they passed by a liquor store that read, "CLOSED FOR THE GAME," the allure of burglary became greater.
So they robbed that store and discovered that there were no safes.
"Not a good idea," said Ginger. "They take the money home."
Thus they poured the alcohol in a steel trashcan drum and set it in fire. Afterwards, they drove all the way up to the suburbs--the clean kind where all of the homes look alike and had white outer walls, SUVs, trucks, and Ford Mustangs galore. Despite the lights on the porch and inside the houses, Ginger knew that they were empty due to her experience in home invasion. When away, the smart homeowner would leave their lights on to throw off dumb thieves. Ginger, however, was not a dumb thief.
Ginger chose the two-story house with the Ford Explorer. The house had its lights on, and it a blue octagon sign proudly declaring its purchase of a home security service to ease off imagined fears of home invaders--particularly non-white and non-Protestant ones.
The first step in home invasion was to scope out the area for security devices. Of course, almost all types home security were always easily defeated by the likes of Ginger since they were just cheap compared to the elaborate ones the corporate buildings and mansions had. She also had to watch out for any type of neighborhood watch program, but thanks to the anti-charity and anti-sharing propaganda of pro-corporate conservative politics, people were more reluctant to help others. Then again, apathy of one's neighbor's plight arouse naturally since the birth of suburban communities.
"ADT my ass," snickered Ginger. "I can bust through their security in minutes!"
"How do you get through it Gingerbread?" Red asked.
"Easy! All I have to is get the serial ID number, upload it to my laptop, disconnect the data line between the head office and the house, and plug my laptop in to disable the system and broadcast false data back to ADT."
"Huh?"
"Just stand and watch dumbass."
"Roger-roger!"
Ginger got to work, and it took about ten minutes to disable the home security only to discover that service had been cut off days ago. It was all the better anyway, so she and Red headed to the front door with their time based upon on how much battery her computer had. Ginger picked the lock while Red loaded up her FN Browning pistol with fresh bullets.
The lock became unlocked, and Ginger and Red slowly crept in only discover that the entire house was somewhat empty and messy. Ginger could tell it was robbed very recently, and that there were piles of signs indicated that it would be sold soon.
"Shit!" Ginger cursed. "Of all the houses!"
"Who goes there?" boomed a white male voice.
Ginger shook in fright. A beer-bellied man with a comb-over dressed in a t-shirt with the logo of a football team and pajama pants dove from the second floor with a metal baseball bat. He slowly advanced to the girls ready to swing.
"Get out of my house!" he cried.
"Red!" Ginger cried. "Get him!"
"Okay!" Red said.
Red dashed towards the man and performed an awesome flip kick to his face. The man fell backward and dropped his bat. Red then jumped back and double-kicked his stomach, rendering him unconscious.
"Get off my husband," said white female voice.
Red looked up towards the stairs saw a pink robed woman with a shotgun pointed at her. Beside her were two frightened children, a girl and a boy.
"We don't have anything anymore," said the mother. "Now please leave."
"Not a chance!" Ginger said when she made her appearance. "I bet you got some hidden stash you got from insurance."
"I'd advise you to put down the gun WASSFP[v] lady," said Red. "That doesn't have any bullets."
She was right. The woman dropped the gun and fell to her knees weeping.
"Now let's tie them up!" Ginger cried.
Red and Ginger stripped all of the family members naked or half-naked and wrapped them up with ropes. To add further insult to injury, they hung them upside down in the opening between the two floors.
Ginger and Red began to ransack all of the rooms, which was useless since there was absolutely nothing of value--unless one counts the organs in their crying victims. Speaking of crying, their tears and wails were irritating Ginger greatly.
"Will you stop crying?" Ginger yelled.
"Why does this have to happen to us?" wept the mother. "We've got robbed a month ago, our homeowners insurance refuse to cover our losses, and ADT haven't given our money to pay our bills. We've already sold everything and mortgaged the Explorer!"
"It's obvious that it's your fault for buying an expensive gas-guzzler. Red, kill them."
"But that's violating the first rule," said Red.
"They're killing my ears with these stupid complaints!"
"They're not killing you."
"They're killing my softly... with their fucking songs."
The two children wailed even louder.
"Fuck this," Ginger cursed.
Ginger went down to the kitchen and brought up the bag of Tootsie Pops. She opened the most repulsing flavors and stuck them into the mouths of the family members. Then she taped their mouths shut so they wouldn't spit them out.
"I want some candy!" Red cried.
"Go help yourself," said Ginger. "They've got bag loads."
"Yippie!"
Red proceeded to dump all the candy into a pillowcase and began eating them one by one. The children cried even more because of this.
Since Ginger was pissed at getting nothing, she decided to burn the family's clothes in the backyard. She also took cut up furniture and household objects to make into silly costumes that she put on to her victims. Then she used the mother's makeup and smeared them on their faces. Ginger laughed hard, but it was not enough to satisfy her greed. They couldn't steal the Ford Explorer because it was almost out of gas.
Thus they left the family hanging as they went over to the next WASSFP house across the neighborhood complex and discovered that not only it was inhabited, but robbed as well. Using Red as a strong arm, Ginger ordered her to take down the homeowners and tie them up. At the same time, Ginger burned their clothes and put on her victims hilarious costumes and makeup. Then they left taking all of the candy with them.
The process repeated itself house after house, and all of them were inhabited and robbed. The victims were thus tied in compromising, hilarious, and sometimes arousing positions, and the costumes and makeup Ginger puts on them kept on getting funnier and weirder. Ginger also broke what's left of their possessions out of sheer frustration. With every house, all they could ever steal was more candy.
It was quickly getting dark, and whatever televised football game was nearing its end. The frustrated Ginger drove recklessly, and the giant tit-like chocolate candy Red was provocatively licking annoyed her. The pimped-out yellow Yugo could not hold any more candy, so they had to steal an old Chevrolet truck from a group migrant workers while they were working on somebody's lawn. Of course, Red and Ginger also took down the workers, stripped them naked, tied them up in compromising positions, burned all their clothes, and dressed them up in leaves and branches. Then they called them Verde Hippie Vixens while driving off with their uninsured truck.
"Tumeric," Red said.
"Um, did you just call me Tumeric?" asked Ginger.
"Si señorita!"
"What do you want then?"
"This isn't working. I want to go home, have some of Mira's special cornbread, eat dinner, watch Fushigi Yugi, and go to the bathroom."
"Damn it Death Lolita. Why don't you just eat the candy right now? And pee at the side of the road?"
"I want to save it for later! Plus, watersports is gross. That's the fourth rule."
"No it isn't."
"Yes it is."
"All right fine. We'll go home after we make one more hit."
"Okay! Which house are we going to hit Tumericbread Gurl?"
"We're gonna hit that house!"
As it turned out, they were right in the in the middle of a luxury housing neighborhood, or more colloquially called the McMansion Block. The truck pulled up before a seven-room house, and Red and Ginger leapt out. They disabled the gate, and slowly crept through the driveway and maneuvered their way to the front door past the creepy-looking orgy of lawn gnomes.
Ginger quickly disabled the home security and left her laptop outside. She picked the lock and opened the castle-like front doors. Fortunately, the place had not been robbed yet.
"Jackpot!" Ginger cried.
Suddenly, Red silenced Ginger by putting her hand over her mouth. She gestured her to be quiet, and drew out her pistol. Red led the way up the stairs while Ginger followed her with frightened cautiousness. As they drew nearer to the master bedroom, they heard the whimpers of a dashing well-to-do father, a mother-I'd-like-to-fuck, and their sexy teenage daughter.
They arrived at the door to the room, and Red poked her head past the sill. She saw the father, mother, and their sexy daughter gagged, the latter of two who were gagged and crying. Red saw the shadow of a dark man, which turned out to be a man dressed in a bright blue fedora hat, and a bright blue trench coat. Strangely, his entire body, including his penis and scrotum, was wrapped in bandages, and the only thing he exposed was his eyes, nostrils, mouth, and fingertips. He was the one holding the victims hostage with a handgun.
"Are you done Black Spider?" cried the white dark man.
Black Spider (or BS) was inside the closet with his ear pressed to the door of the large safe as he slowly twisted the dial. He was black, but particularly skinny. He was dressed in a tight-fitting Spider-Man suit, the version which he was bonded by an alien symboite during the freakin' Secret Wars unnecessary crossover.
"Almost got it Dorkman," said the nerdy-sounding BS.
Dorkman groaned, but he had to put up with his codename because he lost a bar bet with BS a while back. Finally, BS popped open the safe and immediately emptied of all the documents and jewelry into a large plastic trash bag.
"Excellent," said Dorkman. "Now then, I wonder if you could tell me if you have any other hidden loot. Otherwise, I may have to take the virginity of your sexy teenage daughter."
"It's downstairs," said the father, "in the kitchen in an old box of Special K. They are the appreciated bonds for my father's business."
"Thank you very much."
Red was ready to attack, until Ginger silently pushed her to the hallway bathroom. The two hid in the shower and watched as the two costumed men headed downstairs with the recent loot in their bag.
"What are you doing?" Red asked.
"Shush!" Ginger said. "We have to wait for them to get the bonds. Then we jump them."
From outside, the two heard two vehicles pull up to the driveway. Ginger and Red stood on the toilet and looked out the small window to see two white vans. Out of those vans came out a team of four costumed burglars, dressed in the following costumes: Togaman (who looked suspiciously like John Belushi), the blonde and metrosexual Pink Aquaman, the masked and nude Thinks-He's-Invisible Boy (THIB for short), and Midget Abraham Lincoln[vi] (who was not really midget or a dwarf, but he was rather short). Those four along with Dorkman and BS were part of a special team of burglars that preyed on the suburbs in the south and could get away with their crimes due to their connections to the local police force and crime groups.
Dorkman opened the front gate, the door, and the garage for his teammates, who then immediately got to work in the theft of currently valuable items inside the house, including some lawn gnomes. Dorkman then joined up with BS in the ransacking of the kitchen.
"What's this truck doin' here?" wondered Togaman.
"I guess the migrant workers left it here," said Pink Aquaman.
"I'd say we use it for the loot."
From the vantage point in the bathroom, Red gasped.
"They're gonna get the candy!" Red cried.
"Spidercunt, stop!" Ginger yelled.
Red broke the bathroom window and started shooting at the burglars. The costumed men ducked and quickly took cover behind the vehicles and the perimeter walls.
Red then dashed out of the bathroom and sprinted all the way to the kitchen where Dorkman and BS created a mess. Dorkman had his hands in a bag of Billy Bonkura chocolate bars and was eating the candy rather noisily.
"Drop the candy you bastards!" Red cried.
Dorkman and BS put their hands up in fright. However, they were anticipating their rescue when the masked and naked THIB quietly sneaked up behind Red with a switchblade knife. Unbeknownst to him, Ginger was standing next to him. Ginger then kicked THIB in the butt, causing him to drop his knife and fall. She then turned around and started stomping on his exposed crotch repeatedly until it bled.
"TOGAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!" screamed Togaman as he rhino-charged towards Ginger. Ginger sidestepped and put out her foot just in time to trip Togaman. Togaman fell face-forward and landed right on top of THIB. He landed in a position where his knee was applying painful pressure on THIB's penis, scrotum, etc..
Then Pink Aquaman and Midget Abe Lincoln (MAL for short) ran into the house after hearing the cries of their comrades.
"You brutes!" said Pink Aquaman. "Now you'll have to face against my powers of talking to Phish!"
Pink Aquaman made some martial arts gestures in a Bruce Lee kind of way, and then pulled out his cellphone from his underwear. He dialed and got connected to the other line.
"Trey? Is that you?" said Pink. "It's me, Bob. Yeah, I would like to join your band."
Angered at Pink Aquaman's desertion and cowardice, MAL punched Pink in the groin and caused him to collapse in metrosexual pain.
"Now you'll have to face off against me!" squeaked MAL.
Ginger suddenly picked MAL up and tossed him out of the door while screaming, "GINGER MIDGET TOSS!"
MAL was sent flying and landed headfirst into an orgy of lawn gnomes, rendering him unconscious.
"Good job Tumeric!" Red cheered.
Suddenly, Red was struck hard in the face by a day-old baguette BS threw at her. With Red temporarily dazed, Dorkman and BS made a run for it. Before Ginger could do anything, Dorkman shot Ginger--in the butt.
Ginger collapsed and screamed, "Aw, fuck! My--huh?"
Ginger stroked her ass and realized there was no pain and no bullet wound. She looked outside and saw Dorkman and BS stealing the truck she stole.
"They're getting away," said Ginger. "In our truck."
"My candy!" Red screamed. "Gimme back my candy!"
Red ran out of the house got into the driver's seat of one of the vans. Ginger got in the passenger side right when her compatriot started up the vehicle. After putting the radio on a pop station, Red floored the pedal and began her chase of the truck containing the pillowcases and trash bag loads of candy.
Ginger buckled her seatbelt and hung on to the van's interior for dear life. The blaring pop music combined Red's bad driving was not just dangerous--it was deadly and detrimental to one's health.
"How does Sis put up with you?" Ginger yelled.
Traffic was swelling out due to the end of whatever football game that was on, but this did not hinder the car chase any bit. Despite some dings and the running over of a rabid raccoon high on testosterone and catnip, Red managed to keep the van mostly in one piece. Luckily, the chase landed them in the unofficial and uncongested red light district of Nashville, where all the warehouses, drug dealers, porn video stores, and prostitutes hung out.
"They're still on our tail BS!" said Dorkman, who was seated at the passenger seat.
The driver BS gasped horrifically. Staring at the headlights of their getaway truck was a zombie-like was a famished woman in a pink-bikini. BS inadvertently hits the woman and sent her flying. The shock of the hit caused BS to swerve the truck uncontrollably into an erotic bakeshop. Likewise, Red slowly crashed the van at the rear of the truck since she was follo
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