“Look at this big floating ball of shit!” ejaculated Biscuit Pisser, her arms waving in the air, her boobs faintly jiggling, her mustache quivering. “I love it!”
They were standing outside the janky ramps to the ostrich races, which were held in a large floating balloon. There were also magic elevators for those of the wealthier gambling persuasion, large wooden boxes that floated daintily up by way of WPP (wizardry per purchase).
“So, Krumbumbum, hownowbrowncowsabout you do one of them floaty upie thingies for us?”
“Excrete me?” Broderica spat out the grain alcohol she had been swilling from an oversized flask that she had strapped to her shoulders in a purselike fashion. “Can you speak with a little more eloquence than a beached jellyfish?”
“Well eeeeexcreeeete me Shitface sorry I was only LOCKED in a SCEPTIC TANK for MONTHS guess it’s my fault I didn’t use the time to use a dictionary!”
“Excrete me can you two keep it down?” fussed Lady Krumbumbum, adjusting her dress like someone who had never done that before and almost falling over and breaking her ankle in the process. “People are staring.”
People were staring, now more at Krumbumbum than at Biscuit Pisser.
“No! Nobody stare at her stare at me! Stare at me hamnit!!”
“Nice moustache, lady!” someone ejaculated from the back.
“Clucking thank you I’m proud of it!”
A slovenly man slobbered into Biscuit Pisser, causing her to spin around and flash everyone. Catching herself, Biscuit Pisser twisted to face the slob and promptly backhanded him.
“Watch it bub! Ugh! Men, am I right!”
The gawking crowd of mostly men cheered. They were hoping she’d flash them again.
“Woaaaah laady, you goot somee spunkk in youu,” slurred the man, “Ffigurativelyy, at leasst. You everr thoughtt of bein’ in sshhow bussinesss?”
“No. Stop trying to flatter me you’re repulsive.”
“Woaah! You’re perrfect for itt, laady! Youu act likee you’re alreadyy in it! ‘fya eever find yourseelf in the Wiindless Cityy, aask for me, Bleuu Louiee! I’ll gett you in thicc withh the beest of emm!”
Broderica watched with envy as Bleu Louie squashed away into the crowds like an alcoholic amoeba, wondering how anyone could manage to get so much drunker than she constantly was. She immediately resumed gurgling down her large flask.
They agreed to walk up the ramp with all of the other dregs after Krumbumbum insisted that the manner in which she would have to touch herself to cast the spell to make a magic elevator would be far too racy for anyone to get away with in public, and then went on to explain that there was an entire sect of wizards that only cast those kinds of spells under the cover of nighttime. And thick black robes. So if anyone ever saw some creep in a long black robe writhing around almost looking like the grim reaper it was likely just a wizard casting a painfully inappropriate spell.
Begrudgingly they trudged up the wobbling planks, trying not to empty their stomaches as they climbed higher and higher. Krumbumbum, who was struggling enough to keep the straps on her dress from flopping aside like soggy noodles, almost fell right past the roped arm guards when a small piece of cardstock flapped into her face.
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“EEeeeek!”
Biscuit Pisser and Broderica burst out laughing.
“Nice scream Krumbumbum.”
“Yea wow nice job Krumbumbum now everybody’s staring at us.”
She pulled herself up and examined the card. It was Bleu Louie’s business card, with something scrawled on the back about ‘Seared Briscuit’ and ‘MIB.’
“Did you say MIB?” juddered Biscuit Pisser like a jiggling bowl of gelatin. “As in the Mares in Brown?”
“Excrete me?” Broderica snorted, alcohol spraying from her nostrils. “What the hen are the Mares in Brown?”
“The mares dressed all in brown four legged pantsuits that stalk around Caldonia and make sure that nobody sees something they shouldn’t? Time travel, space creatures, interdimensional card games, they manage and control that kind of stuff. If you see them at all, you clucked up, and there’s nothing you can do to escape their hooves.”
Broderica snatched the business card and inspected it. “What the hen kind of preposterous atrocity of a story is that? It sounds like it was dreamed up by someone who’d eaten a particularly moldy slice of cheese.”
“You mean you haven’t heard about them?” Krumbumbum butted in. “They’re a very nebulous organization.”
“They sound like a very nebulous crock of shit if you ask me.”
“Better watch it, Shitface. They give extra attention to those that defy them. Especially the willfully ignorant.”
“Especially,” nodded Krumbumbum.
Broderica sighed and drank as they continued their ascent.
About ten feet from the open doors of the baloon a short, stocky woman wearing a tall, fuzzy bearskin hat blew a loud horn and then ejaculated fiercely, projecting said ejaculation across and all over the crowd. “Bleu Louie! Summoning Bleu Louie! Your prescence is requested at the inner chamber!”
Everyone’s ears perked up post the woman’s ejaculation. The inner chamber was the best possible seat to watch the ostrich races, a small cylindrical one way room in the middle of the racetrack offering a 360 view, well stocked bar, and cock knew what other bells and whistles.
“Hey! Lady!” shrieked Biscuit Pisser, still unused to his feminine vocal chords, “Right over here! Bleu Louie’s right here!”
The lady pushed through the inhebriated crowds and up to Biscuit Pisser.
“You’re not Bleu Louie,” she said mechanically.
“Oh oh I know that you don’t have to tell me! She is!” Biscuit Pisser pointed at Broderica.
“I believe Bleu Louie is a man.”
“Well we both know how he is, not wanting to be recognized and all, so he had a wizard turn him into a woman so he could move around, unseen! Isn’t that right, Shitface?”
Broderica’s head swiveled around and she looked at Biscuit Pisser and the small woman. “Excrete me?”
“Didn’t you get turned into a woman?”
“That’s beside the point!”
“Look, Shitface, show this lady the business card.”
Broderica produced Bleu Louie’s business card and handed it to the woman.
“Dear me. Please excrete my mistake, Mr. Louie, and accept my humblest apologies, I did not realize you were traveling in-cognito, as it were. I should have known this hairy woman spoke the truth of you from your humongous flask, everyone knows Bleu Louie loves nothing more than to get totally shitfaced. Probably why she called you Shitface. Speaking of which, would you rather be addressed as Shitface, or Mr. Louie, Mr. Louie Shitface?”
Broderica belched in shock. Then, she settled herself. “Ehrm. Shitface is fine.”
“Excellent. Alright, Shitface and associates, please follow me to the inner chamber. Your presence is needed immediately.”
“Howsnowsabout a second, misirrah! I did not mean to include these fools in my errand. They can stay outside and lick ostrich puddles for all I care.”
“No need to be polite, Shitface, just because you did not inform the other people in the inner chamber that you were bringing company is no reason to magic guilty and not bring them. They said only the best for Bleu Louie, and if allowing you to waltz around with these two ugly women while also appearing as a woman yourself is what you see as the best, then by cock that’s what you’ll have. Now follow me.”