image [https://i.ibb.co/KqBxYRG/EP-C05.jpg]

The apartment occupied by the six waspnosed sisters was like a college dorm. There was a common area with six doors leading to a separate boudoir and bathroom for each sister. When they first reached the common area Neisseria cast herself upon a divan while her five sisters sat on reclined in recliners, with their heads thrown back and their chins scornfully elevated. Soda stood in a corner. The sisters gave her the stench-eye.

“So,” said Soda, trying to be bold but friendly. “Where’s your TV set?”

“What’s a TV set?” asked Diptheria.

“You know, the machine you hook a V.C.R. up to to watch feature film motion pictures?”

“What’s a feature film motion picture?” asked Pertussia.

It slowly dawned on Soda that they had no such thing as movies or videotapes on the island. Soda felt like she was going to throw up.

"Why are we talking to this twerp!? Slave!" cried Ebola, "fetch me a lice comb!"

"Slave!" cried Varicella, "my butt is itchy, scratch it!"

"Slave!" cried Papilloma, "unfasten my girdle; it’s too tight!"

"Slave!" cried Pertussia, "shave my armpits!”

"Slave!" cried Neisseria, "stand by my side and fan away my farts!”

"Slave!" cried Diptheria, "get out of that chair. How dare you sit in our presence! By recklessly intruding into our domain you have become a slave, and being a slave you must obey us or suffer the consequences!"

"What consequences?" asked Soda.

"Dare to disobey us and you will quickly find out," snapped Diptheria, swaying her head from side to side on its long, swan-like neck, like the pendulum of a clock.

"I don't want any trouble," said Soda, gravely. "We came to Meningioma by mistake, and wanted to go right away again; but your father wouldn't let us. It isn't our fault we're still here. If Chunks were here she’d say you're a very repulsive and horrid lot of people, with no manners to speak of, or you'd treat us nicer."

"Impertinence!" cried Diptheria, savagely.

"Why, it's the truth," replied Soda.

Diptheria made a rush and caught Soda by both shoulders. The angry teenager was twice the tween's size and she shook her victim so violently that Soda's teeth rattled together. Then Papilloma came up and slapped one side of the slave's face and Pertussia ran forward and slapped the other side. Soda’s black framed glasses flew across the room. Ebola gave Soda a push one way and Neisseria pushed her the other way, so the tween was quite out of breath and very angry when finally her punishment ceased. She had not been much hurt, though, and she was wise enough to understand that these sisters were all cruel and vindictive, so that her safest plan was to pretend to obey them. She walked over to her glasses, picked them up, and put them back on.

Soda then combed the lice out of Ebola’s hair, scratched Varicella’s butt, unfastened Papilloma’s girdle, and shaved Petrussia’s armpits, all while fanning away Neisseria’s farts. Then Diptheria shoved Soda over to her fleshy Syrupinia plant, whose long, curved stalks ended in drooping, swollen sacks, each one featuring a distended, dripping nipple. Soda was instructed to milk the sacks into a large jug. Every time Soda squeezed one of the sacks the thick, sticky milk sprayed a different direction, usually in her face or on her shirt and hoodie. Every now and then the plant would let out a grunt or moan.

"Now, then,So-DUMB," commanded Diptheria, "go and feed my little baby queezimp."

"And feed my pretty baby bunion," said Neisseria.

"And feed my goofy baby googoyle," said Papilloma.

"And feed my majestic baby peecock," said Ebola.

"And feed my puffy baby beaver," said Influenza.

"And feed my amniotic baby sloth," said Pertussia.

"Anything else?" asked Soda, drawing a long breath.

"We’ll think of something by the time you’re done properly feeding our pets," replied Neisseria, with a scowl.

Soda hurried away and in the first boudoir she found the little tiny turquoise baby queezimp curled up on a ratty looking stained rug. Soda patted his head gently and this surprised the the gremlin-class yokai, who was accustomed to cuffs and kicks. He licked Sodas hand and gurgled and splurgeled like queezimps do. The girl was delighted- she had always wanted to meet a queezimp- and she found some old meat in a cupboard and fed him out of her hand, patting the baby on the head. The queezimp had never in his life known anyone so kind and gentle, so when Soda went into the next boudoir the animal followed close at her heels.

The turquoise baby bunion was asleep in a ratty looking basket, but it woke- its quills standing straight up- when Soda tenderly took it in her lap and fed it milk from a turquoise dish. It was a pretty bunion and instantly knew the tween was a friend- vastly different from its own bad-tempered mistress- so it sang beautifully, as a nontufted titmouse sings, and both the baby bunion and baby queezimp followed Soda into the third boudoir.

Here was a tiny baby googoyle, like the ones found in the Blecch Pyramid of Fartcano Dominion or Schnozzle Town of Mount El Culo.

"Oh, you darling!" cried Soda, hugging the little googoyle tight in her arms. He was made of snot and boogers but Soda hugged him anyway. The baby monster had never been hugged before and began chattering, just as a dung beetle chatters, only in the most friendly and grateful way, and Soda fed it a handful of fresh gonadberries and petted it until the googoyle was eager to follow her wherever she might go.

When she came to the fourth boudoir a handsome featherless baby peecock sat on a turquoise perch and began groaning as if it were nearly starved. Soda gave it some seeds, and while the peecock ate them she stroked gently its leathery, veiny skin. The bird-class yokai seemed much astonished at the unusual caress, and gazed upon the girl as if trying to discover why she was so kind. It had never experienced kind treatment in all his life. So it was no wonder that when the tween entered the fifth boudoir she was followed by the veiny peecock as well as the baby googoyle, bunion and queezimp, who all stood beside her and watched her feed the hairless, veiny, fluorescent puffed-up baby beaver, which she found strutting around and mewing like a gibbon for his dinner.

The beaver soon came to love Soda as much as the other yokai did, and it wiggled its lumpy rump and followed after her into the next boudoir- the sixth one. As she entered this room Soda gave a start when a high pitched screechy roar greeted her. But there was no lion there; a baby amniotic sloth was making all the noise.

"For goodness sake, keep quiet," said Soda. "Here's a nice turquoise orange. The color seems all wrong, but it may taste just as good as if it was orange."

Evidently it did taste good, for the sloth ate it greedily. When it was not roaring the creature was so cuddly that Soda played with it and fondled it and stroked its membrane for a long time after it had finished eating, and the other five yokai tumbled and rolled around playing with each other. A good time was being had by all but, suddenly, in pounced Diptheria, with a yell of anger.

"So, this is how you waste your time, is it?" exclaimed the waspnosed teenager and grabbing Soda's arm she jerked the girl to her feet and began pushing her from the room. All the pets began to follow her, and seeing this, Diptheria yelled at them to keep back. As they paid no attention to this command the sister seized a basin of water and dashed the fluid over the yokai, after which she renewed her attempt to push Soda from the room. The pets rebelled at such treatment, and believing they ought to protect Soda, whom they knew to be their friend, they proceeded to defend her. The little turquoise baby queezimp dashed at Diptheria and bit her right ankle with his jagged teeth, while the turquoise baby bunion shot quills into her left leg and the turquoise baby peecock flew upon her shoulder and pooped a stream of liquidy poo onto her head.. The turquoise baby googoyle rushed forward and head-butted Diptheria’s leg so that she stumbled forward on her face. She rolled over and the turquoise baby baby beaver bent over and proceeded to slap her face with its flat tail while farting. Diptheria, screaming with fright, sprang to her feet again, but the turquoise baby amniotic sloth slid between her legs and tripped her up. The queezimp gurgled triumphantly as the bunion warbled noisily as the googoyle chattered as the peecock crowed as the beaver howled like a banshee.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Altogether, Diptheria was, as Soda later said, "scared stiff," and she howled for help until her sisters ran in and rescued her, pulling her through the bedroom into the common area.

When she was alone Soda sat down on the floor and laughed until the tears came to her eyes, and she hugged all the pets and kissed them every one and thanked them for protecting her.

The sisters were horrified to find Diptheria so scratched and bitten and defecated on, and they were likewise amazed at the rebellion of their six pets, which they had never petted, indeed, but kept in their boudoirs so they could abuse them whenever they felt especially ill-natured. None of the waspnosed ones dared enter the room where the tween was, but they called through a crack in the door for Soda to come out instantly. Soda, pretending not to hear, paid no attention to these commands.

They all agreed that Soda needed to be punished, and tomorrow they should get do something nasty to her. But none of them could agree what to do. Diptheria wanted to have Soda spliced, and Ebola wanted her beaten with knotted veiny vines, and Papilloma wanted her thrown down a dark well, and Uterissa wanted her to be fed toxic waste, and Neisseria wanted her bound to a windmill, and so between these various desires they quarreled and argued until the dinner bell rang and they seemingly forgot all about Soda.

The Schlingian tween waited until the waspnosed sextette had pranced haughtily away to the banquet hall and then she wiped her hands off on their curtains. Then she went to the door and, after making sure the six wasp-nosed sisters were far away, tiptoed out into the hallway to try to find Chunks and Pucas and eventually found her way to the kitchen, passing many surly slaves as she passed through the hallways.

Chunks the Chunks Golem was delighted to see her dear friend again, and so was Pucas the Mauve Wanderer, and now that they were reunited- for a time, at least- they paid little heed to the stench-eyes and taunting remarks of the other slaves and ate heartily of the dinner, turquoise scroat-meat burritos with warm turquoise sarsaparilla which was really very quite good. Pucas ate too much and threw up.

Zika Zoster was summoned to the chamber of his majesty President Scrumpox, but before he went away he led our friends to the rear of the ranch house, where he gave them a shabby room in the basement with three cots in it. Soda was relieved he hadn’t taken her back to the sisters’ apartment. Zika had a turquoise jumpsuit for her and insisted she changed, bundling up her old clothes and tucking them under his spindly arm.

"I have to go to see Scrumpox. 'll not be gone long,” said Zika Zoster, “for I'm no favorite of the president. Please stay quietly in this room until my return.” He left and the three friends filled each other on everything they had learned while separated. The first thing they shared was their horror of discovering Viralvania had no feature film motion pictures.

The majordomo found the president in a bad temper. When he had retired to his own private room, Scrumpox had decided to send for the toilet plunger he had stolen and test its thaumaturgic powers. But the toilet plunger, in his hands, proved just as common as any other toilet plunger might. He jerked on the intestine a few times and it recoiled back into the tip of the plunger. He shook it and shaked it, and turned it this way and that, commanding it to do all sorts of things. At last the president threw it down and stamped upon it and then kicked it into a corner. Then he sent for Zika Zoster.

"Do you know how to work that dag-blasted toilet plunger?" he asked the majordomo.

"No, sir; I do not," was the reply.

"Well, we’ll torture the freaks tomorrow, and soon as we find out the secret of the toilet plunger. I'm going to try a new sort of splicing- I'll chop off their heads and mix 'em up, putting the wrong head on each of 'em. Ha, ha! Won't it be funny to see the old crazy-quilt’s head on the little puppet boy’s body? Ho, Ho! Now have one of those new slaves come clean all the iguana poo off my boots.”

Zika Zoster went away quite sad and unhappy. He did not approve the way the strangers were being treated and thought it was nefarious and cruel to try to splice them.

When Zika Zoster returned he said to the captives:

"You must be very careful not to anger the president, or he may do you a mischief. Now, one of you must go for the president's boots and shine them and polish them and then take them back to his bedroom.”

"I’ll go," said Soda. She wanted to see more of the ranchion. Zika Zoster showed the girl the way to the president's bedroom. As they proceeded they passed many rooms with closed doors, and before one of these a spliced Viralvanian was pacing up and down in a tired and sleepy way. It was Splurgeslap Splungesplat, the double of the Slapsplurge Splatsplunge Pucas and Chunks had talked with in the servants' hall, and he bowed low before the majordomo.

Zika Zoster whispered: "That is the treasury."

Soda nodded. She realized that’s where the toilet plunger was and marked the place well, so she couldn't miss it if she wanted to find it again.

When they came to the president's room there was another guard before the door, this time a scrawny-necked iguanaboy with a terrible scowl.

"This underling is doing some boot-shining," said Zika Zoster to the guard.

"All right," answered the guard. "Our president is in an ugly mood tonight. It will go badly for this little no neck monster if it doesn't polish the boots properly."

Then Zika Zoster left because he had to go to the bathroom. Soda entered the bedroom, where the president sat drinking a turquoise glass of turquoise whiskey.

"I've come for the boots," said the girl.

The president threw his boots at her head, aiming carefully, but Soda dodged the missiles and one smashed a mirror while the other shattered a vase on a small table. His majesty looked around for something else to throw, considering the turquoise whiskey bottle, but the girl seized the boots and ran away, returning to her own room.

While she polished the boots she told Chunks and Pucas that she found where the toilet plunger was stashed, and asked them to be ready to fly as soon as she returned with it. When she returned the president’s boots she was going to search for the treasury key.

They waited a long time, however, to give the president time to get to sleep, so it was after midnight when Soda finally took the boots in his hand and started for the bedroom. She passed the guard of the treasury- Slapsplurge- and he nodded good-naturedly to the girl. But the sleepy guard before the president's apartments was cross and surly. The iguana boys were always sleepy because whenever they weren’t working they were partying in their bungalow out past the hide barn.

"What are you doing here at this hour?" he demanded.

"I'm returning his majesty's boots," said Soda.

"Go back and wait till morning," commanded the surly iguanaboy.

"If you prevent me from obeying the president's orders," returned the girl, quietly, "he will probably have you spliced."

This threat frightened the long-necked guard, who did not know what orders the president had given.

"Go in, then," said he; "but if you make a noise and waken his majesty, the chances are you'll done get yourself spliced.”

“I'll be quiet," promised the girl.

Indeed, Soda had no desire to waken the president, whom she found snoring lustily with the curtains of his high-posted bed drawn tightly around him. his super best friend, the vice-president, had begun sleeping in a separate room since Scrumpox had begun wetting the bed nightly.

Soda tiptoed carefully into the room, set down the boots very gently and then crept to the chair where his majesty's vest hung. Scarcely daring to breathe, for fear of awakening the terrible president, the tween searched in the pockets until she found a turquoise-gold key attached to a turquoise-gold chain which she slipped into the pocket of her hoodie.

Then Soda crept softly out of the room again, and passed the long-necked guard again, finding the man half asleep, and then made his way to the treasury. Facing Splurgeslap she said to the spliced man, in a serious tone:

"His majesty commands you to go at once to the corridor leading to the apartments of the six waspnosed sisters and to guard the entrance until morning. You are to permit no one to enter or to leave the apartments."

"But- good gracious!" exclaimed the surprised Splurgeslap; "who will guard the treasury?"

"I am to take your place," said Soda.

"Oh, very well," replied Splurgeslap; "You're not much of a guard, seems to me. If anyone tries to rob the treasury you must ring this big gong, which will alarm the whole ranch house and bring the iguanaboys to your assistance. Do you understand?"

"Yes," said Soda.

Then Slapsplurge stalked away to the other side of the ranch house to guard the sisters, and Soda was left alone with the key to the treasury in her hand.

She placed the key in the lock and the bolt turned with a sharp click. Soda did not hesitate. She was afraid, to be sure, and her heart was beating fast with the excitement of the moment, but she knew he must regain the thaumaturgic toilet plunger if she would save her comrades and herself from destruction, for without it they could never return to Bonertania. So she summoned up her best courage, opened the door, stepped quickly inside- and closed the door after her.

A low, fierce growl greeted her.

image [https://i.ibb.co/NnK8w3p/EP-C05-226.jpg]