image [https://i.ibb.co/kJ8F6CX/118.jpg]
The next morning Nate Goiterhead stood in the doorway of his house and waved goodbye to his old friends and new friends. Then he went back inside and watched a feature film motion picture about a cocksure halibut who hunts down and kills mutated were-otters on behalf of a shadowy government agency. It was a musical.
Soda, Mono, Vira, Chunks, and Ratsack left Goiterhead Farm and headed south on their bikes towards Quirk Quadrant. After they rolled through the farmlands and factories they entered a theater district, followed by another theater district and then a third. Then, after riding for several hours, they rode for nine weeks, always heading south towards the lumpy brown mountains in the distance. Although Soda was still enchanted by hanging out with her idol Montana Shingles she was finding it more and more annoying that they were constantly coming across kingdoms, provinces, communes and municipalities that were undergoing some sort of crises and Montana, in her role as Vice-Tremorroid of Bonertania, had to intervene, costing them valuable traveling time. They had already stopped a hair drought in a valley inhabited by large public crabs. Then there was a community of turgid eyeballs who were renting Count Wacula’s old tower. It was plagued by the spirits of the count’s victims so our friends had to bust some ghosts. The next village had a corrupt jester election and while they did a recount Montana had to stand in as jester-in-chief. And then there was a beached lake serpent- Montana had to seek out thaumaturgic squishball cards to trade for an enchanted forklift to get it back in the water.
Eventually they reached the jagged brown mountains, and left their bikes leaning against some fleshtrees. Then they started exploring the rocky terrain. After a few days of spelunking they soon found it hard climbing, for the rocks were uneven and full of sharp points and edges.
Clambering here and there among the boulders they kept steadily on. Vira could jump from one rock to another quite easily, but the others had to creep and climb with care, so that after a whole day of such work Montana and Soda found themselves very tired. At one point they stopped for a pee break.
After urinating they gazed upward at the great mass of tumbled rocks that covered the steep incline, Montana gave a little groan and said:
"That's going to be a terrible hard climb. I wish we could find the dark diarrhea well without so much climbing and spelunking."
"Suppose," said Soda, "you wait here and let me do the spelunking, cuz it’s my fault we're searching for the well. Then, if I don't find anything, I'll come back and join you."
"No," replied the chubby young lady, shaking her head, "We'll all spelunk together, for that way we can help each other. If you spelunked alone, something might happen to you, Soda."
So they began the climb and found it indeed difficult, for a way. But presently, in creeping over the big crags, they found a path at their feet which wound in and out among the masses of rock and was quite smooth and easy to walk upon. As the path gradually ascended the mountain, although in a roundabout way, they decided to follow it.
"This must be the road to the feetniks’ town," said Chunks.
"Who are the feetniks?" asked Soda.
"Some yokai Nate Goiterhead told us about while you were asleep," explained Chunks. "He said that he heard that the feetniks and the nostril goblins live on this mountain- Mount El Culo."
"He said in the mountain," declared the Ratsack Golem; "but of course he must’ve meant on it."
"Did he say if the feetniks and nostril goblins were nice?" inquired Soda.
"Nope, he only mentioned them in passing."
"Well, if we go to their country we'll find out all about them," said Montana. "But I've never heard Titiana mention those people, so they must be pretty far off the grid. Lots of queer people live in places so tucked away that those in Schmegma City never even hear of them. In the middle of the country it's different, but when you get around the edges you're sure to run into strange little corners that surprise you. I know, for Titiana, Vira and I have wandered in Bonertania a good deal, and so has Ratsack."
"Yes," admitted the bag full of rats, "I've been a considerable wanderer in my time, and I like to explore queer places. I find I learn much more by traveling than by staying at home, and I get to see a wider variety of feature film motion pictures."
Suddenly they stopped, because the path ended and there was no place to go. Ahead was a big rock lying against the side of the mountain, and this blocked the way completely.
"There wouldn't be a path, though, if it didn't go somewhere," said the Ratsack Golem.
"This is somewhere, isn't it?" asked Chunks, laughing at the bewildered looks of the others.
"Ah, laughter," began the Ratsack Golem. "To laugh is to dislodge what hurts or tortures us. Laughter distances us from our inner conflicts and unties the knots. It helps momentarily. It opens the levees and portions out happiness for a few moments. It works as well as a sneeze: quick and liberating."
"Uh-huh," said Chunks. Then she added:
"Piddily-Cum-a-Zocked, the path is locked, the way is blocked, Yet here we've flocked; and now that we're here it's rather queer there's no front door to be knocked."
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
"Please don't rhyme so much, Chunks," said Soda. "You make me nervous."
As she spoke Montana leaned against the edge of the big rock that stood in their way. To her surprise it slowly swung backward and showed behind it a drafty dark hole that looked like the mouth of a tunnel.
"Why, here's where the path goes to!" Soda exclaimed.
"So it is," answered the Ratsack Golem. "But the question is, do we want to go where the path does?"
"It's underground; right inside the mountain," said Montana, peering into the dank hole. "Perhaps there's a diarrhea well in there; and, if there is, it's sure to be a dark one."
"Why, that's true enough!" cried Soda with eagerness.
Elvira Daisy Shingles the Antennaed Puppy Dog Yokai looked in and yipped, but she did not venture to enter until Montana had bravely gone first. Soda followed closely and then Chunks and Ratsack stepped inside the tunnel. As soon as all of them had passed the big rock, it slowly turned and filled up the opening again; but now they were no longer in the dark, for a soft, blueish-purpley light enabled them to see around them quite distinctly.
It was a ziggy-zaggy passage, wide enough for two of them to walk abreast- and it had a high, arched roof. They could not see where the light which flooded the place so pleasantly came from, for there were no lamps anywhere visible.
After proceeding some distance, Vira, who had gone on ahead, began to yip loudly. They ran around a bend to see what was the matter and found an indigo yokai laying on the floor of the passage, leaning his head against the wall. He had probably been asleep before Vira's barks aroused him, for he was now rubbing his eyes and staring at the little puppy dog with all his might.
He wore a black turtleneck sweater, sunglasses, and a beret. He had four arms, each one with its fingernails painted black. He had but one veiny, stubbly, wart covered leg, set just below the middle of his torso with an enormous lumpy bare foot at the bottom of it. Soda noticed with distaste his toenails were all yellow and crumbly.
When he sat up he pet Vira friendily. “Don’t zonk me, little pilgrim!” Vira yipped and tried to lick his mouth.
"Do you surrender?" Montana asked the man.
"Who? Me?" asked the four-armed, one-legged yokai.
"Yes; you," said the vice-tremorroid.
"Am I captured?" he inquired.
"Of course. My puppy dog Elvira Daisy Shingles has captured you in the name of Bonertania, of which I am the vice-tremorroid," she said.
"Drag," he sighed, getting to his foot.
"Please tell us who you are."
"I'm Hep. Hep Hopcat the Champion."
"Champion what?" Montana asked in surprise.
"Champion filmmaker. I am quite known among feetniks as the most gifted manipulator of the cinematic arts.”
"Oh, you’re a feetnik?" Soda asked.
"Yes. My fellow cats and kittens are jungled up in a coo-coo place not far from here called Galaxy City. Would you like to check it out?"
Our friends said they would and followed Hep deeper into the mountain. Vira trotted at his heel.
"Have you any dark diarrhea wells in your city?" asked Soda as the indigo movie director led them towards the city.
"I think not, but there may be such a thing as a very dark diarrhea well in dullsville, I mean, Schnozzle Town."
"Where is Schnozzle Town?" Soda inquired.
"The other side of El Culo. There's a fence between our county and Schnozzle Town, and a gate in the fence; but you can't pass through just now, because we are at war with those mucous factories. Those squares are slated for crashville, baby."
"Why are you at war with the goblins?" asked Soda.
"One of those cretins made a very uncool and denigrating remark about feetniks.”
Hep hopped so swiftly that those with two legs had to run to keep up with him. It was not long before they left the passage and came to a great cave which smelled like sweaty cottage cheese and was so high that it must have reached nearly to the top of the mountain within which it lay. It was a magnificent cave, illumined by the soft, invisible light, so that everything in it could be plainly seen. The walls were of polished stone, lavender with veins of purple and blue running through it, and the roof was arched with elaborate murals painted upon it.
Built beneath this vast dome was a pretty village- not very large, for there seemed not more than sixty buildings, including one single-screen movie theater, one video store, and twenty-seven coffee houses. Many buildings had beautiful mosaics comprised of large painted toenail clippings and they all had enormous mud butlers beside their front doors.
On the sidewalks were many feetniks, all having one naked, stubbly, warty leg growing below their bodies and all hopping here and there whenever they moved. Even the children stood firmly upon their single legs and never lost their balance. Everyone was wearing berets and black turtlenecks and sunglasses, and several had van dykes or goatees.
"All hail, the kookie champion!" cried an aquamarine feetnik in the first group of folks they met; he waved at Hep with his two left arms, "whom have you captured?"
"No one, Phalanx," replied Hep in a gloomy voice; "these cats have captured me, man."
"Then," said another, "we’ll rescue you, and capture them. There’s way more of us."
"No, Phalange," answered Hep, "I can't allow it. I've surrendered, and it isn't cool to capture those you've surrendered to."
"Never mind that," said Montana. "We hereby set you free,”
"No lie, chickie?" asked Hep.
"Yes," said Montana; "your people may need you to help conquer the nostril goblins."
At this all the feetniks looked downcast and sad. Several more had joined the group by this time and quite a crowd of curious men, women and children surrounded the strangers.
"This war with our neighbors is a total nongroove," remarked one of the female feetniks. "Some one is almost sure to get dusted."
"Why do you say that, madam?" inquired the Ratsack Golem.
"Because the slimy green prickers of our enemies are sharp and gross, none of us wants to get penetrated by one of those germsticks," she replied.
"That makes a war with those murgatroids no hootenanny,” added Hep. The woman continued:
"We never butt heads with them if we can help it, on account of their uncool prickers; but this insult was so great and so unprovoked that really blew our jets," said the woman.
“What was the insult?” asked Soda.
“The nostril goblin said that we feetniks had less understanding than them.”
There was silence for a beat.
"What weapons do you fight with?" asked the Ratsack Golem.
"We ain’t got no hot irons or nothing," explained Hep. "When we fight the nostril goblins, our plan is to push them back, for our four arms are longer than their two."
"Then you are better armed," said Chunks. The Ratsack Golem giggled at this, then he said:
"I see very clearly that you are going to have trouble in conquering those goblins- unless we help you."
"Oh!" cried the feetniks in a chorus and they all started snapping their fingers; "can you help us? We’d totally dig that! Groove central, sackman! We would like it very much!"
"How far is it to Schnozzle Town?" he asked.
"Why, it's just the other side of the fence," they answered, and Hep added:
"Come with me, please, and I'll show you these oozing green cubes."
image [https://i.ibb.co/mBjk4zP/118small.jpg]