image [https://i.ibb.co/68dV0T5/ICchapter08new.jpg]
They had not gone very far before the Spork Armadillo, who had run on ahead, came bounding back to say that the road they were looking for was just before them. At once they hurried forward to see what it looked like.
It was a broad road, but not straight, for it wandered over hill and dale and picked out the easiest places to go. All its length and breadth was paved with cobblestones, so it was bumpy except in a few places where the stones had crumbled or been removed, leaving holes that might cause the unwary to stumble.
"I wonder," said Soda the Cursed, looking up and down the road, "which way to go."
"Where are you bound for?" asked Gary.
"The fields around Schmegma City," she replied.
"Then go west," said the jackalope. "I know this road pretty well, for I've chased many a flying scaterpillar over it."
"They say there are many dangers lurking on the road to the great city, and so we must be very careful," said Soda.
"I hope nothing will eat me," said the Spork Armadillo, in a nervous voice. "I know I’m delicious."
"Piddly-Cum-a-Zee" said Chunks. "You look greasy to me."
"And you look like a mismatched mishmosh!" replied the Spork Armadillo.
Chunks wasn’t listening. "Oh, what lovely trees!" she exclaimed.
They were certainly pretty to look upon and the travelers stepped forward to observe them more closely.
"Why, they are not trees at all," said Soda; "they are just monstrous plants."
That is what they really were: masses of great broad leaves which rose from the ground far into the air, until they towered twice as high as the top of the chunks golem's head, who was much taller than Soda. The plants formed rows on both sides of the road and from each plant rose a dozen or more of the big broad leaves, which swayed continually from side to side, although no wind was blowing. But the most curious thing about the swaying leaves was their color. They seemed to have a groundwork of blue, but here and there other colors glinted at times- gorgeous yellows, turning to pink, purple, orange, scarlet, amaranth, taupe, mauve, cerulean blue, and plaid mingled with more sober onyx- each appearing as a blotch or stripe anywhere on a leaf and then disappearing, to be replaced by some other color of a different shape.
The changeful coloring of the great leaves was very beautiful, but it was bewildering, as well, and the novelty of the scene drew our travelers close to the line of plants, where they stood watching them with rapt interest.
Suddenly a leaf bent lower than usual and touched Chunks. Swiftly it enveloped her in its embrace, covering her completely in its thick folds, and then it swayed back upon its stem.
"Yikes!" gasped Soda, in amazement, and listening carefully she thought she could hear the muffled screams of Chunks coming from the center of the folded leaf. But, before she could think what she ought to do to save her, another leaf bent down and captured the Spork Armadillo, rolling around the little creature until she was completely hidden, and then straightening up again upon its stem.
"Look out," cried Gary. "Run! Run fast, or you are lost."
Soda turned and saw the jackalope hopping swiftly up the road. But the last leaf of the row of plants seized the antlered yokai even as he ran and instantly he disappeared from sight.
Soda had no chance to escape. Half a dozen of the great leaves were bending toward her from different directions and as she stood hesitating one of them clutched her in its embrace. In a flash she was in the dark. Then she felt herself gently lifted until she was swaying in the air, with the folds of the moist leaf hugging her on all sides.
At first Soda struggled hard to escape from the leaf, crying out in anger: "Let me go! Let me go!" But neither struggles nor protests had any effect whatever. The leaf held her firmly and she was a prisoner.
Then Soda quieted herself and tried to think. Despair fell upon her when she remembered that all her little party had been captured, even as she was, and there was none to save them.
"I might have expected it," she sobbed, miserably. "I'm Soda the Cursed, and something dreadful was sure to happen to me and my friends."
She pushed against the leaf that held her and found it to be thick and moist and firm. It was like a great bandage all around her and she found it difficult to move her body or limbs in order to change their position.
The minutes passed and became hours. Soda wondered how long one could live in such a condition and if the leaf would gradually sap her strength or maybe even her very life force in order to feed itself. Her greatest fear at this time was that she would always remain imprisoned in the beautiful leaf and never be able to save Uncle Karl.
No sound came to her through the leaf; all around was intense silence. Soda wondered if Chunks had stopped screaming, or if the folds of the leaf prevented her hearing her. By and by she thought she heard a belch, followed by a loud rumbling fart, the another belch, and another, then a series of wet sounding farts Could the plant fart and burp, Soda wondered? Nearer and nearer came the sounds and then they seemed to be just the other side of the leaf that was hugging her.
Suddenly the whole leaf toppled and fell, carrying the tween girl with it, and while she sprawled at full length the folds slowly relaxed and set her free. She scrambled quickly to her feet and found that a strange dingy man was standing before her, farting and burping. He weighed about 300 pounds and had scraggly, oily-looking brown hair and a thick beard. He wore a dingy brown sweater with a scruffy dark brown coat and brown corduroy trousers, a black utility belt and a backpack, all of which were covered in alien feces stains and dirt and probably a lot of boogers.
"Oh!" exclaimed Soda, greatly astonished at the sight of this filthy stranger; and then she added: "Was it you who has saved me, sir?"
"I’m Rumplemuss the Dirty Wanderer, and I saved you with my trusty Glittery Machete brand machete." he replied with a smile. The machete hung from a holster on his utility belt. He was still letting a lot of noisy farts loose.
"Yes; I can see that now," said Soda, rubbing her eyes. "My name is Soda the Cursed. Was it you who rescued me from the leaf?"
"None other, you may be sure. You see, the sounds hypnotize the chododendrons." he said, still farting. "Farting or belching- it doesn't matter which- makes 'em behave, and nothing else will. I always let ‘em rip as I go by 'em and so they always let me alone. Today as I went by, I saw a leaf curled and knew there must be something inside it. I cut down the leaf with my machete and OOF!” He farted for emphasis. “There you were."
"You were very kind," said Soda, "and I thank you. Will you please rescue my companions, also?"
"Of course," burped Rumplemuss, nodding his disheveled head. And then he walked back among the plants, still passing gas, and found the three leaves which were curled around Soda's traveling companions. The first leaf he cut down released Chunks. Then he took off his hat and made her a low bow, saying:
"My dear, you're a wonder. I’m Rumplemuss."
"My name is Chunks." replied Chunks. "You sure smell interesting."
When Rumplemuss cut down the second leaf he rescued the Spork Armadillo, and she was so frightened that she scampered away like a streak and soon had joined Soda, where she sat beside her panting and trembling. The last and largest plant of all the row had captured Gary, and a big bunch in the center of the curled leaf showed plainly where he was. With his machete the Dirty Wanderer sliced off the stem of the leaf and as it fell and unfolded out bounced the jackalope and they escaped beyond the reach of any more of the dangerous plants, where Rumplemuss finally stopped his burps and poots.
Soon the entire party-Soda, Chunks, Gary, Rumplemuss the Dirty Wanderer and the Spork Armadillo- was gathered on the road, quite beyond the reach of the beautiful but treacherous chododendrons. The wanderer, staring first at one and then at the other, seemed greatly pleased and interested.
"I've seen queer things since I came to the Bonertania," said he, "but never anything queerer than this band of adventurers. Let us sit down a while, and have a talk and get acquainted."
"Haven't you always lived in the Bonertania?" asked the Schling girl.
"No; I used to live on Toosh Island, but now I have no nationality. As my friend Jodo once said, I have no definition. And when you are like that, man, miracles start to happen. Maybe it was a miracle that I saved you with my trusty machete."
"How did you get here?" asked Soda, interested.
"I got lost on Toosh and mysteriously found myself somehow on Pus Continent. I went to Schmegma City with Montana Shingles and some other folks, and luckily the tremorroid let me stay."
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
"You know Montana Shingles? Really?" said Soda. "She’s my idol!"
"You have good taste in idols," said Rumplemuss.
"Have you seen ‘The Funderful Thaumaturge of Bonertania’?" asked Soda.
"Five times, twice in 3-D," answered Rumplemuss
"How do you like Schmegma City?" asked Soda. "Is it as cool as I’ve read about?"
"It's the finest city in all of Pus, and I'm happy every minute I live in it," said the Dirty Wanderer. "But every now and then I get the ol’ wanderlust and have to go exploring. So, tell me something about yourselves."
So Soda related the story of her visit to the dome of the Wankensteins, and how she met there the Spork Armadillo, and how Chunks was brought to life with Make Living Concoction and of the terrible accident to Uncle Karl and the Puffy Beaver. Then she told how she had set out to find the five different things which the Chimpanzee Alchemist needed to make a concoction that would restore the piles of vomit to life, one requirement being antlers from a green jackalope's head.
"We found the green jackalope," explained Soda, "and he agreed to give us the antlers; but we couldn't pull them out. So we had to bring him along with us."
"I see," returned the wanderer, who had listened with interest to the story. "But perhaps I, who am big and strong, can pull those antlers from the jackalope's head."
"Try it, if you like," said the green jackalope.
So the wanderer spit on his hands, rubbed them together, and then tried it, but pull as hard as he could he failed to get the antlers out of the jackalope's head. He took out his glittery machete and whacked it against the antlers until Gary begged him to stop. So he sat down again and wiped his reddened face with his light blue handkerchief and said:
"It doesn't matter. If you can keep the ‘lope until you get the rest of the things you need, you can take him and his antlers to the chimp and let him find a way to extract them. What are the other things you are to find?"
"One," said Soda, "is a stench blossom."
"You ought to find that in the fields around Schmegma City," said the Dirty Wanderer while scratching his butt. "There is a law against picking stench blossoms, but I bet I can get the tremorroid to let you have one."
"The next thing I must find," said Soda, "is a shicker of diarrhea from a dark well."
"Indeed! Well, that is more difficult," said the wanderer, scratching his left ear in a puzzled way. "I've never heard of a dark diarrhea well; have you?"
"No," said Soda.
"Do you know where one may be found?" inquired the wanderer.
"I can't imagine," said Soda.
"Then we must ask the Ratsack Golem. He is one of my wisest friends."
"You know the Ratsack Golem too!" exclaimed Soda.
"Piddily-Cum-a Zat, who or what is that?" asked Chunks
"He’s a golem like you, but instead of being a stitched-and-stapled-together pile of chunks he’s a burlap sack full of rats," explained Soda.
"But surely a sack of rats can't know anything," said the Spork Armadillo.
"Most sacks of rats don't, I admit," answered the Dirty Wanderer. "But this sack of rats of whom I speak is very intelligent. If anyone knows where a dark well is, it's my friend Ratsack."
"Where does he live?" inquired Soda.
"In Mukus Quadrant to the west of here, although he is often to be found in Schmegma City, where he visits his friends at Videotape Palace."
"Then we will ask him about the dark well," said Soda.
"But what else does this chimp want?" asked the Dirty Wanderer.
"A drop of oil from a live man's body."
"Oh; well that’s obviously referring to Cydroidobot."
Chunks was standing on her head and said "Piddily-Cum-a-Zup, that clears that one up."
"You’re beautiful, Chunks. All you lack is dignity."
"I hate dignity," cried Chunks, doing a somersault and then jumping to her feet. "Half the fools and all the wise folks are dignified, and I'm neither the one nor the other."
"She's just crazy," explained the Spork Armadillo.
The Dirty Wanderer laughed.
“So you know Montana Shingle, the Ratsack Golem, AND Cydroidobot?” asked Soda, stunned.
“Aw, I ain’t no namedropper, but yes, I am well acquainted with all three stars of ‘The Funderful Thaumaturge of Bonertania’. So, what else do you need for this concoction?
"The next thing on the list is the toenail of a Quantum Perineum,” said Soda.
"Hmmm. I once heard Cydroidobot speak of a perineum, and I believe he said it was quantum. We’ll have to ask him about it when we go get the drop of oil. I'm sure Cy will do all in his power to help you to save your unfortunate Uncle Karl and the poor Puffy Beaver."
Chunks was doing jumping jacks. The Dirty Wanderer looked at her.
"She's delightful, in her way," he said. "I'm sure Mono- that’s what I call Montana Shingles- will be pleased with her, and Ratsack will dote on her. Did you say you were traveling toward Schmegma?"
"Yes," replied Soda. "I thought that the best place to go, at first, because the stench blossom may be found around there."
"I'll go with you," said the wanderer, "and show you the way."
"Thank you," exclaimed Soda. "I hope it won't put you out any."
"No," said the other, "I wasn't going anywhere in particular. It will interest me to accompany you to the city and introduce you to my friends."
"That will be very nice," said Soda, gratefully.
"I hope your friends are not dignified," said Chunks.
"Some are, and some are not," he answered; "but I never criticize my friends. If they are really true friends, they may be anything they like, as far as I’m concerned."
"There's some sense in that," said Chunks, nodding her queer head in approval. "Come on, and let's get to Schmegma City as soon as possible." With this she ran up the path, skipping and dancing, and then turned to await them.
"It is quite a distance from here to Schmegma City," remarked Rumplemuss, "so we shall not get there today, nor tomorrow. Therefore let us take the jaunt in an easy manner. I'm an old wanderer and have found that I never gain anything by being in a hurry. 'Take it easy' is my motto. If you can't take it easy, take it as easy as you can."
Soda said she was hungry and would stop to eat some alien feces. She offered a portion of the food to the Dirty Wanderer, who thanked her but refused it.
"When I start out on my travels," said Rumplemuss, while picking his nose, "I carry along enough square meals to last me several weeks. Think I'll indulge in one now, as long as we're stopping anyway."
Saying this, he took a bottle from his pocket and shook from it a tablet about the size of one of Soda's finger-nails.
"That," announced the wanderer, "is a square meal, in condensed form. An invention of the great genius B.M. Foulfinger. This particular pill contains alien feces soup, a slice of wazzfish, roast nutberries, cockadoodoo-dumplings, squirrelbuns smothered in clumpy gravy, and scabbage ice cream, all boiled down to this small size, so it can be conveniently carried and swallowed when you are hungry and need a square meal."
"I'm hungry," said Gary. "Give me one, please."
So the wanderer gave the jackalope a tablet from his bottle and the furry green yokai ate it in a twinkling.
"You have now had a six course dinner," declared the wanderer.
"Pshaw!" said Gary, ungratefully, "I want to taste something. There's no fun in that sort of eating."
"One should only eat to sustain life," replied the wanderer, "and that tablet is equal to a peck of other food."
"I don't care for it. I want something I can chew and taste," grumbled Gary.
"You are quite wrong, my poor man," said Rumplemuss in a tone of pity. "Think how tired your jaws would get chewing a square meal like this, if it were not condensed to the size of a small tablet- which you can swallow in a jiffy."
"Chewing isn't tiresome; it's fun," maintained the green jackalope. "I always chew the flying scaterpillars when I catch them. Give me some of that feces, Soda."
"No, no! You've already eaten a big dinner!" protested Rumplemuss.
"Maybe," answered Gary; "but I guess I'll fool myself by slurping down some of this purple slop. I may not be hungry, having eaten all those things you gave me, but I consider this eating business a matter of taste, and I like to realize what's going into me."
Soda gave the yokai what he wanted, but the Dirty Wanderer shook his rumpled head reproachfully and said there was no creature so obstinate or hard to convince as a green jackalope.
During the afternoon the travelers found themselves in a lonely and uninhabited part of the country. Even the fields were no longer cultivated and the country began to resemble a wilderness. The cobblestones seemed to have been neglected and became uneven and more difficult to walk upon. Scrubby black scrubberies and poison chokeberry bushes grew on either side of the way, and blue rocks were scattered around in abundance.
But this did not deter Soda and her friends from trudging on, and they beguiled the journey with jokes and cheerful conversation. Toward evening they reached a yellow spring which gushed from an balnut-shaped hole in the rock by the roadside and near this yellow spring stood a deserted quonset hut. Said Rumplemuss, halting here:
"We may as well pass the night here, where there is shelter for our heads and good water to drink. Road beyond here is pretty bad; worst we shall have to travel; so let's wait until morning before we tackle it."
They agreed to this and Soda found some brushwood in the hut and made a fire. The fire delighted Chunks, who danced before it until Soda warned her she might set fire to her dress and burn up. After that Chunks kept at a respectful distance from the darting flames, but Gary lay down before the fire like a big puppy dog and seemed to enjoy its warmth.
For supper the wanderer ate one of his tablets, but Soda stuck to her purple alien feces as the most satisfying food. She also gave a portion to Gary.
When darkness came on and they sat in a circle on the quonset hut floor- there being no furniture of any sort in the place- Soda said to the wanderer:
"Won't you tell us a story?"
"I'm not good at stories," was the reply; "but I sing like a bird."
"Titmouse, dickcissel, peacock, or cockadoodoo?" asked Chunks. "Or the throat warbler mangrove?"
"Like a non-tufted titmouse. I'll prove it. I'll sing a song I composed myself. Don't tell anyone I'm a poet; they might want me to write a book. Don't tell 'em I can sing, or they'd want me to make audiotapes. And don’t tell ‘em I play the accordion or they’ll beat the krud out me. Anyhoo, I'll just sing you this little ditty for your own amusement."
He pulled a tiny squeeze box out of his backpack and the others were glad enough to be entertained, and listened with interest while the wanderer sung a twenty-seven verse song about his adventures with Montana Shingles and all the bizarre characters he’d met, such as Nobgoblin the Royal Thaumaturge, Pucas the Mauve Wanderer, Jo the Voracious Rhinoceros, Bruce the Retiring Ocelot, Gashmouth the Chainsaw Raccoon, Cockadoody the Cocky Cockadoodoo, Edwige Kenchington, Crassgass the Jackass, Zanghi T. Zygote, B.M. Foulfinger and Nate Goiterhead. The song ended thusly:
“To name all of the mutants that Bonertania has acquired,
Twould make my song so very long that you would soon be tired.
Just search all of Sifillis over, sail the seas from coast to coast,
No other nation in creation queerer folks can boast,
And now our motley crew includes a ‘dillo made of Spork,
A jackalope, a pretty girl, and one crazy stitchwork dork."
Soda was so pleased with this song that she applauded the singer by clapping her hands, but Chunks was offended at being called a dork. The armadillo clattered on the floor with her claws- and Gary, who had been asleep, woke up to ask what the row was about.
"I seldom sing in public," remarked Rumplemuss, who was pleased to know his effort was appreciated. "My voice, just now, is a little out of training; rusty, perhaps. Too much roachberry." He let out a stinky belch and put his squeezebox back in his backpack.
"Tell me," said Chunks earnestly, "do all those queer people you mention really live in Bonertania?"
"Every one of 'em. I even forgot one: Elvira Daisy Shingles, Mono’s brown and white half-Jack Russel/Half-Shih Tzu puppy dog with a pair of glistening antennae."
"Would a puppy dog ever eat a Spork Armadillo?"
"Might. You never can tell," said Rumplemuss.
The armadillo gulped.
Then they all went to sleep, except for Chunks and the Spork Armadillo. They stayed up all night, the armadillo describing different movies Chunks had never heard of.
image [https://i.ibb.co/w6rDz9P/108SMALL.jpg]