image [https://i.ibb.co/2F8My0f/Titi-Chapter13.jpg]

“It seems to me,” began the Ratsack Tremorroid, when all were again assembled in the throne room, “that Earwax is quite right in claiming to be the tremorroid. And if she is right, then I am wrong, and I have no business sitting on the videotape throne.”

“But you were the tremorroid until she came,” said B.M. Foulfinger, his hands clasped behind his back as his tiny tentacles ferried back and forth around the throne room. “so it appears to me that she is the interloper instead of you.”

“Especially as we have just conquered her. Cydroidobot threw her out the window,” added Titi.

“But have we really conquered her?” asked the Ratsack Tremorroid, quietly. “Look out of the window, and tell me what you see.”

Titi ran to the window and looked out. He was hit in the face by a pile of non-alien feces.

“The palace is surrounded by thousands of ferocious teenagers, mostly gremlin-class yokai,” he announced. “They’re catapulting piles of non-alien feces at us.”

“Non-alien feces!? Gross!!” retched Foulfinger.

“I surmised as much,” returned the Ratsack Tremorroid. “I don’t think we could escape on the raccoon like last time, as there are so many more of them and they’re much better armed now, having raided my weapon stashes. We truly trapped in here.”

“Ratsack is right,” said Cydroidobot, as he picked his machete up off the floor and slid it back into his wrist.

“Earwax is still the tremorroid, and we are her prisoners.” said Titi, wiping the non-alien feces off his face with a light blue handkerchief.

“But I hope she cannot get at us,” exclaimed Nate Goiterhead, with a shiver of fear. “She threatened to make goiter tarts of me, you know.” The one-legged garbage golem was still lashed tight to the Chainsaw Raccoon’s vertical-pointing tail.

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“Don’t worry,” said the raccoon. “It cannot matter greatly. If you stay shut up here your head will spoil in time, anyway.”

Nate yelped.

“A good tart is far more admirable than a decayed intellect,” said Foulfinger consolingly.

“Very true,” agreed the Ratsack Tremorroid.

“Oh, dear!” moaned Nate; “what an unhappy lot is mine! Why, dear father, did you not make me out of molybdenum- or even a sack- so that I would keep indefinitely.”

“Shucks!” returned Titi, indignantly. “You ought to be glad that I made you at all.” Then he added, reflectively, “Everything has to come to an end, some time.”

“But I beg to remind you,” broke in B.M. Foulfinger, who had a distressed look in his bulging round eyes, “that this terrible Tremorroid Earwax suggested making a sandwiches of me- Me! The only highly big-made and thoroughly educated emancipated finger in all of Sifilis!”

“I think it was a brilliant idea,” remarked the Chainsaw Raccoon.

“Don’t you imagine he would make a better soup?” asked Cydroidobot, turning toward his new friend who was sort of his son since he originally carved the bench that was itself.

“Well, perhaps,” acknowledged the bench.

The finger groaned. Then he farted low and mournfully.

“I see very clearly that we cannot stay shut up in this empty palace,” said the Ratsack Tremorroid, with decision. “So let us end this mournful talk and try to discover a means to escape.”

“First, however,” said Nate Goiterhead, “I beg you will release me from this raccoon, and make me another leg to walk with. For in my present condition I am of no use to myself or to anyone else.”

So they untied the intestines that held Nate to the fleshwood raccoon’s vertically-pointing tail. The raccoon stretched out his back and let out a long, deep, relieved sigh.

Then there was a montage showing all the friends working together to make Nate a new leg.

“How do you feel?” asked Titi, watching Nate stomp around to try his new foot.

“As good as new!” answered Nate, joyfully. Then his other mannequin leg, the one with its original foot, bent backwards at the knee and snapped, sending Nate toppling to the floor. Titi sighed.

Thus began a second montage showing all the friends working together to make Nate a new leg.

“Now how do you feel now?” Titi asked Nate as the garbage golem pulled his pants back on.

“Better than ever!” answered Nate, joyfully. This his left hand fell off, followed by his right arm, then his left arm. Then his torso separated from his mannequin lower half and tipped over and fell to the floor, which caused his goiter head to come loose and roll across the floor.

Titi sighed, and many more montages ensued.

image [https://i.ibb.co/QCpbYqg/117small.jpg]