image [https://i.ibb.co/2qPcyd8/Titi-Chapter16.jpg]When the last feathered foe had disappeared Titi crawled from under the ill-gotten goods with some rancid moldy salad dressing on his head and shoulders. He then helped B.M. Foulfinger to extricate himself from the pile.
“We are saved!” shouted the Plotzian boy, delightedly.
“We are, indeed!” responded B.M. Foulfinger, hugging the stiff head of the Humpty Hump Dumpster in his joy. “and we owe it all to the flopping of the Humpster, and the glistening blades of the Robotic Emperor!”
“Pffft.” said the taxidermied head.
“If I am saved, get me out of here!” called Nate; whose head was still beneath the pile of wet newspapers and red-dusted diamonds; Titi managed to roll the goiter out and place it upon its neck again. He and Foulfinger also set the Chainsaw Raccoon upright, and Titi said to them:
“We owe you many thanks for the gallant fight you made.” The raccoon’s gashed mouth almost smiled.
“I really think we have escaped very nicely,” remarked Cydroidobot, in a tone of pride.
“How are we going to get out of this nest?” asked Titi.
While the others were talking Ratsack had been inspecting the empty snuff box that had fallen out of Titi’s pocket and bounced to the ground when the Humpty Hump Dumpster made its great fall.
“This box has two bottoms,” announced the burlap golem, “for the bottom on the inside is fully an inch away from the bottom on the outside. Yes, the thing certainly has a false bottom. Now, I wonder what that is for?”
“Can’t you get it apart, and find out?” inquired Titi, now quite interested in the mystery.
“Why, yes; I think the lower bottom unscrews,” said the sack of rats, and he fumbled with the box with his burlap fingers. Titi took it from him and unscrewed the bottom. And in the cavity below was a dead silver pill bug, with a carefully folded paper lying underneath it.
This paper Titi proceeded to unfold, taking care not to drop the pill bug, and found several lines clearly written in red ink.
“Read it aloud,” said Ratsack. So Titi read, as follows:
“DR. FRANK WANKENSTEIN’S CELEBRATED WISHING PILL BUG.
Directions for Use: Swallow bug. Make a wish. The wish will immediately be granted.
CAUTION: Keep in a Dry and Dark Place.
Side effects may include: Feeling agitated, shaky, anxious, sick, dizzy, confused, agitated, bloated, disorientated; dry mouth, blurring of vision, drowsiness, weight gain, weight loss, excessive sweating, excessive drooling, indigestion, stomach cramps, sizzling sharts, chronic explosive diarrhea, syrupy urine, loss of appetite, loss of libido, loss of hair, toenail shrinkages, sour pancreas, liverspots on your liver, arrhythmia, tachydardia, muscle twitching, shivering, seizures, astral projection, unconsciousness, too much consciousness, depression, euphoria, paranoia, and shingles.”
“Why, this is a very valuable discovery!” cried Cydroidobot.
“I wonder if old Gonorrena knew it was in the bottom of the snuff box,” commented Titi. “I remember hearing her say that she got the Make Living Concoction from this same Dr. Wankenstein.”
“He must be a powerful alchemist!” exclaimed Cydroidobot; “and since the concoction proved a success we ought to have confidence in the wishing pill bug.”
“Seems kind of weird he’d hide away something so powerful and then just give it away,” remarked Titi.
“He probably forgot it was in there. I bet he’ll be kicking himself!” said the Chainsaw Raccoon.
“We could wish for anything,” said B.M. Foulfinger. “Except wishing for more wishes, everyone knows that technology is decades away.” Everyone silently contemplated what they could use the pill bug for.
“I know! We could wish that the Humpty Hump Dumpster was mended!” said Titi. They all agreed that was a good idea.
“I will make the wish,” said Titi, popping the dead insect into his mouth. Immediately the Plotzian tween began to suffer such fearful pains that he became alarmed.
“The pill bug has poisoned me!” he gasped; “OH! OUCH Ouch, murder! Gut fire! Yowza!” and here he rolled upon the bottom of the nest in such contortions that he frightened them all.
“What can we do for you, Titi? Speak, I beg!” entreated Nate Goiterhead.
“I- I don’t know!” answered Titi. “Oh! I just had a sizzling shart! And I’m sweating like crazy but I’m freezing cold! My hands are numb and my nipples seem to be-- Oh, I wish I’d never swallowed that pill bug!”
Then at once the pain stopped, and the boy rose to his feet again. Ratsack picked the snuff box up from the bottom of the nest and looked with amazement at the end of the container.
“What’s happened?” asked the boy, a little ashamed of his recent exhibition.
“Why, the pill bug is back in the box again!” said Ratsack.
“Of course it is,” B.M. Foulfinger declared. “Didn’t Titi wish that he’d never swallowed it? Well, the wish came true, and he didn’t swallow it. So of course it is back in the box. I suppose it remains for me to save us in my most highly big-made and thoroughly educated manner; for I seem to be the only one with the ability to swallow. Let me have the bug.”
He swallowed it without hesitation, and they all stood admiring his courage. And for some reason- perhaps because fingers have stronger stomachs than boys- the silver insect caused him no pain whatever, he just got the sizzling sharts.
“I wish the Humpty Hump Dumpster’s broken body mended, and as good as new!” said the finger, in a slow; impressive voice.
All turned to look at the Humpty Hump Dumpster, and so quickly had the wish been granted that the Humpty Hump Dumpster lay before them in perfect repair, and as well able to fly through the air as when it had first been brought to life on the flying saucer landing pad of Videotape Palace.
“Hip hop hooray ho!” shouted Ratsack, gaily. “We can now leave this miserable nest whenever we please.”
“But it’s still dark out,” said Cydroidobot; “and unless we wait until morning to make our escape we may get into more scrapes.”
So it was decided to wait until daylight, and the adventurers amused themselves by searching the titmouse nest for treasures by the brown moonlight. Titi read the backs of as many videotape boxes as he could find. Foulfinger found several groovy medallions which he threw into the Humpty Hump Dumpster. Cydroidobot found a kitchen magnet that said “Zum Zum! I raised hell with my landlord!”. He stuck it to his chest next to one of his nipples. Darkness soon fell upon them, and Titi and Foulfinger went to sleep while the others sat down and the burlap golem laid some quiet philosophy on them:
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“Jodo told me that in this world there are two ways of living: Living in shame or living in consciousness. The man who lives ‘in shame’ is concerned with what people say about him. The shameful man is afraid of criticism and acts different in private than in public. The man who lives ‘in consciousness’ is only concerned with acting in integrity, in accordance with his convictions. He is his own judge, and his attitude in private is the same as in public. He does not live for ‘What people say’ but for the realization of ‘the great work.’ This man of consciousness is more afraid of himself than others.”
“Uh-huh,” said Nate Goiterhead.
The next morning Foulfinger woke up in a kruddy mood, he had had a rough night. He had the cold sweats for hours and several times had to sloppily defecate or vomit over the side of the nest.
Soon a great flock of ferocious tufted titmice approached to engage in one more battle for the possession of the nest. This time they brought billyclubs and blackjacks.
But our adventurers did not wait for the assault. They tumbled into the dumpster as quickly as possible, and Titi gave the word to the Humpty Hump Dumpster’s head to get the lead out.
At once it rose into the air, the great ironing board wings flopping strongly and with regular motions, and in a few moments they were so far from the nest that the chattering titmice took possession without any attempt at pursuit.
The Humpty Hump Dumpster flew south. After passing over several cities and villages and junkyards full of rusting automobiles and iguana skeletons the Humpty Hump Dumpster carried them high above a patchy fields of monkey face orchids.
Titi exclaimed, “Look! We must have reached Quirk Quadrant!”
Immediately they all leaned over the edge of the dumpster to look- all except Nate, who was too careful of his goiter head to risk its slipping off his neck. Sure enough; the blood-red foliage indicated they were within the domain of Empress Nobgoblin; and presently, as they glided rapidly on, Cydroidobot recognized the roads and theaters they passed, and altered slightly the flight of the Humpty Hump Dumpster so that they might reach the trailer park of the celebrated- and sultry- thaumaturge.
Gradually the Humpty Hump Dumpster sank lower and nearer to the ground until at length it came to rest within the beautiful roachberry gardens of the Smelsinore Trailer Park, settling upon a velvety red lawn close by a fountain in the shape of a burst zit which sent sprays of flashing blood-red and pus-yellow dusted diamonds- instead of water- high into the air, whence they fell with a soft, tinkling sound into the carved porcelain bowl placed to receive them. There were about three hundred trailers in this compound but Nobgoblin’s was the grandest. It was actually several large trailers connected by a series of tubes. One of the tubes led to an enormous walk-in theater with a 9000 inch TV inside.
Suddenly a company of soldiers silently appeared and surrounded them. But these soldiers of the great thaumaturge were entirely different from those of Rebekkah Earwax’s S.C.U.M. Army. For one they were not teenagers but college age ladies, and Nobgoblin’s soldiers wore neat armored uniforms and bore scimitars and machine guns and sharpened petrified poo sticks; and they marched with a skill and precision that proved them well trained in the arts of war.
The kommandant commanding this troop was a beautiful blonde lady wearing a helmet with wings on it. She recognized Ratsack and Cydroidobot at once, and greeted them with respectful salutations.
“Good day, Kommandant Petasse!” said Ratsack, while the Robotic Emperor gave a soldierly salute; “we have come to request an audience with your fair and foxy ruler.”
“Empress Nobgoblin is now within her majestic trailer headquarters, awaiting you,” returned Petasse; “for she saw you coming long before you arrived.”
“That is whack-a-doodle!” said Titi, wondering how Nobgoblin knew.
“Not at all,” answered Ratsack, “for Nobgoblin is a mighty thaumaturge, and not much that goes on in Pus escapes her notice. I suppose she knows why we came as well as we do ourselves.”
“Super genius!” exclaimed B.M. Foulfinger.
“If the thaumaturge expects us,” said Cydroidobot, “we must not keep her waiting.”
So they all clambered out of the dumpster and followed Kommandant Petasse, even the Chainsaw Raccoon taking his place in the queer procession.
In her home theater, lounging upon a plush recliner sat Nobgoblin, wearing a black spaghetti-string tank top, grey pajama pants, and dark green flip-flops, topped with a green bathrobe. The thaumaturge could scarcely repress a smile as her peculiar visitors entered and bowed before her. Both Ratsack and Cydroidobot she knew and liked; but the awkward goiter-headed marionette and pompous educated emancipated finger were creatures she had never seen before. The Chainsaw Raccoon bowed so stiffly that his head bumped against the floor, causing a ripple of laughter among the soldiers, in which Nobgoblin frankly joined. She also gave a warm welcome to Titi, giving him a hug and holding him tight against her ample bosom. Titi farted nervously.
“I beg to announce to your glorious highness,” began Ratsack, in a solemn voice, “that Schmegma City has been overrun by the S.C.U.M. Army. They forced me off the videotape throne. Oh, and also: They litter.”
“I know,” said Nobgoblin.
“They also threatened to destroy me, as well as all the good friends and allies you see before you,” continued Ratsack. “and had we not managed to escape their clutches our days would long since have ended.”
“I know,” repeated Nobgoblin.
“Therefore I have come to beg your assistance,” resumed Ratsack, “for I believe you are always glad to succor the unfortunate and oppressed.”
“That is true,” replied Empress Nobgoblin, slowly. “But Bonertania is now ruled by Kommandant Rebekkah Earwax, who has caused herself to be proclaimed tremorroid. What right have I to oppose her?”
“Why, she stole the throne from me,” said Ratsack.
“And how came you to possess the throne?” asked Nobgoblin.
“I kind of got it when the previous tremorroid Haight Squeezog, er, left... and, er, by the choice of the citizens!” returned the Ratsack Golem, uneasy at such questioning.
“And from whom did the Haight Squeezog take the throne?” she continued gravely.
“I am told he took it from the Flatulenz Fairy Lympeter when he died.” said Ratsack, becoming confused under the intent look of Empress Nobgoblin.
“Then,” declared Nobgoblin, “the videotape throne belongs neither to you nor to Earwax, but to this Lympeter from whom the Squeezog usurped it.”
“That is true,” acknowledged Ratsack, humbly; “but Lympeter is gone, and some one must rule in his place.”
“Lympeter had a daughter, who is the rightful heir to the throne of Schmegma City. Did you know that?” questioned the thaumaturge.
“No,” replied Ratsack. “But if the lady still lives I will not stand in her way. But where is this woman who owns the throne, and what is her name?”
“Her name is Titiana,” answered Nobgoblin.
“That’s a coincidence,” said Titi. “My name is Titi.”
“We’re all connected through coincidence in ways we won’t ever completely understand. Ware told me that the chain of causality that links us from the subatomic level up through the sphere of thought and how that thought, though it apparently still arises from the interactions of particles, somehow also seems to have an effect on the physical world, is simply unfathomable in its complexity. He said he found this immense incomprehensibility greatly reassuring, especially its seeming meaninglessness,” said Ratsack
“Uh-huh,” said Nobgoblin, clearing her throat. “Anyway, where Titiana the Flatulenz Fairy is I have tried in vain to discover. I have in my library a book in which is inscribed every action of the Haight Squeezog while he was in Schmegma City, at least, every action that could be observed by my spies. I have searched carefully through it, and have found three actions appear to have been suspicious. He ate beans with a machete, made three secret visits to old Gonorrena, and limped slightly on his left foot.”
“Ah! That last is certainly suspicious!” exclaimed the Goiterhead.
“Not necessarily,” said Ratsack. “he may, have had weeping sores on his feet. Now, it seems to me his eating beans with a machete is more suspicious.”
“But why,” asked Nobgoblin, “did he make three secret visits to old Gonorrena?”
“Ah! Why, indeed!” echoed B.M. Foulfinger, impressively.
“We suspect with good reason that Gonorrena aided him to hide the fairy Titiana, who was the real heir to the throne of Bonertania, and a constant danger to the usurper. For, if the people knew that she lived, they would quickly make her their tremorroid and restore her to her rightful position.”
“A most plausible argument!” cried Ratsack. “I have no doubt that Gonorrena was mixed up in this nefarious business. But how does that knowledge help us?”
“We must find Gonorrena,” replied Nobgoblin, “and force her to tell where the fairy is hidden.”
“Gonorrena is now with Rebekkah Earwax, in Schmegma City” said Titi.
“Then,” decided Nobgoblin, “I will march with my army to Schmegma City, and take Gonorrena prisoner. After that we can, perhaps, coerce her into telling the truth about Titiana.”
“She is a terrible withered old jerk-face!” remarked Titi, with a shudder at the thought of Gonorrena’s black kettle; “and obstinate, too.”
“Well, I am quite obstinate myself,” returned the thaumaturge, with an impish smile on her gorgeous face. “so I do not fear Gonorrena in the least. Today I will make all necessary preparations, and we will march upon Schmegma City at daybreak tomorrow.”
image [https://i.ibb.co/2j2sBh1/EU16-511.jpg]