Part V
"Yes, Stang, one of us shall not return from the bowl." Kool leered at
the cowering form of Stang leaning over the edge of the carpet, staring into
the bowl of the InterGalactic Dobbs' Pipe.
"Shit, Kool, whatever you say, man," Stang whimpered. "But if I know
'Bob', then we probably BOTH won't return from the pipe."
The leer faded from Kool's face, replaced by worry. Kool knew the
Dallasite spoke true. But it was too late, for just then, with a mad
kaleidoscope of frenzied photons, the carpet pierced the Pipe's Chandrasakkar
limit, and ahead lay the Pee-vent Whore-izon.
And deep inside at the very center, madness. The Blind Idiot God Azathoth
and his stage band: Zoogz on chainsaw slicing into the Crystal Skull,
Sternodox in the reverse osmosifier mask humping an electric coffee grinder in
overdrive, Janor with his mouth on fire, Radarscope on the Ghost Srat
Psychotron, and all Doktors, past-present-future, squirting their slack across
the multiverse.
It was too much for Kool. Blood began to seep from his ears, and flecks
of foam appeared around his lips. His pupils vanished and his eyes took on the
blue glow of Fremen.
Stang saw his chance, and with a bellow of the zulu war cry, lept for
"Bob"'s Inspector, grappled him and tumbled off the carpet into the void
cutching his stunned foe. Kool roused and grasped Stang's throat with hands
suddenly mutated into razor-wired claws. He sank nine-inch fangs into the
scribe's shoulder and began ripping and twisting like a puma on prey.
A blood-red haze colored Stang's vision, and he plunged his spirit into
the Yeti Kung-Fu, lashing out with phenomenal fists and carreening kicks. His
blows were telling, yet try as he would to deliver the final blow, Kool was
his match.
The two parted an instant, breathing heavily and casting baleful stares
at each other. Then Kool uttered a fearful scream and double over in apparent
agony. Two humps appeared on his torso on either side below his arms. Stang
stood transfixed watching Kool writhe as two more arms grew from The
Inspector's side.
"Ah, four-armed yeti spawn, it matters not how many hands ye have," Stang
uttered, "for you STILL can't wash soap."
-more later if I feel like it-
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