[Kvizee Doug and the crew are writing a blog in diary form that will in the future destroy the world. Doug has written the next entry — Naztko]
Chloë and Zawmb’yee in Bed
Oh the joy and hazard of falling asleep with Chloë and Zawmb’yee in the bed with me. I dreamed I was on the railroad in a center seat. Chloë was sitting to my left, and Zawmb’yee was sitting to my right. Unbuttoning her blouse, Chloë took my left hand, guided it under her bra onto her left breast. Zawmb’yee took my right hand and guided it over her right breast. The rising of the nipples and me was exquisite as Chloë reached into my pants with her right hand to raise my monument even higher, and Zawmb’yee with her left hand cupped my base of swimming ecstasy.
As Chloë and Zawmb’yee held my hands to their breasts, a female conductor with purple hair came down the aisle. She said, “Tickets please, all tickets please.”
I said, “I can’t reach my ticket …”
She bent down and kissed me on the lips. “You don’t need a ticket,” she said.
Chloë and Zawmb’yee held my hands while the conductor sat on my lap. Stroking my face and head, and reaching into her pocket, she pulled out an electric razor. Quickly she shaved my head. I realized it was Zusoiti. She said, “The land will be nude like your head, and the ice will descend.”
An announcement came over the public address system: “Please be advised that passengers are subject to random searches. Also, please take note: if you see a suspicious package, report it to a transit worker or the police — ‘if you see something, say something’ — and have a nice day.”
Zusoiti said, “I must inspect this suspicious package,” and she pulled down my pants. “Aha,” she said, and touched my tip.
Zawmb’yee and Chloë chanted, “Banana cream pie, banana cream pie.”
Zusoiti caught my cream in a cup. She whipped it up with a whisk into a meringue.
I pulled my hands back as Zawmb’yee and Chloë stood up, took cans of whipped cream out of their bags and sprayed it into my mouth.
Another conductor came by and said, “Tickets please, all tickets please.”
I woke up. I’ve always liked real whipped cream. But now they only have the artificial stuff — no, no, no. I used to make it with heavy cream, but I don’t even think they sell that anymore.
Waking up from such a dream is hard to do, but Zawmb’yee was kissing me, and she said, “I’m making breakfast.” Before I could say something, she was out of the room. I lay hungry, and laid my dream aside.
After staring at my erection, Chloë got up and went to the bathroom. When she came out, I went in. I had to wait a long time before I could urinate. Finally I was soft enough to go.