[Kvizee Doug and the crew are writing a blog in diary form that will in the future destroy the world. Doug has been writing the blog for now — Naztko]

ENTRY 49

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.

ENTRY 50

Chloë was asleep again. All of us were so tired we could have lain in bed all day. I touched down onto the bed, landing my behind in the slump of the mattress, sighing.

An awakening. Caressing my face, sliding a leg over, and another, Chloë used her hands strategically to ready me for launch, and she lowered herself on my rocket. I fondled her globes, and we rolled over. Massaging her legs with my feet, my fingers strolled along her pathways.

Zawmb’yee came back into the room. She touched me on the behind. I said, “Oh, ah, oh, ah, oh ah, mmm, mmm, mmm, mmm, mmm.” I can be so articulate sometimes. Chloë hugged me, and Zawmb’yee stroked my legs. I made some noises.

The phone rang. Zawmb’yee left to answer it. Chloë rolled us over again and with her cave she squeezed my overgrown soda-straw stalactite, nursing it with her inner lips.

Zawmb’yee came back in the room. Chloë and I moaned. Zawmb’yee said, “Chloë, you have a phone call.”

Chloë got up. The doorbell rang. Chloë and Zawmb’yee left the room. I could have lain in bed all day. But I rested for just a short while. I think I might have fallen asleep again.

But I heard Chloë calling me from the living room. She’s been into satires of Shakespeare lately and had me read some.

Chloë shouted, “Wherefore art thou Romeo?”

I called back, “Because here I am an arrow in your bow that you fling like a beau in a sling, I am here, outrageous to think of joy, Juliet, when you are of class and I am pupil enlarged to see thee.”

Zawmb’yee yelled, “Am I not the feathers on your arrow that makes your flight run true to rise as the Sun when I am the Moon?”

The visitor, who was in the living room with them, spoke up. Utcoozhoo said, “Whoa young lovers; doth thou not trample on lines the planets forbid?”

Cackles and guffaws galore, gorgeous was the laughter. I got dressed.

ENTRY 51

Uncle Utcoozhoo Arrives

I came into the living room. “Uncle Utcoozhoo,” I said, “this is a pleasant surprise. Would you like something to drink or a piece of garlic lime chicken?”

“No thanks.”

Chloë said, “Y’know, I think that ‘doth’ is third person, but ‘thou’ is second person.”

“Argh,” said Utcoozhoo, “modern English is hard enough, and ancient English appears to be only for thee, Chloë, if you would be the objective case, but you are strong like a nominative, and as I understand it, ‘wherefore’ means ‘why’ not ‘where’. So thou art not an object, but the subject of admiration by some Romeo (oh, that makes it an object?), fixated on red hair and the art of the hunt. Feed him love and his growling will turn into ferocious purrs in basso profundo, the roar of gratitude when the bosom of welcome is safely calm, romantic but real, and fun.”

Zawmb’yee said, “Oh yeah, and don’t blondes have more fun?”

“Well,” said Utcoozhoo, “you are already a ferocious spirit who has learned every lullaby that calms every hurt. Who could resist your song and gentle touch?”

“Huh, what?” said Zawmb’yee.

Utcoozhoo said, “Could you just let me be diplomatic and vague, please. You both are so intense. Cool it … I have good news …”

“Yes,” I said, “good news?”

“Zawmb’yee, I’ve gotten you and Doug a full pardon, so it’s safe for you to come back into the cave …”

“How,” said Zawmb’yee, “did you do that?”

“Well, it’s a little complicated: I have agreed to give a substantial number of ingot bars of gold, platinum, and palladium to Zusoiti from the Tzalbihuki on condition that she, personally, come out of the cave and open up a bank account in her own name. She has agreed to sell the metals herself …”

I said, “Isn’t that worth a fortune, and won’t it make her more powerful?”

“Well,” said Utcoozhoo, “it’s a gamble, but I’m counting on the fact that she knows nothing about the tax laws, and will be raising a lot of red flags — the more ostentatious she is in her spending the better. I’m pretty certain that the temptations of the up-top world will seduce her, considering how isolated she’s been as a dedicated hermit and cave person.”

“Gold bars?” asked Chloë.

“The Gods left a stockpile of supplies — an endowment, you might say. As Varishynahuki, guardian of the endowment, I can distribute it as I see fit, but it is a tricky business. We’ve spent years setting up sham mining companies and businesses to hide our true source of income. One must not tell the IRS that one has obtained gold from the Gods.”

Chloë said, “You can use any amount? … How much is there and …”

“It’s vast, but there are quite a few restrictions. For example, we are forbidden to drink or touch the waktalbup …”

Waktalbup?

“It means, ‘water with a heavy heart’.”

“What’s that?”

“Well …”

Zawmb’yee and I chanted a familiar tune, “Secrets are sacred.”

Utcoozhoo laughed. “Chloë, Zusoiti is a dangerous person. I don’t think you want to know too much. It is she whose thoughts and feelings you picked up at the Blue Attic Club. Just her imprints nearly overwhelmed you …”

I said, “Is this really going to work?”

“Probably not,” said Utcoozhoo, “but I have a Plan B … um…”

“What?”

“Well, first I want to say, Zawmb’yee and Doug, that you must vote in the coming elections for the Parliament and for the Grand Council. I’ve brought you some political literature, and I’ve written out my opinions for you to consider …”

“OK, but,” I said, “what’s Plan B?”

“We’ll vote her out of power if you can find a reliable source of scuba diving equipment. We’re going to need a lot of it, because a lot of the voters can’t hold their breath anymore.”

“Huh?”

“Doug, I think you can figure it out. You know, the Tzvaleubhoi. There are a lot of elders there on our side, but they must appear in person to vote.”

Chloë said, “I’m not following this …”

Zawmb’yee and I chanted, “Secrets are sacred.”

ENTRY 52

Utcoozhoo said, “Well, it’s been charming to meet you Chloë … Doug, I have to get going. Just get me some scuba catalogs, and some books on how to scuba dive. OK?”

“Yes,” I said, “I will … um, Uncle Utcoozhoo, did you know that Chloë is my favorite interior decorator?”

“Oh?” said Utcoozhoo. He gazed over at Chloë. “Have I seen your work, Chloë?”

Chloë hesitated a moment. “Uh, well, I did the Blue Attic Club with Zawmb’yee.”

“Hmm, I might have some work for you in the future. I’m going your way — can I give you a lift home?”

“Sure, and tell me all about the caves. From what Zawmb’yee has been telling me, it sounds intriguing.”

Utcoozhoo looked at his watch. He opened the door for Chloë. “Well, then, we’ll be going … Thanks Doug. Zawmb’yee, you look beautiful today … see ya in the cave. Bye.” They left.

Zawmb’yee and I plopped down on the couch. She said, “All of this has been exhausting and I guess Utcoozhoo can handle everything, but …”

“But? Don’t worry. It’ll all work out. I’ll find the equipment supplier and we’ll vote …”

“No, I don’t mean that. I think that Zusoiti really intends to trigger a new Ice Age.”

“Can she do that?”

“I think so. Utcoozhoo has told me a little about the pfayohiqusi. I’m not sure exactly how, but I think it’s powerful enough to trigger catastrophic climate change.”

“Are you sure about that, or is it one of those exaggerated myths?”

“No. I think it’s real. I’ve seen the pfayohiqusi do spectacular things, but special permission is needed to use it.”

“What is pfayohiqusi?

“Oh, pfayohiqusi just means ‘apparatus of the Gods’. It’s just another one of those vague words that doesn’t really tell you anything. Utcoozhoo throws these words at me, but I haven’t yet comprehended what it really means.”

“Well, anyway, we now can go back to the cave if we want to, but we don’t have to right away. Right?”

“It does seem urgent and I think Utcoozhoo needs me.”

“Yeah, but, I have to get information for him, and you could do things from here.”

“Well, the sacred quarters has certain equipment that I need and…”

“Never mind all that. Just stay because…”

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2 thoughts on “Aftermath

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