The Story Chapter Five

Ziggy casts an appraising eye over David's once again spiky red hair. "You're not wearing enough make-up to go with that haircut, you know. Couldn't you have picked a *different* wig style this time?" asks Ziggy and before David can respond Mr. Stardust himself pulls out an Alladin Sane lightning bolt-shaped sticker and slaps it onto David's forehead. The impact of the blow causes David to blackout momentarily.

When David regains consciousness he notices that something is quite amiss. He is no longer in the pod, and his past manifestations are nowhere to be seen. In fact, everything is strangely black and white. David finds himself on a crowded street where everybody around him moves in jerky, pixilated motions that are meant to suggest REALLY old stock movie footage. For the first time David notices that he is now dressed in ill-fitting, baggy trousers and an itchy-looking overcoat. A newsboy's cap that has seen better days sits on his now noticeably darker mousy brown hair. Slowly colors start seeping back in and the common folk around him start to move normally. A long line of giant brown bottles marches by him. "Oh no," says David, "it can't be. This can't be post-war Berlin during the Weimar Republic! I just CAN'T be stuck in Just a Gigolo again!!" The large pig under his arm looks up at David with his little beady eyes and oinks in such a way that David indeed knows that he has been sucked into his one movie that could put all of Elvis's collective movies to shame. The pig wears a collar with the name *Homer* engraved upon it. "None of this would have ever happened if I'd picked California over New York. I really mustn't let Iman bully me around so." David looks around, trying to figure out how to get out of this nightmare when a large group of desperate-looking characters starts closing around him. He rushes off and the crowd follows; he is about to yell his immortal line having to do with getting your own pig when...

SPLASH!! Dave and his alter-egos are thrown about the escape pod. "Oh good, we're here", says David, realising he's just been having one of his LSD flashbacks. He opens the hatch and looks about him, admiring the flowers Margot has planted in her back yard since his last visit. He and his alter-egos climb out on top of the pod and dog paddle to the edge of Margot's pool. Margot comes to the door with several fresh, fluffy towels. "Get your wet gear off, guys, and dry off". They happily oblige and follow Margot into the house. "Hot chocolate, scotch or this nice Barossa Valley Cabernet Merlot?" she asks them. They all opt for the wine. "I thank you" says Dave, then, "Hold on a tick" and he sets off for Margot's bedroom. He quickly returns with the old 12 string Margot keeps under her bed. He then goes to the freezer, takes the snowpeas out and puts them in the customized microwave he had sent her a while back. He sets the microwave to "defrost" and presses "start". The microwave begins to play Joni Mitchell's "Amelia" from the brilliant "Hejira" album. He sits down and plays along, he and the alter-egos and Margot, singing at the top of their lungs! How happy they all are! Then Margot says: "David, I hope you don't mind, but I invited some friends." She opens the bathroom door. Out file the 17,000 MSG fans, led by the Doctor (who had been moshing at the birthday concert and who had rescued everybody on his Tardis soon after Dave had escaped in the pod)...

Cane Toad Jack here doing the live report from WXXY in Margot's home town - Boomsville, Australia. Yes everyone round here knows that pretty young lady's name after David Bowie, Doctor Who, and 17,000 blokes from New York City crash landed in her back yard. After it became apparent WHY the fans were eyeing the natives in such a friendly way Emergency Rations were immediately flown in by helecopter to feed the mostly starved mass. The guvner has declared a state of emergency for the entire district until something can be done to get the fans cleared away. There seems to be one problem though: they don't want to leave. Why is that we asked? Screamed back at us from thousands of partially full mouths was the reply -"WE WAN OO SAAY WIHH MARHOO AN OOIEE" Therefore, live from our very own studio in Boomsville, we bring to you, you guessed it, David Bowie and Margot, in order to ask them, very nicely, to leave and take their portable audience with them. Now to the studio-the interview will be conducted by a new addition to our staff - Eiwob Divad "G'day Mr. Bowie and Margot." [Divad's voice] What do you have to say for yourselves? ahem, What I mean is...(shriek)HOW LONG CAN YOU STAY????!!!!!" At which point pandemonium erupts,

Hel...."at last, we have him trapped!" Matt, Trinia, Dave G. from Oz, Harry, Bruce and thousands of their friends all storm the studio, threatening to take David hostage unless he finally plays a concert series Downunder....Kirsten and Paul, brandishing heavy firepower, further demand dates for New Zealand, where Earthling has promised many rounds of free fruity drinks for all, if David will ONLY play a couple of dates for the Kiwi crowd. Evan Torrie tries to intervene in a diplomatic capacity, since he is there with the original group from the MSG show. Evan is not too hungry....he and Ramsey having devoured that giant blue eyeball that just happened to self-destruct in their vicinity during the orignal MSG show. David holds up one weary hand. His voice is still tired from entertaining those alter-egos for endless hours. But the throng of long-deprived Kiwis and the Australian contingent are not to be denied. Wondering how he is going to get out of THIS one, David steps forward to speak to his devoted yet hostile minions. He puts that familiar 'friendly yet enigmatic' expression onto his chiselled features (still looking damned good for 50) and says....

"OK"

Cheers erupt.

"We'll start with New South Wales: a tour of regional Retired Servicemen's League Clubs, long acoustic sets with lots of cheery chatting from me between songs, then 7 or 8 small shows in various Sydney suburbs before 3 or 4 bigger concerts. Then Victoria..." he continues in this vein for half an hour, concluding with "Fuck it, let's all just move here! Sure Australia is the arse end of the universe and nothing ever happens here, but the weather's great!"

More cheers...

and more cheers. There were five minutes where nothing could be heard over the roaring. As the sound began to die some, the crowd began to be aware of one that wasn't there before. RRRRRRRRRRRing!!!!!! As that sound died away absolute silence was left in its place. again, RRRRRRRRRing!!! Then someone whispered "Don't answer IT" David perhaps? Thousands hold their breath and watch in slow motion as Margot reaches to answer the phone. The tension was so high stepping on it would have required a foothold of some sort, like maybe the moon. "Hello?" ....... "Uh-huh, he's here." Margot hands the phone to David. David wipes his palms on his shirt and takes the receiver. "Yes?....Oh hello darling." Some of the Message Boarders begin to cry softly. "Why of course I-......How could you think I'd forget-........As soon as I can, dear. ... Yes. See you soon. Goodbye" Huge cries of wrenching agony are torn from the throats of all. They fall, ripping at their clothes and hair. David tries to calm people down. They appear inconsolable. "But!!!" he yells over the lamenting, "She just told me not to forget that Save the Children thing!!" Symptoms of total shock and disbelief are now displayed. "And SHE'S coming HERE to be with ME!" Needless to say that the party started immediately and lasted all night and will probably gain legendary status throughout the world. But THAT...is another story.

I wouldn't really mess up the story. I just wanted some attention. luv on ya all!

We luv you too, just because DAVID does....BUT you really SHOULD have either come with us after MSG to Stingy Lulu's OR invited us over to Schnabel's....actually, it was more fun at Stingy Lulu's!!! But Minerva might have cut you out with David, so I'd watch out if I were you! Minerva is, after all, a certified GODDESS! Hel P.S. Why did you post out of sequence? If you need internet lessons, I'm sure someone here would oblige (not me!) Hel ]

Hel..... "I think I should have some say in this" pipes up Iman. She had been standing in a nearby corner all along, but most had mistakenly taken her for exotic statuary or another promotion gimmick. "I already dumped that place in Mustique....why would we want to move HERE??" An ominous growl arises from the crowd, particularly the Pacific contingent. The faithful MBers are not going to take any guff from Iman. But suddenly, another figure claws her way through the crowd, knocking Trinia rudely aside. "Oh GOD, not ANGELA!" screams David, stepping between Iman and his ex, whom he has purportedly NOT spoken to in over a decade. Iman sulks, while Angela's eyes flash dangerously, and she pulls a tiny control box from her pocket. "The Doctor gave me a TARDIS remote control, DAVE, and if you don't do as I say, I'm going to USE it to...."

disrupt the entire space-time continuum of Australia." She then wheels around to the MSG fans and screams, "I'll get you, my pretties..." and, turning to Margot's dog "and your little dog ToTo, too!" Cackling, and wheezing intermittently, Angie starts for the door of the Tardis, dragging her bum leg behind her. Scccrape...thud. Sccccrape...thud. Angie knew that if she could get David away from The Stick and the MSG fans, she could make him love her like he once did. Yes, she could make him stroke and caress her now crust-encased teeth with his tongue like he used to. Or at least, she might be able to get a better divorce settlement out of him (the Jagger story only got her to the Joan Rivers show after all). As she reached the Tardis door, she turned abruptly, and something astonishing happened...

::Angie begins spinning quite rapidly in place. When she stops she is no longer dressed in her best Margaret Hamilton/Wicked Witch of the West garb. No indeed, she is now decked out in a frightening vision of star-spangled panties, red knee boots, and a cleavage-exposing top that has sparked the fantasy of many a lusting lad. Her retro '70s' do is topped by a tiara made of brass, and there are matching brass handcuffs at her wrists. Her magic lasso dangles from her hip. "Finally," she croaks out triumphantly, "I AM WONDER WOMAN!!!" She unfurls her lasso and is about to whip it in David's direction when...

Someone wielding a riding crop delivers a sharp blow to Angie/Wonder Woman's posterior, who drops her whip and screeches. Angie turns to find herself face to muzzle with a fierce looking one-eared female minotaur. Lady Artist Minotaur speaks, "First it was Hermione (ruining my chance with David in the bar), and now it's you! Don't you know you're not wanted? You have no more right to him than any of us! Quit living in the past and forget him; or join our ranks and worship from afar!" "Never! He was mine once - he'll be mine again! Ha ha ha ha! You may have beaten Hermione but you'll never whip me!" Angie crows triumphantly. "Oh yeah?" With that Lady Artist Minotaur picks up Wonder Woman's whip and begins whipping her...

David steps forward after several minutes of savouring Angie's painful predicament. "Stop!" he orders. "She may be totally burnt out, and I may be ignoring her till the end of time (or the 12th of Never, whichever comes first... hmmm, I have to check that one with Coco)... ahem, well, if she agrees to don the latex skullcap and wear it ALWAYS... we should let her go". But Lady Artist Minotaur is not so easily convinced.....

(in part because those latex skullcaps just don't fit her horned head).....

..and she's not at all certain that David REALLY, deep down inside, wants her to stop beating Angie. Angie, foaming at the mouth, turns to David and screeches "You can NEVER rid yourself of me! I MADE Bowie a household name! I have more dirty laundry stories up my sleeve! Do you really think that the Jagger story is the WORST that I can do?! Depravity shall run rampant! I have another book deal, you pitiful fool, you! Do you think that I shall ever bow to your will?!" Lady Artist Minotaur snorts mightily and stamps her left hoof and is about to lash out on the former Miss Barnett when she remembers David's command. David sees the questioning look in Lady Artist Minotaur's eyes, and he winks (with his bad eye) at her. At this point, he claps his hands and summons forth Ramona (who, having recently dusted off her passport, after overcoming her fear of sheep and Vegemite, has finally made the loooong trip to Australia). "You know what to do, my child," he tells Ramona, and she immediately takes off her latex skullcap (it was terribly uncomfortable and restraining, and it is oh so hard for her to do this, but Her Master hath decreed that this should be so). Taking aim, she slingshots the latex skullcap at Angie with a loud *boing!* which is followed by an oh so satisfying *SMACK!!!* as it slaps Angie on the face. David says...

"Oh, Ramona. Oh, Ramona, Ramona, ona, Ramona. Raaaamona."

"David, is there something wrong?" says Ramona.

Bowie places the palm of his hand against his forehead. "I don't know. I suddenly feel quite unwell. Hold me, Ramona."

Ramona takes hold of Bowie.

"Tighter, please."

Ramona tightens her grip.

"Hold me closer."

Ramona pulls Bowie closer. Bowie nestles his face into her shoulder.

Bowie's clothes fall to the ground. Ramona holds her arms outstretched and looks about, astonished.

Bowie rubs his eyes. A car horn blares at him. He is standing in the middle of a city street.

"Get out of the way, yah dumb fuck!" screams a driver. Bowie makes his way to the safety of a sidewalk and walks down managing himself into the crowd. He checks his pockets. He rubs his tongue against his teeth. He stops to examine the reflection of his face in a store front window. "Oh no," he says just before loosing all balance and collapsing.

"It's alright, Mr. Bolton," says the young nurse on duty seeing the pop star slowly open his eyes.

"You've had a bit of a nasty spill. You fainted and hit your head."

"I hit my head," mutters the Bolton form.

"And," the nurse admits, "A small mutt took a leak on you while you were down, but not to worry. Scappy does that to all the no-talent pop stars."

Bolton's blue hospital clothes fall empty on the bed. The young nurse looks aghast. She gets up and parades around the room stamping her feet. "Why, me!" She starts crying, "I never get anything I want. Mary Lou was always Mama's girl, and Daddy, oh...Daddy scrubbed me too hard! I was going to give Michael the biggest, bestest sponge bath he ever had. But no, the angels had to come and take him away." She shakes her twisted fist into the air. "I defy God! I shall have my no-talent pop star if it's the last thing..." At this moment, Nurse Paddlebuns has a vision. She sees David Bowie take form in her mind. "Well," she says sneering, "He's not exactly what I had in mind. This boy's GOT talent." She takes a look up at the heavens, eyeing the angels, and even taking a quick peek at God. "But, if this is the best you're going to do for me, I guess it'll be alright." God descends in a divine radiance of blinding light! "How dare you speak to me like that," He grumbles. Nurse Paddlebuns lies flat of the floor covering her face with her hands.

"Stop that! Don't cover your eyes! Haven't you seen Monty Python And The Quest For The Holy Grail? What is wrong with you?!" "I'm sorry, oh holy one. It's just that I've always wanted my very own no-talent pop star.

Ever since I was a little girl, I used to sit home and stare up at the moon and think of bad taste in music."

"You know your quest!" He shouts, "Now follow it. You want Michael Bolton. Mary Lou wants Michael Bolton." "Mary Lou? You're giving Bolton to Mary Lou?" "Of course not!" The earth's surface trembles. "I'm giving her Thurston Moore. I've never liked that girl! Her father treated her too... gently by my opinion." "Oh, God, you are so right!" "Of course I'm right!" God tries to compose himself. "Alright Nurse Paddlebuns. You know your mission." Nurse Paddlebuns raises her right hand, "God-almighty. If it takes the rest of my God-given life-" "Oh, cut the crap!" "If it takes the rest, the rest of, the rest of my, my, my-" "Ah!" God screams. "I can't take it anymore. If it takes the rest of your life you will find Bowie. You will find him." "Yes, yes!" says Nurse Paddlebuns with orgasmic energy.

a small voice "but where do I start looking?" Oh...,OH ME!!! Do I have to tell you EVERYTHING?!? "well that would be a help." says the nurse. She is panting slightly. God throws a particularly crushing stare in her direction, holds it for a few seconds, then sighs. "You must find the Keymaster. I tell you only this: She posts tantalizing messages hinting at the full extent of her knowledge about Bowie's activities and whereabouts and her name begins with the letter... nah, that would make it SO EASY!!! You can figure it out easily enough. Even I do not know as much as she. You must gain her assistance in your quest, OR YOU WILL FAIL! Go now and do as I command.

God looks at his watch (digital w/calc).

"Got to fly. BYE!!!!" Nurse Paddlebuns sits down at the hospital's computer terminal and logs on. davidbowie.com/2.0/connections/bbs "oh man what a mess." she is miserable.

The somewhat... oh let's face facts... the completely ditzy nurse...who is really a candy-striper or is that stripper...? who faked her credentials... There is a higher probability of Dole getting a sex-change, prancing around in women's underclothing singing "Let's do the Time Warp again" before she would be capable of passing her nurses exam. Never the less, the fake nurse, stands looking at the computer screen completely dumbfounded. In an ear-piercing shriek she calls God a few names, demanding of the OH mighty one how the Hell she is going to find this all knowing person? Well needless to say, God does not take very kindly to this, and descends to her room quite rapidly. Once there Miss Paddlebuns, demands God's help. God just looks at her with one eyebrow cocked and says: "Lady, you're beyond my help ." He points one of his many omnipotent fingers at her, and she is no more. " And people ask for proof!!?? That has to count as a minor Miracle." God lets out a deep sigh... "That's enough divine intervention for today" God leaves. (Unknown to anyone, Miss Paddlebuns evil sister Mary Lou is hiding in the dark corner...that is ever so essential for an evil presence. "Heee...David Bowie, I could find him and...) Meanwhile...A figure that...let's face it, has no sex appeal what so ever, stares horrified into a mirror. " Oh God, I am so sorry for whatever I did but surely it could not have been so bad as to result in THIS as a punishment"!!! A wave of nausea over runs David as he takes another peek into the mirror. God quickly reappears " Oh yeah...so sorry, I forgot about you. Now let's see, you need your body back... Bolton, if allowed to keep your body, would set off a horrid chain reaction, resulting in the end of the world. I just can't have that, not after all the work I have put into this planet." David smiles happily at the thought of having his body back. BOOM. God is gone, and David Bowie IS David Bowie again. Bolton... well... that's another story. But alas poor Bowie has no idea where he is!!! It appears to be a dark room with little light. David takes a look around. All he can see is a huge round object. As he walks closer he realizes to his delight that it is a BIG ball (15 feet tall) of multi-colored yarn.... for some inexplicable reason, this makes David absolutely euphoric... perhaps because of unresolved childhood issues?

But David just can't help himself from....

grabbing the bright blue end hanging off of the giant ball of multicolored string and then giving the ball it a HUGE KICK!!! "HI YAAA-Ouch!! shit! Shit! SHIT!!" he cries when his little toesies crashed into the unmoving bulk. Having done the swearing for the deed he bends his shoulder to the ball and puts all his slight weight to it. His efforts produce a light sweat and some labored breathing but no rolling action. Does he change his tactics? Not David Bowie. Weeellll, maybe just a little bit. He goes about preparing to sing the ball into moving. His motivation for the deed is mighty odd, in fact, he doesn't know it himself, all he knows is that he wants that string in a straight line because he might need it that way later. Just as he opens his mouth to let the power flow, his extreme concentration is broken by a loud, deep snorting sound that echoes down many a bending corridor before reaching him. It makes involuntary chills crawl up his spine and cling on for life to his nape. It sounds like? A bull of some sort? "Where am I", he thinks? "And why am I wearing a toga?"