Teenage Wildlife

The Story Chapter TwentyOne

Chapter: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21

DISCLAIMER:

The following is an ongoing work of composite fiction by contributors from the Message Board. Due to the erratic nature of its construction the editors apologize for any omissions or lack of attribution to the proper authors. This story is on-going and will be archived here periodically. For current chapters, comments, or to add you own chapter, please visit the Message Board. This story is a work of fiction. Names have been changed to protect the guilty and any similarity to actual events is purely coincidental.

** TP ** a small addition **

LAM looks triumphantly at David and pulls out a small container from her back pocket. "No, David, this time you've gone too far, and you cannot repair the hurt you've caused me - I know you said that moondust will cover me, but I have something that will cover you here, and you won't be at all happy with it. This bottle contains itching powder, and for all the times you've led me on, and for all the hurt you've caused me, I'm going to pour this all over your beautiful body, while you're tied like this, and you won't be able to scratch yourself, nor will you be able to get free until I decide to set you free." David "Oh LAM, you know I was only joking, you really took me far too seriously, I always lead women on in this way, you're just far too sensitive."

By now David is trying to think of every single ploy within his means to save his skin!!

**LAM **

LAM spits on his erect and straining penis. "I think not...." and then turns on her (spike-booted) heel and stomps away.

From the shadows, darkly, coldly, from the shadows drips a small little man, only about *this* high. But David doesn't hear him. David is busy struggling at his bonds, fiercely determined to save the day like Tarzan.

The little man wriggles forward. He lacks legs; his face is nearly black and his eyes are a pale sick gold color, the gold on the fingers of miners freshly dead.

"You want your woman, don't you?" he leers.

David stiffens intensely, scared almost to breathe.

"You want your woman?" The little man drags himself along using his fisted hands. Underneath the knuckles, where David cannot see, his fingers are split in two down the middle. His face is almost black and his eyes are pale, pale gold. "Yes? I found her."

Even LAM would have forgiven David at that moment when the legless man came into his sight. He cringed in revulsion, attempting vainly to pull up his legs to cover his nakedness. He looked quite tormented, quite beyond the usual fun-and-games afraid. Things had taken a turn for the surreal and David had never felt so ashamed of his body before in his life. Despite all things love was foremost, anyhow, as he cracked off his words as though grudging them to the little thing on the floor: "Please....is she alright?"

"Yet."

: David was afraid to move and wordless regardless. The little man, the black and gold man, split-fingered, was just edging toward him when from the distance came the sound of a large stone breaking in two. Both heads whipped to hear it. And the wee little mutant shivered off into the shadows again. "I will be back," he promised. "Pray yet."

Merciful, LAM strode in all high on the hips like a supermodel.

**Ramona ** (scratch my back)

David sighs deeply and turns away from LAM, not knowing what to say but knowing that anything he *could* possibly say won't get him out of his current situation. "Just as I thought," LAM sneers. She click-clacks around the pillar and positions herself directly in front of Dave. LAM leans casually on one of the pillars, the polished blood-red nail of her right index finger tapping lightly on the bottle of itching powder.

"It's your own damn fault, you know," she says in a tone barely above a whisper.

"What?" David says loudly. "I can't hear you! I've told Reeves to turn down his amplifier in the studio but...."

"SHUT UP!!" LAM screams. "I can only take so much from you!! All the pain, all the suffering, all the nights spend agonizing over the fact that you stubbornly refuse to release American tour dates....well, all I can say is that you deserve it, you deserve it all."

David turns to look at LAM. He tries one last friendly yet enigmatic smile on her (hey, it's ALWAYS (well, almost always) worked for him in the past to get him out of any particularly sticky situation), but the cold glint in her eyes doesn't melt in the presence of his radiant capped smile. LAM merely snorts at Dave and untwists the cap on the bottle. David steels himself as best he can for the upcoming itching torture.

"For Jareth" she intones with a voice full of loss, sadness, deprivation and just a hint of professional dominatrix cool and just then a small voice says "*ahem* Excuse me, Mistress Mine, but it's for you."

" WHAT!!" LAM storms as she turns her gaze to the tiny goblin who's shifting its weight from foot to foot (and obviously NOT wanting to be there). Her movement causes a few sprinkles of the itching powder to land on Dave's left big toe, and he moans out and nearly faints as the powder works its wonders on this single digit.

The goblin, wondering what it had done to deserve this, holds out a cellphone to LAM. "Couldn't you take a bloody message?!" LAM spits at it.

"I tried, O Mistress Mine," the poor little goblin stammers, "but they insisted on talking to you personally. Something about beans and Bowie, I...I...I really don't know." Tears are welling up in the goblin's eyes.

"OH!!" LAM coos, "they've FINALLY gotten back to me about those Bowie Beanie Babies! I stand to make an absolute KILLING on these things. Wait for me here, sweetie", she says, winking at David, "I'll be right back."

LAM takes the phone from the goblin and heads out the door (the reception down in her dungeon is really pretty crappy), and Dave sighs with great relief as the itching in his big toe slowly subsides.

"You are lucky," he hears and once again the mutant comes slithering out of the shadows. "If not for that phone call, you would now be experiencing one of the fiercest jock itches known to man. But we must hurry, as there isn't much time."

The golden-eyed man swiftly cuts the bindings holding Dave's feet, and Dave waits patiently for him to cut the restraints on his wrists, but nothing happens.

"Oops" the golden-eyed man begins.

"What do you mean, 'oops'?" Dave replies.

Even though he is completely legless, the golden-eyed man nevertheless gives the impression that he is sheepishly shifting his weight from one leg to the other.

"I can't reach the upper ropes," he says. He begins to giggle in a manner most sinister. "I'm afraid there's nothing I can do for you." He giggles louder. "I'm afraid that when LAM comes back, she'll see that you've tried to get away. I'm afraid that that will make her angry. Very very angry. I'm afraid she may just have to....punish you some more." The golden-eyed man is now giggling hysterically.

David hears a click-clack of spiked heels (this time coming from behind him), and he waits for LAM to unleash her wrath. Instead, two hands cover his eyes and he hears a familiar "guess who?"

"NNNOOOOOOO!!!!!!!" David screams out, and Ramona slaps him lightly on his bare ass. "Nope, wrong!" she says as she goes around the pillar and stands in front of the trembling Prince David. "Fancy meeting YOU here," she begins. "We always seem to meet in the strangest of places. Oh, THERE he is!" she says, pointing to the no-longer laughing golden-eyed man. "It's my Jimmy Page garden gnome. I sent away for one of them from the Crowley Catalogue, and no sooner do I get the bloody thing than it decides to skip out on me. After all the money I plunked down for it, it better damn well stay in my garden. Get him, Brett" Ramona says, and the fey Mr. Anderson (twirling a pair of Mickey Mouse ears in his hands) struts by Dave (and flashes him a coy little smile) and scoops up the little lawn ornament. Ramona turns to Dave and shrugs. "Well, you refuse to come back to California, and I have to keep myself amused somehow. He's a nice one to have in my little collection."

The alarm on her watch beeps. "Damn, I'm late for class. See ya around, Dave" she says and just then Dave says "Wait?! Look, don't just leave me like this!! Help me out of this thing! PLEASE!!!" "Sheesh," Ramona says, "do I have to do EVERYTHING?" She snaps her fingers and the restraints around Dave's wrists disappear. She snaps her fingers again and a loincloth girds him. Dave looks up at Ramona just in time for the flash from her Polaroid to momentarily blind him.

"One for the scrapbook" she says as she disappears.

"OK, I'll be expe expecting the order in by next Monday. Ta" LAM says as she switches off her cellphone and re-enters the room. Dave...

** Starluck ("Oy ve, baby!") **

"Damn," Bowie grumbles. "Practically naked. Nothing to cover me but this shabby bit o'loincloth." He begins to wander about, noticing that the entire scene has changed to some cheap bar and a hauntingly familiar song is sung by a eye-popping band......."Y!.....M!.....C!.....A!...... It's fun to stay at the Y!M!C-A!....."

"Dear God, where am I now?" Bowie's near tears. Then, a six-foot hamster walks up to him and takes him by the arm.

"Mary, where have you been?" the hamster says in a deep bass voice (kindalike that of James Earl Jones), "You're on in ten minutes!" "I am??" Bowie replies obliviously. "But wha-what am I supposed to sing or do?" The hamster shakes his furry head and chitters his massive incisors,"Damn it, Mary, it's all that smack you do, ain't it, deary? Look, Mary, we gotta go get your leather straps on and get your make-up all nice and raunchy. Have you forgotten you sing your ' Ode to Barry Manilow'???" "An ODE?!" Bowie's eyes grow wider by the minute. Moments later, he gets thrown onto the stage by the hamster (apparently his manager) and the hamster presents him.

"Gentlemen, thank you, thank you. Now, let's have a big hand for the Queen of Malice, the Lord of Lipstick......BROTHER MARY!!".....A huge applause as they cue the black-lights, the holographic skeleton horses, and a hazy cranberry coloured spot-light aims right at Bowie........

** Ali ** The Jello

Then they were all run over by a runaway Jello truck and died.

** Hel ** and then he woke up.....dreaming....

David sat up, rubbing his spiky hair, wondering what all those strange dreams had been about. "Too much spanakapita, I suppose..." he decides, mumbling out of bed and over to his closet for a robe. "Hmmm, I wonder where I got his loincloth from....I'm sure I wasn't wearing it when I went to sleep."

So the greatest artist of the 20th century showered, dressed (day clothes), and went off into the sunset to find another adventure, to have fruity drinks with his old friends, and to plan his upcoming Ballroom Tour of the East Coast and Ali's Backyard and other assorted premises. But...that's another story.......

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This document last updated Saturday, 15-Apr-2000 15:37:51 EDT
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