--------------------------------------------------------------- PROBLEMS? Please try viewing this with Netscape Navigator. --------------------------------------------------------------- _/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/ Andrew Roller Presents NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS in BIKINI BRIGADE _/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/ Chapter One ÒThe childÕs safety is paramount!Ó the woman declared to KatieÕs mother. She was standing at the front door. She looked to be in her mid- 30Õs. She wore a no-nonsense hair style. Her dress might have doubled for a grocery sack, if it didnÕt have a Mondrian pattern upon it. Unlike MondrianÕs primary colors, the dress was patterned with lines of light blue, dark blue, and grey. The large maples in the front yard cast dappled shadows over a large van sitting in front of KatieÕs house. ÒCommunity Services,Ó the van had printed upon it, in large letters. If it was dark, the letters would have glowed brightly when hit by headlights, but it was morning. A police logo was imprinted on the side of the van, underneath ÒCommunity Services.Ó ÒBut I donÕt *want* to go to Child Protective Services!Ó Katie insisted. She was sitting in the living room. Her mother was at the front door. MTV was blaring out from a television in the living room. Katie had turned it up, to try to drown out the argument between her mother and the woman from Child Protective Services. ÒAll she said was that a man gave her a hickey. While I was at the PTA meeting,Ó KatieÕs mother told the woman from Child Protective Services, whose name was Matilda Brunswald. Ms. Matilda Brunswald, as she would be quick to remind you, if you forgot the feminist honorific. ÒNumber one,Ó Ms. Matilda Brunswald said, raising a finger on her pudgy hand. ÒNumber one, if a grown man has been giving your daughter hickeys, *that* child is unsafe! And number two, Ms. Pepperdine--Ó ÒMrs. is fine,Ó KatieÕs mother answered. ÒI may have divorced my husband, but I havenÕt dropped his last name.Ó ÒYou shouldnÕt have taken his last name in the first place!Ó Ms. Matilda Brunswald declared. ÒNumber two, Ms. Pepperdine, there is no evidence that youÕve ever attended a PTA meeting. In fact, thereÕs a rumor, which I certainly hope is scurrilous, that youÕve been seen with various boyfriends at a local motel!Ó ÒOh, is that what this is about?Ó KatieÕs mother laughed. ÒSomeone whoÕs never gotten any, jealous of my supposed love life?Ó KatieÕs mother asked. ÒNo, that is not what this is about!Ó Matlida Brunswald said hotly. ÒAdultery isnÕt punishable under state law, at the moment.Ó ÒNow youÕre saying IÕm--Ó KatieÕs mother began. ÒWhat IÕm saying,Ó Matilda Brunswald said. ÒExcuse me. Mind if I get by?Ó I asked. IÕd come up behind Ms. Matilda Brunswald, having just parked my brand new Jeep 4 x 4 out front, behind the ÒCommunity ServicesÓ van. I pinched myself. I didnÕt own a brand new Jeep 4 x 4, did I? I was 13. You had to be at least 16 to drive, by yourself. I turned around. No, there was no doubt about it. It was there, all right. Shiny with coats of wax, a factory paint job, and colored fire engine red, my favorite color, the color of lipstick. Still, I was only 13. How could I be driving it? And how did I know the name of the Child Protective Services worker? IÕd never seen her before. I pinched myself again. This was a dream, right? But I didnÕt awaken. Instead, Ms. Matilda Brunswald stepped aside, and eyed me closely as I passed. I slipped past KatieÕs mom and found Katie sitting on a couch in her living room. She had her feet on the couch and her knees drawn up to her chin. Her arms were wrapped protectively around her legs. MTV was announcing a contest whose prize was a visit from Ozzy Osbourne. ÒWhoÕs that?Ó I asked Katie. Yet I knew, already, didnÕt I? ÒThatÕs the Child Protective Services lady,Ó Katie said glumly. ÒSheÕs pissed Ôcause Nick gave me a kiss and I went to school with it, and everyone saw it on my neck.Ó I sat down beside Katie. ÒNick gave you more than I kiss,Ó I said. ÒShe doesnÕt know that,Ó Katie answered. ÒWell, donÕt tell her,Ó I said. ÒI didnÕt tell anyone anything!Ó Katie said. She looked exasperated. She was obviously not too happy about the woman at the front door. ÒPRT!Ó the woman at the front door hollared to KatieÕs mom. ÒIÕll get a court order to remove your daughter from this *dangerous* environment, where sheÕs permitted to see strange men, and youÕll be subject to a Parental Rights Termination hearing,Ó the woman told KatieÕs mom. ÒBetter hire a lawyer.Ó ÒGood God! I donÕt want to have to go to the expense of hiring a lawyer,Ó KatieÕs mom replied. ÒAll because my daughter had a hickey--Ó ÒFrom a man!Ó the Child Protective Services woman yelled. Katie leaned over to me. She whispered in my ear. ÒYouÕre going to run away?Ó I asked her. ÒWhat else can I do?Ó Katie said. ÒBut where will you go?Ó I asked. ÒI donÕt know,Ó Katie said. She thought a moment. ÒI know! To the beach!Ó she said. ÒWant to go in my Jeep?Ó I asked. ÒYes!Ó Katie declared. She jumped up from the couch. ÒIÕll get my new bikini, and my sand toys, and weÕll drive all the way to the beach, where theyÕll never find me!Ó ÒAlright,Ó I replied. ÒBut bring a sweater. ItÕs cold this morning.Ó ÒOkay,Ó Katie said. ÒBut weÕre going to go to a warm beach, okay? To a beach in Florida, or California. LetÕs go to the beach in Hollywood! Then we can meet Arnold Schwarzenegger while weÕre having fun at the beach.Ó ÒI donÕt know,Ó I told her, but she turned, and went running for the stairs to her room. ÒHow far is it to California?Ó I asked her. ÒNot that far,Ó Katie assured me. ÒI was just watching a California Beach Party on MTV, so it canÕt be that far away.Ó ÒHow will we get there?Ó I asked. I dashed up the stairs after her. ÒWeÕll need a map.Ó ÒI have a map!Ó Katie said. ÒItÕs of the whole United States of America. Its really big and it has lots of roads in it.Ó ÒWell, find California on the map then,Ó I told her. ÒAnd tell me where to turn, so I donÕt get lost trying to get us there.Ó ÒDid you bring your bikini?Ó Katie asked me. We ran into her room. She got out her school backpack and began jamming stuff into it. A deflated beach ball, a snorkel. A swim fin. ÒI lost the other one,Ó Katie told me, sticking the swim fin into her back pack. ÒNo, I didnÕt bring my bikini,Ó I told her. ÒLike I said, itÕs cold outside.Ó ÒHere, you can wear one of mine,Ó Katie said. She pulled open a dresser drawer. She handed me a small pile of cloth swatches and string. ÒIÕm bigger than you. Your bikini will be kinda small for me,Ó I told her. ÒIt doesnÕt matter. Nobody will notice in Hollywood,Ó Katie told me. ÒExcept hunky surfer dudes. Just pass them along to me if you donÕt like them.Ó ÒYouÕre boy crazy,Ó I told her. ÒSee? My new bikini. ItÕs hot pink,Ó Katie said. The one sheÕd handed me was red. It was my favorite color, I thought. And it did match the color of my jeep. I might look pretty cool, wearing it. ÒDonÕt just bring toys,Ó I told her. ÒPack some makeup too.Ó ÒYouÕre always worrying about your looks,Ó Katie said. ÒHere, stick the makeup stuff in your purse. I donÕt want it taking up room in my knapsack.Ó ÒWhatÕs that?Ó I asked her. I pointed at a starfish. It was hollow inside. It looked like a mold, that you could make big cookies with. ÒYou put sand in it and you can make starfish,Ó Katie said. ÒItÕs pretty fun.Ó She put it in her knapsack. Then she zipped her knapsack shut, as far as she could. The finned end of the swim fin was too big to fit in the knapsack, and stuck out the back of it. Katie shouldered her knapsack. She picked up a pail with a spade. The pail and spade were made of plastic. Cartoon sea horses danced along the outside of the pail. ÒOkay, I got my sand bucket, my swim fin... oops!Ó Katie said. ÒWhatÕs the matter?Ó I asked her. ÒForgot my frisbee!Ó Katie said. She darted to her closet and returned with a Bugs Bunny frisbee. ÒIt has a crack in it but it still flies pretty good,Ó Katie assured me. ÒLetÕs go!Ó ÒWeÕll have to go out the back,Ó I told her. ÒYeah. And IÕll have to sneak around past that lady to get in your jeep. She wonÕt see me, if I go behind the hedge,Ó Katie said. ÒLetÕs hope so,Ó I replied. I crossed my fingers. Downstairs, in the kitchen, we grabbed a big pile of Lunchables out of the fridge. We loaded them into two grocery bags, along with soda, fruit juice, and two bags of potato chips. (Barbecue for me, plain for Katie.) We got a beach towel out of the hall linen closet. We went to the downstairs bathroom and got a bottle of suntan lotion. ÒAlright, I guess weÕve got as much stuff as we can carry,Ó I told Katie. ÒDo you think weÕll need any peanut butter?Ó Katie asked me. ÒBetter get some, if you want it,Ó I told her. ÒYes. Otherwise I might wind up having to eat chunky peanut butter. We have a whole new jar of creamy peanut butter up in the cabinet here. ThatÕs my favorite.Ó ÒHow about these cards?Ó I asked her, spying a pack of Bicycle playing cards by the telephone in the kitchen. ÒOkay,Ó Katie said. ÒHereÕs some other games, down next to the wastebasket,Ó I told her. ÒCandyland. You want to bring that?Ó ÒNO!Ó Katie said. ÒWeÕre throwing that out. ItÕs a boring game. IÕm too big for it, now.Ó ÒYour mom might get pregnant again,Ó I told her. ÒNah,Ó Katie said. ÒIÕm the one and only.Ó ÒYou want to give these games to the Salvation Army?Ó I asked her. ÒCandyland, Chutes and Ladders...Ó ÒNo time!Ó Katie said. ÒAnyways my momÕs too lazy to go find out where the Salvation Army lives. Come on, letÕs go. Otherwise that Child Protective Services lady will take me!Ó ÒAlright,Ó I said. Leaving the games behind, I picked up the Bicycle playing cards. ÒWant some cigarettes?Ó Katie asked me, opening a drawer near the phone. There was a pack of Virginia Slims cigarettes in the drawer. ÒNo. Cigarettes are bad for your health,Ó I told her. ÒBesides weÕve got half the stuff in your house already. LetÕs just go.Ó ÒLemme take just one,Ó Katie said. She pulled a cigarette out of the pack. She put it in her mouth. Her hands were too full to carry it, what with a sand bucket in one hand, a frisbee in the other, and a bag of soda and Lunchables poised in the arm that held the frisbee. ÒIÕve cum a long way, baby,Ó she told me. ÒWeÕre going a long way, IÕm afraid,Ó I told her. ÒOh yeah. I forgot the map,Ó Katie said. She went, as best she could, dashing back up the stairs to her room. We stopped at 7/11 for yet more stuff. I wanted to look at the magazines, and see if the new Seventeen was out yet. Katie said we needed more snack food. ÒIt could be fifty or sixty miles to California,Ó she told me. ÒWe donÕt want to run out of Doritos.Ó ÒOkay,Ó I said, looking at the magazines. ÒBut I only have two dollars. DonÕt buy too many bags of them.Ó ÒTwo for me and one for you,Ó she said. ÒWhat? Why do you get two?Ó I asked her. ÒBecause IÕm in charge of the map,Ó Katie replied. ÒSo?Ó I asked. ÒSo, the map is hard work. Driving is fun,Ó Katie said. ÒHmmm. Whatever. IÕm not that crazy about Doritos,Ó I told her. ÒI like barbecue potato chips better.Ó ÒJay Leno eats Dortios,Ó Katie told me. ÒBut donÕt worry. IÕll eat your bag for you if you decide you donÕt want them.Ó ÒThanks,Ó I said. I couldnÕt find Seventeen, so we got in line without it. Standing there, waiting to pay for our food, Katie pointed to a fat, slightly disreputable man standing in front of us. ÒIÕll have a Playboy and a Penthouse and a Hustler,Ó he told the clerk behind the counter. ÒI know who that guy is,Ó Katie said to me, quite seriously, pointing to him but trying not to be seen pointing. ÒWho?Ó I asked. Can you imagine? I thought to myself. ItÕs bad enough he asks the clerk for Playboy. But Penthouse and Hustler too? ÒHe was on T.V. last week,Ó Katie told me. ÒOn AmericaÕs Most Wanted.Ó ÒReally?Ó I asked. ÒHeÕs a pervert too. Look at all those X-Rated magazines heÕs buying.Ó ÒAnd he needs to wash his hair too,Ó Katie told me. ÒIÕm going to call the Police and report him.Ó ÒAre you sure?Ó I asked her. ÒWhat if it isnÕt him?Ó ÒDoggie DoGood told us in school to report any suspicious people,Ó Katie told me. ÒIÕll call the Police and heÕll get in lots of trouble. Serves him right for buying all those X-Rated magazines!Ó I looked at her. ÒYou donÕt really think you saw him on T.V. last week, do you? ÒSo?Ó Katie told me. ÒLetÕs get him in trouble anyway.Ó ÒItÕs not nice to get people in trouble who didnÕt do anything,Ó I told her. ÒHeÕs buying X-Rated magazines!Ó Katie said to me. ÒHeÕs obviously a pervert. All perverts need to be put in prison. ThatÕs what Doggie DoGood says!Ó ÒBut if--Ó I began. The man in front of us asked for a bag for his magazines. ÒIf we get someone in trouble who didnÕt *actually* do anything,Ó I told her. ÒWe might get ourselves into trouble. You know the old saying, ÔWhat goes around, comes around.ÕÓ ÒWeÕre just girls,Ó Katie said. ÒWe can call the Police anonymously. The hot line. That would be fun, calling the hot line. You pay for our stuff and IÕll copy down that manÕs license plate. Then we can get him in trouble for buying X-Rated magazines.Ó ÒI donÕt know,Ó I said. But Katie dumped her junk food in my arms, and went to the store window. She watched the man leave the store. She watched him get in his car. When heÕd left, she came back to the counter, where I was paying for our food. ÒCan I borrow a pen?Ó Katie asked the clerk. ÒSure,Ó the clerk said. ÒJust grab one of those out of that jar there.Ó ÒThanks,Ó Katie said. ÒWhat are you doing?Ó I asked her. ÒIÕm writing down something important,Ó Katie told me. She winked at me. Outside, snacking on Doritos, Katie called the Police. She told the hot line that a man had been following little girls, and that sheÕd copied down his license plate. The hot line thanked her for her call. ÒThere, all done,Ó Katie beamed, hanging up the phone. ÒI just hope we donÕt get into trouble,Ó I told her. ÒWeÕre *girls*,Ó Katie assured me. ÒWe canÕt get in trouble.Ó ÒWhat about the Child Protective Services lady?Ó I asked her. ÒOh, yeah,Ó Katie said. ÒWell, except for her, that is. Come on, letÕs go to Hollywood and meet Arnold Schwarzenegger!Ó ÒI just hope nothing bad happens to us,Ó I told her. ÒNothing ever will!Ó Katie shouted. She skipped ahead of me, toward my new jeep, happily munching on a bag of Doritos. Noon came, and then afternoon. We were still driving. I wasnÕt sure how far California was from New York, but I began to suspect that it was farther than Katie, in charge of the map, had let on. I asked to look at the map but she assured me she knew how far it was. ÒAnyway, itÕs my map,Ó Katie added. I scowled, but kept driving. It was my jeep, at least, even if the map did belong to her. I followed the setting sun, as it sank over a distant range of mountains. Night approached. I found myself in a deep forest, climbing uphill, with Katie still refusing to let me look at the map. Large trees closed in around us. Their shadows deepened. At last we were engulfed in total darkness, with only the jeepÕs headlights giving us light. I could see no moon. The trees gathered thickly around us, blocking out the sky. ÒWhere are we?Ó Katie asked me. ÒHow should I know?Ó I replied. ÒYouÕre in charge of the map.Ó ÒI think weÕre lost,Ó Katie said. ÒOh, great!Ó I answered. I smelled a scent of cider on the air. ÒMaybe weÕre in Washington State,Ó I told her. ÒI smell apples.Ó ÒMe too!Ó Katie said. ÒI like apples.Ó I noticed there was a crunching of gravel under the tires of my jeep. ÒSay, when did we leave the road?Ó I asked Katie. ÒWeÕre on a road!Ó Katie answered. ÒA gravel road,Ó I told her. ÒWhen did we leave the main road?Ó ÒI dunno,Ó Katie said. ÒJust keep driving. WeÕll hook up with a main road in a minute or two.Ó ÒHow do you know that?Ó I asked her. ÒMy dad used to take me fishing, before my mom and him got divorced,Ó Katie said. She gazed around, in the complete darkness surrounding us. ÒYep. This place sorta reminds me of where we went fishing. Just keep going. I think I know where we are.Ó ÒOkay,Ó I said. Turning around wasnÕt an option, anyway. There were big ditches on either side of the road, I saw now. IÕd have risked putting my new jeep in a ditch if I tried to turn it around. And backing up would have been difficult, for I wasnÕt yet the greatest driver when it came to going backwards, especially on a road lined with ditches. On we went, deeper into the forest. It grew late. Katie asked me to stop. ÒI have to go to the bathroom,Ó she whispered. ÒWe should wait until we get to a gas station,Ó I told her. ÒThereÕs no gas station around here,Ó Katie told me. ÒAnd no people either. IÕll just slip out and go in the dark.Ó ÒOkay,Ó I said. I had to go too. I stopped the jeep. There wasnÕt any shoulder to pull over on, so I just parked it in the road. I left the engine running, and the lights on. The jeepÕs headlights were our only source of light. Katie and I peed on the edge of the ditch, crouched by the side of the road. Walking back to our jeep, she kicked at some of the gravel in the road. ÒIt smells sweet,Ó Katie said, kicking up the rocks. She stopped. She gazed down at her feet in the darkness. ÒThese rocks look purple,Ó Katie told me. She picked up a handful. She tried to examine them. ÒAnd they smell delicious. She put one up to her nose. Then, tentatively, she extended her tongue. ÒYum!Ó Katie said. She popped a rock in her mouth. She began to chew. ÒYouÕre eating rocks!Ó I told her. ÒThis isnÕt any ordinary rock... none of them are,Ó Katie said. She had a handful of them and she lifted the whole handful up to her nose. ÒThese are Wild Berry Pop Rocks!Ó Katie told me. ÒYummy!Ó She dumped the entire handful into her mouth. ÒYouÕre kidding,Ó I said. But there was no denying that Katie was eating rocks. Rocks straight from the road. I bent down, and scooped up a handful, though not as big a handful as she had. I was worried about breaking my nails. I sniffed the rocks. ÒThey do sort of smell like...Ó I began. I licked at the rocks in my hands. ÒThey are Pop Rocks!Ó I exclaimed. ÒHow on earth did we wind up on a gravel road made of Pop Rocks?Ó ÒI have no idea,Ó Katie said happily. Some time later, we sat in my jeep, quite full of Pop Rocks. Katie blew a bubble. ÒYou should have given your Candyland game to the Salvation Army,Ó I told her. ÒAnd you shouldnÕt have called the Police hot line just because you saw some guy buying X-Rated magazines at the 7/11.Ó ÒI have more bad news for you,Ó Katie told me. She pulled a package out of a pocket in her jeans. ÒSee this bag of Gummi Bears?Ó she asked me. ÒYes,Ó I said. ÒI stoleÕd it,Ó Katie told me. ÒWhat? You stole it? From the 7/11?Ó I asked her. ÒYep,Ó Katie said. ÒThatÕs three bad things youÕve done today,Ó I told her. ÒThatÕs like... like three strikes and youÕre out!Ó ÒI know,Ó Katie said. She gazed out past the front of my jeep. The headlights of my jeep blazed into the gloom of the forest, their beams quickly lost amongst the thicket of trees that hemmed in the road. ÒWhat goes up comes down,Ó she said. ÒWhat goes around, comes around,Ó I told her. ÒIÕm full of Pop Rocks,Ó she confessed to me. ÒSo am I,Ó I answered. ÒWell, drive on,Ó Katie said. ÒMaybe some rich guy lined the road with Pop Rocks, for some strange reason. Maybe he could help us get unlost, if we find him.Ó ÒOkay,Ó I said. I started the jeepÕs engine. I looked at her. ÒI just hope he isnÕt as bad as you are. Otherwise, weÕre really in trouble!Ó ÒYeah. He might steal me, like I stole the Gummi Bears,Ó Katie agreed. The trees grew denser. The road continued to crunch underneath my tires. When I stopped, and got out again, I found we were still driving on Wild Berry Pop Rocks. Katie gazed up at the overhanging branches of the trees. ÒBambi?Ó she said to me, in a quiet voice. ÒYes?Ó I asked, standing on a road made of Pop Rocks, examining a handful of them. ÒYouÕre not gonna bÕlieve this,Ó Katie said, quite seriously. ÒWhat? Did you steal something else?Ó I asked her. ÒNope,Ó Katie said. ÒBut there are candy apples hanging from the branches of the trees.Ó ÒYouÕre kidding!Ó I said. I looked up. Normally I might have been happy. After all, I loved candy apples. But this was getting way too weird. It was hard to imagine an entire road made of Pop Rocks. Now the trees around us were growing candy apples? We ate our fill of candy apples. ÒThis isnÕt a bad place,Ó Katie said. ÒI just wish I knew where we were,Ó I replied. ÒIÕm sleepy,Ó Katie said. ÒMe too,Ó I answered. ÒI think I have a tummy ache,Ó Katie said. ÒMe too,Ó I answered. We threw up in the ditch by the side of the road. I sensed light. My eyes popped open. It was morning. Sunlight shafted down through the dense trees. There was a maple leaf in my lap. It was gold. I gazed at it, thinking, ÔWell of course. ItÕs autumn.Õ Then, looking closer, I realized the leaf was made of gold foil. I picked it up, out of my lap. I peeled back the gold foil. Inside, there was a very thin layer of chocolate! I pinched myself. Hard. Nothing happened. So I unwrapped the leaf and popped it in my mouth. It was delicious. Looking up, I saw we were parked under a canopy of gold leaves. From the branches of the trees hung red candy apples. I leaned over the side of my jeep. The road was still made of Wild Berry Pop Rocks, just like the night before. Gazing around me, I saw a sign. It was a sign that looked wooden but, when I peered at it more deliberately, I saw that it wasnÕt made of wood, but of peanut brittle. Printed on the sign, in quaint-looking letters, that looked for all the world to be made of black licorice, was the word, ÒCandylandÓ. Beneath it, in smaller letters, were the words, ÒCitadel 307ksÓ I grabbed KatieÕs arm. Sleepily, she opened her eyes. There was a stick in her hands, the candy apple eaten off it the night before. Her palms and the front of her shirt were purple, from eating Wild Berry Pop Rocks. ÒKatie!Ó I cried. ÒWeÕre in fucking Candyland!Ó Òhuh?Ó Katie asked. She had pop rock gum in her mouth. She began chewing it. ÒKatie,Ó I said. ÒLook! Look at that sign. WeÕre not just on some road some rich guy covered with pop rocks. WeÕre actually in Candyland!Ó Katie raised herself up in her seat, quickly. She gazed past me, at the sign I was pointing to. ÒIt says, it says ÔCandylandÕ!Ó Katie said. ÒWeÕre in Candyland, Katie!Ó I told her. ÒI canÕt bÕlieve it,Ó Katie said. Her eyes were wide. We stared at the sign, together. Katie pinched herself. Then she pinched me. ÒOW!Ó I cried. I pinched her back. ÒOW!Ó Katie said. Then, she added, ÒThe sign still says Candyland.Ó ÒWeÕre going to have some major explaining to do when we get home to your mother,Ó I told her. ÒYeah. And we might have to see the dentist too,Ó Katie said. When we got over our shock at being in Candyland, I tried starting my jeep. ÒDamn!Ó I said. ÒI canÕt believe it.Ó ÒWhatÕs the matter?Ó Katie asked. She was standing on the seat, picking another candy apple off the overhanging branches. ÒI fell asleep with the headlights on, and now my batteryÕs dead,Ó I told her. ÒWell, we could be lost in a worse place,Ó Katie said. She bit into the candy apple sheÕd picked. ÒYum! These sure are good!Ó ÒDonÕt eat so many that you throw up,Ó I warned her. ÒOh, yeah,Ó Katie said. She munched more slowly. I tried starting my jeep again. ÒThis is ridiculous,Ó I confessed, when I found, after many tries, that I absolutely could not get my jeep to start. ÒWell at least weÕre lost in a yummy place,Ó Katie told me. ÒYeah,Ó I said. ÒLetÕs just get out and follow the road on foot,Ó Katie said. ÒMaybe weÕre pretty close to Hollywood. We drove a lot yesterday.Ó ÒOkay,Ó I agreed, though I had my doubts about the proximity of Hollywood to our location. One thing was for sure, though. There was a forest full of candy apples surrounding us. As long as we liked apples, and pop rocks, and chocolate leaves, weÕd have plenty of food to subsist on. Not to mention the sign. Katie got out of the jeep and went over to it and took a bite out of it. ÒYum,Ó Katie said. ÒLeave the peanut butter in the jeep. I can just take along part of this sign.Ó ÒKatie! You shouldnÕt break it!Ó I told her. But it was too late. She broke off a big chunk of the sign. She began eating it. A low growl came from within the trees. ÒWhatÕs that?Ó Katie asked me. She stopped chewing. There was peanut brittle smeared over her cheeks. She gazed at me with large, wondering eyes. ÒIt sounds like a bear,Ó I confessed. Suddenly, a crashing of underbrush was heard, accompanied by another growl. ÒYEEEEK!Ó Katie cried. A huge, furry, purple figure emerged from the trees right behind her. ÒWhoÕs damaging my forest?!Ó the bear-like figure cried. I jumped from my jeep and ran to the ditch along the side of the road. Katie ran to the ditch and jumped in with me. The bear stopped. It sniffed at the sweet-smelling air. It dropped to all fours, no longer standing upright. It gazed about, but appeared to be near-sighted, or something, for it did not see Katie or follow her dashing figure over to the ditch. ÒWhoÕs damaging my forest?Ó the figure asked again, as if of the trees themselves. ÒWhatÕs that?Ó I asked Katie. ÒI dunno,Ó Katie answered. ÒWhoÕs that talking?!Ó the bear inquired. It sniffed the air. ÒItÕs big, and purple...Ó I said as quietly as I could to Katie. ÒI know,Ó Katie whispered. ÒPurple?Ó the bear asked. ÒPurple? Of course IÕm purple! IÕm a berry bear! Who are you?Ó Katie found her courage and said, ÒIÕm Katie. AnÕ IÕm in Candyland. Is that your sign?Ó The bear emitted a low growl. ÒOf course itÕs my sign,Ó the bear said. ÒIÕm the keeper of the forest. I have to fix the signs if people eat them. What if somebody else needs directions, after youÕve passed through? What will they do? Will I just have to tell them, ÔSorry, but somebody ate the sign?ÕÓ ÒNo. Tell them Katie Pepperdine ate the sign,Ó Katie said. ÒThat wonÕt do them much good, if they need to know how far it is to the Citadel. Especially if IÕm not around,Ó the bear answered. ÒOf course, I try to be around here if I can, since this is the forestÕs edge, or near enough, you know, so that if anyone comes by, itÕs here theyÕll land first.Ó I raised my head from the ditch. I let the bear see me. Though he didnÕt appear to see too well, mostly relying on his hearing. ÒIs the exit back there?Ó I asked him. ÒCan we walk back, and get out of this place?Ó ÒHmmm,Ó the bear growled. ÒYou sound human. Are you human?Ó ÒYes! WeÕre humans. WeÕre girls!Ó Katie said eagerly. ÒWe donÕt belong in Candyland,Ó I told the bear. ÒEven if it is a yummy place,Ó Katie said. The bear stood on all fours, in the road. He sniffed at the pop rocks. ÒIf youÕre human,Ó the bear said at last, ÒthatÕs both good and bad. Good, because you can save Candyland. But bad, because youÕre not supposed to be here.Ó He paused. He sniffed again at the pop rocks lining the roadbed. ÒDid you--Ó he paused. ÒNot to impugn your integrity. But did you, by any chance, steal a bag of Gummi Bears?Ó ÒYes,Ó Katie admitted. ÒFrom the 7/11.Ó She pulled the bag of them from a pocket in her jeans. They looked slightly squashed. SheÕd opened the bag, and eaten some of them. ÒYou can have the rest back,Ó Katie told the bear. ÒI only ate about half of them.Ó The bear only sniffed the air in reply. At last he asked, ÒDid you, by any chance, fail to do something good, and perhaps do something bad, *as well* as steal a bag of Gummi Bears?Ó ÒWell,Ó Katie said, considering. ÒI could have given my Candyland game to the Salvation Army, but instead I threw it in the trash. And I told the hot line that a guy buying X-Rated magazines at the 7/11 was a child molester!Ó ÒThatÕll do it,Ó the bear said. ÒNo wonder youÕre here. YouÕve passed through the veil of mists, and thereÕs no getting back to where you came from, except through the Peppermint Portal. ThatÕs in the Citadel. The Citadel of Sweets.Ó ÒOh,Ó I said. I gazed at the half-eaten sign. It said, ÒCit,Ó and under that, Ò30Ó. The rest had been broken off by Katie. But I remembered the distance. Ò307ks to the Citadel,Ó I said to the berry bear. ÒIs that the Citadel of Sweets?Ó ÒYes indeed,Ó the bear said. ÒSo how far... how far is 307ks?Ó I asked. The bear pawed at the pop rocks in the road. ÒWell,Ó he said, at last. Ò307ks means 307 kisses. Like HersheyÕs Kisses. Lined up end to end, you know. Except ks is a muliple, actually. A multiple of... something,Ó he said. Ò3, or 10, or perhaps 22.Ó ÒTwenty-two?Ó Katie asked. Ò307 times 22 equals a lot!Ó ÒI know,Ó the bear said. ÒMore than I can figure, anyway. But it is some distance, thatÕs for sure.Ó He looked at my jeep. ÒCan you drive?Ó ÒI can drive, but the batteryÕs dead,Ó I told the bear. ÒYouÕll have to walk then,Ó the bear said. ÒHowÕre we gonna carry all our stuff?Ó Katie asked. ÒYou canÕt,Ó the bear said. ÒBut donÕt worry. While youÕre in Candyland, youÕll be a little different from when you were back where you came from. For one thing, you wonÕt need to eat food. Just candy. And when you, um, sorry to be indecent... but when you piss, youÕll be pissing lemonade. And your, um, your turds... well, theyÕll be made of chocolate.Ó ÒYummie!Ó Katie exclaimed. ÒThat makes me want to go to the bathroom right now! IÕm thirsty for some lemonade!Ó ÒNo! No!Ó the bear cautioned. ÒDonÕt actually drink your pee. ItÕs not good for you. After all, it came out of you, so you donÕt want to be putting it back into you. DonÕt eat... sorry to have to say this, girls. But donÕt eat your turds, okay?Ó ÒYuck!Ó Katie admitted. ÒRight,Ó the bear agreed. ÒYuckÕs the word. DonÕt drink your piss or eat your poop. Otherwise, you should do okay. After all, this is Candyland. As long as you like candy, thereÕll be plenty to eat.Ó The bear helped us get our things out of the jeep. We couldnÕt carry everything. We gave him what we couldnÕt carry. ÒCan you come with us?Ó Katie asked him, when weÕd loaded ourselves down with as much as we could carry. ÒNo, as the forest keeper, IÕve got to stay where I am,Ó the bear said. ÒOther lost children who still believe in Candyland might show up here. ItÕs possible, though it happens only infrequently. But itÕs my duty as keeper of the forest to help anyone who does show up.Ó He grinned. ÒA duty bestowed on me personally, by the Sultan,Ó he added. ÒWhere is this Sultan?Ó I asked. The bear frowned. ÒThat, IÕm afraid, is a very sad story. The Licorice Lad, who lives in Licorice Loch... well, he used to live there... the Licorice Lad has imprisoned the Sultan in his own dungeon, and set himself up as Sultan instead. Not that heÕs doing a very good job,Ó the bear added. ÒFor one thing, youÕre here. That shouldnÕt happen, ordinarily, even if you werenÕt the two goodest girls back where you came from. But now, with Licorice Lad in charge, well, most anything could happen, I suppose. I do hope Candyland isnÕt invaded by a whole host of you humans. Mostly we get visited by little girls and boys, and then only rarely, in their dreams. But two teenage girls?Ó the bear paused. He sniffed at us. We stood before him, clad in our jeans, me in my Fuck Decency t-shirt and Katie in her Ozzy Osbourne shirt that sheÕd gotten from MTV for entering the ÒBe Obscene with OzzyÓ contest. ÒHmmm.Ó the bear said. ÒI have a bad feeling about this.Ó ÒWhy?Ó Katie asked. ÒWell, thereÕs various ways one can enter Candyland,Ó the bear said. ÒIÕd have to consult the SultanÕs Book of State to know them all. But being a little kid, and dreaming of us, is one way. Or stealing Gummi Bears, and doing something bad, and failing to do something good, is another way. And then...Ó the bear paused. ÒThere is another way. And it would take someone like the Licorice Lad to do it, too.Ó ÒWhat?Ó I asked. ÒHmmm,Ó the bear pawed at the pop rock road. ÒBy doing something bad, and failing to do something good, and stealing Gummi Bears, you made yourselves eligible for coming to Candyland. Now, ordinarily, the Sultan wouldnÕt have someone in, just for that. But, by being eligible, you fell prey to the Licorice Lad, since heÕs in charge now. And, well, IÕm afraid... Well, girls. I think he may have kidnapped you. And not to play Candyland with you, either. After all, youÕre both teenage girls. He may have something up his sleeve that involves parts of your bodies that you normally keep clothed. HeÕs a bad one, that Licorice Lad.Ó ÒYou mean, like, he may have brought us to Candyland to fuck us?Ó I asked the bear. ÒExactly,Ó the bear said. ÒAnd heÕs got hordes of Gingermen at his disposal, since heÕs now the Sultan of Candyland. Normally the Gingermen help little girls and boys, if they need it, while theyÕre visiting Candyland. But now, since Licorice Lad is Sultan, he can make them do his bidding. He could have patrols of Gingermen out looking for you right now. You wouldnÕt want to get caught by them. Not now, for theyÕd take you straight to Licorice Lad, where, like I say, heÕd do indecent things to you.Ó ÒThat sounds scary,Ó I said. ÒYeah,Ó Katie agreed. The bear sniffed the air. ÒGet down!Ó he said suddenly, in a low growl. ÒHuh?Ó I asked. I dropped to my knees in the pop rock road. ÒGet under your jeep,Ó the bear added. Quickly I crawled underneath it. Katie scrambled in after me. I heard a fluttering sound. I peeked out from under the jeep. I saw two gold-colored birds moving through the branches. The bear growled at them, very loudly. Katie let out a small, soft yelp and pressed herself against me. After a while, the bear told us we could come out from under my jeep. ÒWhat was that all about?Ó Katie asked. ÒThere were some butterscotch bats, flying in amongst the trees,Ó the bear told us. ÒThey work for Licorice Lad. If ever you smell butterscotch, hide! It could be nothing, or it could be those bats. TheyÕre looking for you, I reckon, just like the gingermen are.Ó ÒWhat will they do to us if they find us?Ó Katie asked, wide-eyed. ÒReport you to Licorice Lad, of course, or to his gingermen. Then youÕll be found and taken to him.Ó ÒYikes!Ó I said. ÒThey used to hang out in the Cocoa Cave, near the Licorice Loch, but now theyÕre free to roam the realm,Ó the bear said. He shook his muzzled head. ÒI do wish I could go with you girls. But then thereÕd be nobody here, if any other children should pass by. Or, considering Licorice Lad is in charge, teenage girls. I do hope no other teenage girls back in your world steal gummi bears, and do something bad, and fail to do something good. IÕm mostly used to dealing just with little children. And not children in danger of being kidnapped, either. Just children who want directions on touring Candyland, and would like to visit the Sultan. Mostly, I can just pass them along to the gingermen. But not now. Now everything is topsy turvy. The gingermen are bad, the bats are loose, and youÕre here.Ó The bear shook his head. ÒWhatÕs your name?Ó Katie asked. ÒOh, yes,Ó the bear grinned. His teeth showed. ÒBoswell the Berry Bear, thatÕs me. If you ever need help--Ó He shook his head. ÒWell, not much I can do, in that department, I guess. IÕve got to stay here. Mostly I stay here anyway, but, you know, nowadays, sometimes I feel like the last sane creature alive in Candyland. Everyone else seems to slowly be falling under Licorice LadÕs spell. ThatÕs the power of the SultanÕs throne. Sitting there, in the Citadel of Sweets, wearing the Candy Crown, with all the different types of candy in it, like a big turban encrusted with jewels, you have great power in Candyland. But IÕm far away, so it takes a long time for his power to influence me. But beware of anyone else you meet. They may be sweet, but it could be a trap. Like treacle, designed to win you over so they can do you in. Some may still be on the SultanÕs side, as they should be. But others may not be.Ó ÒWhat do you mean?Ó I asked. ÒWell, take me, for instance,Ó Boswell said. ÒIÕd like everyone to love bears. And to eat candy apples. But the Gumdrop Guy, who looks like several Michelin Tires stacked on top of each other, just in case you should see him, heÕd like everyone in your world to eat gumdrops. Gumdrops and nothing but gumdrops. And Peppermint Pete, who lives amidst the Peppermint Pines, heÕd like for everyone in your world to eat nothing but peppermint sticks. Not just at Christmas, but year round.Ó ÒI donÕt think I could eat peppermint sticks all year,Ó Katie said. ÒI like gummi bears too.Ó ÒYes! Gummi bears. Yum!Ó Boswell Bear agreed. ÒNow, usually, weÕre quite understanding of each other. We realize that humans need to eat different types of candy. But not now. Licorice Lad has Peppermint Pete thinking all the humans can be made to like peppermint, and nothing but peppermint. And the same for the Gumdrop Guy. And Peanut Brittle Polly... sheÕs such a sweet soul. But she may have fallen under Licorice LadÕs spell too. He may have her thinking that in your world everyone can be made to eat no other candy but peanut brittle.Ó ÒI definitely donÕt want to eat nothing but peanut brittle all year,Ó Katie said. ÒMe too,Ó I agreed. ÒWell, being human, neither of you are under Licorice LadÕs spell,Ó Boswell told us. ÒNot automatically, that is. He canÕt just sit in the SultanÕs throne, and put on the SultanÕs turban, and ensconse himself there in the Citadel and send out conforming brain waves that make you fall under his spell. Up close and personal, of course, it might be another matter. Licorice LadÕs quite powerful, now that heÕs Sultan. ÒBut how do we get home?Ó Katie asked Boswell. ÒYou must free the Sultan, for heÕs the only one who knows how to operate the Peppermint Portal,Ó Boswell said. ÒItÕs very powerful, for it allows humans like yourselves to transport yourselves back to where you came from.Ó He grinned. ÒDonÕt steal any more gummi bears when you get back there.Ó ÒWe wonÕt!Ó Katie said. ÒYou mean *you* wonÕt,Ó I told her. ÒWhat am I doing here?Ó I asked Boswell. ÒSimple,Ó Boswell said. ÒYou were standing, or perhaps sitting, next to her when Licorice Lad brought her through the veil of mists. If youÕre close enough, youÕll be pulled through the vortex along with her. Especially if you knew of the bad thing, and knew of the good thing that wasnÕt done, and were there when your friend stole the gummi bears.Ó ÒIÕm afraid I was,Ó I said glumly. ÒYes. Obviously,Ó Boswell said. ÒWell, we could talk on this all day, I suppose. But you must be going. If you wish to get back home, that is. And if you want to stay out of the clutches of Licorice Lad.Ó ÒWe definitely donÕt want to be with him,Ó Katie said. She was holding a candy apple, and she bit into it. ÒHe sounds like that guy who bought those X-Rated magazines at the 7/11.Ó ÒYeah,Ó I agreed. ÒWell, Licorice Lad is about 15,Ó Boswell said. ÒA most anti-social fellow, I must admit, except for those bats he has. Once I saw him fooling around with some pop rocks in the road. I asked him what he was doing, chewing all those pop rocks, and piling them up into neat little piles. He looked like he was making figurines. Or statues. He told me he was hoping to make Bubblegum Babes. ThatÕs what he said. Bubblegum Babes, that he could do wicked things to.Ó ÒYikes!Ó I said. ÒI donÕt want to be his Bubblegum Babe,Ó Katie said frankly. ÒMe neither,Ó I said. ÒThen get as quickly as you can to the Citadel,Ó Boswell told us. ÒAnd be careful. For, once youÕre there, it still wonÕt be easy. YouÕll have to find a way to free the Sultan and restore him to his throne. Travel by day, if you can. The bats will be out mostly at night. Only a few can fly during the day. But be careful in the daytime too, for thatÕs when the gingermen will be most likely to be searching. They used to like sleeping late, but IÕll bet Licorice Lad has them up bright and early now. There are many pop rock paths to the Citadel. DonÕt take the most obvious one. Switch around, and go through the trees, and over the meadows, and up thorugh the mountain passes.Ó ÒDo you have a map?Ó I asked Boswell. ÒNo,Ó Boswell said. ÒThat was the gingermenÕs job, to help little children along their way. The Sultan had a big coach that heÕd come and pick me up in, on those rare times when IÕd get to go to the Citadel.Ó ÒWell,Ó I said, looking at Katie. ÒLike it or not, it looks like weÕre on our own.Ó Katie sniffed the air. ÒWe could be in a worse place than Candyland,Ó Katie said. ÒAnd licorice isnÕt such a bad candy.Ó ÒBeware!Ó Boswell said. ÒThatÕs the sort of spell Licorice Lad can cast on your mind, now that heÕs the Sultan.Ó Boswell sighed. ÒHe must be more powerful than IÕd imagined. Beware of licorice, girls. Try not to eat it. Try not even to think about it! Especially black licorice. ThatÕs Licorice LadÕs favorite color-- black!Ó ÒYick!Ó Katie said. ÒRight,Ó Boswell agreed. ÒCan anyone help us?Ó I asked. I was beginning to feel desperate. Katie had managed to get us lost, after all, and her sudden, if momentary, attraction to licorice seemed ominous. ÒWell,Ó Boswell said. ÒThereÕs Lolita. She lives on Lollipop Lane, along the shores of the Lollipop Lagoon. SheÕs the SultanÕs eldest daughter. SheÕs powerful, but only enough to keep her own realm free of gingermen. She doesnÕt have the power to free her father, or unseat Licorice Lad from his throne. And then thereÕs her younger sister, whoÕs still quite little. SheÕs Pauline Praline. She lives in the Isles of Ice, out on the Sea of Cream. SheÕd be no use to you, though. SheÕs just a little first grader, still learning her numbers, and her alphabet. No doubt sheÕs long since fallen under Licorice LadÕs spell. SheÕd want everyone in your world to eat ice cream all their lives. ÒMmmm,Ó Katie said. ÒKatie!Ó I cried. ÒWeÕve got to get back home. Quit thinking about your tummy.Ó ÒOh, yeah,Ó Katie said. She popped more gummi bears in her mouth. ÒFortunately I stole a whole bag of these.Ó ÒTut,Ó Boswell said. He looked glum. ÒYou two may be our only hope. Good luck to you. YouÕd better be going. IÕll walk with you part way, but then IÕll have to turn back. Others might be along, you know. Anything can happen, with Licorice Lad in charge.Ó ÒThatÕs a boy for you,Ó Katie agreed. ÒYes,Ó I said. 30 ----------------------- Dreamgirls! ----------------------- -Back issues (and stories): type http://www.dejanews.com/ into your browserÕs ÒLocationÓ window. Press your ÒreturnÓ key. Click on ÒPower SearchÓ in the middle of the screen. Next, Type in: roller666@earthlink.net in the box that appears. Click on ÒfindÓ (the button to the right of the box). -Other providers: Usenet Newsgroup: alt.sex.stories.moderated or by e-mail: file.request@backdrop.com or via the Web: http://www.netusa.net/~eli/erotica/assm/ -When visiting Barnes and Noble, ask for: Jock SturgesÕ Radiant Identities and David HamiltonÕs The Age of Innocence. Support art! -Also by David Hamilton: A Place in the Sun, and Twenty Five Years of an Artist Need a book? http://www.amazon.com - JOIN the worldÕs greatest organization! Send $35.00 to The North American Man/Boy Love Association for a one-year membership. NAMBLA, P.O. Box 174, Midtown Station, New York, NY 10018. -Naughty Naked Dreamgirls (Library of Congress ISSN: 1070-1427) is copyright 1998 and a trademark of Andrew Roller. -END OF story EMISSION