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From: Andrew Roller <roller39@IDT.NET>
Subject: 11 Bikini Brigade part 11 of 22 (NND) dec13
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_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/
Andrew Roller Presents
NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS
in
BIKINI BRIGADE
_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/
Chapter Eleven
We watched the sun rise on the beach. Our lollipops hovered
over the sand, waiting for us to mount them again. Katie was building a
sand castle. It was made of white sugar.
“Imagine that! A whole sea made of soda pop!” Katie told me.
I sat a little distance away, watching the sun rise.
“Yes,” I said. “It must be the Soda Sea. The one Freddie told
us about.” At my back stood tall bluffs. Above them were grasslands.
Running through them was the main pop rock road. We’d flown down out of
the mountains the previous night and then, finding this beach in the
dark, we’d decided to sleep for awhile.
I gazed at the sun. I looked over at Katie, shoving sand into
the shape of a castle. She was working on the first tower and I doubted
she’d have time to build any more than that. We couldn’t stay for long.
“Katie,” I said. “Now that it’s light again, and we’ve slept a
little, don’t you think we should be going?”
“Ohhh, let’s just stay here all day,” Katie said. “We can
play, and build sand castles, and especially we can go swimming in that
yummie sea!”
“But what about Freddie? And Princess Lolita?” I asked. Katie
paused.
“Well, I guess you’re right,” Katie said. “It’s sad, though.
We’re always hurrying. Or we’re prisoners. We’ve hardly gotten to play
in Candyland at all!” She gazed at the rising sun. “Hey! What’s
that?” she asked.
“It’s the sun, silly,” I said.
“No, that!” Katie said. She pointed. A figure seemed to come
out of the sun. It flew low along the water. It seemed to be trying to
rise higher, but it could not. As it flew toward us it clipped some of
the waves. Then it ploughed into the ocean, quite near us. It
struggled amidst the waves. At last, rolling, letting the waves carry
it, it rolled ashore near where we were sitting. It was a small
eclair. It seemed to be clutching something in its pee hole.
“Look! A pony! An eclair pony!” Katie cried. She ran over to
where it lay on the wet sand. It dropped the two objects it was holding
in its pee hole mouth. I got up and ran over to it. Katie knelt down
beside it. “He’s all covered with white, sticky goo,” Katie said. And,
indeed, all along one side of the eclair was white paste. Katie stuck
her finger into it and tasted it. “It tastes like marshmellows,” Katie
told me.
“It’s marshmellow goo,” the eclair mumbled. It spoke to us
through its pee hole. “The troll-- the troll shot it at me.”
“Here, we can wash it off,” Katie said. “You don’t have any
hands, that’s the problem.” Katie leapt up and ran into the Soda Sea.
She cupped her hands and came back up the sand and dumped a handful of
soda on the eclair.
“Thanks,” the ecliar said. I rubbed where Katie had dropped
the soda.
“If I rub, and she keeps getting more soda, we just might wash
all this goop off you,” I told the eclair. “Then you can fly again.”
“Yes,” the eclair said. His big penis head seemed to give a
slight nod. He looked very tired. He seemed to be falling asleep under
me. “Thank you for helping me,” the eclair said.
“What are those things you were holding in your mouth?” I asked
the eclair. They lay in the sand. Katie looked at them.
“They look like guns!” Katie said.
“It’s what the troll used to shoot me,” the eclair whinnied.
“Guns are icky,” Katie said. “You should take them someplace
and drop them where they’ll never be found!” She turned and ran back
down to the waves to fetch more soda with her hands.
“Yes,” the eclair agreed, not realizing she’d dashed back down
to the sea. “They are icky. They shoot icky goop that gets all over me
and makes it hard for me to fly.”
“Where will you put them?” I asked the eclair, rubbing him.
“Not in Marshmellow Marsh, that’s for sure,” the eclair said.
“Maybe the ocean. But I don’t want them to wash back up on shore
again.”
Katie splashed more soda on the eclair.
“Put them someplace goopey!” Katie said. “Goopier even than
you are.”
“Molasses Marsh,” the eclair wheezed. “Yes. That’s the
place. Then Molasses Moe could guard them for me. He likes everybody
to be nice. He’d never let them have things to shoot people with.”
“Then put them there,” I told the eclair, rubbing his long
flank. “Put them in that place. You’re a very fine eclair and I don’t
want to ever see you hurt again!”
“Yes!” Katie agreed.
“Oh, it’s not that it hurts,” the eclair said. “It doesn’t
hurt me. It’s just very sticky and it makes it hard for me to fly. But
if you can wash it off me, then I’ll be okay.”
“Still, I’d get rid of the guns,” I told the eclair.
“Yes. Unless you really need them,” Katie agreed.
“No. I don’t need them,” the eclair said. “I just need to be
able to fly.”
“Well, we’ll get you all washed off,” I told the eclair, and,
indeed, we were making progress. “Then you’ll be all better.”
“Thank you,” the eclair said in a low, tired, whinnying voice.
They were in a room of the fort. Princess Lolita lay on a
bed. She was unconscious. Her head was swathed in bandages. Sitting
near her, on the floor, with his arms tied behind his back, was
Freddie. His face had bruises on it. A bat squatted nearby, eyeing
him. In Freddie’s big chair sat Gumdrop Guy. There was a big crack in
the wall behind him. The fire had grown cold, but nobody seemed to
notice. The room was crowded with lollipop people and gingermen.
“Freddie Fruitcake, you are a traitor to the realm,” Gumdrop
Guy said. He pointed one of his pudgy fingers at the man. Then he
popped a gumdrop in his mouth and began chewing it. “A traitor, I say!
You’ve betrayed Licorice Lad by not taking those two girls to him!”
“I suppose you know it’s impolite to speak with food in your
mouth,” Freddie said to Gumdrop Guy.
“This isn’t food. It’s gumdrops,” Gumdrop Guy said. He popped
another one in his mouth. “And don’t speak when I’m speaking. I’m
sending all you traitors to the Citadel, to be tried by Licorice Lad.”
“That sounds like fun,” Freddie said. He spat on the ground.
“You had your chance to have fun, eating gumdrops!” Gumdrop Guy
said. “But no, you prefer fruitcake, don’t you? Well, now you’ll get
to enjoy bread and water, in the Sultan’s dungeon. Perhaps even a visit
from the royal axe!” Gumdrop Guy said. With a flourish he passed his
finger across his chest, where his throat might have been, if he had
one, which he didn’t.
“Off with all our heads, eh?” Freddie asked.
“That’s right!” Gumdrop Guy said. He lifted a finger into the
sky. “Off with your heads! That’s what I’d say, if I were Sultan. But
of course I’m content just to sit and eat gumdrops. The gingermen will
have to take you there. You at once,” he pointed to Freddie. “And your
Gingerman Autonomists, and all her retainers.” Gumdrop Guy looked at
Princess Lolita, lying on the bed. “I’m going to feed her lots of
gumdrops and, when it’s safe for her to travel again, perhaps she’ll go
too. If not, I could always use a wife.”
“What? You’re going to force Lolita to marry you?” Freddie
asked.
“No,” Gumdrop Guy said. He popped another gumdrop in his
mouth. “But she’s injured, and can’t be moved. Who knows? She may
grow to like me.” He looked at a gingerman standing near him. “Take
the rest of them to your master, Licorice Lad. Our new Sultan. And
don’t forget to tell him the instrumental role I played in capturing
these prisoners!”
“Yes, great Gumdrop Guy,” the gingerman replied.
At noon we glided in over fields of peanuts. We sat astraddle
our lollipops. The fields spread out before us, laden with a heavy
crop. They looked ready to be harvested. I saw small houses. They
were made of peanut brittle.
“Where are we now?” Katie called to me.
“I’m not sure,” I answered. But if we just follow the main pop
rock road, I think we’ll eventually reach the Citadel.”
“It sure is fun flying over the road!” Katie said.
“Yes,” I agreed. “It’s a lot faster than walking.”
We landed in a field near a small house. Like the rest, it was
made of peanut brittle. A peanut came scurrying down the road. He was
the size of a small child. He was wearing short pants.
“Look! A person! A peanut person,” Katie called to me. She
pointed with her finger.
“Let’s ask him if he knows where the Citadel is,” I told her.
The peanut came up to us. He looked at us, sitting on our
lollipops. We floated a few feet over the road.
“Who are you?” the peanut asked.
“I’m Katie Pepperdine,” Katie said. She pointed to herself.
Then she pointed at me. “An’ that’s Bambi. We’re the Bikini Brigade!”
The peanut stared at us. “I think I’ve heard of you,” the
peanut said. “Come with me. I’ve someone who wishes to meet you.”
I looked at Katie.
“Do you know where the Citadel is?” I called to the peanut.
Already he was walking back up the road, expecting us to follow him.
“Yes, yes!” The peanut called over his shoulder. “Come on.
Just a few houses up. Peanut Brittle Polly and some other ladies have
been asking about you.” I looked at Katie again. I was worried the
peanut might take us to Licorice Lad.
“Ladies, or a boy?” I called after the peanut.
“Huh?” the peanut asked. He turned and looked back at us, but
motioned with his arm for us to follow, and kept walking.
“Do you work for Licorice Lad?” Katie asked him, bluntly.
“Huh? No! You’re in Peanut Province,” the peanut replied.
“Licorice Lad isn’t here. He’s far away, at the Citadel.”
I turned to Katie. “Sounds safe,” I said. “Let’s go.” We
glided forward on our lollipops, following the peanut.
We passed down the roadway, alongside peanut fields and between
peanut brittle homes. I sniffed the air. The scent of peanuts was all
around us. Peanuts began coming out of the houses, to see who was
passing by. A peanut waved to us.
“That was fun, helping that eclair,” Katie said to me as we
glided down the roadway on our lollipops.
“Yes,” I agreed. “It’s always fun, helping people.”
“We’ll I’ve done a good deed now, instead of just bad ones,”
Katie grinned.
“I just hope the eclair finds someplace good to put those
guns,” I said.
“He told me that as soon as he rested he would throw them in
Molasses Moor, wherever that is,” Katie said.
“I think it’s someplace near the Citadel,” I said. “I told him
we were headed there. Maybe he’ll catch up to us.”
“He seems like a trustworthy animal,” Katie told me. “Maybe
he’ll go along with us!”
“Maybe,” I said. “He was really tired, though. It’s good we
let him rest on the beach.”
“Yes,” Katie agreed. “Well, hopefully we might see him again
someday. I liked him. I hope nobody else shoots him!”
More peanuts appeared from their homes. They waved. I waved
back.
“Hi, peanuts!” Katie said, waving at all the peanuts that were
now waving to us.
“Hi,” I said.
“There sure are a lot of peanuts!” Katie remarked to me.
“Yeah,” I said. “I feel like I’m at a peanut convention.”
We came to a small, old home with a tidy lawn and a crooked
fence. Part of the fence had fallen down. Apprently no one felt the
need to put it back up again. Some dandelions were growing around the
wood lying in the grass.
“Park your, um, lollipops and come inside,” the peanut leading
the way called to us. We dismounted. We left our lollipops floating in
the roadway and walked up a small path made of nuts to the front door of
the house. The peanut had already knocked on the front door for us. It
swung open as we stepped up onto the front porch.
“Why, hello girls,” a sweet old lady’s voice said. “I’ve been
hearing a lot about you. Come inside!”
Freddie Fruitcake gazed up at the leaden sky. Snow was falling
in his face. He wanted to wipe it away, but his hands were bound behind
him. He trudged through the snow. He was in a column of gingermen.
They were all members of the Gingerman Autonomy movement. They were
hardly autonomous now. Each of them had their hands bound behind him
with strands of licorice. Behind them trailed another group. They were
Princess Lolita’s retainers. Each of them was now a prisoner too, and
had his hands tied behind him. Gingermen, loyal to Licorice Lad,
marched outside the column.
“Move along, you traitors!” one of the gingermen called out.
He gave Freddie a shove. “Move along, traitor!” he said to Freddie.
“Your hospitality amazes me,” Freddie said.
“Quiet! No speaking!” the gingerman bellowed.
Freddie gazed past the hunched gingerman in front of him, whose
hands were bound, and on down the mountainside. It was a long way to
the Citadel. They would have to walk for miles through snow and sugar,
until finally they were down on the meadows below. Then it would be
east, along the coast of the Soda Sea. Miles and miles, just to wind up
being harangued by Licorice Lad, and to land, if he was lucky, in the
dungeon. If he was not lucky, and he didn’t expect to be, he’d be
beheaded by the royal axe.
“A long trip, leading straight to my grave,” Freddie Fruitcake
muttered. “Just what I needed.”
“Why are they still alive?” Licorice Lad yelled. He was
standing in the dungeon. He was gazing at a cell full of Peanut Power
People. “And where’s my bed?!”
“Master, we cannot find the royal axe,” a gingerman said.
Licorice Lad turned to him.
“The royal what?” Licorice Lad asked.
“The royal axe,” another gingerman said. “We cannot execute
people without the royal axe!”
“Fuck the royal axe!” Licorice Lad said. “Just kill them!”
“But we must follow protocol, master,” the first gingerman
protested.
Licorice Lad stamped his foot. “I want all the prisoners
executed. That’s an order. All except the Sultan. I intend to put a
bedroom down here. Do you understand?”
“Yes, master,” the gingermen said. They both saluted him.
Pauline rubbed her nose. She sniffled. She lay quietly,
feeling the sea rock the ice cream sandwich she was floating on.
“I’m sad,” Pauline said. “I wish my daddie would visit me.” A
tear ran down her cheek. “An’ I still like bon bons, too.” She floated
on her ice cream sandwich and looked up at the bright lights of the
aurora borealis in the sky. The sun had risen, but the aurora borealis
was so strong that it could still be seen, out on the waves of the Sea
of Cream. The aurora borealis blocked out most of the rays from the
sun. Instead the whole northern sea was bathed in red and blue light
from the aurora. Pauline lifted her hand. She looked at her fingers.
“One... two... three... four... five,” Pauline said. “Five. I
have five fingers! I wish I had five bon bons!” She sat up. She
looked over her shoulder at the shoreline. Along the beach there were
lollipop trees, but if she floated a little farther south she’d see
trees growing bon bons. “Yum,” Pauline said. “I like bon bons. I want
some bon bons. This time that fat ‘ol Bibi won’t catch me, if I sneak
into her forest very, very quietly.”
30
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