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From: Andrew Roller <roller39@IDT.NET>
Subject: 12 Bikini Brigade part 12 of 22 (NND) dec13
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_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/
Andrew Roller Presents
NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS
in
BIKINI BRIGADE
_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/
Chapter Twelve
“You’re sure this is the best way?” Al asked Matilda. The
woman frowned.
“If it wasn’t for all those midgets tackling them, they’d have
run away again,” Matilda said.
“It’s only temporary,” Glenda said.
“We should be grateful that the midgets have agreed to help
us,” Wilma said.
“Ohhh, please let us go!” Katie cried. “I don’t want to be
covered with peanut butter!”
“Just up to your necks, dear. So you won’t run away any more,”
Glenda said. She put a finger up to her throat. “Then we’ll load you
aboard a tumbril the midgets are building and take you home.”
“Don’t you think the licorice is enough?” Al asked Matilda.
“Licorice?” Matilda said. “You think tying those girls’ hands
with licorice is enough? Good heavens, they’ll run away in no time.
Pour the peanut butter, you midgets! Not too hot! We’re not trying to
scald the girls, just keep them from running away again.”
Glenda Guilty looked over at a tumbril that was being
constructed out of licorice and peanut brittle. “You think that thing
is sturdy enough to carry the girls back?” she asked.
“God knows, it beats those damn lollipops they were blathering
about,” Matilda said. She looked past the tumbril at two lollipops
floating on the roadway. “How do those two lollipop things stay afloat
like that? On the air?”
“Special effects,” Al said. He sipped peanut butter tea from a
peanut brittle cup as he watched a big vat of hot peanut butter about to
be poured into a peanut brittle tub. Katie and I were in the tub.
I pulled at the licorice binding my hands. My arms were tied
behind me to a post made of peanut brittle. I couldn’t get free. I
gazed at the sides of the tub in which we’d been placed. It came up to
our necks.
We were surrounded by peanut people. They gazed at us with
fascinated eyes. I wished they would take pity on us. But Matilda, the
woman from Child Protective Services, had convinced Peanut Brittle Polly
that we were runaways who needed protection. We were, after all,
humans. And Matilda and her companions were humans. And we were lost.
There was no question of that. Of course, when Katie had seen Matilda,
she’d gone running right out Peanut Brittle Polly’s front door, and I’d
followed her. Matilda had called out that we must be captured. And,
sure enough, we were, tackled and held by dozens of peanuts, just like
Gulliver by the Lilliputians.
“Ohhh, I have to go to the bathroom!” Katie hollared. She
watched with big eyes as a vat of peanut butter was tilted by the peanut
people. It bumped the side of our tub. Warm peanut butter began
flowing into the tub. “Yooch!” Katie said. The peanut butter ran under
our feet. Then it rose up over our toes. Then it rose higher still,
filling the tub to our ankles.
“Pour!” one of the peanut people called to his fellows. They
tilted the vat again. More peanut butter came pouring into the tub. We
were prisoners. We wouldn’t be doing any running away now, not in a vat
filled with peanut butter! When it hardened we’d be like eskimos frozen
in ice. The peanut butter rose up our legs.
“One of the girls has to go to the bathroom!” Al said to
Matilda.
“A ruse,” Matilda said. “So she can run away again. Really,
Al, you’re a sucker, you know that?”
“I like suckers,” Al said.
“We’ll be home in an hour, I’ll bet,” Wilma said. “Just as
soon as we find a telephone.”
“There must be one somewhere around here,” Glenda agreed. “Who
ever heard of building a big movie set and not having any telephones?”
“Oook! We’re finished,” Katie said to me. A tear ran down her
cheek.
“We’re captured, that’s for sure,” I told her.
“By Child Protective Services,” Katie said. “Now I won’t be
able to watch MTV and I won’t be able to see Nick anymore or even to
live with my mom!”
“And worse,” I said. “We’re still in Candyland. Who’s to say
we won’t wind up in the clutches of Licorice Lad?”
“Oh, BOO! HOOO! I don’t want to be a prisoner of Licorice
Lad!” Katie bawled.
“What’s see saying now?” Al asked.
“She’s crying,” Matilda said. “Children are always crying.
Pay it no attention, Al. She’s just some little girl and, of course,
she’s crying.”
“What’s that?” Al asked. He pointed to the sky. A long object
was streaking across the fields.
“It looks--” Glenda began.
“It looks like a flying... a flying penis!” Matilda said. They
watched as the penis flew lower. It seemed to be holding something in
its pee hole.
“It’s heading... It’s heading directly toward us!” Al cried.
He threw himself to the ground. With a cry Matilda and Glenda and Wilma
dove for cover as the penis shot across the fields of peanuts and
slammed directly into the post where Katie and I were tied.
“EEEEYAH!” Katie cried. She and I were broken loose from the
post. It fell and shattered the walls of the tub that held us. The hot
peanut butter, up around our legs, oozed out of the smashed tub.
“Here, catch!” I heard, above me. I looked up. I saw a gun
falling toward me. It was the same gun that had been used to shoot the
eclair and, instinctively, I reached out and grabbed it. One fell
toward Katie and she just barely managed to catch it before it fell in
the hot peanut butter at our feet. “Use them to free yourselves!” the
eclair called to us. It was the same eclair Katie and I had helped
earlier in the day. It turned and began spraying the peanut people who
surrounded us with cream from its pee hole.
“YAHOOO!” Katie cried. She lifted her gun in the air. “We’re
the Bikini Brigade!” I figured out which end of my gun was the barrel
and clasped the handgrip and trigger at the other end. Peanuts began
rushing toward us. We had no time to lose.
“Shoot them!” I yelled to Katie.
“Which way do you point--?” Katie asked. Suddenly a big squirt
of marshmellow goo shot out of her gun. It knocked over two peanut
people. They screamed. They struggled with a big mass of white goo
that now ran over their bodies. They seemed unable to get up.
I fired my gun. I had grave misgivings about shooting people
but there seemed no other way. I watched as two peanuts went rolling
backwards. They seemed not to be hurt too badly. They were simply
stuck. To themselves.
“Yes!” I cried. I shot more peanuts. “Come on, Katie! We’ve
got to get to our lollipops!”
“We’re the Bikini Brigade!” Katie cried. “Say it, Bambi! Then
they’ll think there’s more of us!”
“Okay--” I said, firing at more peanuts. “Out of the way,
shorties! We’re the Bikini Brigade!”
“Bye, bye, peanuts!” Katie cried. She shot three more. It was
impossible not to hit them, for there were many of them, and they were
crowding forward, trying to capture us. I stepped out over the
shattered walls of the tub.
“Which way are our lollipops?” Katie yelled to me.
“This way!” I pointed.
We shot our way through the crowd. We found our lollipops
where we’d left them alongside the road. One peanut tried to grab mine,
but I shot him. Then Katie and I mounted our lollipops. To the great
amazement of the peanuts, we made them dart up into the sky. They had
only seen us float down the street on them. Now we were flying, high
over the rooftops!
“We’re the Bikini Brigade!” Katie gushed to me. She fired more
rounds of marshmellow goo down at the crowd of peanuts below us.
“Katie, we’re free. Don’t keep shooting them,” I told her.
The eclair broke off from squirting them with his cream. Hovering in
the air, he called out to us.
“Come on, girls!” the eclair said. “I can take you to the
Citadel!”
30
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