A story about snakes (rough scene)

Wed, 23 Apr 2008 14:28:48 GMT

I thought life couldn’t get any better than this. I sat in the back seat of my brothers old car, feeling myself grow up as my tongue wrestled with Britt’s. It was well past curfew, but I don’t think either of us cared right now. She pulled me closer as I began to stroke her leg, moving slowly up her skirt. I had already made progress after only three dates.

I yanked my hand back as if a snake had bitten it. Women don’t have that! My jeans began to feel less tight every second.

“Britt! What? Why?” I couldn’t get my words to come out straight, as if that very snake had crawled down my throat.

“Eric, I can explain. Just settle down,” she said. She? He? How do I address someone in this situation?

“But it’s a dick! You shouldn’t have a dick!”

“I know what it is Eric, but just settle down,” she said, reaching to stroke my arm.

I jerked away immediately. “How did I miss it? I’m dreaming right? Please tell me this is some twisted nightmare. Britt’s a girl’s name, right?”

“Britt is my name, Eric. I’m Britt, and I’m the same girl you asked on a date.”

I felt sick. I shouldn’t have skipped ahead. I should have followed the rules. I should’ve grabbed the boobs first. Men don’t go straight for the pussy? Do they? I felt that my brother’s advice was pointless now. I immediately reached for one to see what happened. Britt just stared. The disguise was gone and she wasn’t going to fake the feelings now, I guess.

“Is this a joke? Did some guys put you up to this? I know, it was Greg, right? Number twenty-seven? This is some freshman initiation, right? Just a prank?”

“Eric, stop it. This isn’t a joke or a dream or even some drunken stupor. I am Britt and I just want you to accept the issues I have.”

“Issues? You have a dick! ‘Issues’ feels like an understatement!”

Then I saw her eyes. Tears were welling up. I knew she wasn’t really a girl, but I still felt bad for yelling at her. I guess it wasn’t really her fault she had a dick. But she never bothered to let me know about it!

“Listen, Britt, I’m sorry,” I said. “I just wasn’t expecting to find that.”

The tears on her face brought back images from my dad’s porn collection, and I felt awkward to realize I still thought she was hot. Was that right?

“No one expects a dick, Eric. Like you said, Britt’s a girl’s name.”

“Then why dress up like a girl? You don’t have any of the parts,” I said, and then I stopped myself. I was waiting for her to smack me just like every other girl.

“I don’t feel like a boy, Eric. I can’t explain it. Every time I go out as Cody, I feel like I’m lying to everyone. I’m not him, and I felt like you might understand that.”

We both stopped for a while. What was she thinking? She came expecting a dick, but did she really think I would just accept it? Was she expecting full sex? I’d never done anything before, but I didn’t feel like starting with anal. The silence fell like a thin blanket in the car. Was I willing to share a blanket with Britt?

“So,” I said like some cricket in the night, “which bathroom do you use?”

The tears stopped for a second, and I saw a little smile rise up. “Are you serious?”

I shrugged. She gave a sweet girly chuckle. “How about you just drive me home? I think I’ve had enough for one night.”

(Copyright Alec Henry 2008)

Louis Gibbs, Universal Lawyer (rough sketch)

Wed, 23 Apr 2008 14:09:37 GMT

Take two wrong turns at the edge of the galaxy, and you’ll run into a brick wall. Many beings have purposely hunted out this astronomical anomaly with hopes of planting their own personalized graffiti on it. Unfortunately, you can only arrive by taking two wrong turns at the edge of the galaxy, which is hard to do if you’re specifically looking for this sort of thing. The fifth dimension is rather funny that way.

However, if you were to make two right turns and then a left turn after passing Nevulgat Minor, you would arrive at Nevulgat Major, the largest planet in the universe solely based on creating and recording all the laws of the universe. There is a department for the Laws of Physics, the Laws of Writing, the Laws on the Proper Way to Steal from a Thief, and the Laws in Reference to a Small Tribe of Pygmies Located Somewhere Near the Edge of the Universe. This planet is not so much the largest planet dealing with these laws, but the only planet willing to do such a thing. As one would imagine, Nevulgat Minor is full of things dedicated to stress relief, such as bubble baths and cheesecake.

Though our story doesn’t take place on Nevulgat Major or Minor, it’s good to know where you need to go if you think the laws of the universe aren’t to your liking. No, our story begins in a small court room on Adverb Five, a planet known for its abundance of laws in relation to grammar. In this court room, two parties have begun to debate the proper usage of the word alferny. Alferny, being a recently developed term, has yet to be placed in the “verb” or “adverb” section of the universal dictionary. Of course, these word based planets make more words than they have meaning for, making it quite hard to decide whether Alferny is either kind of verb.

Of course, our reluctant protagonist of this story, a Mr. Louis Gibbs, is supporting the side believing alferny is a verb similar to the word yhargot, or to harass incessantly with a large blow horn. Mr. Gibbs could really care less about the use of such a verb, but such is the sorry case of a human being trying to make his way as a universal lawyer.

Mr. Gibbs sits quietly in his chair, waiting for the painkillers to kick in as his migraine worsens.

“My client,” began the adverb party, “honestly believes that alferny is an adverb to the aforementioned yhargot. One cannot be accurately presented without the other.” His client, a slug-like female with a monocle, firmly nodded with such focus that her small ocular aid fell to the ground and shattered. This only served to surprise her because it was a fake monocle she purchased at a fuel station just before entering the courtroom. Everyone knows people with good grammar have poor eyesight. It’s one of those universal laws.

Mr. Gibbs, not caring to even open his eyes, retorted, “And my client says your client never graduated from preliminary school, scoring the lowest on a spelling test ever recorded in the history of Adverb Five.” Mr. Gibbs client quickly began shaking his head as if a rabid, invisible beaver had suddenly began gnawing on his eye stalk (which, in this part of the universe, was quite plausible). However, that was not the case.

For those of you slightly dazed and confused by the lack of ruckus between the two clients, I will explain. About two decadillion years ago, law was invented by someone who wanted to maintain order in a world of chaos. Unfortunately, this man/woman/child/adolescent-type being was the only one who could readily understand what the laws actually meant. Such has remained unchanged over the last two decadillion years, and has become known as the law of the court: “only lawyers, judges, jury members, or other people in league with the Universal Court may speak within the confines of a courtroom. Anyone else speaking is assumed ignorant of the laws of the universe (which they usually are). They may, however, use any sign language approved by the Laws of Nonverbal Cues.” This became an official law about one decadillion years ago, and was probably written by a lawyer, read by a jury, approved by a judge, and enforced by those other people in league with the Universal Court.

Since the opposition’s client was unable to neither prove of nor deny this statement, he immediately lost the fight, allowing Adverb Five to officially declare alferny a verb. The celebrations on this glorious occasion involved everyone alfernying well into the morning the day after. It also led to Mr. Gibbs receiving a 10% increase in payment: instead of thirty seven gallyons, he was now receiving 40 gallyons and three-tenths of a single gallyon. No one ever said the law profited in the last two decadillion years.

However, the profit gained was just enough for Louis Gibbs to walk five blocks south and three blocks east from the court room, arriving at a disgusting blemish known as the Drunk Politician. As Louis stepped on the small matt outside the bar, the door slid open with all the finesse of land locked catfish. Upon stepping into the small shelter, Louis’s nose was raped by the scent of a million vanilla candles. Louis was almost certain this violated the Laws of Sex with Genderless Nouns, but he needed alcohol more than he did another seventeen hours in court.

As Louis sat down at the bar, he realized why so many candles had previously penetrated his nostrils: the itchbaw had stopped here on the tour of the galaxy. Centuries ago, a great war was fought near the edge of the Odorous Nebula. This conflict began when two races wondered which of them emitted the most offensive odor in the universe. But as the epic conflict of smells defiled even the gasless area of space, two adolescents fell deeply in love. Their names were Helga and Rutherford, and as the Laws of Cliché dictate they had to be on opposite sides. In the end, they gave birth to the itchbaw, a race of toad-like beings whose odor united the two warring parties in a death most foul.

Upon remembering this miniscule factoid, Louis let the vanilla candles indulge their sexual urges as much as they wanted.

anh2064

A story about snakes (rough scene)

Louis Gibbs, Universal Lawyer (rough sketch)