Repercussions of the Fax Totem

Yesterday I was walking along the moving sidewalk making no progress whatsoever, when I got a call on my mustache-phone. I pressed receive and some joker had faxed me the entire city of Chicago, coming out of my face at over 100 MILES PER HOUR! I tried to stall the incoming invasion with a sort of double-reverse ninja Elvis lip curl motion, coupled with a deep understanding that the forces of nature would NOT allow this large of a fax without grounds for a MOJO LAWSUIT, but was distracted by an evil owl with a magic wand who could teach Toro Toro to fly by attaching boards to his face and shouting GO BABY GO through a nuclear-powered megaphone with a decibel velocity sufficient to disintegrate the entire city and surrounding suburbs before you could say "MY GOD! THIS IS NOT HAPPENING!" Needless to say El Toro Emino Pio was RATHER startled, and leaped right out of his skin and eyeballs. They had to scrape his intestines off the Moon. Reaching for a cigarette, I quietly got into the convenient El Toro Magnifico outfit and focussed the 9 or 10 eyeballs on the horizon because as you know, if you can't see them, they can't see you.

Mister Owl, as a minion of Superchrist Duperstar WASN'T BORN WITH ENOUGH MIDDLE FINGERS BABY and to avoid the repercussions of the associated biker bar I sent him far away to a little alcove where he folded up upon himself innumerable times trying to hide his self behind his other self and his shadow self behind his Pee self while his Glowing self climbed over his Rainbow Brite Self trying to get away from his Maggot Paste Self and his Incorporated Broken Glass and Razorself, of which conspiracy formed the greater Platoon of Various Frankenstinian Abominations Self, which was also a Million Shardes Selfus which tried to reincorporate itself while simultaneously splintering, mixing, hiding, and doing Jumping Jack Leapfrog maneuvers over itself, until the stark fist of Removal with its great banner THOU SHALT NOT CONFUSE AND EMBARASS THY CREATOR came down with a great thunderous RUTCH, and that was the end of THAT.

Luckily I had managed to catch some of the residue of the fallen City on the ends of my eyelashes and fingernails before its demise, and (although the mustache phone was nowhere to be seen) pieced them back together in a form not unlike a cross between the Minoan Labyrinths and the New York times Crossword Puzzle, into whose tangled spaghettine myxyptlk I did not hesitate to DAHVE HAIDLONG! WHOO!!

Yes, for down in the dangling razrez of tattered buildings and Fneed Vhich Once Ver Sidevalk, down among the hard concrete widow of a crumbled ruin which had become my new hometown, down far below and above me at the same time as I fell inexorably toward its conclusion, already seeing dark murderous shapes with green luminous eyes stalking their way hunched and serpentine from behind every surface, THERE LAY MY BABY.

BEEEEEEEEEBEEEEEEEEEE!!!! I yawped in falsetto and matronly delight! EEEEBEEEEEBEEEEBEEE!!! AWWWWW!!! My baby sat there playing with peices of cars and businessmen in the twirling sand, fitting kiosks and Fichtenhaltestelle bubble-memes of jumbled citizenkind into new and glorious forms in tune with the singsongs of her unfettered innocent imagination, oh I love her so. My baby is only one inch tall. Shee iz a BEEEEEEEEBEEEEEEEEE. Oh beebee cootchie coo widdle little beebeeboobah googah! Oh YEAH! Did those bad sninsky slipperbiskens spisk at mah little darlin'? Awww. Hold on a sec. I drew my eyelash-mounted sixty-eight billion-barrel Deadly Orgone Seeking Injection-Molded Fully Articulated Repeating Chainsaw Launcher from it's holster next to the tinkle in my eye and fired a warning shot into the lurching hungry darkness which hovered like a Non-Acknowledged Serial Rapist Uncle Hen above us towering taller than Christ in the foreground of reality. Tiny chainsaws ricocheted off everything in shimmering rainbow specularitasticality. My baby clapped her hands and giggled. Ooooooh gooh gooh gah. Smootchie wootchie woo, she was so cute I fired again, and the sentient bullets shaped like chainsaws in their battalion of Light sensed the surveillance illumination set up by the moriturian recon of their forbears, lock and load, and screamed a deadly DOG WILL HUNT on them slithering unseen dracolisks with their snakeskin strut all skikka skikka in the Places You Cannot See. Oh yes, they was a hunt and a romp flying chainsaw plucked on the wing like eating popcorn at the Apocalypse, the slikkerns did streak and howl, oh yes they did gnask and spit and hiss and leave dark'ning trails in the air, pursued as t'were by the Ricochet Eventuality, oh yes you could hear that ghastly KSKSKSKKSKSKSKSKKSKSKKSKSKKSKSK and a BZEEEEEEEEEEEEE and a BAW-OO HOW all the way down to Pell Mell, and my baby still buildin' blockhouses and Esoteric Order of Dagon Lodges and squid farms and neon whip-me lounges and Latin Kings Indoctrination Parlors and candy shops, plantin' seeds of white slavery clubs and PLEASE GIVE ME AIDS banners, oh my baby, my sweet baby Jane.