The New StartChapter 28 The Dead City Is Destroyed
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Bashful Must Be Destroyed free porn video
BASHFUL MUST BE DESTROYED
by Eric
(you might want to read Bash's Bakery first)
He sat upon his dark throne brooding, his forehead deeply knitted. Such an
insult must not be tolerated -- nay, would not be tolerated. Bashful must pay.
(Bashful? What a misnaming of names!) Bashful must be destroyed, utterly!
How?
'Death was too easy for the slime ball, and transformation into a dirty dog
might be a step up,' the cruel figure thought with graveyard humor.
His brilliant mind pondered the thought, and came up with a plan. He
reached for a phone.
"Auntie, we need to meet. Yes, it's pay back time for all I've done for you.
Besides, it will be fun. You can trust me."
* * *
Bashful was chuckling about how he'd destroyed all those dweebs in his
pasty shop. The hot Texas summer was finally cooling off. Bashful was
wearing his ten gallon hat, string tie and hand tooled cowboy boots. He
looked at the time. Julie was late, but what can a husband expect when his
wife goes shopping? Finally, he heard her car pull into the garage, and in she
came as pretty and as charming as ever. The words out of her mouth stunned
and horrified him.
"I want a divorce! I can no longer be married to such a morally and
physically repulsive man -- nothing personal!" she said quickly as she saw
Bashful beginning to sob hopelessly. "It's just that you are something even
the cat would refuse to drag home. Good-bye, forever!"
The click of her high heels sounded like bullets into poor Bashful's heart.
She went into their bedroom, and began packing.
"Can't we talk it over?"
"No! I will never come back! Never. Don't try and find me, good-bye
forever. It is impossible to live with you and your stupid stories, and you've
gotten me involved with feuds with powerful and dangerous men."
"I thought you liked my stories!"
"As if! I was just pretending; you can't write for beans."
This was the unkindness cut of all. And Julie didn't even like baked beans!
"I thought you loved me!"
"I was just pretending that, too. Sorry, nothing personal, I'm sure you can't
help being the low life pond scum you are."
Soon, she was packed and drove out of his life.
Bashful felt like the world had come to an end. What had happened to his
loving, and sweet and supportive wife? Were they the victims of sinister
forces?
The door bell rang. It was his beloved mother. Bashful had never been more
glad to see anybody so much in his life. He tried to put his arms around her
for comfort, but she socked him a good one right in the kisser.
"Mother!" he said, shocked beyond belief.
"Don't remind me! Its my fault and my responsibility that such an inhuman
fiend was let lose on the world! I wish you had never been born! I never
want to see you again, in this life or the next! I am no longer your mother,
and your father feels the same way. God bless Texas!"
Bashful crumpled to the ground! What had happened to his secure little life?
He called his best friend on the phone. He would be able to help him!
But his best friend called him a back stabber, and said he would carve him
with a bowie knife if he ever saw Bashful again.
Bashful was bewildered. Was he really this bad -- even his mother hated
him. He hardly slept that night, weeping the night away missing his lovely
Julie. She always tucked him in at night!
The next morning, he somehow dragged himself to work, only to find his
boss standing like John Wayne, barring the way.
"You're fired! I found out about all your repulsive activities -- writing TG
stories and the other depraved facts of your so called life. Your wife called,
and told me how you have mistreated her and how you spit on the holy flag
of Texas."
Bashful's jaw dropped, and even he could find nothing to say.
"Don't even bother to clean out your desk -- the contents are in the
dumpster!"
The man hauled back a huge fist, and Bashful went flying. When he came
to, he was outside and arrested for being drunk and disorderly. While in jail,
he was visited by Gov. Bush.
"Boy, you are officially banished from the state of Texas as an undesirable!
If you try and set foot inside its sacred borders, you will be shot on sight like
the filthy mangy cur you are. Even your mother has begged me to banish
you. As for your bakery, it's been closed on an order from the board of
health, they founds rats in the kitchen; but not as big a rat as y'all! And the
federal government is after you for using non-FDA ingredients in your
pastries. Boy, you be in a heap of trouble!"
Looking longingly at paradise lost -- wandering homesick for Texas from the
borders of inferior Oklahoma, Bash was trying to think. How had his life
been turned upside down? He brushed his teeth every day -- most days,
anyway. What had he done different in the last few weeks?
* * *
Meanwhile, in a dark and foreboding lair somewhere in the Midwest, a
sinister scene was taking place.
A number of miserable people were in cells, begging for release. A grim
looking man wearing a sword entered, followed by a beautiful blonde
woman.
The people in the cells, as if they had rehearsed it for weeks, cried out with
one voice, "Give us back our bodies, you fiend!"
Eric just chuckled, "All in good time, all in good time."
The blonde woman next to him grinned, "I think this is Madam Olga's finest
hour -- except for tricking lawyer lady out of this beautiful body!" She
looked in her hand mirror, and smiled. "Now I be Amanda Reynolds!"
"Don't forget, Auntie, it was I who gave you the plot," said Eric.
A burly looking guy cried out, "Eric, you can't do this to us! Please, I miss
my husband. He will never love me in this truck driver's body."
"Now Julie, when you were a little girl, didn't you wish you were a big
strong man?"
It was strange to see the burly guy crying like a woman. "What is he doing
in my body, and with my husband?"
"He's not your husband anymore -- you left him because he is pond scum!
You have filed for divorce."
"NOOOO! No, I haven't!"
"Yes, you have. Well, let us say the new Julie -- your stand-in, has."
A fat black woman cried out, "But I am the Governor of Texas, and the son
of a president. You can't do this to me, sir!"
Eric chuckled like the fiend he was. "I'm afraid I have."
A pimply teen aged boy asked, "How can you do this to us and poor
Bashful, he's always been a good boy, and I've been proud to be his
mother."
"A good boy!?" said Eric, the urbane mask dropping to reveal the fiend
beneath. His eyes blazed with insane fire. "Did you know what he did to me,
turning me into a young girl, Raven into a trash dumpster, and to all the
others! No! He must be punished! He must be destroyed! Blotted from the
face of the earth!"
Then the insane light died in his eyes, and again the smooth mask was back
in place. "I am quite afraid you have disowned your son, dreadfully sorry,
but he was heartbroken. Even a mother could not love him. Don't worry,
after Bashful has become the drunken hopeless bum he is, or moves to some
out of the way place where nobody in their right mind would live -- like
Florida -- I will restore you to your rightful bodies -- but only under the
condition that you not tell him or anyone else what has transpired."
This fiend in human shape ignored the cries. Madam Olga stared at them
with satisfaction.
"I never did so many in such a short time. It is so soul satisfying to punish
evil persons like Bashful!"
"But Bash is not evil!" cried Julie. "He gives regularly to the United Way,
and is a good Democrat."
"Good!? Good? Is it good to humiliate me, and turn me into a little girl and
have my wife lord it over me? Is it good to turn Raven, even though he is a
lawyer, into a trash dumpster, or what about the rest? No, Bashful is evil,
Bashful must be destroyed!" The last words were said in a shout!
Madam Olga paid no attention -- she was too busy admiring her beautiful
new body in the mirror, and said, "Mirror, mirror, on the shelf, who is as
beautiful as myself?"
"The time has come to talk of many things, of sailing ships and bees wax
and cabbages and Kings," Eric said strangely. "Consider, I will return you
to your original bodies, if you will keep up the splendid work of the
'replacements'."
"Never!" cried Julie.
The black woman who had been Gov. Bush said, "Don't be hasty, Julie. In
each life, one must learn to be practical and make unpleasant compromises
for the good of the public. I, for one, accept Eric's generous offer."
Eric smiled sardonically -- "I knew I could count on you."
Everyone else held firm.
"As you wish; I am not a person to force another to do anything
unwillingly!" said Eric. "We shall see what the future will bring, shall we?"
He left, and Julie looked ruefully at herself in the full length mirror Eric had
so 'thoughtfully' provided in the their cells. She used be charming; now she
was a pot bellied, burly truck driver with a beard that needed shaving twice a
day. She opened another cold beer this body was addicted to, and thought.
She might escape from her cell, but then what -- it brought her no nearer her
real body. She and the others were doubly imprisoned by that fiend Eric!
What was wrong with the man? Couldn't he take a joke?
The next day, Julie asked "How are the rest of you doing?"
Her mother-in-law answered, "Terrible, Julie dear, my pimples are out of
control and I feel so immature and juvenile."
Bashful's best buddy, imprisoned in the body of a hooker, said, "My feet in
these damn 6 inch heels are killing me, and why do you TG writers always
have to have a guy trading with a hooker in your stories?"
"You could go barefoot," answered Julia.
"What! And run my hose? Not on your life! Besides, my legs look much
better in heels," the former man answered.
'What a bimbo,' thought Julie. She turned to Madam Olga. "Help us!" she
said.
The beautiful woman paused. "I dare not! You do not know what Eric is
capable of. I might lose this body, I might -- no, the thought is too horrible
to mention. You have only seen a small part of what he is capable of when
angered!"
The gorgeous, stolen body of Amanda Reynolds (See Test 4, a brilliant story
not to be missed, as are all the test series!) walked gracefully out.
* * *
Bashful wandered, homeless and hopeless. Nobody loved him, a silent tear
fell from his eyes. He didn't even have his computer to contact those he
knew on Fictionmania. Without quite realizing it, he drifted where all the
dregs of humanity go -- to Florida. There among other hopeless, low-class
people, he felt somewhat at home.
"Julie, Julie, my own wonderful Julie, where are you? Why did you desert
me?" he asked the uncaring ocean. The dark night sky was full of stars, but
Bashful could not see them because his eyes were awash with tears.
* * *
Julie begged Amanda for help three days later. "Tell me, how can we melt
Eric's cold, cold heart? I don't think you are an evil person. Don't keep me
away from my husband, my love. Who knows how desperate he is right
now?"
The lovely face frowned in concentration. Then Madam Olga nodded in
sudden decision.
"Very well, your pleas have touched me. I dare not give you help directly --
it goes against the code of the blood -- I am Eric's Aunt, you know. But you
might be able to reach him by appealing to his major weaknesses -- his love
of great words, and his pride. The name Eric means Always Kingly, you
know. The books in your cells are his favorite works; you may get an idea
from them what to say."
Julie looked. Shakespeare, Moliere, Euripides, the romantic poets, Robert
Frost, Thorne Smith (what was he doing here?) and of course, the collected
works of Eric Otten. 'What an egomaniac,' thought Julie. She poured over
the books -- picking things from memory. Finally, she was ready. She only
hoped it would work.
When Eric next appeared to gloat, he told them that Bashful was eating out
of garbage cans in Florida.
"Eric?"
His handsome, but now cruel head lifted. "Yes, 'Julie'?"
"'Life goes on.' That's what Robert Frost said. He said that's all he really
was sure of, 'Life goes on.' Get past your anger, justified as it may have
been, with my husband. He has suffered enough."
"The quality of mercy is not strained, take it into your heart, not for our sake
alone, but for yours, it will ease your bitterness. Others have given in and
left, but I never shall -- I would not breathe the same air as those who would
not die for Bashful; any who leave, I give my free forgiveness, go with my
blessing, because me staying here alone will increase the glory and honor
and freedom that comes from courage. It's ironic, isn't it -- this is St.
Crispin's day, another day long ago the French stood where you do -- sure
of overwhelming strength, and yet they lost. Remember, Eric, we are all
part of a small band of lovers of TG fiction, lovers of transformations and
life and body exchanges -- we are a select few with the imagination to see
what life would be like if we were someone else, if we changed our sex,
changed our world."
Eric looked on amazed, and began to speak, "Yes, Julie, you are right, we
are a band of brothers, we few, we happy few, Eric the King, CJ and
Raven, Waldo and Collins, Paul and Steve and Morpheus and Mindy and
others in our happy band of brothers -- yea, and sisters, too. In our
overflowing cups of wine and imagination, we will always be freshly
remembered. In the future, when life and bodies may be freely exchanged,
our stories will be used by mothers and fathers to teach their sons and
daughters -- that once there was a Fictionmania; once men and women
dreamed beyond the bounds of life and death, and our dreams and thoughts
shall go forth to the ending of the world, but we shall be remembered; we
few, we happy few, we band of brothers; for all of those on Fictionmania --
no matter how vilely they write (For example, Bashful's' Bakery story)
those who are joined with me shall be my brother, being joined in
Fictionmania shall ennoble the most feeble words or stories (like Bashful's
Bakery story) and famous writers now who write worthless TV or Politically
Correct books shall think themselves accursed, that they were not here with
us on Fictionmania, and they will hold their manhood and talent cheap, while
any speak proudly that wrote with us on Fictionmania!"
Julie held her breath. Eric turned to Madam Olga, and with a Kingly gesture,
said, "Let them go back to their bodies and their lives. Life goes on."
"Thank you!" breathed Julie with relief - it had worked.
* * *
Bashful, now reduced to being a hopeless beachcomber, saw like a vision
his wife rushing towards him. He blinked, but Julie did not disappear. She
hurled herself into his arms, kissing him with all the love she could.
The astonished man heard what that fiend Eric had done.
"He should be punished!" Bashful said furiously.
"Darling, he will, trust me -- I talked to Madam Olga before I left."
* * *
With utter horror, Eric looked. He couldn't believe it. How could his Auntie
do this to him?
Madam Olga had charged him $100,000.16 for all the body swaps!
(the end)
Josephina
- 02.06.2021
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