|
At long last the weekend had finally arrived. It was the
first weekend in several weeks that the entire cast of Casa
Lesbo would be in residence. Ken wasn't sure whether or not
this would be a good thing. One thing was certain--he would
make sure the escape pod was fully fueled and ready for launch
at a moment's notice.
Saturday dawned all bright and sunny-June Cleaver perfect.
Ken was quite excited at the prospect of spending a full day
at the Connie Francis Memorial Pool. It was quite the place
to see and be seen. Ken carefully selected his outfit, which
today would consist of a lime green, box cut swim suit. He
coordinated a yellow beach towel and black sandals. All had
been ordered direct, so Ken had saved quite a bundle on the
ensemble. Ken packed the outfit in his dream-tote and proceeded
to the lavatory for his morning shower.
Upon completion of his shower, Ken dressed and proceeded
to the galley. Any hint of sleepiness dissipated immediately
upon site of Godzilla. She was propped up against the dinette,
consuming a large bowl of crushed rodents. "I thought
you'd NEVER get out of the lavatory, Ken! I almost had to
go pee in a cup!" Bellowed Godzilla, with a small lizard
tail dangling from her incisors. "If only she could aim."
Ken thought to himself before replying. "Good morning
to you too, dear. Did you have a good rest last night?"
"Knock it off! I'm not in any mood for your attitude
this morning!" "Ditto, Sweetie. Why don't you go
run along and scrape off those nasty barnacles on your forehead!
You'll never attract another dinosaur looking like that!"
Godzilla snorted and attempted to spray Ken with her venom.
By now Ken recognized all the early warning signs of Godzilla's
spray attacks, and he had been prepared. He simply ducked
and covered. Whereas Godzilla has size and girth in her favor,
Ken has the graceful swiftness of a gazelle that a beast of
over 4 tons could never even dream of accomplishing. It was
only one of Godzilla's many jealousies towards Ken. Ken demonstrated
his agility whenever possible, hoping that someday Godzilla
would go into some form of self-induced anger syndrome and
spontaneously explode. So far his efforts had proved in vain,
but he knew that one day he would succeed. He just knew it.
Godzilla retreated and left Ken alone to consume his Cheerios
in peace.
After a few minutes Skipper entered the galley. "Hey
Ken! Isn't it a great day?! What do you have planned?"
"Oh, I think I'll just head on over to the Connie Francis
and see what the rest of the guys are up to. Nothing special."
"Lucky you! Barbie and I are going over to the Home Depot
to pick up some new power tools. Then we're gonna come back
and mow the lawn. I just love suburban life!" "Right!"
"Do you need us to pick up anything for you while we're
out?" "Maybe some Raid. Godzilla's stray snacks
have been hovering around my chamber lately in frightfully
large quantities. I think they're planning a revolt or something."
"No problem!" Barbie began tooting the horn on the
Dream-Diesel, and Skipper scurried out to join her. Ken never
would fully understand the attraction between these girls
and their 18-wheelers. Perhaps it was for the best.
At the Connie Francis, Ken ran into his dear friend, the
one and only queen of pool babble, Miss Betty-Sue Poseidon.
Betty-Sue and Ken dated back to sometime during the Pleistocene
era, but neither would ever admit it. On Planet Ken everyone
was perpetually 35. The time vortex continuum and reverse-pulse
rotation of the planet assured it. Betty-Sue and Ken had a
lovely afternoon, critiquing the various outfits and latest
silicon implants surrounding the clear blue water of the Connie
Francis. Several dips and assorted insults later, they were
approached by the timeless Lucidia DeVille. Lucidia was all
upset. Her dear friend Mrs. Pauletta Paul, heiress to the
battered and beaten, deep fried fish fortune, had been spreading
evil rumors about Ken that were simply not true. There was
no way Ken could've jammed Mrs. Paul's mail box full of long,
pointless short stories. All of Ken's stories have a point!
Ken made sure to that Lucidia would relay this message along
to Polly, along with a big hug and kiss. It had been a long
time since Ken had seen Polly...perhaps he now realized why.
Lucidia retreated to her designated towel, while Ken and Bitchina
reapplied their sunscreen.
A short time later Ken heard his name being called from afar.
At first he thought he was dreaming, but the calls persisted.
Not having his contact lenses properly mounted, he opted not
to respond. God knows how many opportunities he had missed
over the years by this apparent show of attitude. In reality,
it was the only sensible way to respond to such acts. There
was no way he was going to stand up and scan the entire crowd
in hopes of somehow locating the source of the transmission.
It could only result in uneven tanning. Ken stood up and went
into the pool, in hopes that the transmission would cease.
It did, and Ken was able to return to his towel in peace.
The peace, unfortunately, was all too short-lived. Betty-Sue
began to show signs of sun delusions, and started babbling
something about Ken being so popular at Vodka Land that Kraft
was going to name a spread after him. Ken knew it was time
to go. He packed up his dream-tote and departed post-haste.
When Ken returned home later that afternoon, Godzilla was
in the lavatory. He wasn't quite sure, but it appeared as
if she had been in there all day. That would put her at about
8 hours and counting. "Hi Ken! Did you have a good day
at the pool? We got your Raid...I left it in your chamber."
Chirped Skipper. "Thanks, Skipper. Yes, Indeed I did
have a nice day at the Connie Francis! Tell me, has Godzilla
been in the lavatory ALL DAY?" "You know, now that
you mention it, I think she has! We're all going to a girl
party tonight, and I think she wants to look her best! There's
another reptile there that she's had her eye on for a long
time, and she wants to make a really good impression."
"Oh! Lucky lizard! I hope she's got her will in order."
"Ken! You're so mean to Godzilla! You'd better watch
out, she'll squash you one of these days!" "You
mean like she did the couch?" "Ken!"
As Ken walked past the lavatory on his way to his secured
chamber, he could hear the happy sound of chainsaws and blow
dryers at work. He could also hear Godzilla singing to herself.
Luckily the words were quite inaudible. Ken laid down on his
bed to take what was supposed to be a brief nap.
Four hours later Ken awoke with a start. The voices of several
hungry lesbians were echoing outside his airlock. He checked
the date and time on his clock. It was the wrong day for Vodka
Land, so this couldn't be a post-vodka delusion. Then he remembered
Skipper's earlier comment about attending a girls party that
night. Skipper had forgotten to mention that the lebesians
would be gathering at Casa Lesbo for a pre-party bra loading
and beerbust. "What should I wear?! What should I wear?!
Do you like my hair? Do I need to shave my pits? Is the stubble
on my legs noticeable? Do you think this makes me look fat?
What do you think of this outfit?! I think I'm not going to
wear a bra. I think I'm only going to wear a bra and no top!
Maybe I should go topless. I think I'm gonna leave my leg
at home...it makes me look butch that way!" The happy
sounds of girls coordinating outfits abounded. "Does
anyone have an extra tampon I can borrow?" Thunder clapped
in his head and Ken trembled. An extra tampon? That had certainly
gotten his attention! Do THEY actually borrow those things
off of one another? "Good God!" he said to himself.
He parted the airlock slightly to check out the path to the
lavatory. Still occupied. It was now over twelve hours since
Godzilla had entered the lavatory. His own preparations for
a night out would have to wait. It was simply not safe to
venture out into the hallway...a stray airborne bra strap
could put his eye out just like that! He turned on the television
and began to watch a rerun of Xena Warrior Princess.
After Xena, the lavatory was still occupied. The sounds of
panties snapping and bras popping had begun to fade...Ken
could only assume that the beer had begun to take affect.
Somebody was pounding on the door of the lavatory. "Are
you done yet? We're gonna leave without you if you're not
ready in five minutes!" "Don't rush me...I'll smudge
my nail polish!" Ken recognized the voice from inside
the lavatory...indeed, it was still Godzilla. She had been
in the lavatory over 13 hours already, and still she wasn't
done. But then, she probably never would be-she had quite
a large volume of scales to purge. And she was painting her
claws? This really was a special occasion! Five minutes came
and went, and the lebesians yelled to Godzilla as they filed
out "See ya there, Zilla! We're leaving your ass at home!"
"No, no, wait...I'm almost done!" "Sorry bitch!
We don't operate on Jupiter Standard Time, so we're outta
here!"
More time passed, and Godzilla had yet to vacate the lavatory.
Ken could only imagine WHAT she would look like when she emerged.
Finally, nearly 17 hours after she had entered the lavatory,
Ken heard the hiss of the airlock being unsealed. He ran to
his own airlock and cracked the hatch just enough to peer
down the hall. "Sweet Jesus!" he gasped. He could
not believe his eyes. There before him in a sea of mist stood
Godzilla--in a halter-top and frayed denim shorts. Yes, it
was true. Somehow she had managed to squeeze herself into
this monstrosity of an outfit. On Ellie-Mae it would've been
perfectly acceptable. On this most hideous of reptiles it
was absolutely frightening. Ken was truly horrified. After
all those hours in the lavatory, she had emerged virtually
unchanged. God only knew what she had been doing in there...perhaps
she had crocheted the halter-top herself. The scales atop
her head were virtually dripping with gel. She was quite a
site. It would probably be only a matter of seconds before
the excess of moisture from her head scales would turn her
lovely brass earrings green. Ken had been to Mexico, he knew
what happened when brass went bad. He sincerely hoped that
he wouldn't be around when Godzilla's went bad. She would
either drown him in a sea of reptilian tears, or kill him
in a fit of rage. Either way he would be killed-no doubt about
it.
The mist began to dissipate as Godzilla made final preparations
for her night out. Ken could see her applying her Sea-green
eyeshadow and tangerine lipstick. It was hard to imagine any
reptile being able to resist her. OK, so it wasn't that hard.
Either way, she finally finished and blasted off in her Lesbowagon
for Planet Party. Ken made a dash for the lavatory. After
quickly disinfecting all horizontal surfaces of the lavatory,
he took a shower and completed his own beauty regimen. He
was done in 17 minutes-a far cry from the nearly 17 hours
that Godzilla had required. Ken was feeling a bit tired, so
before he headed out he decided to consult the 24-hour Astro-Hotline.
It was a good thing he did! Astrolia told him that it would
be a bad night to go out...his Uranus was squared and about
to collide with Saturn and Pluto. Plus there was an excellent
chance that he would run into a nebula or hit an asteroid
along the way. That was all Ken needed to hear! He went straight
to the galley and popped himself a bag of microwave home-style,
real-buttered popcorn with real salt crystals and went back
to his chamber. There was no way he was going to chance hitting
an asteroid...he had just recently detailed the Dream Vet!
Less than twenty minutes into a most fabulous rerun of "That
Girl", Ken heard the main airlock open. The unmistakable
bellowing of Godzilla followed it. "What?" Thought
Ken. "She just left barely an hour ago. I wonder what's
up." Ken pretended to cough and dislodge a mucuzoid,
making sure the sound was audible enough to be heard by the
beast in the galley. He then headed for the galley to obtain
a glass of liquid refreshment. He encountered Godzilla in
front of the refrigerator, consuming night crawlers from the
box. As he looked closely, taking care not to be singed by
the toxic vapors she constantly omitted from her mouth, he
noticed that her mascara was all amuck. This was not a happy
reptile. "What's up Zilla? I thought you were going to
a party tonight." Asked Ken. "The bitches! I was
supposed to meet them at the Lesbo Lounge at 10. Can you believe
they left without me? I was only two hours late! Just wait...I'll
get them all! Somehow, some way...they're gonna live to regret
this!" "I'm sorry. After all that preparation you
went through. Maybe next time you should start getting your
scales in order a day or two beforehand, that way you'll be
on time!" Godzilla hissed and threw a night crawler at
Ken. "I don't need any of your lip! It's bad enough that
they all deserted me, you just shut up!" Ken wiped the
night crawler from the wall and went back to his room. As
he sealed the airlock he could hear the squeak of Godzilla
eating the Styrofoam night crawler container. She was obviously
distressed-the little lizard of her eye had once again escaped.
Perhaps he would suggest she get a makeover and hire a time
management consultant in the morning. He had seen an advertisement
from Earl Scheib. For $99.95 Godzilla could get herself painted
and have all of her annoying little dents removed. That would
be a start.
He drifted off to sleep...comforted in the knowledge that
tomorrow would bring yet another trip to Vodka Land. |
