From marc69@bga.com Sat May 8 16:12:32 1999 Date: 15 Oct 1994 04:46:35 -0500 From: Marc Savlov Newsgroups: alt.gothic Subject: "WINNIE-THE-GOTH" PART VI ----------------------------------------------------------------------------- "WINNIE-THE-GOTH" PART 6 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------- (Continuing part 5, natch, where That Darn Goth was just leaving his good friend FuzzyDevilBunny after enjoying a lovely little snack of Triscuits ["Sandy Duncan Digs 'Em, You Should Too"] and blood-honey.) ----------------------------------------------------------------------------- *ahem* *again* *with phlegm* *per diem* ----------------- So Winnie-the-Goth started to climb out of FuzzyDevilBunny's hole. He pulled with his front claws, caking them with grave-residue, because it was obvious to all concerned that FuzzyDevilBunny had made his hole, conveniently it seemed, in the midst the Hundred Acre Necrotorium. Anyway, he pulled with his front claws, and pushed with his back claws, and a little while, his slightly scraped snout was out in the open again ... and then his ears ... and then his front claws ... and then his slim, gothy shoulders ... and then---- "Oh, help!" said Winnie-the-Goth. "I'd better go back." "Oh, bother!" said Winnie-the-Goth. "I shall have to go on." "Shit! I can't do either!" he cried. "Oh HELP! and BOTHER! and SHITfire and save matches!" Now by this time FuzzyDevilBunny was aching to go for a walk too, seeing as how his good friend Faith was in town and has brought along George "Night of the Living FuzzyDevilBunnies" Romero and her evil, quasi-perky pals Lisa and Laua from Pittsburgh. Regardless, the front door was stuffed full of Perkygoff butt (which, while not in itself a bad thing, was certainly a minor inconvenience of some due cause). Instead, he went out by the back door, and came round to Winnie-the-Goth, and looked at him. "Hallo. Are we stuck?" he asked impatiently. "N-no," said Winnie-the-Goth, carelessly. "Just resting. Even perkygoffs need to rest once in while, and this seemed like such a likely spot, seeing a how it's half in and half out of the ground, where a goth like me should ideally be." He licked his lips and laughed nervously. "Oh," said FuzzyDevilBunny, not quite convinced. "Here, give us a claw." Winnie-the-Goth stretched out a paw, careful to keep his claws tucked in, and FuzzyDevilBunny pulled and pulled and pulled... "OW!!" cried the lodged-Goth. "You're hurting, and on top of that there's no hot, drippy red candle-wax on my tummy!" "Forget the wax. The fact is, you're stuck, you silly perkygoff!" "It all comes," said Winnie-the-Goth crossly, "of not having front graves big enough." "It all comes," said FuzzyDevilBunny sternly, "of eating too much blood-honey and Triscuits and TOO MUCH MASCARA! I thought at the time," he said, "only I thought it might be a bit too forward of me," he went on, "that one of us was eating too much," he continued, to the point of annoyance, "and I bloody well know it wasn't ME." He paused here to suckle lovingly at the teat of the damned. "Well, hell, well, I shall just go and fetch Christopher Sexbat," said FuzzyDevilBunny, whose tufted black tail was beginning (more and more) to look like a tasty, meaty morsel to the well-ensconsed Goth-in-the-Hole. Christopher Sexbat lived at the other end of the forest, and when he came back with FuzzyDevilBunny (rather peeved, we might add here, that he had been interrupted during his private, secret, dark and dirty moment, which even his mother has only the vaguest sort of puzzling, disapproving notions about.). When he saw the front half of Winnie-the-Goth, he giggled knowlingly to himself and whispered "Silly old Goth," in such a loving voice that all parties concerned were suddenly interested in the prospect of Winnie-the-Goth and Christpher Sexbat appearing on the cover of the nest issue of OutGoth. "I was just beginning to think," said Winnie-the-Goth, sniffing slightly, "that FuzzyDevilBunny might never be able to use his front door again. And I should HATE that," he said. "Yah, well, think of me..." said FuzzyDevilBunny. "How will I get the chicks with THIS?!" Both Christopher Sexbat and Winnie-the-Goth noticed with alarm how the glowering FuzzyDevilBunny was gnawing on his lower lip so much that a thin trickle of blood had run down and began to fleck his bushy whiskers with a crimson mist, matting down his otherwise lustrous sheen and caking to dark russet around the edges. "Use his front door again?!" Christopher Sexbat ejaculated, seethingly. "Of course he'll use his front door again." "Ummmmm..." said FuzzyDevilBunny, his eyes rolling back in his FuzzyDevilHead, copiuos amounts of BunnyDrool running from his nibblers. "If we can't pull you out, Winnie, perhaps we can push you back?" FuzzyDevilBunny scratched his whiskers with his little bitty talons thoughtfully (drawing blood again), and pointed out that, when once Winnie-the-Goth was pushed back, and of course nobody was more glad to see this wayward perkygoff more than HE was, still, there it was, some lived in trees and some lived in graves, and ---- "You mean I'd NEVER get out?" said the Goth. "I mean," said FuzzyDevilBunny, "that you'd be stuck listening to Tones on Tail, the Jazz Butcher, and assorter Bauhaus solo projects for the next decade, as that's all I have. "What? No Children On Stun?" "No." "No Black Tape for a Blue Girl?" "Nope." "Not even...any Siouxie/Morrisey duets?" "Hardly." "You mean I'd NEVER get out?" cried Winnie-the-Goth, squirming like a furry black nightcrawler, which, in a way, like all goths, he was. "I MEAN," said FuzzyDevilBunny, "that having got SO far, it seems a pity to waste it." Christopher Sexbat nodded, winked, and did a little spin, grinning with his teeth (white and pointy) but not his eyes (black, just black). "Then there's only one thing to be done," said FuzzyDevilBunny. We shall have to wait for you to get thin again." "How long does geting thin take?" asked Winnie-the-Goth anxiously, knowing damn well he was a goth and probably quite very skinny to begin with. "About as long as it takes for Carl McCoy to get off his duff and release the Nefilim cd, I should think. Maybe sooner.....probably sooner. About a week, I should think." "But I can't stay here for a WEEK!" cried Winnie-the-Goth, knowing full well he'd miss the next X-Files, old Twilight Zone reruns, and probably a Gulf War, or two. "You CAN too stay here, you silly old Goth," said Christopher Sexbat. "It's getting you out which is so difficult." "We'll read to you," said FuzzyDevilBunny, cheerfully. "And I hope it won't snow," he added, malliciously, sniffing at the air and trying to predict if, indeed, it would. "And I say, my perky, pesky Orson Welles-esque friend, you're taking up a good deal of room in my house -- DO you mind if I use your back legs as some sort of unique bondage accesories? Because, I mean, THERE THEY ARE, just sort of sticking out there, and I could so use them to affix manacles and the likes from ... um, couldn't I?" "A WEEK?!" screamed Winnie-the-Goth in a dainty little roar, that, despite the small-perkygoff-in-makeshift-B&D-gear-look, sounded more than anything else like a little boy denied his favored pudding, or maybe a spoonful of gristle before bedtime. "What about MEALS?!!" hissed Winnie-the-Goth, in a very impolite, but understandable manner. "I'm afraid no meals," said Christopher Sexbat, "because of getting thinner quicker. But we WILL read to you." Winnie-the-Goth sighed (and yes, once more it sounded like, oh, I don't know, how about, say, 'a billion black beetles biting big black bits o' bloodied bomb debris?') Fine. Be satisfied with that one. Famished and (apparently) fat (!), and feeling fairly funky, a lone crimson tear ran down the goth's cheek, as he said: "Then would you need a SUSTAINING BOOK, such as would help and comfort a wedged Goth-in-Great-Tightness?" "How about "Thinner?" You know, Stephen King?" someone offered.... So for a week Chripstopher Sexbat read just that one sort of book (pausing, occasionally, to surrepticiouly slip in some Anais Nin and see if the Silly Old Goth realized it was "Nin," and not "NIN") at the North End of Winnie-the-Goth, and FuzzyDevilBunny hung his freshly-ironed garters and recently-drycleaned angoras on the south end ... and in between Winnie-the-Goth felt himself getting slenderer and slenderer, gothier and gothier. And at the end of the week Christopher Sexbat cried out, incantorially, "Damn the heavens and damn the seas, damn Nic Gibson and his knobby knees, Damn and darn Q. Tarrantino, that J. Travolta plays great mean-o! NOW!" So he took hold of the Goth's front claws, and FuzzyDevilBunny took hold of Chrtistopher Sexbat, and all of FuzzyDevilBunny's horrid, chittering relations took hold of FuzzyDevilBunny, and they all pulled together ... (and by this time it was already too late to call that guy from Coil to Satanize the poor goth out) .... And for a long time, Winnie-the-Goth only said, "OW!" ... and, oh, "OW!" ... and, ow, "OH!" ... and, whoa, "SHIT!" ... And then, all of a sudden, with a giant gout of arterial blood, he said "WHEEEEEEE!" just as if he'd suddenly lost all major bladder control (which, it surely need not be said, he DIDN'T ACTUALLY DO [because things like that are best left in the bedroom, or, at least, the privacy of the bath]. Winnie-the-Goth positively FLEW through the air, and Christopher Sexbat and FuzzyDevilBunny and all the assorted friends, relations, hanger's on, and papparazzi went head-over-heels backwards ... and on top of them came Winnie-The-Goth ---FREE! So, with a nod of thanks to his friends, he went on with his walk through the forest, humming proudly to himself that old Tones on Tail tune, "GO!", which he found very appropos, all things considered. But Christopher Sexbat, cunning devil that he was, looked after him with an errant, perky grin, and said to himself, "Silly old Goth." ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- END OF CHAPTER 6 FOR GOTHS AND GOTHETTES end of chapter two for Mr. A.A. Milne ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- COMING SOON!!! "HIGHLIGHTS FOR CHILDREN!!!" Just like you read at the allergist's office when you were but a wee little gothee. Maybe even pictures, too. (if you're lucky enough to access Mosaic) ----------------------------------------------------------------------------- still more thanks and frosty red kisses (and drippy red candle wax running all over you an getting on my new sheets, hey, watch out!) to net.goth denizens who've made it all too plain just how eager they are for the next installment of Winnie-the-Goth. My friend Eileen (and Sukie, too, but not that apparent loser you happened to marry, 'kay?), Faith, Lisa, Laura, Emaleen, Nic, CV Sexbat, Trebor Wolfsbane, that Dunn guy, Angel, Christina, Asylum (wherever he is), and, hey -- is this starting to look like Heavy Metal liner notes? YEEOOUUCH! better quit while I'm ahead... bye m69