Welcome back, fair readers. Today I bring you yet another of the Little Monkey Saga. Today poor Little Monkey learns what its like to be a ghost. In his new ethereal form, Monkey swears vengeance.
As always by Stephen Floyd. Illustrations by Pat Higgins. Edited by Christopher Petkus.
A long time ago, deep in the jungle, there lived a tiny monkey. He was a friendly little monkey but everyone hated him, they hated him because he was so little.
This afternoon, Little Monkey was soaking in a hot bath, his various wounds and bruises, his swollen joints all being caressed by soothing bath salts and exotic perfumes he’d gotten from his orangutan girlfriend. He was so happy that he was sure that these good times were here to stay. The innocent little creature believed this despite the fact that a group of cannibal apes had been terrorizing the village for a month now. No one was spending time with friends; they were all holed up somewhere hoping to avoid notice, even his mother had stopped receiving her usual visitors. One reason for his happiness – he’d not been raped in a week so great was the fear of the apes. The police did not attempt to combat the threat, they were a corrupt group more concerned with running the illegal peyote trade than the people’s safety and, truth be told, they were also deathly afraid of the apes and had barricaded themselves inside the police station, by now out of their minds on confiscated meth. So there was nothing to stop the cannibals and now the horrible, bloodthirsty apes roamed free, some of them were even coming into town in broad daylight. They hadn’t broken anything yet but it was only a matter of time. Just last week little monkey had seen them lingering around his girlfriend’s house and they fought and clawed one another to be the first through the door when they smashed it open. He knew it was only a social call, nothing sexual had happened, and despite overwhelming evidence that she was a total fucking slut, the little guy still believed that his girlfriend was a virtuous woman. Even though the apes had punched her in the face and given her a dirty sanchez, a Birmingham steamer, and a deviled ham, Little Monkey believed her when she said she’d fallen into a doorframe. Or she’d just had some hot cocoa mixed in with peanut butter. Her breath smelled like apeshit when she said these things, and her teeth had been steeped in creamy brown feces. So, knowing all of this, he now realized he could really trust her. Now he tried to relax and cast aside any anxiety or doubts he might have had about how things were going. For the moment he would struggle between thoughts of the total extinction of death at the hands of his school chums and his desire to be free of the madness if only for a little while. At that very moment, on the other side of the jungle village, Andy Aardvark and the ugly pelican bad ass were scrambling down the main street, stumbling and out of breath. They had just outrun some of the cannibal apes over by the school; they had gone completely insane and were now eating some of the children.
“Jesus shitting christ, what do we do now?” ,Andy gasped.
“Oh my fuck they almost got us” , gobbled the pelican as he fell flat on the ground. Dust kicked up around him and got into his dry beak. Spitting and flapping his wings about, the pelican stuttered,
“Let’s get the fuck out or we’re dead!”
They started for the swamps, close to where Little Monkey was enjoying his bath. Neither one of them knew how they were really going to get out of this alive but it was the only thing they could agree upon to do. So the pelican and the aardvark headed for the house, still looking over their shoulders in fear. The apes got there much more quickly, however, and the two school chums watched as they raped monkey’s mother to death and then kicked in the door and threw her foul corpse into the bathwater. Little Monkey screamed and tried to get away but it was of no use, they tore out his throat and shit on his face. The poor little monkey’s dying thought was of his girlfriend and how beautiful her perfume smelled. To his utter surprise he found himself floating outside of his body over his house. He was looking down on the apes as they ran downstairs and out the door. A small van of muskrats was passing by on the road and they chased it. He could hear the family singing “pickin’ up the field mice and boppin’ ‘em on the head” just as the alpha male of the apes picked up a bejeweled cane that the mayor had once stuck up his mother’s ass and smashed the van’s windshield with it, causing the muskrat father to crash into a tree. All of the apes descended on the family now, they tore open the doors and pulled out mommy and daddy muskrat. Father muskrat was only semiconscious having hit his head on the naked metal of the steering wheel so he did not see muskrat mommy clutching at the back of the largest ape as it fucked her. Father muskrat was finished off when the apes put him underneath a wheel and dropped the van on his head. Now came the real fun. The evil apes had a sense of theater and a nascent ability for showmanship. They tore off the parent’s faces and raped the children wearing the faces of their dead mother and father as makeshift condoms. The little ones cried as their lives ended, they’d only been on a butterfly expedition when the gorillas had attacked them. Finally the children were dead, too, and the apes lined out rails of their own shit across the back of daddy muskrat and snorted them on down. Little Monkey’s heart was touched when the family’s spirits’ were joined together again in a large field of wheat until he saw horrible demons emerge from the ground and claim the muskrats’ immortal souls.
“What had they done to deserve hell?” he wondered.
At this the monkey became angry and red beams flashed from his eyes as he materialized above the gorillas. They saw him and were very afraid and quickly fled the scene, howling loudly in fear. Monkey beheld his strange new power and now he knew what he must do. He would terrorize the apes into leaving the village. Maybe at last the townsfolk would come to love him, perhaps he would finally be accepted as a respected member of the community. In his spirit mind he contemplated that this could be the reason he had not moved on to heaven, he still had a job to do here on earth. These thoughts gave him hope. If his plan succeeded he would become the hero of the entire village. For the moment he dematerialized and drifted back into his ethereal existence, satisfied that he had done good and with the knowledge that happy times were finally here. How could anything hurt him now? The apes tried a few more attacks but were always thwarted by the spirit monkey; they could not overcome their fear of him. Eventually they gave up and retreated into the jungle. But despite his best efforts including a ghostly Fourth of July, his presence was disregarded. No matter how many times he appeared, eyes flashing red, even during events as mundane as a bake sale, they ignored him. This made him angry but no matter how he tried he could only summon a solitary dark cloud that merely drizzled for a few minutes before dissipating into nothingness. It was not enough to impress the towns folk, they went about their day-to-day and completely ignored him. He was certain he had enough power to impress them; the only trouble was that he could not find any other spirits to help him learn of his new abilities. From time to time he detected the presence of the recently deceased but they always moved on too quickly, all seemed bound for some eternal glory. For some reason he had been left alone here below, south of heaven, without anyone to guide him. So for weeks he lingered, somewhere between eternity and the ugly jungle life he had long desired to escape. Because of his manifestations, his school chums knew that he was out there, lingering beyond their reach, and they sought to do something about it. He could see them in their busy work but there was really nothing he could do about it, they did not take his threats seriously and they laughed at his dark cloud. Nonetheless, each time he’d recognized their activities and he knew what they were trying to do; they wanted to capture his spirit like a genie in a bottle. He knew that they would hand him down from generation to generation, his soul caught up in a generic, boring mason jar with no hope of salvation. No, this would not be his fate, he was determined to bend them all to his will… Throughout the days of pagan rituals and the slaughter of several baby mantis goblins he remained beyond their grasp yet their dedication did not wane, still they went on, trying desperately to find a way to capture him. So he kept one eye on them and with the other, contemplated what was to be his eternal fate.
Though the monkey was often bored beyond any earthly comprehension, at least for now he was free of pain and torment. To while away the time he found himself often spying on a young female termite vole that he found particularly attractive. He’d never noticed her when he was alive but he figured that was because he’d spent most of his earthly existence trying desperately to evade his school friends’ death plots. She was a delicate creature, almost translucent so pale was her skin. The young vole had thin white hair and glowing pink eyes; she was a rare albino of her species. The dead monkey saw her being shunned by others of her kind in the large vole cities, they regarded her as freakish and often called her names and pelted her with vole shit. So deep was his sorrow, so deep was his identification with her that something strange happened; he suddenly physically manifested on the earth! The astonished monkey could even feel the ground beneath his feet and he took a few hesitating steps. Looking down he could see that he was leaving barely perceptible tracks in the fine dust! He wanted so much to talk to the vole, he wanted to tell her how much she meant to him, how she was the only thing that he thought of, the only thing that gave meaning to his afterlife existence. The little monkey saw her sitting alone on a small log near the edge of locust creek, drawing circles in the dirt with her toes. Monkey stopped a few feet away and cleared his ghostly throat before saying,
“Hello, my name is Termius, what’s yours?”
To his utter surprise and disappointment she screamed with fright and fell over, completely unconscious. The encounter with his spirit form had been too much for her to take. He felt terrible as he had not taken this into consideration, he’d been too excited and was not thinking clearly. The dead monkey lingered near her body for a while but then he thought it might be better if he left, he didn’t want to frighten her again. He floated near an apple tree until he saw her wake up, look around, and take off running. Before a cloud of dust obscured it, he could even see a dribble of urine hanging off of a single hair sticking out of her otherwise completely smooth, light pink vagina.
Andy Aardvark watched from a distance. He was keeping a close eye on the monkey’s ghost, he was looking for any advantage to help the children capture his soul. Now he saw something.
The vole ran until she reached her family’s burrow and quickly scooted in and headed straight for her tiny room underneath a tree root. There she stayed shivering and gasping for breath. Voles didn’t believe in the afterlife but she had just seen something that contradicted all of her training. If what she had seen were true, the entire vole society would be stood on its ear! She thought hard about what to do next, should she tell someone? It was difficult, after all she was an outcast and anything she said would probably be held in contempt. As she lay there thinking, Andy Aardvark was talking to a few schoolmates about what he had seen. He told them that he had an idea about how to capture the monkey’s soul. Together they walked over to the village morgue and closely inspected what remained of the monkey’s body then they stole it and hid it away. They swore each other to secrecy and then Andy paid a visit to a powerful bush baby voodoo priestess. The aardvarkian had something to discuss with her.
The innocent little monkey spirit remained near the apple tree until he realized that the vole was not coming back any time soon. Even though he could easily breach the walls of her sanctuary he knew that if there was any chance for a meaningful relationship with her, boundaries must be respected. So once he could see that she needed some space, he decided to pay a visit to his old orangutan girlfriend. Since the death of his body he’d not felt motivated to check up on her, mostly out of the sadness he knew he’d feel if he saw her dating someone new. But he knew that life goes on and she could not be expected to mourn forever, she was bound to meet another. His girlfriend lived on the other side of alligator swamp creek in a run down shack near what used to be called “old village”. Now it was just a shit hole surrounded by fiery bog stumps and swarms of mosquito goonies. Most of the village stayed away out of fear of being bitten by one of these strange creatures. Instant paralysis and vocal seizure befell their victims whose only warning was a whispering drone and the sight of a pair of large, black eyes headed straight towards them. The next moment they would find themselves standing stock still in the last step they would ever take on this earth, mouth agape, and muscles frozen solid. The poison caused a curious reaction in the victims, their vocal chords were ratcheted wide open and whatever breath could be drawn in was immediately expelled, fuel for a scream that no one would ever hear. There was no cure and the swamp was choked with the skeletons of those who dared to tread this dangerous territory without proper protection. Through an accident, it had been discovered that only a thick covering of honey wasp feces repelled the goonies. Legend had it that this was discovered when monkey’s great uncle hermes was fleeing Andy aardvark’s grandfather, Asa, and accidentally ran through a giant nest of the wasps whose fecal matter also happened to be an aardvark delicacy. Ironically, in trying to get away he had only made himself more attractive to his pursuers. In a further irony, this was what enabled him to eventually escape from Asa Aardvark and crew. In their lust to murder the monkey and eat the wasp shit they forgot about the goonies and were promptly bitten upon entering the swamp. Through the years their bones had crumbled into the swamp until nothing remained but the story. Now as he drew ever closer to his girlfriend’s house the real world came back into focus, the vision was gone. He could not see her standing around anywhere but then he caught a glimpse of one of her elaborate scarves waving out of a second floor window. Speckles of shit were weighing it down and it struggled to remain aloft in the putrid wind. Closer and closer he came until he could now see that his orangutan girlfriend was dead, killed in a bizarre sex act. She was eternally locked in a fatal anal stroke with the ugly pelican bad ass who had killed them both with a .357 magnum shoved down her throat, the barrel pointed at the back of her skull. The explosion had been powerful enough to rip the bullet completely through both of their heads. Monkey could see where the bullet had broken a jagged crack in the upper portion of the bone on the pelican’s skull, back where it was thinnest. Poor monkey could still feel the pain of the mortal sting caused by this horrific sight. Suddenly the orangutan spirit wrenched itself free from the corpse and quavered into existence. The form become recognizable after only a few seconds, Monkey could plainly see that it truly was his girlfriend. All of its pain was gone now, it was finally free of all earthly torment. How wonderful! Her orange fur glowed red as the glory of god himself shone through, lighting the path to a glorious eternity. But it was not to be as the black shadow form of an evil pelican demon came pouring out of the shit-stained penis and projected itself onto the surface of the very roof. The beak had grown teeth and scales were beginning to appear on his wings; he was metamorphosing into a horrible dragon creature. The orangutan’s bright shade turned charcoal gray as a fissure tore the ground and an awful belch of crisping flesh escaped and burned little monkey’s ethereal nostrils. The opening grew ever wider and now monkey could see layers of hell, each worse than the last. Near the middle he could see his Uncle Hermes being chased for all eternity by a devilish Asa Aardvark. Around and around they went, Hermes acutely aware of each tick of the cartoonish grandfather clock whose face they endlessly circled while the satanic aardvark was blissfully untouched by any concept of the passage of time. He never grew tired of the chase and his fiery erection spewed fountains of lava that melted the ever-regenerating body of the damned simian. Now Monkey watched a giant living sheet of black mercury form a seething noose with a pit of rotting teeth churning in the middle; he knew this was to be his girlfriend’s infinite existence. The poor creature watched in horror as her soul was sucked into the winds, banished forever from the presence of god. Finally, a giant colon filled with a universe of decayed red meat and cancer emptied itself through the anus of hell onto the floor of the hut. A tub of curdled yellow worms ate through the wood and gushed into the water of the swamp. The essence of pure hatred filtered through the roots of the plants and worked a strange transformation on the dissolved bones and long dead flesh that still remained. An army of resurrected corpses was being raised there in the old village and monkey could not determine its purpose. Was hell asserting its dominion over the kingdom of the earth? He was filled with terror and willed himself back by the old apple tree, safe for the moment from what looked like the ultimate showdown between good and evil.
Meanwhile, the young vole finally got up her nerve to see her auditor. She wasn’t scheduled for an evaluation but she needed to talk to someone about what she’d seen. Strangely without fear she burst into the woman’s office and interrupted a session already in progress. Unfortunately, her actions marooned a novice in tableau on an astral plane far beyond the reach of even the most heavenly of spirits. The auditor screamed at the young albino female and tried in vain to revive the stranded body. Shouting psychobabble code words, the highly trained secular vole missionary went through her own rituals that had been codified long ago in the Vole’s behavior modification institute. Despite the interference, the albino spilled her guts, she blurted everything out as fast as she could open her mouth. Finally the humanist shaman listened with a keen ear, thrice she asked for the story to be repeated each time appearing even more deeply in thought, seeming to be carefully weighing every word and assigning it an order of importance. Even so, the young vole was surprised when the auditor asked to be led to the log by the old apple tree near the edge of locust creek. They moved quickly and monkey saw them rounding the corner and headed straight for him. The vole (we’ll just call her Rebecca from here on out) stood near the log and pointed directly at the simian footprints there in the finely powdered dust. Monkey felt for a moment as though he’d once landed on the moon and those impressions were the proof of it. After what he’d seen back at the hut he knew there was an extreme sense of urgency so he immediately materialized and begged them to not be afraid, he had a terrible warning for the world. Stunned beyond amazement, the auditor could see that this was a real experience and quickly ran back to their burrows and returned with the entire population of skeptical voles. They listened with rapt attention as the dead monkey told them the score.
Here we come to a diversion in the story. Just down from the swamp was alligator creek proper where the waters flowed clear and this is where the scene is staged. A family of beavers was camping out on the shore, the young son sitting on a small log, fishing with a cane pole. The mother was busying herself with helping their eldest daughter set up their tent. Father beaver walked out to log and said,
“Hello, son. Have you caught anything yet?”
“No, dad, not yet.”
The father laughs with his son as they go through the routine. Shuffling through the streets of Beaverton with all of the other ultimate shoppers, the beaver parents had read about a family trip like this in a magazine in the supermarket checkout line. Father beaver bade farewell to his son and headed on down river, eager to catch some fish in a friendly father-son fishing contest.
“Bye, dad!”
“Goodbye, son!”
Down in the water the son noticed something moving, green smoke was stirring up from the creek bed. He set his fishing pole down and jumped from the log, splashing directly into the water. His feet felt warm as the green substance touched his skin. The young beaver’s penis stood straight up and his teeth shone brightly in the late afternoon sun. Some time passes then…Beaver mama felt something brushing her tail and figured it was her husband. With a smile on her face, she turned around expecting to see him with perhaps a small fish to cook. Of course, the son was standing there with a rock hard erection and a happy smile on his face. His feet were smeared with some kind of green moss and then he gently dragged a small twig across his swollen nuts. Suddenly a thin, 20 foot stream of jism shot out of the space between the zipper and the button on his Tommy Hilfiger shorts. He smiled broadly and thrust out his chest, it was his first orgasm and he wanted his mother to be proud of him. Mama beaver did notice that there was no refractory period; he was still hard as an oak. Just then, Father Beaver rounded up the path from the river. His excited walk slowed to a crawl and he ultimately stopped just a couple of feet away from his erect son. Daddy Beaver’s brain spun wildly as he pondered his son’s enormous penis and the gobs of potent beaver jism hanging from the tree leaves. A huge wad of it was poised for a crash landing on his wife’s expensive hair styling and it was time for Saint Dad to assume control. Dropping his small catch of fish he lunged and pushed her out of the way just in the nick of time, the sperm fell harmlessly to the ground. Or so they thought; the proud parents watched an army of blue crab creatures spawn there in the mud puddle of cum and dirt. They were strange, primordial crustaceans that contained a poisonous fluid; they could see it leaking from the gaps in their chitinous plating. Each one of the evil creatures turned and walked into the water rising from the creek. The water turned yellow as the ancient beings hid themselves under a large rock just about fifteen feet away from the rabid son. When he turned to look at them, they began moving from beneath their cesspool and the father could see the danger. Beaver Daddy screamed at his son to look away, he knew that the blue crabs had been waiting for him to dare take a glance. Somehow they knew, they held a terrible power over the family. Father on fire ran to his son and offered up the dirty fish,
“Hey, son! Looks like we got a winner here! We’ll have this for supper tonight!”
Beaver mama cried out when she noticed their daughter’s legs hanging from an alligator moccasin’s mouth that came swimming past. Beaver parents could not react as the fat snake wobbled too close to the den of poison and one of the creatures’ claws pierced its belly. The snake’s skin peeled away and turned to gummy rot that the crab pulled to his primitive mouth and slurped down. Their daughter’s body was shit out by the dead snake and the crabs waited for the beavers to try and retrieve it. They knew it was useless and instead decided to focus their attention on their one living child. Beaver Daddy took his son’s hand and crept backward, ever so slowly, towards the safety of their RV. The green slime’s hold was too powerful, however, and the son escaped and ran immediately over to the fish and jammed the treble hook into his testicles. Somehow he managed to cast himself up into the highest branch of a mighty oak where he screamed and screamed in pain. Beaver Daddy knew now that his son was in real trouble and so he rushed to the tree’s trunk and gnawed as quickly as he could, trying to fell the tree and rescue his son. Meanwhile, the mother was edging ever closer to their daughter’s corpse and bubbles erupted from beneath the rock, the creatures were emerging. Torn between preventing his wife from being absorbed by the blue crabs’ poison and saving his son he lost all control and attempted to chop down the tree with his head. His shriek became a helpless gurgle as his spine was snapped by the unyielding bark and his limp body slid down into a tangle of roots. He could only watch as one of the blue crabs charged at his wife just as she reached their daughter’s bloated fingertips. Beaver daddy was amazed when his wife whipped out a tent pole and smashed it over and over again into its shell. The creature stopped and began a strange transformation into a humanoid shape while poison leaked out through cracks in its armor. It trickled down and almost instantly the water around the rock was filled with dead crabs and their rotten smell evaporated the one remaining strange humanoid to a pile of bones and garbage. At last the hook tore through the child’s balls and the still screaming son fell hard into the foul mud. For a moment there was silence as he’d had the wind knocked out of him but he regained his breath right in the middle of his loudest shriek. The mother beaver grabbed daddy’s right hand and shoved it down the son’s throat until he stopped struggling and died.
Beaver mama managed to ring the distress signal in their RV and some anteater medics arrived and took them to the hospital. Beaver Daddy was permanently paralyzed and it took 8 years for him to die, with only one week spent being optimistic about a miracle cure. After the first month his wife started bringing her new husband with her on her visits. He knew she would marry again but not so soon. The first time he saw them together he blinked twice for “no” over and over again but she patted his hand and made him smell her new perfume. After the third year she continued to visit but now she also brought along her new children, a boy and two girls, the replacements for what they’d once had together. Eventually he developed alopecia and all of his hair fell out. His wife and her new family gathered up the hair and while he lay there wallowing in his own shit they stuck it back to his body in the form of an afro and a beard. They fashioned for him a shit wig in hopes that his upgraded appearance would improve his spirits. For days they posed and took pictures with Beaver Daddy. Teeth grating pleasantries filled the room as he was encouraged to stay alive by members of his church and office. Even unto the sixth year they prayed by his bed and asked all of the beaver gods to help him recover. When the prayers were done, they talked to him incessantly about death, the stock market, and their home stereo speakers. His eternal reply was a dull stare and the mechanical clicking of the respirator moving his lungs, sucking in oxygen and expelling waste. All of the pictures from throughout his hospital stay were posted on the crude bulletin board the nurses had constructed for him along with older photos of him in his role as a successful businessman and father. Saint Dad, Father on Fire. They had created a portrait of his life there for all of the other patients and medical staff to see. …. The stench of drying shit and burned hair permeated the room and he rarely slept. But it wasn’t until after they had replaced both of his hips and pulled all of his teeth that he gave up on love. On New Year’s Day of the eighth year he was left alone in his room with a brand new pair of shoes and a plastic Christmas tree when he decided to pull the plug. His vaseline covered lips blew a lonely kiss towards a vision of his wife’s new husband and with his quivering jaw and flailing tongue he managed to toss the oxygen tube aside. The force of the air acted like a tiny jet and propelled it through an open window where fate once again made herself known. Beneath the air conditioning vent on that floor was a large nest of hornets. The tube floated out the window and soon was sucking them up into the respirator and they flew into his lungs and stung him from the inside. Beaver Daddy’s mouth opened in a scream and with all of his might he tried to press his tongue into the button that would call the nurses but he failed and he could not make a sound as he ran completely out of breath and died all alone. The last image to register with his visual cortex was of a picture of him with his son, standing next to a tree with an axe. This was also placed next to his coffin at the service attended only by the mortuary assistant.
Meanwhile, back at the apple tree, the spirit monkey knew why he had not been sent on to heaven, his purpose was now apparent. Having fully realized this just in the past few seconds, he impulsively shouted to the gathered voles,
“I have been assigned this existence to warn of the arrival of dread Lucifer’s reign on earth! At this very moment a gateway has been opened down at alligator swamp creek and demons are taking on the flesh of those long dead. You are the chosen people and I have come to lead you back to the faith of your ancestors. Rise up and pledge loyalty to Moses, Elijah and other of Yahweh’s great prophets and through him you shall surely defeat this hellish foe!”
The monkey felt incredible power surging until at last he achieved total mass retain. A suit of armor forged in Gabriel’s furnace now encased him, truly he was being blessed. The voles swore an oath of loyalty to a forgotten, impotent god and rushed to prepare for battle.
While hell spilled forth its bowels and the monkey rallied the voles, Andy and crew were busy with the priestess. They had paid her well and with each passing moment they became more and more excited. Something wonderful was happening and soon their work will have been done.
A horde of voles donned archaic shielding and scraped rust off of weapons retrieved from their various museums. They gathered on a small hill just beyond the old apple tree and looked westward to the swamps, in the distance a tall column of ash rose up and the spreading cloud moved to cover the village. The anointed little creature looked once more across the way and he could see rows of risen corpses marching through the town square accompanied by a huge cloud of angry mosquito goonies. The undead were immune to their sickness and the insects’ large black eyes grew heavy with rage. Townspeople running from the zombies were now being bitten and in some places their bodies piled up like cordwood as they became paralyzed. Little Monkey knew that the time for action had come. He commanded Noah’s favorite son, Ham, to sound the bugle charge! The voles came crashing into the hell spawn’s frontal assault and were quickly raped and murdered. One of the first to die was the auditor. She made a clumsy swing with a broad axe, which caused her to fall straight down and cut her own throat with the dirty edge of the blade. Her jugular vein was exposed and hung out like a thin black rope from the side of her throat. She looked at it in horror, the end of her life was here and it was a pathetic joke. A shuffling mummy reached out and pinched it together in the middle until one side burst in an aneuritic spray, sending the soul of the doubtful auditor straight into old village where it was reincarnated and promptly stung by one of the few remaining mosquito goonies. Asa Aardvark had been given the opportunity to return in his old body and had made sure to get his money’s worth. With one hand he held Rebecca by the tip of her exquisite little nostrils and with the other he softly tickled her pink belly. He was pleased when a pencil thin stream of avacado green shit came curling out of her ass and down onto his rod. It was going to make for some unbelievable lubrication for when he jammed it hard into her little cunt. The ghoulish aardvark had long range plans for the young albino female, he did not intend to kill her with just one thrust. Thus his patience as Rebecca’s bowels slowly emptied themselves of their meager contents. Smallish goblins, giant ogres, and awful skeletons gathered around to watch the action. At last it appeared to be enough and he slowly lowered her sweating little cooze to the tip of his cock and rubbed it around a little bit, giving it a good slick coating. He grasped her firmly on each side and tried to make the initial penetration but it was difficult, the darker red meat of her inner vadge became visible as her body attempted to swallow his large, knobbed penis. She squealed loudly in fear and pain so he put duct tape over her mouth and nose so that she could not breath. The twisted aardvark tried hard to fuck her before she died and he got it in just past the head before he split her wide open. Knowing it would be a more popular image with the crowd, the aardvark ripped off the tape so that everyone would see the blood on Rebecca’s tiny milk teeth. When he saw that she was able to take a few last breaths, when he saw the humiliation on her sad, shrinking face, Asa knew that he would eagerly renew his devotion to Satan. All of hell’s torments were worth these few moments of universal joy. Poor Little Monkey watched Rebecca’s life ebb and heard her voice join the chorus of those now in the swamp. Then suddenly Monkey could see that there was one hut unaffected by the boiling brimstone and sulfur. Its door opened and out stepped Andy Aardvark followed by his reincarnated girlfriend. She looked like a Star Trek transporter malfunction. When the new flesh had grown in, it merged with part of a rotten log and now a tiny pool of mosquito nymphs swam in her forehead. The mutant red ape struggled to keep up with Andy as they walked out to the edge of the flames. For a few moments there was silence as the foul aardvarkian stared hard at the ghost monkey. He snapped his fingers and little monkey’s old girlfriend smeared on some bright red lipstick before stepping forward and opening her mouth wide under Andy’s tail. It was actually anticlimactic when the aardvark let loose a titanic blast of shit, filling her mouth and plugging her nostrils. A crowd of demons was disappointed; they had wanted the girlfriend to dig it out with her fingernails.
Some of the droplets hit the lava and little golem creatures arose and began constructing a house amidst the flames. A final, grainy turd popped out of his ass and into her mouth. It quickly ate through her tongue and came out the bottom of her jaw.
What was left to him now? What was to be his fate? He’d led an army of atheistic voles into battle with the evil one and all had been lost, every last one of them had died. Nothing good could ever come of his life, not even its end. All of the jungle was now under the control of hell’s minions and he prayed for the intercession of god.
Andy stepped aside and his girlfriend calmly walked out into the lava and was slowly, horribly consumed. Even her bones were burning before she fell dead once again. The aardvark turned and pissed on the corpse before the small homunculus retrieved her and placed the remaining pieces inside the house. None of her dress was left and, strangely, what had been most well preserved was everything below the waist. Her pubic hair had been singed off, leaving what looked like a perfectly shaved pussy with a healthy dose of dark black labia. Steam was rising from their wrinkled folds and monkey saw them shrink as the last bit of blood bubbled out of open veins on her legs. The skeleton of a long dead soldier rose from the basement of the house and built a second layer adorned with sparkling gems. Dead soldier quickly also built a small table and the homunculus sat down in three tiny chairs around it. Skeleton creature flung itself back into the molten rock and could be seen moving around underneath for several minutes after it sank. Monkey’s heavenly armor finally disappeared and now he was beginning to feel the heat of Hades itself. A small arch demon piloted a hellish little speedboat through the ruins of the high school and up to the edge of the hut. It handed something to Andy and drove away, leaving small waves of fire in its wake. Suddenly the bush baby priestess came floating out of the hut, riding on top of a magic green carpet. All around her hung shadow wraiths, the souls of those who had sworn allegiance to her at the moment of their deaths. He could recognize the principal and the pelican was there, too, diminished now though still an extremely diabolical creature. A window appeared in the sky and a small yellow duck wearing a red ski mask and diapers stepped through it and slowly drifted down to the hut. When he landed, the duck looked over at the priestess and smiled, proudly displaying a small bead containing the soul of Albert Einstein. Andy revealed the demon’s gift; it was a long silver dagger inscribed with the names of the apostles and a pearl bubble with a drop of Jesus’ sacred blood from Calvary. It was a most holy object, surely guarded by the angelic generals of god’s army. Yet there it was in the hands of the foul aardvarkian, one of the basest creatures to ever walk through the jungle! The priestess sprinkled some magic powder on Andy and he swelled to an immense size in a matter of a few seconds. At the perfect moment, he stabbed the dagger into his stomach and exploded into fibrous tumors. The tumors grew together and formed a giant spider creature which then scuttled over to the roof of the house to knit some curtains for the windows. The ghost of the principal said
“He shall be known to thee as Daddy Longlegs.”
Bush baby princess floated out further into the flames as her minions became near legion. Monkey could count most of his old school chums in their number including the recently deceased Andy Aardvark. The foul aardvarkian’s voice rang out,
“You got about one fuckin’ second to live, buddy!”
Daddy Longlegs finished with the curtains and clothes for the tiny men and now turned his attention to the skies. He knitted a fine silken ladder to heaven and the windows of paradise opened to receive it. There in the mysterious mists of eternal glory, little monkey could see God, wearing a dress, down on all fours being fucked in the ass by Satan.
The evil one cackled and the sheer force of his breath evaporated daddy long legs and the voodoo priestess. All of the schoolchildren’s souls were now free but they remained gathered near the hut, they were still watching. Beelzebub pulled out and shot jizz into god’s flowing beard, he’d been using it to wipe the ass juice off his cock as he stove piped the creator. Now the final droplets of cum were wrung out of his barbed penis and they dripped down from the sky and knocked a gigantic hole in a lava dome. Instantly, dead people came crawling out, scraping off rotting flesh on the blistering rocks. One by one they stood up and dark black liquid poured from holes in their stomachs as their decayed organs ruptured. A giant red mosquito goonie loomed over the horizon; its beak was aimed directly at his quavering soul. The dead people walked over to the hut and retrieved his moldering corpse and with the help of the little yellow duck, they propped it up against the hut. His school chums laughed when the goonie monster sucked up Little Monkey’s spirit into its fiery stinger, this was the last step needed to enact a horrible transformation. The poor frightened creature was trapped in the belly of the beast and he knew now the terror of Jonah. Despite what he had just witnessed, he still believed in a benevolent god and he prayed with all of his might for the salvation of the jungle. It was of no use, the mosquito goonie hovered like a throbbing red helicopter of flesh and injected the soul of the little monkey back into his rotting corpse. The pain was a dull, stinking ache and his crusted eyes moved not an inch, they were dried and useless; he was totally blind. It was at that moment that Andy made his next move. He floated away from the dead monkey; he knew there was no escape for the innocent creature. The aardvarkian moved over and above the little stone house and the small men craned their necks to look up at him. One of them was now dressed as Nancy Reagan. Though the monkey could not see it, the foul aardvarkian turned and faced Satan. He dared to cast his gaze upon the evil lord. For what seemed like ages, Andy stared hard until the devil roared and with the slightest motion of his index finger, banished the aardvark to the swamp. This was exactly what he wanted to happen; by now the mosquito goonies were exhausted and full of blood. In his bargain with the priestess, she had left another small bag for him, a small container of honey wasp shit that he would retrieve and smear onto his body. This assured an easy passage back to the hut in case any of the goonies were still moving. The aardvarkian began his long march back to the cottage by first retrieving the wasp shit and smearing it liberally all over his body – then he ate the rest. It was exquisite torture to force himself to not suck on his fur. He walked out across a carpet of bloated mosquito goonies that burst like tomatoes as he stomped them one by one, a few were still hovering but out of their minds with goonie fever. At last he reached the hut and retrieved one last vial from the windowsill. It was a magic potion left by the priestess, it had also been part of their bargain. The aardvark took it all down in one gulp. Small vines emerged from his feet that then snaked towards the corpse monkey. Slowly they attached themselves and pumped fluid into the small simian. Andy grew weaker by the moment while the resurrection took place until at last he lay pale and gasping. Little Monkey had almost fully recovered now and his eyesight was sharp as he regarded the dying aardvark. As he lay heaving, Andy told him that they’d all sold their souls to arrange his death and eternal damnation, just to watch him suffer and die. The innocent creature could scarce believe the levels of complexity that surely existed within this vast conspiracy. He lay there, stunned, and watched Andy breathe his last. Instantly his spirit hovered into existence and was snatched up by Satan’s minions. The aardvark was given over to the dark master who laughed and then promptly stuck the damned soul straight into his ass. As the pressure caused his long, thin tongue to protrude far outside of his mouth, Andy managed to sputter,
“It was all worth it!” ,just before he disappeared forever into Satan’s anus.
The poor little revived monkey slowly stood up and pondered what was to be his fate. He heard the shuffling corpses moving towards him but their progress was slow, the spell was wearing off. Just then he saw his mother stagger past the front of the cabin with a mosquito goonie, drunk with blood, hanging from the edge of her neck. It reared back and lanced her jugular vein with its sharp needle. The venom quickly took hold and she was frozen dead in her tracks, mouth wide open and the horrible death wail filled the air. The bloated goonie ruptured and blood ran down her neck and sizzled on the lava below. After a few moments, the little yellow duck flew up, tore off her scalp, and shoved it into her mouth. She ran out of air very quickly and suffocated and her skin dried out and cracked. Once she was dead, the duck climbed down from her head and made a nest in her mouth with the scalp. Almost immediately he produced a bright silver egg and then he flew to the ground. He pulled a tiny remote control from beneath one of his wings and pointed it at the egg that then hatched into a giant poisonous centipede that quickly consumed her from the inside out. In only a few minutes, the centipede died and shit out an exact replica of his mother. The reincarnated being screamed at Termius, she blamed him for everything that had gone wrong, for all the souls lost due his curse. When she was done, the little homunculus left the house and melted her into slag with some strange weapons they had crafted from the lava. They took the remains and plastered the house with it. Monkey was puzzled when the house turned into a huge rocket ship and blasted off into outer space. He watched until it disappeared through the upper levels of the thick smoke that hovered around the earth now. Finally the dead people came for him and with the help of the little yellow duck they peeled off all of his skin and cut out his tongue. Throughout all of this he remained silent though tears streamed from his eyes. Just before he went blind, he saw Rebecca being run over by a giant steamroller driven by a dwarven hunchback. The duck laughed as it excavated Little Monkey’s eyeballs. He then ran the innocent simian’s tongue back and forth through his eye sockets until the friction wore his skull down to a shell. As the heat cooked his brain he once again died and hovered into existence long enough to see God finally grow tired of this little game with Satan. With a mighty wind everything was scattered away and monkey beheld the pure universe in all of its glory. Far in the distance was the wonderful glowing land of the saints and martyrs, living in eternal happiness. How he longed to be a part of it! But it was not to be; the lord of all creation looked down on him, the largest frown in the existence was on his face. A little trap door opened in the heavens near God’s feet and the ugly pelican badass jumped out, he was now brick red and black smoke issued from his body. He waddled over and with a horrible whip he drove the spirit monkey down through the door into hell. The journey on the stairway down was completely silent, neither monkey nor the pelican said a word; a conversation could serve no purpose now. When he arrived in Hades he was shoved through an opening in a wall and the exit disappeared as the elevator went back up. He saw Asa and his uncle Hermes in a cage together just across from him. They were surrounded on all sides by a vast maze of thick brush and thorns. Countless aisles and corridors stretched out on the horizon, they seemed to follow the curve of the earth. Each one had a destination; a date with rape by the foul aardvarkian or a shrieking rendezvous with his insane uncle. Monkey knew all of this instinctively, somehow the information was fed into his brain. Meanwhile, in the cage, Asa was hunched over Hermes, slowly pumping his barbed penis in and out of the monkey’s mouth. Jism was pouring out and running down his chest. The evil aardvark saw monkey looking at him and so he hopped down and unlocked the cage. He left the door open and Hermes ran away screaming and vanished into a giant hedgerow. Monkey could hear the stiff rustling of the leaves and branches as his uncle fled for his life. Asa took his time though little monkey didn’t try to get away. Accompanied by a chorus of demons, Asa sang a doo-wop song while wearing a giant, black pompadour wig. When he finished he was breathing his foul, rotting fish breath right into monkey’s nostrils At the last possible second, Little Monkey ran, hoping to join his Uncle amidst the cover of twigs and thick leaves. After only a couple of minutes he found himself at a dead end but Asa somehow got their first, he couldn’t tell exactly how but he felt a rough pressure and the fish smell was there again but then these sensations were replaced by the knowledge that the twisted aardvark was now fucking a hole in his back with his sharpened aardvark cock. Gallons of jism finally shot out of his mouth as his lungs were pierced and he died. Instantly he was brought back into the maze and tried again to run away and hide. Each time Asa captured him, sometimes quickly, sometimes in an elaborate cat and mouse game. When he wasn’t being raped and killed he witnessed his Uncle Hermes being fucked and beaten raw and then eviscerated over and over again. One time it snowed and the aardvark put his uncle through a wood chipper, just like in a movie monkey had once seen. Every once in a while in his tortured brain, he realized where he had been and where he was going. He knew that he would be locked in the maze with Asa and his insane Uncle for all eternity. Raped and humiliated until the end of the Universe.
Up above, God created a new heaven and a new earth with a new schoolhouse and new schoolchildren. Despite what they had done, God accepted their deeds as part of the pact he’d made with the voodoo princess. Each one of them had full knowledge of all that had transpired and they knew that their mission had been accomplished. Moses himself came down with a small golden box that contained the last token of their agreement with the priestess. The great prophet spake unto them,
“Behold, it is done.”
Andy Aardvark stepped up and claimed the prize. While Moses’ spirit dissipated, the foul aardvarkian flicked his lit cigarette butt through the fine mist.
After this, he quickly pried open the lid and took out a large ant farm, the kind you find in children’s rooms all throughout the world. The excited aardvark took it into the schoolhouse and placed it under a light so that they could take a good look. They all gathered round and watched three small specks running through a tiny maze under the glass. One of the children produced a magnifying glass and now they could all see that the black dots were actually two monkeys being chased by an aardvark with a red-hot erection. One of them was clearly the innocent little monkey that they hated so much. The children laughed and laughed for days while they watched him get fucked to death twice every ten minutes. Eventually the novelty wore off and Andy Aardvark busted out the glass and pissed on the maze. The schoolchildren laughed again at this and then they all went down to the courthouse and fucked his mother.
The principal only smiled.
Eli is the co-owner, and editor-in-chef of Black Hole Unicorn. He is also a drummer, engineer, writer, painter, and time traveller. And yes... I know it says editor in chef.