☁️🔝👑
“Could someone please, please, pleeease pass me my flipper floppers?” squealed the prim and pampered, dramatically bringing her heels to a 45 degree angle to minimise the surface area of skin contacting the steaming sand.
Jack scrambled with their luggage.
“No problem Sugar-Love-Plum-Princess, just give me a sec…” he replied as he proceeded to stick his hand deep into the abyss of her chic vacation bag.
The poor boyfriend was soon to discover that although fashionable, the portation device bestowed upon him contained no traces of inner separators.
“Fucking females, never give a second thought to practicality,” he bitterly synthesised. Unsure whether his annoyance had been safely bottled into containment within his innermost architecture, Jack kept his mouth shut and dispelled the desired pink plastic pieces from the depths of the sack. In seconds, the fluorescent spots lay limp, tarnishing the purity of the white sand.
The girlfriend seemed not to notice the forceful energy of anger seeping steadily from her beloved. She approached him in an uncomfortably close attraction, bringing her lipsticked smackers to meet his normal ones. Tongues flashed wildly in the oppressing heat. Before long, more body parts were involved as Jack’s disgustingly sweaty fingers enmeshed into the crows-nest composed of Farah’s extensions.
The third member of the party (Ralph) shifted his weight uncomfortably and looked away. Unfortunately, he had no way of closing his ears to the sickly sound.
“Better get used to it,” thought the third wheel as he marched on ahead.
Slowly but surely, the trio made their way up from the beach. Solace was finally found beneath the first trees that formed a thick canopy overlying the rest of the island. Once no longer driven to action by the tiny boiling rocks beneath their toes, the members of trio could breathe easy again.
“Such a beautiful island!! Jaaaack, Snookum-Cuddle-Daddy-Bubbakins, could ya please just take your shirt off and move that way so I can get a nice photo of your back?…And then Ralph, can you get one of us kissing over there by that tree? But give me a minute, I first need to see the colour combos and think about how it’s all gonna fit into my feed…” announced Farah in singsong as she pranced towards the pink orchids decorating the palm-lined path.
Jack exhaled slowly, counting to ten, just as their relationship therapist Jody had taught him during the couple’s previous visit.
“Fine,” he spat.
Ralph tried to ignore them but knew this to be just the beginning. It was definitely going to be one long week. He hoped that there would at least be some success with the project at the Research Institute, but more importantly, he hoped to have the opportunity to befriend, and maybe even to impress, Professor Tanaka. Ralph had always been intelligent and had managed to skirt through his degree without much extra reading. However, the work of this Japanese mastermind, had somehow managed to light within him the burning flame of academic interest.
In all honesty, Ralph had first caught a glimpse of a Tanaka related headline while invading the privacy of the poor soul sat in front of him on the Central Line. Later that evening, having once again found himself second place to the woman – or really women – in his flatmate’s life, Ralph had secretly punched the composition of memorised symbols into the search bar of his internet browser.
Even with the help of his well-equipped wits, it had taken him about a solid hour to comprehend the main gist of the information…
Evidently, thanks to new deep sea-mongering technology, Tanaka’s team at North-Western University had identified a new type of never before seen protein in the Novus Rhodophyta, a red algae found only in select regions of the Caribbean sea. Unsurprisingly, the protein had been named Tanakadine after the Professor. What was more interesting was that the molecule had been hypothesised to be directly related to the insanely long lifespan of the plant. It was not only the protein that was strange, but also the entirety of the DNA sequence of the plant: the hydrogen bonds between the nitrogenous bases in the DNA were somehow interchanged so instead of Thymine linking to Adenine and Guanine to Cytosine as was common with all other known species on earth, Thymine was tied to Adenine and Guanine to Cytosine.
The researchers had understandably been utterly floored. How could the organism in question manage to survive on the earth and to produce all the same proteins as other organisms with the one measly addition of Takenide?
Ralph knew this discovery to be something that had the potential to change the course of science as we knew it. This could even be a central factor contributing to uncovering the key to immortality!
What was even more exciting was that this same deep-sea inspecting technology had recently identified another creature with similar features on the coast of Japan, just 20 km southwards of the island Nagannu. This new addition to the landscape had seemingly just appeared out of nowhere at around the same time as this whole Novus Rhodophyta conundrum had been taking place. It was all a bit odd and science fictony, so the reader may expect people of power to have taken to this new development. However, this new development had been classified as quite a minor and potentially positive development compared to the barrage of more immediate issues already racking the earth.
This new creature was a jelly-fish, known as the Spero Aurita. The researchers part of the squad who had discovered the invertebrate had nearly shit themselves when they had manage to identify components originating all the way back to 430 BC. At first, the scientists had assumed the organism to be utilising cell transdifferentiation (a process recently discovered to be occurring in many such ancient organisms) in order to survive for this long. It was a shame then, that the protein analyser that would have been utilised to carry out the operation had mysteriously blown up whilst attempting to get to the bottom of this epic stumper.
Both the Novus Rhodophyta as well as the Spero Aurita Case were now the hottest topics among the scientific community, presenting the elite brainiacs of our kind with a deathly trifecta of unanswered questions:
1) What had caused the mutilated gene sequence of the Novus Rhodophyta and how was it still mostly very similar to other earthly beings?
2) What was the origin of the island?
3) What was the reason for the explosion?
Ralph had been over the moon when he had spotted the opportunity provided by his university to get involved with assisting in the research. Maybe it could even be him to answer one of the lines of inquiry stimulated above…
Due to his previous burning passion for this project, Ralph had been bewilder to find that this opportunity had not been well advertised: the flier posted on to the information board of the ‘lounge area’ of his faculty building had been one of the most boring he had ever encountered on any info board during his 21 years of existence. Opening up his Android as he stood staring at that same info board in that same faculty building, Ralph had for the first time witnessed what he was really to come.
“Good shit man, good shit,” he had thought.
He reasoned that even if the research team had no luck in coming to a satisfactory conclusion, then at least he could achieve something respectable for his CV while also spending a complimentary week in a warm and foreign place.
The only downside, it seemed, was his misfortune in terms of travel companions. Instead of any of the other 7.5 billion people in the world, the only two accompanying him had been Jack and Farah, by far the most obnoxious people he had ever had the displeasure of knowing.
He glanced back at the happy couple, now laid fully on top of each other in the sand, iPhones erected to shield their faces from the burning sun. In his fantasies, he would at this exact moment have been spreading sun lotion upon the supple surface of the 10/10 he worked with – or more accurately just stared at – during his Wednesday morning labs. Instead, here he was, praying that these two lovebirds would keep their clothes on long enough for him to be out of eyesight.
“It’ll all be worth it, it’ll all be worth it in the end,” he thought, trying his utmost best to retain this calming mantra in his mind.
Out of nowhere, he nearly fell face first into the matted greenery. Rising onto the two standing helpers attached to his lower stomache, he expected to find a rock, or a root. Instead, he discovered that it was in fact a hollow white shape that had caught the end of his boot.
Ralph brought the object up closer to his subpar visors. The insides of his palms felt the bumpy and rigid exterior of the white blob.
A conch! How exciting! He quickly concluded that it was probably a wild little beach animal that had been the one to drag this bony sea accessory past the dusky and pungent tree line to where he was currently stood.
After inspecting it from every angle, he lifted the thing to his ear, impregnating his oral track with the calming hush of some silky waves.
How peaceful. All he wanted to do was to crawl into the passageway of the conch and to stay there forever.
It was then that a strange, irresistible urge overtook him. He knew then that he needed to blow on it and that he needed to do it now. Without a hint of reasonable explanation backing the action, he wiped the end of the shell with the edge of his grubby t-shirt and brought it up to his lips.
The device that had just a moment ago been radiating with peace and perfection became belligerent. A majestic trumpeting noise filled the air as the sound waves oscillated further from him, reaching towards their home in the sea.
“What the hell was that Ralph?” piped Jack.
“I found a conch!” replied Ralph excitedly.
“Uuuuuu, bring it here so I can get a pic!” exclaimed Farah.
“Come on guys you’ve gotta get up, we need to start making our way towards the Research Institute. We promised we would be there by noon but it’s already 2 pm” said Ralph glancing at his watch and sticking the conch into the side pocket of his cargo shorts.
☁️🔝👑
As they trudged through the hanging branches of the forest, the weather began to sour. It wasn’t very noticeable at first, but after a few more paces they knew that a storm was definitely imminent.
Farah was the first to complain:
“What’s up with this weather? I didn’t go to the salon last week cause I assumed that that’s what this vacation was for! I can’t go around looking like a fucking albino! Jack Honey-Boo-Love-Thing, I’m gonna need to find a corner store that sells tanning spray,” she worried.
Jack didn’t reply, choosing instead to grip his walking stick just as tad bit tighter.
The doom and gloom that had overtaken the island were unmistakable. There would be thunder and probably some lightning too.
Secretly, Ralph grew more worried with every single tick of his sleek silver time-piece. Since the mobile service on the island was not notably efficient, Ralph had been given a physical map that should lead the three Musketeers to their desired location. But by this point, they had long since passed the point marked X on the map where the Institute should supposedly had been.
Ralph the navigator refused to suspect this to be a fault of his own – he knew himself to be proficient at map reading due to having been part of the Boy Scouts for the entirety of his time in lower education and due to having managed to complete the Duke of Edinburgh Diamond Challenge (involving a triathlon of hiking, canoeing and cycling) completely on his own. It is important to note however, that the second feat was really more a product of social failure than anything else: although Ralph had at the time claimed the solitary component of the adventure to be an impressive inclusion for his personal statement, the reality was that this had been a result of not having had many close friends to go with in the first place.
“The only other logical explanation for why we haven’t yet found the Institute is because the scaling system of the map we have been given is somehow faulty,” realised Ralph.
Not wanting to insight panic, he had not disclosed this little factoid the rest of the group. He had also kept his mouth-framers tightly together because he spied a huge boulder in the distance.
“In my experience, people are more likely to set up camp near a visible natural monument if one is available,” he reflected.
His favorite real-world example of this was the metropolis of Rome, a city constructed off the coast on seven hills.
So they marched on.
Soon, even the dimmer among them began to suspect that something was up.
“Are we there yet? I’m like so fucking past the point where I won’t be able to take another step or I’ll die,” moaned Farah.
Fat drops of cool percipitation added to the moistness that had already congregated at the tops of their heads.
“Yeah bro, are you sure that you’re reading that map thing right?” asked Jack.
“Uhh I think so…uhh it shouldn’t be much further,” lied Ralph.
Thunder clapped against the hills, releasing an enormous gush from beyond the upmost touchings of the trees.
️☁️🔝👑
Disaster, destruction. Uneven crystals of smashed glass glimmered in the morning sun, richly adorning the perimeter of the ravaged skeleton of oddly edged iron bars. This had for sure had at some point constituted the Research Institute, but the thing was now nearly past the point of intelligibility.
The trio stared at the scene open mouthed. Having managed to configure his jaws to a more natural position, a brave soul produced wise words.
“Well…at least we found it,” remarked Ralph.
“OH MAI GAWD!!” shrieked Farah.
“Swoosh,” the birds in the treetops shot off. The piercing wail was worse than any predator.
“We’re lost, alone in the jungle, with no service, no way to get home!” she continued. A clear, wet substance brimmed at the edges of her immaculate cat-eye, spilling over to coat the plump and rosy lower third of her painted visage.
Even Jack was speechless. In fact, upon closer examination, it was clear that there was no longer an undercurrent of pent up rage radiating from his unnecessarily heavy hiking gear. Jack’s calmness could only be attributed to the magic existing on the island: there was realistically no other way this masculine hunk of muscle had managed so abruptly to inhabit this current position with an air of strange serenity.
Once again, it would be Ralph to figure this one out. The most intelligent of them squatted for a second, placing his head between his legs. Since he had been able to walk, this had been his preferred thinking position. Although the stance had long-since been outlawed by his mother, there was no doubt about its efficacy. He had, for instance, been face down between his thighs when he had decided that it was probably better idea to ignore the loss of a bet that stipulated he get a pink versions of one those fades with a strange squiggly line through it to replace his previous compact cut.
For some reason, this pose currently seemed to be having a much less pronounced positive impact on his pattern of thought. What could they do now? No ideas or pieces of plans occurred to him and he was forced to admit that he lacked a solution.
Notwithstanding, he was most certain that panicking would doubtlessly be the worst route to take.
It was now that a lone thought appeared bold in his mind:
“We must move on, it is dangerous here.”
The appearance of this singular line was analogous to a divine revelation. He knew it unquestionably and incontestably to be true. Undoubtedly, he was more certain of this danger than he had been of anything else in his entire life.
Now all he needed to do was get the others to believe, to understand things as he saw them.
Abruptly, bits of blonde obscured his vision. This was odd. Ralph always made a point to keep his hair short and had at some point even somewhat seriously contemplated a super short and wackily coloured buzzcut as has been previously mentioned. Alas, it was no lie that this mop of faded luminosity had seemed to mysteriously elongate during the few hours the three had been on the island.
He brushed to dangling pieces away from in front of his glimmering globes, turning his attention once more towards the shaken lovers.
He voiced his introspections to the rest:
“Ok. This isn’t great. We need to devise a plan. But before we do, we need to get the fuck out of here. Not gonna lie you guys, I’ve got a really bad feeling about this place.”
Big-Man Jack attempted to hide the tears welling-up behind his machoistic demeanour by coughing. Understandably, the undertaking was doomed from the start: he chocked, expelling a sole specimen onto his stubble.
“True, let’s get out of here,” sniffled the sensitive side from underneath the testosterone.
Meanwhile, the leader of the pack was freaking out internally. The only way to deal with this was to calm himself with some deep Ujjayi breathing. He force himself to concentrate on the sensation of the airflow moving in and out of his earthly form. In moments, his device of reason alighted to action.
Essentially, the three had two options. The first was travelling back to the beach where they came from and the second was to make movements towards the boulder far off in the distance. According to the Ralph’s estimations, the boulder was at this point slightly closer compared to the beach. Moreover, although he could not see far into the distance due to the pattering rain falling from above, there was still a possibility of there being some sort of caves either below or around the rock. If this was true, these would most definitely provide the opportunity for a short rest while the group gathered their strength and searched for a means to tackle their misfortune.
“Oh shit, ahhh JACK RALPH!!” bawled Farrah, whose mascara had created thick tracks leading down to her chin.
The boys turned.
An inanimate ornament stuck out from between the matted greenery. From where the boys were stood, it appeared to be a compilement of silver, red and yellow peeking out from between the trees. As the men moved closer and adopted Farah’s perspective, they understood that the thing was in fact a face. The mask eyed them eerily from its hiding place.
It had stopped raining, but as the three familiarised themselves with their new friend, a cold shiver passed through each individual corpus. Within the form of reality that existed at that moment on the island, our main characters were witnessing the same incredible event.
Still in this trance, Jack’s right arm began to move towards the mask and was inexplicably drawn in by its magnetic energy. Trained by years of practice, rough and nimble antennas gripped the fake face like a rugby ball…
“Crunch.”
A million splinters shot out from the midst of his palm.
Ralph and Farah stared in horror.
“I,I just couldn’t help it…you, you, you don’t understand,” mused the drama-causer.
Before the other two had time to respond, another impossible episode shook them to their core.
“oOoOooOoooOOoooh!!” a sound that resembled the punk version of yodelling rang in their ears. It was close, and one could be utterly certain that the sound was nearly upon them. Boiling with violent energy once more, Jack was the only one equipped to take on the approaching enemy.
The extra man swooped down from the branches hanging close to grazing the ground, clonking them over the head. Three birds with one stone.
☁️🔝👑
Head pounding, Jack awoke in a hut. Even in his compromised state, he could immediately tell that this hut was no normal hut… His fuzzy eyes made the outlines of large machines…And no it couldn’t be…was that a Thermal Cycler? Despite having encountered one of these each and every Wednesday during his weekly lab, he had immense trouble putting a name to the sensation of familiarity.
Bringing his spine up to straight, he placed his hand onto his pounding head. Minus the vomiting that usually ensued, the feel of the scene was nearly identical to the grim after-effects of Sports Night. Jack was admittedly a bit upset over missing this week’s session and comforted himself by embarking on an imaginative journey in which his friends were sat around this table at the Student Bar at pres crowding around his overly tight nylon t-shirt, toasting to the man fallen in favour of the wants of his woman. He was just beginning to turn his attention to the imagery of the strange contraption used to pump strong alcoholic content into his compatriots, when another suspicious ioat began to draw his interest.
There were noises coming from outside.
Jack’s mind churned, straining to make sense of the situation. Two things were for certain: he was not home and he was not hungover. Thoughts floated together, weaving together an eloquent assessment:
“What the fuck just happened and where’s Farah?…oh yeah and that other dude too…I’m pretty sure there was some other guy involved.”
On his hands and knees, Jack crawled towards the rays of moonlight that had managed to creep into the enclosure. Wiggling his eyes into the hole, he observed the exterior.
Possessed by the spirit of the boogie, the tribe moved their bodies in unison. Eyes closed and arms flailing wildly, it seemed to Jack that they were all riding the same wave.
Despite his lower than average IQ, the remnants of lyrics to a famous rap song came to our confused character – the reader may at this point consider whether his own mind really even had the capability of executing such actions, or if it was just another example of the magical realism building its home on the archipelago.
“ ‘My mind’s playing tricks on me’ ,” he thought in a thick ghetto Texas accent.
Bewitched, he could not fathom the idea of removing his glare from the wildly moving figures. Men, women, children and the elderly, all partying hard, bodies swivelling together. It was intoxicating. He was suddenly gripped by an intense urge to get up and join. This was familiar.
“Let’s get lit,” he thought.
Jack rose from his knees, pushing open the sheep’s skin that had been draped over the large opening as a sort of door. He walked fast, eager to have some fun after having been dropped smack middle into the mitochondria of a stressful situation. As he drew in closer and closer, it became clear what the commotion was really about. Tribes people were dancing around the impaled head of a sow stood up vertically in relation to the muddy ground. And what was this? The mask had made a reappearance. The tall figure holding the stick was concealed down below with yet another slither of sheep’s skin.
“Interesting fashion choice,” thought Jack, “gonna need to try that on Farah some time.”
By now, their dancing continued, becoming crazier by the second. The intensity of the movements seemed to have powered a sort of projection onto the same boulder Ralph, Jack and Farah had been after all this time. Despite remaining unaware of having unseekingly reached his desired destination, Jack spied a shadow creature, moving similarly yet separately from the rest.
It was the beast.
The pre-chorus was building higher and faster and harder. The verse was looming closer and closer and closer by the second. Even our more dim-witted companion understood that it was probably not a good idea to party-crash. With the tribes people ignoring him for now, he still had the opportunity to get away. One foot after the other, he retreated backwards.
Ahh!!
He hit a wall!! On impulse, he clambered in.
And oh, he had again contacted something. This time it was a semi-soft log.
“AHHHHHHH!” screamed Farah.
“Farah!! Bunny-Button-Honey-Droplet!! It’s me!!” exclaimed Jack as he knelt down to get close to her. Hugs quickly turned to kisses, which turned to…
“Guys just to let you know I’m here too so please don’t get too excited,” droned Ralph from the right of Farah.
“Oh shit you’re here too. Mate have you seen what’s going on outside? It’s insane. Like better than the sickest rave I’ve ever been to …and…and… I swear there’s a monster…and ohh… a mask and leather speedos…” Jack trickled off.
In all honesty, although Ralph knew that what was going on outside was far from normal, he was still a long way from believing in a single sound Jack had just uttered.
“Umm alright let me gather my thoughts for just a second,” said Ralph. He quickly decided that there was no way to fix the situation by the abstract employment of intellect. The primary step would be to have a look on his own.
As Ralph peered past the opening and out into the world, he was smacked in the face with the baton of astonishment. Jack had been spot on with his description. The men and women continued to enjoy themselves animastically around a dark but colourfully headed central being. He felt as though he had been plopped straight into a scene from an Indiana Jones film.
“This is almost as crazy as the time during my gap year when I became a Hare Krishna for seven months in the mountains of Tibet,” thought Ralph.
What could they do now? Ralph was forced to admit that the possibilities for their survival seemed next to none. Notwithstanding, it was imperative that they would need to try. Ralph reasoned that if the blubbering Jack had gone unnoticed, then there was also quite a good chance that the group as a whole could sneak stealthily away from their current captors.
He let the other two in on his intentions.
“We are going to sneak away,” asserted Ralph.
At this point the darlings were somehow still conjoined into a loving embrace, with Farah smearing the reminder of her clumpy face prettying agent onto her unwilling lover. Ralph knew that he would need to be crystal clear in order to get his message across.
“It seems that the tree-line is over there to the left. We will need to try to leave AS QUIETLY AS POSSIBLE while the tribes-people are still busy doing whatever they’re doing,” he said, attempting to emphasise the most important bit.
The three remained there for a while, pooling their courage into the communal pot of anxiety. Ralph was the first to get back onto his feet.
He peered out the door. Everything looked just as it had only moments before. Now was their chance. He waved Jack and Farah to come to him.
The other two rose, following the leader.
Then, tiptoeing out, the escape was set out to to be well-planned
There she was, the messenger of downfall. This operative character was a feminine thing, a streak a purple nakedness, shimming along the outside of the mystical tribe-circle, bits bouncing.
Eyes akin to saucers, Jack stood encapsulated, drool practically dripping off the surface of his tongue.
The one rule established earlier went out the window.
“JACK KEATON PENERMANSKIT. I. CANNOT. FUCKING. BELIEVE. YOU!!” the entire tribe jerked their heads to observe the terrified trio.
Ralph thought to run but knew that this would not really make a difference. There were simply too many of them.
Jack and Farah had other plans.
“Lets go Perfect-One, get on my back and I’ll run you out the trees! We can make it!” yelled Jack.
Farah complied, pressing her ripe chest against Jack’s muscular back, struggling to make it on. For a brief moment she was there, and Jack sped forwards a few paces. These visuals strangely reminded Ralph of his lower school Palm Sunday play, an endeavour he had thankfully yet unusually managed to remain uninvolved in during his time at the academy. For the same strange reason, he did not feel it would be politically correct to disclose this thought.
Yowling and cahooting, the savages attacked. Foreigners were briefly lost in the vivid and expanseful sea of fear.
“Stop. Put them down.”
The man, the myth, the legend. It was King Geedorah, dressed in his signature sheepskin speedos and designer mask, clutching the ornament that was now wrought with buzzing flied. Even in the absence of its smell, Ralph could sense the putrid odour seething from the powerful prop.
“I will not hurt you, but I do want first to speak to you!” trumpeted the authoritative speedo-wearer. In a quick motion, he pulled the mask off his face.
It was Professor Tanaka in the flesh! Ralph could not hide the gleam of appreciation that had congregated in the rightmost corner of his rightmost eye.
“You must be wondering about all this,” stated the Professor, clearly annunciating each word, “I am King Geedorah, sent by the supreme being King Ghidorah, the three headed planet demolishing dragon brought from space to capture earth. I am aware of my altered form, and regret mostly the loss of my ability to expel electrical beams from the depths of each of my three mouths. I also miss having the power to drain the energy stores of my enemies and to employ these for my own use. Most of you earthlings have later mistaken me to be a creation of the Gorga Aliens and believed me to have arrived on earth atop a fiery meteorite, but it was in fact your initial suspicions that were on the nail: I am actually the ruler of Planet X, the location upon which I initially devised my plan for complete world domination.”
“Ooooookay, um sorry I’m not like 100% on track with this whole thing at the moment, but how exactly have you gone from being Professor Tanaka to becoming this alien-sent messenger?” inquired Ralph. At this point, this leader and ambassador of humankind was more confused than fearful.
“I am originally the creator of the infamous three headed monster, so I am currently conveying to you the spirit of him that has always resided within me. When I began my scientific research on these abnormal organisms and discovered the DNA changes that these aliens had been making, I needed to be stopped. Yes, it was them that chose to overtake my earthly Professor form entirely. But hear my words and believe me when I say that is only the beginning. Every single one of you will be turned into tribesmen and will eventually wiggle deep into the passage of primality. The earth will become ours,” he said.
“That’s deep bro,” whispered Jack.
While this sentence was to remain firmly within the confounds of his inferior frontal gyrus, in his dumbfounded state, Ralph had accidentally executed the motor plan involved in its production:
“This is almost as crazy as the time during my gap year when I tried Peyote with a Shaman OG Riverbed in the Chihuahuan desert,”
At once, the darkness in King Geedorah’s eyes subsided, giving way to regularity.
“Oh yes, I’m sure that you must be familiar with ‘The Doors of Perception’ then?” asked the Professor.
“Professor Tanaka is it you or is it the alien?” cried Jack.
“Answer my question: have you heard of scientific masterpiece or have you not?”’ demanded the Professor.
“Umm I must admit that I have not…but why is that relevant?…Professor…” started Ralph.
Professor Tanaka went off:
“What kind of small-brain asshole takes mescaline without even having heard of the ‘The Doors of Perception’?! You kids these days pay no heed to the enlightening experiences that can be brought about by introducing novel biological molecules into our bodies, experimenting wildly without appropriate controls or correct dosages. I bet you didn’t even record you experience!”
“Uhhh noo…um I don’t know what to say… Professor could you please explain what’s going so we can reach a conclusion and stop this madness?” pleaded Ralph.
The enmity in the looking holes of the alien/ professor returned.
“Your stupidity has drawn out the one’s whose body I have unfortunately been trapped in and you have managed to appeal to my humanity. For that I will grant each of you one reason that has the power to set you free. If I believe your cause to be worthy, I will allow you time to go back home until we gather more troops and invade the whole of this home-planet of yours,” explained King Geedorah.
As always, Ralph was first to form a coherent thought.
“It would be so incredible to have the opportunity to go back to my city of residence since my mum is ill. Keeping in mind that according to you the human race would in any case be headed for demise, I would just like to see her face once more before we all the rest is pieces,” said Ralph, his voice breaking at the final word.
Jack and Farah looked even more upset than Ralph.
“I love my mum so much. She gives me such great advice like helping me to lie to Farah to makes her think she’s my girlfriend so I can use her money.”
Wow, the above had really had been the most complicated utterance Jack had produced since birth. It was really such a shame that this short-term sophistication had not had a chance to rear its head during his A-levels.
“JACK KEATON PENERMANSKIT!! It’s so over. Like so fucking over. You know I don’t even really love you, I just use you for your chiselled body and for the insta-likes! And do you remember when you said it for the first time at your birthday party last month? Yeah I’m pretty sure Peal Allison, Owen Right and Gabe Poberburg don’t have trouble remembering that night either!” she yelled.
Jack’s face was turning darker by the second. Although he may not completely have grasped the deeper significance of the auspicious events that had occurred in conjunction to his natal celebrations, he was undoubtedly acquainted with innuendo. He had heard these three names too many times – these individuals actually stood for the representative symbols referring to an elite four-man group formally known as ‘the boys’.
Even a blind man could now see the venom coursing through the veins of the violated.
“At least with any of them I didn’t have to deal with any of YOUR ISSUES!” shrieked Farah.
“OUR ISSUES!!” exploded Jack.
The angry young man charged at the King, swiping the impaled hog’s upper outerdentation from his arms and elevating it dangerously from the ground.
“Whack!”
The Professor lay on his side, limp and lifeless. A current passed through him, pushing out most of his insides onto the forest floor. Chucks of salty pepperoni swam in the green liquid.
They stared in disbelief.
But our favourite Professor was not completely ‘out’. He mustered up the energy for one final phrase and directed at Ralph: “ ‘follow the light, the light is your guide’ “.
After this, the Professor was really and truly ‘out’. The spell that had wreaked havoc in the minds of the former tribespeople – really just researchers and assistants who were wearing torn up garments and covered in face – paint made from fresh berries and roots – now looked around, trying to piece together the events of the past few days from the unfinished quilt of their memories.
One such barbarian confederate happened to wander over to the non-tribal members to get better look at the Professor. In his delirious state, the curious somehow managed to step in the sick.
And oh…he slipped. The astonished now lay flat among the disgust.
☁️🔝👑
It was Thursday morning. Late as always, Ralph scurried along to his first lecture, a fat smile painted across his face. By this point, everyone had heard of the strange happenings of the misdirected scholastic excursion on the island. Initially, this could be credited to rumours spread by Jack and Farah, but the plot line of the story had later been made recognisable by a more reputable source: Ralph had been lucky enough to have his article describing the events be published in BBC Science. For some unknown reason, Ralph had unleashed his inner poet and rap lover in the title, naming the piece ‘The Burning Truth: 150 Absolute Proof’.
This development was indeed indispensably great from Ralph’s point of view, as it signified that he could be in complete control over explaining all aspects of the story. Of course, he had not failed to highlight himself as the centre of attention and the ultimate hero. According to the article, it had him to find the correct location of the Institute, him to have figured out a means to proceed on the doorstep of doom, and him to have killed the evil alien-sent messenger/ madman (there was no consensus on which he had really been since the evidence didn’t really add up perfectly to either result).
Now Ralph was back to his mundane doings. He had just arrived in the lecture hall and plopped down on the seat nearest the door, and was stuck hurriedly pulling his laptop and glass-case. It was then that he observed to the spirit of a familiar vixen enter into his sphere of space.
“Oh hellooo there,” he thought.
It was the 10/10 from his labs, wearing a white low-cut t-shirt and staring seductively into his surprised eyes. But what was this? In the dark crevice between the two soft lumps that comprised her lovely chest, a golden pendant. King Geedorah’s last words now made sense.
There it was, the light!
The temptress drew so near to him that the seams at the sides of their jeans touched. With a calm assurance and confidence in her attempt, her breathing hole reached towards the signature mole plastered on Ralph’s right earlobe.
“Drinks after this so you can tell me ALL about your trip,” she purred.
Ralph smiled, sinking deeper into the velvet softness of his chair-back.
☁️🔝👑
WAST WRTNG 