Writing : Bekanator’s Victory Party™

Wait, is it a long weekend? Maybe in Canada? The U.S. three-day is coming up this next weekend.

Should we keep the party going?

Alright, party's over. Clear out you drunkies. Uh and you junkies. You prudeez. You snooteez.

The Warqueencoolbean™ was probably just trying to act like she could keep right on going. But we all know she threw up on Utah's pressed Oxford when she was teetering atop the podium with a gin and juice martini in her purse. Hiccuping during the acceptance speech before passing out and missing all the action. Jeez, maybe we should revive her?

Someone throw a cold bucket of gin on Bek's face, she needs to kill that hangy. Pour her a bowl of Special K.

Richard, stop twiddling your opposable thumbs on that gadget and give me a hand.
Covewriter Lisa, you too, I need your help, we gotta clean this mess up. Look what these kids gone done and did to this ballroom. We are never going to get Dennis's deposit back if we don't get bizzy. 

Rachel, Boone, Manda Lynn! Hey, we said no threesomes. Party rule. Now unentwine yourselves and zip it with the canticles. Especially ones involving squirrels who purr and clocks and honeygirls™.  Grab a mop. If you must, finish up that pile of blow that Closure left on the Queen's navel as he was trying to woo her down under.

Cris, I know you can't remember what happened. Trust me. This is actually a good thing. You don't wanna know. There's only one word to describe what you kept saying was perfectly 'normal' Umbrian behaviour:
umbrian-throat-lab™.

Dakota, that bowl of Special K is for Bexster. So is the Gin. Richard, could you please deal with this literary juvenile delinquent? Yeah, please, get the bowl and the bottle away from him. Wait, Richard, no, what are you doing? That is not for you either. I don't care if you brought your own straw. That candy is for the Queen. You could be beheaded for this.

"Off with his head!" Uh-oh. The Queen's Speech is Slurry™.

Where is Nick? Seriously? He's asleep in the clawfoot tub? What do you mean there's water flowing under the locked door? Water? Onto the hardwoods? Fuck. Dennis is not going to be happy. He may dock Utah's   pay to cover this.

Dave! Thank you for crawling out from beneath the mid-century modern hide-a-bed. Oh, and who is the brunette? Wait a minute. I'd recognize those Jumblies™ anywhere. Why does your breath smell like Applebees? You say you were just fusing? What the hell does that mean, fusing? Becoming Davery™...

"Off with their heads!"

Oh thank Godlings™. MG. Man, Martin, I am glad you're finally here, we're gonna need some wickedassvoodoo to get this mess under control. Just look at these guys. Yes, well I am  aware that Richard's thumbs are bleeding. But that is the least of our problems. What's that you say? Do I want some Asteroid Dust? Uh, well, uh yeah. Wait. No. Turn your pornshirt off and give me a hand. And by the way, what the fuck happened to your hair? You shaved your head? The Godlings told you to? Oh my...

"Off with his hair! I mean head!"

Van Horn, stop humping the couch. What? Your looking for your keys? Well, I don't think they are in Nikki's Purse. And besides, if Randy and Bob catch you doing that, they are going to limphorn lash your Van Horn ass.

"Off with his head!"

Has anyone seen Moon? What do you mean he got arrested again? He's going to the Big House this time? Oh no. What's that you say Utah? He shoulda went to rehab? I am not so sure about that. I bet he'll have more time to write in prison. What's that you say Hoppy? You want to go to prison with Moon because both of you've already signed a multi-million dollar contract that stipulates that you co-write the novel behind bars? I suppose that has a nice ring to it. Not to mention the bonding in the shower room.

"Off with their heads!"

Bill, what are you doing on top of Liana? Oh, I see. The bracket had you on top of her, so after a few Gin and Juices and a few bowls of Special K, you two thought you might just create a museum-like rendition--a live performance piece--of that image. How did you two ever manage to get into that position. It hurts my Adam's apple just to look... Oh nevermind.

"Off with their heads!"

Oh, what do you know. Bexster is coming to. No, Bexster, I think you are taking the Queen thing too literally. I don't think you are actually going to be able to decapitate people at your every whim and desire.

“Off with your head!”

I am getting dizzy again. What Jessica? Oh. Yeah. Yes, I should put my head between my knees. But I tried that last time and something stiff keeps poking me in the Adam’s Apple. Oh, Mr. Guerra should be able to take care of that huh? Well, he is MIA. Oh wait, hey Pandrew Scott Guerra! Look, everyone, Pandademicaparamedical is back. We might need him to save the Queen.

"Off with his head!" 

Oh, man, I need a beer. Huh? What is that you say Cris?  Richard, Lisa and Liana shotgunned all the Lionshead last night? They were boilermaking with Maker’s before they tied Jason up and sliced off his nipples? Oh Richard, don’t blame it on Martin’s asteroid dust. You knew precisely what you were doing. We have an inkling the nipple slicing thing was all your idea. Bringing in the Sheaves my ass. Bringing in the teats more like it. We all saw you three put the nipples on Bexster’s forehead while she was passed out on the puzzle table with gooey jigsaw pieces stuck to her genitals.

“Off with their heads!”

Godling damnit. So the fridge is empty. Except for this little cowboy figurine floating in Gin. Is this the same one that was reading haiku last night up on the podium before the The Queen's Slurry Speech™ ? What? No Clint, it wasn’t a hallucination. We all saw it. We all heard it. Yes, yes, that’s right, Kitts remembers. Ain’t that right Kitts?

Possessed by gremlins, hiccup,
I will eat all your hard work, hiccup,
Want to roll the bones? Hiccup.

Yes! See? Kitts heard it too! What Kitts? No, I haven’t seen your liver. Have you checked the freezer? We recall Nick and you in an ice−filled clawfoot tub. At first we all thought you two were ice-cube wrestling. Then you both announced you were actually performing a surgical procedure. Removing your liver so you could take a closer look. We were all wondering if this procedure was always executed in the nude.

Dr. Nicholas Karl Wilczynski™  said it was important for both Doctor and patient to be naked together. This facilitated crucial bonding. Crucial fusing. Once you two extracted the charcoaled organ, you poured some bleach on it to brighten it up and threw it in the dryer with a fabric softener. But you said it was really warm when it came out and that you were going to throw it in the freezer to let it chill. But when The Queen requested pâté for a late-night drunken snack, Fritz Wolfe grabbed the heavily-pickled slab from the freezer and puréed it in the ballroom blender, concocting a marvelous Klitterpation™ of flavor. He even incorporated some cornichon and spread the delectation out on a shaft of fresh baguette. What did you keep saying it was Fritz? Oh, yes, that is right, Fritz Fries™. 

"Off with his head!"

Well, at least the Wedding was pleasant. What do you mean you don't remember getting married Klitts™?

You don’t remember anything? My Godlings, what do you mean, to who. We we’re all here in the Royal WAR Party Palace rolling in gooey puzzle pieces when you said “I do.” Even Voodem was there for Godlings’ sake. Flew all the way up from downundah! And she brought Voodem donuts! Remember, she kept yelling “The magic is in the hole! The magic is in the whole!” And Randy and Bob got all excited and started prancing around. And everyone was slipping donuts onto their horns, which had gone from limp to stiff in all the excitement. Tell Klitts™ who he married. That is right Klitts™, you married the lovely and demure, Profunda Fist Kitten. What? No Klitts™, you did not marry Meat Seeker™. That was a made up name. Did you really think someone would name their child Meat?

Right Voodem? Damn, nice accent, right you guys? She has the hottest downundah accent. It rivals Clint’s and Richard’s and Martin’s and Jessica’s, I mean the now fused daveries™. It is just about as hot as Closure’s. Well Closure has that hot video on Cris’s sound bytes that makes you want to byte him. So, I suppose, until she gives us a byte, we won’t know exactly how hot her down under lips are.

Dakota! No more Special K! Richard! Lisa! Don’t indulge the boy! He is young enough to be your daughter!

“Off with their heads!”

Someone attend to her majesty for Godling’s sake. Pick those pieces off of her and put them back into their boxes…the clowns have all gone to bed, you can hear happiness staggering on down the street footprints dressed in red and the wind cries Nikki…Nikki.

Oh, sorry, I was having another Wordstock flashback. No,  Dakota, you didn’t tell anyone that the puzzle pieces were laced with acid. Oh? It was only the pieces from the puzzle of dapper young Stalin? But that is the one everybody couldn’t resist eating or putting down their shorts. The one that begs for holes. For orifices.

"Off with his head!"

For Godling’s sake, the Queen practically overdosed on those trying to put them into her other mouth. Yes, I know Dakota, acid can absorb through any set of lips, regardless of which part of the body those lips find themselves.

Hey look everybody, David Shepherd, Renfield and Joseph Fucking Day are here to save the Day!

What? What do you guys mean? Oh, all the heads? Yeah, that was the Queen's idea. Her wish is my command. Hey you guys should really try some of these Stalin leftovers and Fritz Fries™. Oh, yeah, the pieces are kinda gooey, that is the sauce. Oh, no, don't pluck them from the Queen's genitals!

"Off with their heads!"