“The Witch of Duh”

Going to bed early, coffee, masturbation; Ted had tried all but he still had trouble getting up in the morning. The only thing that seemed to work at all was a hot shower. As he soaped up, he thought that he would rather stay in the shower all day and be pruny than go to work. The problem, he told himself for the umpteenth time, is that I really have no reason to get up in the morning. He hated his job, all his friends were online, and the last woman he had asked out had actually laughed.

Putting the bar of soap down he grabbed his gut with both hands. Maybe if I got rid of this?

Ted sighed and rinsed off. Stepping out of the shower, his foot slipped and he fell, hitting his head on the toilet.

He awoke in a small clearing in a forest that was so green his eyes hurt. But he was not alone. Before him stood a very short, young woman with a runny nose, a man standing stiffly, and a monkey picking its ass. “Who are you?” Ted asked.

In a voice far deeper than anyone her size should have, the young woman said, “I’m Darth.”

The Stiff Man replied only with, “I have the need to eat pizza.”

But most surprisingly, the monkey stopped picking its ass and held out its hand. “My name is James Mason.”

Ted did not take the offered hand but asked, “What are you all doing here?”

“We’re off to see The Witch of Duh.”

“The Witch of Duh?”

“Yes,” James said. “We all have problems and we hope the Witch can help us.”

“What problems do you have?” Ted asked.

“I don’t know how to spell.”

“I have a need to eat pizza.”

“And I,” James finished, “need a new comedy act. My current one sucks.”

Ted was surprised that a talking monkey would need a comedy act. “What’s your current act?” he asked.

“Well, I start by drinking my own piss, then I finish by throwing my feces at people. Here, I’ll demonstrate.”

James started to reach behind him, but Ted stopped him, “No, no. It’s okay, I get the picture.”

“Do you have any problems?” Darth asked.

“Well,” Ted thought for a few seconds, “I guess I don’t have a reason to get up in the morning.”

“You should come with us then,” James said. “I’m sure the Witch can help you.”

“I have a need to eat pizza.”

“Don’t mind him,” Darth said pointing at the Stiff Man. “That’s the only thing he ever says.”

“Isn’t that right,” James asked, slapping the Stiff Man’s knee.

“I have a need to eat pizza.”

“See.” James then leaped up to a low branch of a nearby tree so he was more at eye-level with Ted. “Before you agree to come with us, you must know that the journey is fraught with peril.”

“Such as?”

“Ducks,” Darth started.

“Deranged cats,” James continued.

“Flying Ps.”

“OD nuts.”

“Gay robots.”

“Flocks of wild mullets.”

“I have a need to eat pizza.”

Pointing at the Stiff Man Darth said, “Putting up with this pizza moron.”

“Half-naked women.” Everyone looked at James. “Okay, that really isn’t a peril, but it could delay us. Oh, and beware the horse.”

“Horse? What horse?”

“The F-ed up one,” the rest answered, although the Stiff Man’s reply sounded like, “I have a need to eat pizza.”

Ted took a deep breath. “I don’t think I have much of a choice. How do we find this Witch of Duh?”

Pointing at the ground, Darth said, “We just have to follow the hardwood floor.”

Ted looked down and saw that what he had thought was a forest clearing was indeed a hardwood floor. Looking up he saw that the other three had linked arms. James held his out for Ted to link up, but instead Ted took a few steps and linked his arm with Darth.

The others began singing, “Follow the hardwood floor, follow the hard … we’re there.”

“What? Already” Ted was amazed that in two steps they had left the forest and were now standing in an ornate palace.

“It’s a hardwood floor, not a hardwood road.” Rolling his eyes James said – just loud enough for all to hear – “Geez, even I could figure that out and I’m a monkey.”

Ted did not pay any attention to James for he was gazing around the room. It was unbelievably large; he could barely make out the walls and ceiling. Countless, larger than life marble statues of nude men and women were scattered throughout the immense space. And the people. Thousands of every description milled around between the statues. Ted was amazed to see men dressed only in rags talking and laughing with women wearing lavish gowns.

And at the center of it all, was the most stunning woman Ted had ever seen. Her gown was the most lavish of all; blinding in its pure whiteness. She sat upon a massive throne raised above the floor. Chained below her was a small man with a wide idiot’s grin dressed as a jester, and behind her – on a tall perch – sat a grumpy looking owl who made annoying screeches at random times.

Ted grew dizzy trying to take it all in. He had not noticed, but Darth had walked up to the throne.

“And what may I do for you?” the Witch asked in a voice so smooth Ted thought he would slip on it.

“I need to learn how to spell,” Darth replied.

The Witch smiled. “My dear, you are a young, attractive woman. You don’t need to know how to spell. You can get men to do all your spelling for you.”

For a few seconds Darth just stood blinking. Then her eyes grew wide. “Really?”

“Of course. Oh, and a few lozenges probably wouldn’t hurt either.”

The wonder in Darth’s face gave way to confusion. “What for?”

But the Witch had turned to her next petitioner. “And what may I do for you?”

The Stiff Man had taken Darth’s place. “I have a need to eat pizza.”

The Witch smiled. “My silly boy, you can find hundreds of pizza places in your local yellow pages.”

After a few seconds the Stiff Man simply said, “Oh.” He then turned and walked away, all the stiffness in his body gone. He passed Darth who asked him, “Why do I need lozenges?”

“And what may I do for you?” the Witch asked James.

“I need a new comedy act. Right now I drink my own piss and fling feces at people, but I’m having a hard time getting bookings.”

The Witch gave a short, tinkling laugh. “My silly little monkey, drinking your own piss and flinging your feces at people is not comedy … it’s performance art.”

“Really?” After a few seconds his face lit up. “Those yuppie bastards won’t know what hit them.” James turned and walked away, cackling gleefully.

“And what may I do for you?”

It took Ted a moment to realize the Witch was talking to him. He took a few steps forward. “Um, hi,” he said with a little wave. “I guess I just need some reason to get up in the morning.”

The Witch frowned, causing the surrounding multitude to gasp and begin murmuring amongst themselves.

“This is a more complex problem. You must pass a test before I will be able to help you.”

Now it was Ted’s turn to frown. “What kind of test?”

From beneath her gown came the Witch’s slender foot. “You must suck my toes.” Again, the crowd gasped.

Ted looked at her foot with mild disgust. He had done some weird things in his past, but he had to draw the line somewhere. “I’m sorry for wasting your time,” he said, and turned to leave.

“Wait,” the Witch cried behind him. Turning back he saw she was smiling. “You have passed the test.”

The crowd exploded in applause, and it was some moments before Ted could make himself heard. “What? How?”

“If you had sucked my toes,” the Witch told him, “I would have known that you were unworthy of beholding my perfection.”

As the Witch slowly stood up from her throne Ted heard, as if from someone had shouted it from a great distance, “I’m bringing chubby back.” He then felt an intense pain coursing through his body.

Ted opened his eyes and saw his bathroom ceiling, and the face of some man he had never seen before leaning over him. The man shone a little flashlight in Ted’s eyes, and asked, “Sir, do you know what happened to you?”

Ted licked his lips and slowly said, “All I did was get out of the shower.”

Here are some links to begin to explain this story.

“Beetis”

The tiny kingdom of Meemur was a quite, prosperous land. Life flourished from the horse farms of the Hubba-Hubba Valley, to the deep Gadzooks mines in the cold Romano Peaks. And the people were happy, although being drunk most of the time probably had more to do with it than their general lot in life. Then, the darkness came.

From the depths of the Hoot Toot Forest came strange noises, like the cries and calls of a hideous beast. Those who ventured in never returned with their tales of adventure.

With no truth to pin them down, wild rumors began to fly. Herds of Spider Bison, Goosezilla, even stories of a long-haired hippie type crashing around in a forklift; all were put forward to explain the sounds, and fear of these and other imagined creatures spread across the kingdom.

As the months passed and the tales grew more horrid and bizarre, the crown grew heavier upon the brow of King Preston. The crazed antics of his jesters, such as shaving their heads and imitating owls, failed to cheer him. His Queen – a rather ugly woman named Steve – had no more success when she got liquored up and said she’d do anal. All King Preston could do was shake his head and moan, “We have a need for a hero.”

One rainy morning, a lone, heavyset man riding a nanny goat entered the kingdom. Upon reaching the castle he browbeat the servants until he was shown in to the Great Hall where King Preston sat on his throne, not even watching as his jesters shot each other in the ass with blunted arrows.

It was several moments before the King noticed the stranger. “Who are you?” he finally asked.

The stranger drew his sword, held it aloft, and shouted, “I…am…Beetis!”

The King looked at his Queen, then back to the stranger. “Why the hell do you scream like that?”

“Well,” the stranger shrugged. “If I just said, ‘my name is Beetis,’ who cares? But if I go,” again he raised his sword and shouted, “I…am…Beetis!” Lowering his sword he continued in his normal voice, “that is far more dramatic, and far more memorable.”

“And far more annoying,” the King said. “What do you want?”

“I hear you have a monster tormenting your kingdom.”

The King perked up. Leaning forward he asked, “Have you come to kill our monster?”

Swelling his chest Beetis replied, “I have.”

Having seen too many suicidal fools already, King Preston sat back and asked, “And what experience do you have in fighting monsters?”

Beetis sheathed his sword and rolled up his left sleeve, revealing a long, ragged scar on his forearm. “I received this – and other scars modesty prevents me from showing – fighting the mighty Dwhale of Humlet.” Rolling his sleeve down, Beetis continued his story. “I thought it would be an easy task to walk up to it and slay it since it had China eyes, but it caught me in its mighty rantlers and threw me into the trunk of an oak. Fortunately, since I am such a massive man, the impact cracked the trunk and it fell upon and smote the Dwhale.”

Queen Steve applauded and the jesters seemed impressed by the tale. King Preston rolled his eyes, but before he could comment, another stranger wearing a brown uniform entered. He carried a box and a clipboard. He looked around, read the clipboard, and said, “I have a package for a Mister Beetis.”

Beetis drew his sword, raised it high, and began, “I…”

“You want the fool with the sword,” King Preston interrupted him.

Beetis looked shocked but sheathed his sword and signed for the package.

“What is that?” King Preston asked.

“These are my tracking supplies, to help me find the monster,” Beetis answered.

“You don’t need to track it,” King Preston shouted. “Just go stand in the forest and it will come to you.”

“Oh.” Beetis dropped the box and something was heard to shatter.

King Preston paused to take a deep breath and let it out his nose. “If you manage to slay this monster, you could have anything from my kingdom you want. You could even have a fortnight with my Queen.”

Queen Steve looked shocked at the suggestion, but gave Beetis a wink.

The brave hero turned slightly green. “That is most gracious, your Highness, but a hero survives on the tales of their exploits alone.”

King Preston nodded. “Even better. Now, be gone.”

A short time later Beetis stood in the dark Hoot Toot Forest listening to the gentle boodly boodly boodly boodly of the McCartney birds. For hours he paced, flexing his muscles and running his sword though non-existent monsters. He was so caught up in his imaginary duels that he did not notice when the McCartney birds stopped boodling.

A snapped twig made him turn and see a small, foul, fearsome creature standing only twenty feet from him. The creature snarled and rushed at him. Beetis raised his sword but before he could deliver a killing blow he heard a woman’s voice shout, “What are you doing?”

The creature dropped to the ground and tried to burrow into it.

“I can still see you, Marisa,” the woman’s voice said.

At this the creature stood and was revealed to be only a young girl. Looking at the ground she said, “I’m only playing. I’m Marisasaurous.” She then gave a half-hearted growl along with a swipe of her pretend claws.

The owner of the voice stepped out from behind some bushes and was revealed to be a stunningly beautiful, nude, woman who had a long tail that was constantly flexing behind her. “And what kind of man,” she asked Beetis, “pulls a sword on a child?”

It took several heartbeats for her question to register in Beetis’ mind, as he was so engrossed by her tail. But he finally shook himself and said, “A child? You mean the fearsome monster that has been tormenting this kingdom is only a child?”

“Er,” the woman stopped and her eyes flicked to the left and right, before she slowly answered, “Yeah.” The woman then walked up to the child and mussed her hair, making the girl frown. “This is my daughter Marisa. She’s going through the terrible twos.”

“I see.”

“And who are you?” The woman’s head and tail snapped towards Beetis.

“I’m Beetis.” Realizing the dramatic moment had passed, he sheathed his sword. “Who are you?”

“My name is not important. But we are phishetarians, shunned by normal people and forced to live in these forsaken woods.”

Beetis nodded and took several steps towards the two. “I was sent by King Preston to rid his kingdom of a horrid monster causing havoc. If he were to know the true situation, I’m sure he would help you.”

“King Preston, did you say?” The woman smiled showing her teeth and gave a little laugh. “Yes, he will help. Take me to him.”

Upon reaching the castle, Beetis, the mother, and daughter had little difficulty getting through the rings of flunkies surrounding the King; they were too stunned by the woman’s beauty and her tail to put up any resistance.

When they entered the Great Hall, King Preston looked up from the floor and scoffed. “Have you defeated the monster already, hero?”

“In a manner of speaking, yes,” Beetis replied. He then stepped aside and the woman strode forward. “Hello, King Preston. Or should I say, Kenny.”

The King flew back in his throne as if he had been struck. “What?”

“It was almost three years ago we met at an Amy Grant concert. You told me your name was Kenny, but it’s hard to hide the fact you’re a King when you don’t take your crown off. Even if that’s the only thing you’re wearing.”

Queen Steve gasped, turned and struck King Preston on the shoulder. “You swore you were faithful.”

“I … I … I’ve never been with a woman with a tail,” the King finally managed to say. “I would remember that.”

The woman lowered her tail, blushed and admitted, “I tucked.”

King Preston stood up, in part to look more regal but also to get away from his wife, and asked, “Okay, so we had a thing one night three years ago. Why have you come here, now?”

“So you can meet your daughter.” The woman turned and pulled Marisa around until she stood in front of her. Placing her hands upon her daughter’s shoulders, the woman smiled and said, “Yes, King Preston, you are the father.”

A profound silence filled the hall until it was broken by the sound of King Preston running away.

King Preston never returned to his kingdom, and there are reports of him living under an assumed name only a few kingdoms over. But others claim he became the drummer of the hit band, Eighteen Foreskins.

With the heartbreak of being left by her husband, Queen Steve became depressed and ended up doing a great deal of soul searching. It was during this that she discovered much to her surprise – but not to anybody else’s – that she was a man trapped inside a woman’s body. Shortly after the gender reassignment surgery, he joined a popular morning bell tower show. Each morning he and his compatriots would climb the highest bell tower in the land and shout down to the people below, sprinkling jokes and humorous stories between the news, traffic and weather.

Marisa – as heir to the kingdom – lived in the castle and was not above getting shot in the ass with blunted arrows like the jesters, much to her mother’s disapproval. Her mother ruled as regent and the plight of the phishetarians was easily solved, since Marisa and her mother were the only two. And Beetis quit the hero business and stayed at the castle with the mother, for it turned out he had a thing for tails.

Here are some links to begin to explain this story.