JOHNNY X PUPA SPEAKS
   
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JOHNNY PUPA
THE NOVEL
Author: Chad Kultgen
Well, ladies and gentlemen, I would like to begin this little foray into the mind of one of the greatest men to have ever lived by saying a few words. The events that lay before you in this document will unfold themselves before you in a manner unlike anything you have ever witnessed. The story of Johnny Pupa is one that can only be told in a certain style and with a certain turning of a phrase. This, ladies and gentlemen, is that story. So sit back, light your fire, and prepare yourselves for the next great American novel straight from my lips to your ears. Enjoy.

PROLOGUE
I guess the best place to start is in the beginning. The day Johnny
Pupa came into this world, the heavens shook and the Earth shuddered, for they both knew that a man unlike any other had taken his first breath. Allow me to take you into the vault of time and journey back to the fateful day when the little sperm that burrowed its way into an egg had grown into something ripe for the plucking. Nay, let me take you back to the day when Pupa was conceived and then I will take you to the day when he was born.
Sandra M. Klaus was a pretty little girl in her nineteenth year of life. The world was her oyster and she hadn't a cloud in her sky. Until, she met a man by the name of Claudius Ramport. Claudius was a great piece of man meat that knew what he wanted and what he wanted took its form in the shape of Sandra M. Klaus's firm and round buttocks. On the beach, by the silver sand of the sea, Claudius cornered Sandra and said these words, "Lay down on the ground, I am going to fertilize you."
Now Sandra was young, but she was wise beyond her years. She looked old Claudius right in the eye and said, "I'll lay down, but the only fertilizing you're going to be doing in the kind that involves a plank of wood and a loose scrotum."
Well, scruffy Claudius scratched his chin and looked into the sky. "Ha, ha, ha," he bellowed, "You are a feisty little woman and I will take great pleasure in laying you down here in the dirty sand and making even dirtier coitus with you, you crazy receptacle."
No sooner than the words fell from Claudius' giant lips did little
Sandra throw him to the ground and begin grinding around on his crotch with her own. The friction of the grinding was so much, that soon, both of their garments had been burned through in the crotch until their bare genitals were exposed and touching one another. Of course, little penis and big bajina looked at each other with longing eyes and they kissed. A small bag of sperm was deposited in the cave of life and the bag was opened by the little demons who live in the cave. From the bag, sperms flew out and found the egg.
The egg tried to fight its way out of that slew of sperms, but being female, the egg, at last, opted to allow itself to be controlled by the male pursuers. So the egg was ruptured and the little white guys went in there and ate everything in sight until the only thing left was a little tiny baby.
The baby grew for nine months and in those nine months a lot of shit happened. Basically all the shit that happened led to this: Claudius could only find sexual gratification by killing himself so he died. Sandra was rushed to the hospital after a so called self induced labor which actually consisted of her hitting herself in the womb until the child within made the decision to come out.
So now we come full circle to the hospital. Wait a minute, you say, how is that full circle? The story started on the beach, now we're in a hospital. No circle has been completed in this narrative you son of a bitch. Number one never call me a son of a bitch again, and number two, you are the dumb son of bitch because, get this, the beach was actually a hospital so we have, in deed, come full circle and you have been duped. Now listen to the rest of the tale as it unfolds before you like so much stinking labia.
In the hospital, Sandra was rushed into the emergency room, for two reasons: 1. She was in labor and the child was on its way, and 2. She was hemorrhaging from the ass whipping she delivered to her own placenta.
The doctors tried everything they could think of to stop the bleeding but shit looked bad. This one doctor threw himself on top of her and screamed, "I can stop the bleeding if you will only allow me to use my special technique!" The other doctors had tried everything so they agreed to let this mysterious doctor use his special tongs. So this doctor pulled out a pair of tongs and proclaimed, "I received these tongs from Christ himself and there is nothing they can't fix!" He rammed those tongs up in her hole and low and behold, two things happened: 1. The bleeding didn't stop, but it changed. The blood became gold and everyone was rich, and 2. Johnny pupa was born. The tongs had reached straight into young Johnny's heart and told him to come on out, the people outside weren't demons like he thought, no they were friends. The tongs had such a gentle and loving voice that he believed them and he did come right on out of that old dirty womb.
The light was very bright and insane in his little crazy eyes. He looked around to see people of all nationalities and genders staring at him. He began to cry, no it wasn't crying really, I guess it was more like speaking. Yes, he began to speak such beautiful words that everyone in the room offered him their portion of the gold vaginal fluid. He was flattered but he could not accept such an expensive gift from these people he barely knew. Upon refusal of the gifts, Pupa said, "Thank you very much for your consideration and generosity, but I am a humble man and need only a dry place to sleep and the teat of my birth mother for suckling."
With this said, the doctors began to scramble around and find him a nice place to sleep on a bed of hay. Then the doctors clambered about until they had pulled Sandra's teat out of her gown and had placed it in the mouth of this beautiful child. No one whimpered.
For many days, the mother and child were allowed to live in sin there amongst the hospital walls. No one was the wiser. Then, one horrifying day, the seventh day of the happy couple's stay in the glorious hospital, three men came. They announced themselves as, the FBI, and they began to ask questions. Questions like, "Who are you?" "Why have you disturbed this tiny American town?" "When will you leave?"
To all of these questions, the small Pupa had only one answer, "I am weak and I need my rest." The FBI triad had come very far to seek answers for their questions and they needed not the games that Pupa would have them play. However, nothing is as irrational and horrifying as disturbing a child when he or she is in the process of suckling or cleaning himself or herself, so the FBI merchants of ill dispersed into the forest never to be seen again. Pupa was left to suckle his mother's teat like no man's business and in only a few weeks he was strong enough to leave the nest created by the good doctors. Sandra, on the other hand, was not strong at all. No, in fact, she was a withered husk of flesh pronounced dead by the county mortician at 5:46 PM. It seemed that little Johnny Pupa had done a little too much suckling and he drained his loving mother of her life force. He felt no grief though. Why should he for Christ's sake? He was only doing what he thought was natural, he had no one to tell him any different and his mother's final moment in life was lived doing what she loved to do, suckle her little man.
The final second of her life was an experience that anyone would deem worthy of being a final second. Little Pupa had become strong in his powers of suction and he gave a suck that was stronger than any other previous suck to date. The suck beckoned forth suck an amount of milk that Sandra's nipple would have liked to explode and the stretching of the nipple hole was such a great experience and tactile sensation that
Sandra's mind exploded in a riotous orgasm of pleasure and filth. She died happy and that's truly all any mother wants or has the right to ask for.
So, like the later day hobo, after his mother's death, Johnny Pupa, less than two weeks old, donned a red makeshift pouch tied to a stick and took off for the open tracks. This is where the story begins ladies and gentlemen. This is where history begins.
So now that the prologue is over, you can put the book down, unzip your pants, lean your chair back, and reflect on the words I have told you. Take the story thus far into your heart and make it a part of you. Try to imagine what it must have felt like to be Sandra on that first day when she met Claudius. She must have been so happy to finally know the pleasures of womanhood and to know what its like to feel something that is kind of shaped like a stick go into her cervix. Then try to think what it was like for Claudius. He thought he was just penetrating another girl down in the hospital, but no this one was different. Can you imagine what it must have been like for him the next day when he woke up and found that his sexual drive had turned, instead, into a desire to skewer himself through the belly button with a broken anal thermometer. Ho, ho, ho, that would be a day no single person would have the grace to soon forget.
Then try to put yourself in the place of those zany doctors, especially the one with the tongs of Christ. He was wacky indeed. I think though, no one can put themselves in the place of the scared and loving little boy named Johnny Pupa. His pain and suffering must have been great, but it gets even better. So here we go into the main part of the story. Zip those pants back up, pick up your book, and get ready to hear a tale that will make you want to cry and cry.

CHAPTER 1
THE OPEN ROAD

Johnny Pupa had problems just like the rest of us. The second he took his third step away from the hospital he ran into his first problem: obesity. Millions of children in America suffer from this shit ever day and Johnny Pupa was no exception. It happened something like this: Step one, step two, step three, corpulence.
Its true, Johnny looked like a little snowman, save the fact that his round body was not made of delightful snow, but instead of paunchy flesh so repulsive the sun refused to shine on him. Pupa tried everything imaginable to rid himself of the surplus flesh and fat globules that formed a thick and unmanageable layer of atrocity around his young self. No luck though. His fat clung to him like flies on shit and his life became miserable.
Johnny, had journeyed far from the hospital and he had finally found his way to the railroad tracks that stretched as far as the eye could see. He knew in his heart of hearts, that these tracks could take him away from his fat. The open land, the wind blowing through his hair, and the sparse diet of an American hobo would prove worthy combatants for his ripe stomach in the arena of physical nutrition.
Pupa sat down next to tracks and decided to wait for the next train to come by. When it did, he would jump onto that great and lumbering steel beast and ride it like his mother had ridden Claudius so many months ago. Pupa unwrapped his hobo knapsack and viewed the contents of his travel pack, which the kind doctors had been good enough to prepare for him before he left.
It seemed that the kind doctors weren't kind at all, but rather, insane and evil. The bag was filled with notes. I will not give you the boring details of what each note had printed upon it, but I will give you some of the highlights.
- Johnny Pupa, I hate you. -
- Johnny Pupa, if you die I will not come to your funeral. -
- I will, so I can piss on your grave. -
- You're mom may be dead but she still gives great head. -
Little Johnny didn't know how to react. At first he wanted to cry, as most children would, but then something grew within him, something that he had never known before. A deep burning pain in his heart. He decided to call this pain HATRED. With Johnny Pupa, hatred was different than it is for most people. With him, there was a physical manifestation of his anger and rage and he decided to give that a name as well. He called it an ERECTION.
Johnny tore the notes up and threw them into the heavens. Christ found the notes on the ground and when he read them, he also felt a strange sensation in his heart, and he vowed that he too had this magical sensation called HATRED in him and he too had this magical physical manifestation called and ERECTION betwixt his legs.
The sun was setting and with it, Pupa's rage. He had calmed down a bit. The notes had been thrown into Heaven so they would never be seen again and Pupa had time to think. He stared at the sky and watched it as it turned from blue to pink to black. He thought of the people he had seen in the hospital who were black. He thought of his hunger and how it hadn't been satiated in over a day's time. He thought of those malicious doctors and their cruel joke.
His hunger grew and grew through the night and by 7:48 PM, he was rendered unconscious by his own putrid hunger. When he woke the next morning he met his first "friend."
Pupa blinked and saw before him in the glorious rays of the morning sun a small man, maybe not a man at all. "My name is Franklin, by the looks of you, you must be a traveler like me," said the small and strangely made man. He had over his shoulder, a similar looking red bundle tied to a stick. A hobo too? You bet. Pupa opened his mouth to speak and felt the disgusting stringy and sticky mixture of plaque and semi-congealed saliva that had worked itself into a thick paste over night. He wanted to vomit but held it in. No sense in wasting nutrients.
To remedy his oral grief, he grabbed a handful of grass and thrust it into his mouth. He chewed the weeds and moved them around in his mouth until they absorbed every last piece of foul smelling mouth shit and then he spat the ball of grass and mouth shit out on the ground before the smaller version of him.
"My name is Johnny Pupa, I am seeking adventure and a new life on the open road," Johnny smiled. As he smiled, he noticed something, this small man was not only a small man, he was what most people like to call a midget.
Franklin smiled right back with his stubby little face and offered, "Before we go on this journey, we should return to my house where we can dine on pies and lemonade. We can rest one more night in the house and gain our strength before setting out for adventure. And through this action, perhaps we can strike up a friendship that will be written in the books of time. What do you say?"
"Yes."
With that, Johnny and Franklin made their way back to a small cottage in the forest, the House of Franklin. Franklin bade Johnny come into the parlor where they would be served. Johnny sat in a chair made for a midget and broke it with his huge fat sack. Franklin only laughed and said, "It's okay, I am a midget and you may be a fat piece of shit, but
I am a freak and I will have to settle for any friend I can get." With these words uttered, Johnny knew that he had found a great and beautiful friend in small Franklin.
As they sat there waiting to be served, Johnny smelled the air. Something smelled familiar. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but he knew that smell. Then everything became quite, quite clear as Franklin's mother came into the room with a tray of pies and lemonade. Johnny had smelled the scent of mother and he realized that he missed his own blessed mother who he killed so many days ago.
Johnny broke down in tears and unleashed his whole life story on his new friend and his mother. At first, Franklin's mother laughed at the fat sack of shit and poked his fat jowls, but then she calmed down and realized that she had a job to do. She set the pies and lemonade down on the table and retreated into her "private room" where the sounds of porno and laughter could be heard.
Franklin and Johnny were left alone and Franklin knew just the right things to say to console his portly buddy. "Listen up man, you may have killed your mom, but we are about to start a new life. We are going to go on the open road and find adventure and love on the train tracks of America. No one can stop us now, least of all your dead mother."
The friends threw their heads back and laughed their little and big asses off. They both knew that their journey was about to begin and everything was looking up.
Just then, when the spirits of these two freakish buddies were soaring something occurred to bring them crashing to the ground. Small
Franklin's mother emerged from her conclave and began this speech, "So it appears that you young fellows are planning a trip together eh? Well let me assure you of one small thing, you will be labeled homos by the public at large because you are two men travelling together and it will just be assumed that you put your peckers in one another."
At that, Franklin hit his breaking point. His small and stubby limbs grew taught with excitement and he began to itch all over. He thought back to the first day of camp when all the kids had called him "little termite" and they had put itching powder in his soup. Those kids were bastards and now the same bastards were manifesting themselves in the pulmonary arteries of his very own birth cave. Franklin stood proud and tall and he said this, "I will show you who's the faggot!"
Franklin ran to his mother and bent her over at the waist. He hiked up her skirt and plunged into her with his twisted root. He orated once again, "Let each thrust remind you of the day you told me that I was gay, and these same thrusts also remind you of the day that I left never to return, never to know your tormenting ways again. For it can truly be noted, kind mother, that you are an amazing whore of a bitch and I have fallen into hate with you. Now rot in hell."
Franklin did just as he had said he would. He plunged into her again and again until nothing was left but the crazy look in her eye and the pain in her heart.
Where, you might be wondering was our lovely hero during all of this. I would like to tell you that he was in the corner stroking his long rod with his paws, but I will not lie to you. I will only state the actuality of the events that took place so many years ago in the bleak and fun history of the life of Johnny Pupa. Johnny was sitting in the same chair he sat in earlier. He really didn't even pay much attention to his new friend and his new friend's mother and the anti-sanitary sludge they were creating with their genitalia. No, instead he ate his pie and drank his lemonade and wondered if the lemonade was actually lemonade or if it was urine from the woman who was being raped/loved by her own son/attacker. He really didn't care though. Drink was drink and thirst must always be quenched.
Franklin finished up and put a burlap sack over his dead mother's face. He drew a blind contour of Sammy Davis junior on the bag and wrote a little note saying this:
- Nothin' doin' -
He looked over to his new fat friend and said, "Now we have to get going. We have wasted enough horrifying time in this house of violation.
We should be on the open road where we will meet great people of America whose spirits are like ours. What do you say, ole' pal?"
Johnny took the last piece of pie into his mouth as though it were the holy Eucharist given to him by Christ himself and he said, " Yes, yes I will go with you on this journey, and yes I am ready. Let us begin to be the greatest American hobos of all time."
Here's the really funny part though. All that time, no one had ever even heard a song by Sammy Davis Junior.
Franklin kicked his mother in the head as he left the house. He smoothed out his lapels and looked down into the makeshift face of the black Jewish entertainer one final time and he exhaled. The house was cold and dead and nothing was left for him. Time to go.
Johnny, made his way into the kitchen and found several delightful pies and pastries to hold his interest. It was time to go though and the only thing he felt he could legally do was pack all of the pastries and pies and cakes and little items into a suitcase that he found in another room and be on his way. The suitcase had some weird words printed on the
side, they said:
- douche bag -
Little Pupa thought this was kind of weird, but it was a free bag and free food so he didn't inquire as to the meaning of the words. Besides, the woman who might be able to tell him what the crazy language meant was now covered with burlap hosiery that left her unable to communicate.
The two friends locked arms and stood there in the bough of the front doorway. They looked into the horizon and took a deep breath. Franklin looked deeply into the eyes of his partner and said, "You know what? I think we are going to make a great travelling pair. With my freakish size and your enormous fat, we will be the life of any hobo party and nothing can stop us. Let's be the greatest of friends and the best of travelers."
They set out toward the tracks where Johnny had first fallen asleep. Once again things were coming full cirlce and the sign of the circle has many meanings. The shape of many peoples anal sphincter is roughly circular. The opening of the birth canal is also roughly circular. Some might then argue that giving birth is similar to the act of defecating, and these same arguers would also say then, that humans are nothing more than feces. Ho, ho, ho, merry x-mas!

CHAPTER 2
THE TRACKS

Now every man has dreamed of the life of a modern day vagabond, a prince of the railways, eating hotdogs from cans and pulling insects from your anus. So too, Franklin and Johhny Pupa wanted nothing more than to experience the American dream and know what it was to be loved by the land and by the tracks and by the engineer and maybe by the train itself. As friends they decided to find out what love is and what it was and this is how it went.
Franklin and Johnny came to the tracks and looked up and down them, no train. They were basically in trouble. When someone's entire plan falls apart in the first few seconds of actually trying to enact it, it usually means that person is a Mongoloid, but in this case, it meant something different. One guy was a midget and one guy was a fat piece of shit, but there were no Mongoloids in the group. So this time it meant that the plan could not fail and looky there, a train did come.
This train was the most beautiful train in the seven kingdoms. No one could deny this fact. The train had a face like Mona Lisa and a pair of juggs that had no nipples but were round and firm none the less. This train was stacked.
"Come on, Johnny, we have to catch that beast," shouted Franklin above the roar of the magnificent bastard.
Franklin threw his bag into an open car and like a human flea he leapt into the car with the power of ten men. His leap was so fast it created a whirlwind that swept Johnny into the car as well. That was going to be a huge problem, getting Pupa into the train when he had to deal with all that extra shit hanging off his stomach, but goodly Franklin solved the problem with seemingly superhuman or demi-human powers of jumping.
From that day forward, Franklin was said to have the ability to become a flea and he called himself a flea occasionally in his later days. But, those days were sad days indeed, and they come later on in the story, so if you want to you can skip ahead and read about it, but my advice is to put the book down for a while and come back to it tomorrow. You can probably catch up on some plumbing or find a device in this spare time.
Franklin and Johnny found the car they jumped into to be very cozy. It wasn't cozy like most things are cozy, but it had a certain charm and elegance that neither of them had ever known in their lives. Franklin began to weep. "Oh Johnny," he sobbed, "I have finally done it. I am finally on the open road with my best friend and I have found a boxcar that is not inhabited by another boxcar willie and my life is so good.
Will you stroke me?"
Johnny could tell that his friend was going through some kind of "mental collapse" and he decided that the best thing to do would be to honor his friend's wish. So of course that fat son of a bitch went over to his little stunted friend and began a long soothing process of stroking him gently and softly so as to remind him of his days in the jungle.
The little gray man went to sleep like a lamb in the haystack and he was dreaming about Nat King Cole and everything else in a matter of seconds. Johnny was left to sit in the darkness alone and think about what he had done wrong.
He had made some massive mistakes in his life, but he was willing to make amends and he began to do something that he never had done before in his life. He clasped his fat hands together and prayed to Christ almighty to save him and all of his pudge and to show him the way.
Up in Heaven, Christ was busy having his stalk polished by the mouth of this angel with huge knockers. So he wasn't too keen on being interrupted. He continued to receive the most soothing oral encounter of his life and he let poor Johnny continue praying, thinking that he was actually being heard. Man, what a joker that Christ is. However, one area that Christ does not joke around about is ejaculation. He released the most beautiful and glorious stream of intoxicating viscous semen that has ever been manufactured in the glans penis/prostate/testis by man or god. That angel giggled to herself as the stuff went into her oral cavity and into her stomach. She thought to herself, maybe he thinks he's demeaning me by ejaculating into my mouth and throat, but no, he is the one who is demeaned. I will now be able to describe in perfect detail to all the other angels each twist and turn and horrifying not on his haggard rod. She threw back her head and laughed and laughed. Christ thought this was about as funny as the cellulite dimples on a woman's thighs so he hit her hard across the face with his member. "Ouch!" she said.
Johnny Pupa or "Fat Kong" slept that night in his boxcar with his eyes open. His retarded friend slept with them closed. Every one of them was asleep by 8:23 PM on the train that was going to take them to salvation.
Like all men and beasts alike, gorgeous tub, or Johnny his-self, partook in the world of dreams. Yes, that ancient American Indian landscape where fantasy meets reality and they battle in a year long struggle which results in something more like the act of cunnilingus than the actuality of warfare. Johnny entered this realm and this is what he saw:
A brilliant glowing sun oozed its setting remnants out onto the land before him causing the effect of shimmering water to paint the ground. Some small creatures moved about underfoot, too fast to be seen; too soft to be heard. Johnny looked up into the smoldering sky to watch it fade from tart pink to a black darker than death. From the black an image began to form. At first a pinpoint of light, then it grew closer; grew larger, until finally, it stood right before him. Jesus H. Christ nailed to a cross, no, The Cross, landed with a hard thud in front of Johnny, weary from his long journey thorough space. "Well, good friend," Christ said with a long tongue, "It seems that you are in need of my aid."
"Yes, I am in great need of any help you might be able to offer good Christ."
Christ tried to smile but the pain of being on The Cross was too much for him. So, instead he uttered the following words, "You may be a fat son of a bitch, but I am in kind of in love with you so I am going to help you out a lot. I am going to give you signs along the way that will let you know what decisions to make as you journey through this crazy thing called life."
Johnny smiled a pudgy kid's smile and said, "Thanks Jesus. I love you too. I will look for your signs."
Jesus then turned into a marmot and licked the side of his own head. He said, "I don't know but I been told, Eskimo pussy is mighty cold."
The great and glorious fat guy known as Johhny Pupa had a pair of eyes, and upon awakening from his most horrifying dream, they snapped open. His little pupils whip-panned over to see if Franklin was still there, if the boxcar was still there, if his hate/erection was still there and if anything was still there, or if all of this hocus pocus shit was just a dream, like Jesus H. Christ himself.
Pupa found that indeed, the boxcar was still there, and he was still in it. The little guy named Franklin slept soundly in an American pile of hay, just as the "Baby Jesus" did so many years ago in a little town known as Bethlehem. And yes, the hate/erection was strong, stronger than ever and nothing was going to stop him now.
Some tears did spring from the eyes of that guy called Johnny Pupa when he realized that none of his life had been a dream, but instead it had all been very, very real. He cried for joy, not for sorrow. His tears came because he just found out that in the very boxcar he had hitched a ride in, sat a huge refrigerator.
His big fat eyes looked over at the big fat box filled with grub that could last him whole the whole trip. Silently, his fleshy toes curled in his little shoes and he slithered over to the food in the cold box. As the door opened, Pupa sat in there on the wooden boards of the boxcar and wept some more. His pudgy eyes gazed upon a refrigerator filled with none other than his favorite, chocolate cakes. There must have been at least two and one half dozens of these magnificent pastries, for
 
here's more

, for he ate them all with glee and upon consuming so many luscious volumes of these things he did say this, "I have consumed two and one half dozens of lovely chocolate cakes."
Here comes the surprise of your life. The entire time Pupa was guzzling down those enormous amounts of slag, a dirty vagrant son of a bitch was hiding there in the hay watching his every move. The guy was laying there in wait, anticipating Johnny's every move and waiting for him to make one mistake. This guy is foul enough just from this description alone, but now allow me to let you get a gander at him.
His eyes were beady as shit, like a little rat or a little gnome. His flesh was made of soil, and his teeth were made of volcanic stone. His hair wasn't greasy really, more like it was made of congealed blood. Oh yeah, and here is the best thing about this guy, his legs were made from old sticks that he had taped together with industrial strength masking tape. What a card. For the sake of argument, let's call this guy, Lasiter.
Just as Johnny scarfed down the last piece of tangy cake, Lasiter popped his old dirty head out from under the hay and yelled, "Hee Hee Hee. I have tricked you again. I have watched you eat all of that chocolate cake and I have recorded your sin and your crime against humanity."
Johnny looked at him and wrinkled up his nose, "I have no idea what you are talking about kind sir. I merely happened upon these cakes and when I saw there was no one about to claim them, I ingested them with ferocity."
"Be that as it may," the old gay codger spat, "Those cakes were mine and you have stolen from me, now there is only one way you can pay me back."
By this time, the insane ranting of both men had disturbed Franklin the midget. He stood up to his full height and bellowed out these lines of dialogue, "Shut up. A man needs his sleep. But since you are both yelling, you might as well tell me what all the commotion is over."
Pupa was first to tell his side of the tale. He knelt down next to his buddy and sang, "I ate some cake and now this old bastard wants me to be punished for it even though I didn't know it was his in the first place. And, he sat there under the hay and watched me eat every last one of them without uttering a word."
Franklin scratched his chin, now thick with early morning dew. He looked to Lasiter.
"So, does the story my young and husky friend tells hold any water? What I mean to say is, can his fat lips ever speak the truth and if so, are they doing so at present?"
"Yes."
The old man called Lasiter was terse, but he was laconic. Franklin often times looked for no other quality in men. So he delivered his judgement.
"Old man, you are the winner. Fatty, although we are friends, you have done wrong and you must learn your lesson. Now prepare yourself."
Lasiter stepped forward on his strange legs and reached out a long tentacle toward Johnny. The fat gunner merely sat and stared in awe at the thing's hand/tentacle/limb.
Lasiter said, "As punishment you must now take this lighter from my hand and use it against yourself to cause harm."
Johnny Pupa showed his true hero's skin in this little thing. He snatched the lighter from that old son of a bitch's thing and he swore this credo, "I am afraid of no man or god, because fire is the gift of life. I can tame it just as I can tame any gift given to me from any of the four horsemen or the five oracles of the north. You, Lasiter, have chosen the wrong punishment indeed for me."
Johnny took the lighter and flicked the switch igniting the flame for all to see. He held it in front of Franklin as if to say, fire cannot harm me, but if I get it too close to you or your little nose, you could melt like wax. He swiped the flame past the face of Lasiter who gloated as the warmth danced over his lips. He finally stopped this mad dance of death and put the flame to his own head. First, the fiery death caught hold of his eyebrows and turned them into a thing of the past. Then, the fire jumped to his eyes where it went into his pupils and gave his eyes a "fiery" quality that women would later come to love. Then the old flame, with the lighter still attached jumped right down ole' Johnny's throat and was never heard from again.
Lasiter was appalled. He gnarled, "You have cheated me. you have not harmed yourself, you are immune to fire and its magical power."
Johnny retorted, "True enough old bitch. But now you will see my power of revenge."
Pupa turned around and shot from his duodenum a piece of fire big enough to catch some of the hay in the place on fire. The flames spread quickly and soon both Franklin and Johnny realized that they were in deep shit. Franklin was quick on his feet though and he immediately formulated a plan of action.
He said, "We have to put out this fire with some kind of liquid. We have no water or cola so it must be urine."
With that, Franklin whipped out his little stublet and let a good stream go. Pupa followed suit, but alas, poor Lasiter was dead. It seems that his body had been consumed by the very flames that he would have had Pupa do damage to himself with. This is irony. Now, the two buddies still shot urine out of their tubes with great accuracy and frequency. They did so much of this that the fire was extinguished and Lasiter's dead body was covered in a thick coating of blackened and charred flesh as well as semi-congealed urine. When you think about it, that's probably the way most hobos leave the world. I don't think it would so bad to go out in a hail of urine or even a hail of hand grenades for that matter.
And one more thing to let you in on before I move on to the next thing: the refrigerator was doomed from the beginning. It seemed as though the powers of fate and destiny and temptation brought these two things together only so it/they could rip them apart once more. Tub of cellulite told the refrigerator goodbye just after he realized that it was his urine that was drowning it, and not the heat of the flames. He cried a little bit over the loss, but it really wasn't that big of a deal, to me anyway.
Franklin cocked his little pinhead and said, "Johnny, wow, that was some show, but we should get moving before we are pursued by the police and other small town authorities. What do you say?"
Pupa craned his neck hard to the left and narrowly avoided breaking that very same neck in the process. Then he said, "Agreed."

CHAPTER 3
THE OPEN ROAD: PART 2
Allow me to ask you a question. Say you burned down some place and the only way you could put it out was to urinate all over the flame, would you do it? Of course you would. Now let met add an addendum to the same question I just posed. Say in doing all this urination, you were going to kill someone by accident, but it was only a hobo and he was kind of the cause of the inferno anyway, would you still do it? Of course you would, again. Now you are beginning to witness the awe and glory that can only come from knowing who you truly are in this life, or in any other. For a great man once told me that if I knew not who my own father was, I could seek solace in the comfort of another.
The smoldering ashes of this "piss-train" dwindled and died in the background as Pupa and Franklin walked away. They didn't know exactly where they were headed, but one thing was for sure, they needed to find food in a bog way honey.
Johnny took out his toolbox and said, "I am hungry."
Franklin followed suit and replied, "Yes, me too."
They vowed to one another right then and there that they would move on through this great American landscape and find what they considered to be food somewhere within its boundaries. They pondered their situation as they walked through the thicket and then Franklin, little, loveable Franklin dropped to his knees with an idea.
He cried and cried and through gritted teeth and throat tightening sobs he managed, "We could catch something and eat it for dinner here in the great outdoors just like the old Indians used to do."
Tub-Tub thought this over and stroked his long chin. Much good game did exist in and around the thicket they were crawling through and much of the game consisted of creatures that were quite fun to catch and flay.
Pupa deliberated, "Perhaps, my good friend, your atrocity has finally served you well. You inadequate height and strange body build have given you the gift of knowledge beyond humanity's wildest dreams. So, yes! Yes, I will catch some creatures with you and we will eat them, just as the mighty Squaws did way back when."
Franklin was more than overjoyed to hear this great and unfathomable news so he jumped about for a bit and did what people in the industry like to call "The Dance of the Dead." After he completed this ritualistic nonsense, he made ready to go out on the hunt. Big sticks became his weapons of choice and nudity became his hunting jacket. Franklin was certainly a sight to behold. His muscles were taut, quivering bulges of miniscule anti-flab that would send any woman home to her mother. Only good could come from this.
Pupa himself was a bit different in his pre-hunt countenance. He stood, tall in his girth and hideous in his deformation. His long limbs heavy under the pressure of his repulsive lard. His head moist with perspiration and the love of America, Pupa was ready to go.
Franklin suggested, "There is a little thicket over there. I will run into that ole' brush and flush out something in the style of a creature. You will then attack and apprehend this vermin and we will then roast it and consume it."
"Agreed."
Franklin climbed to the top of the ground and did just as he had sworn. He backed his little personage up and stared hard into the underbrush. He could almost feel the little creatures within its confines crying for mercy. They cried to their gods and this was their mistake. Franklin accepted no pleading and he gave no mercy to these savage beasts who knew not the glory of Christ almighty.
He said, "Lord God, and sweet baby Jesus give me the power to vanquish my foes and I will, in turn, give you the power to disseminate gastro-intestinal pain with the greatest of ease."
F-R-A-N-K-L-I-N coiled himself like a small spring and clicked his tongue, once, twice, three times, and then he was off. Pupa stood and watched in awe as the little guy seemed to turn into a viscous fluid with the speed of his motion. He turned into motor oil and flew into the bushes. Here's what happened. You guessed it, the bushes caught on fire, just like the poor old train. Those animals came running out like their lives depended on it though, so that much was good for every one involved.
Fat ass viewed the animals making their own ho chi min trail right into hell. He sat, motionless for multiple seconds then the words of small Franklin hit him in his mind. "Get them you retarded son of a bitch!"
With amazing grace and culpability, Fat Kong ran after the creatures and attempted to ensnare them. First he caught nothing, then he caught zero animals for dinner.
Franklin the incredible rematerialized and shook his head. He knew in the bottom of his heart that there would be no food that night despite his amazing efforts to kill the animals of the land.
Johnny was not weeping, but he said, "I am sorry, truly sorry my small manfriend. Please do not be angry."
Franklin jumped up into Johnny's arms and sang this song, "Johhny, Johnny, I could never be angry with you. Johnny, Johnny I could never be angry with you. I am not angry with you. I am not angry with you."
The two friends looked at one another and then it became cold, for the sun was falling once more and it was to be another sub-zero night in the arctic tundra of America. Pupa pulled out some tinder and did what came natural to him.
The fire was warm, warmer than most. It burned with a green flame of irrationality and embarrassment. Pupa looked deeply into the flames for meaning and for something to satiate his unimaginable longing for the thing called sustenance. Franklin too looked into the fire, seemingly to manipulate it with his mind to extinguish the life of the fat asshole next to him who let their foodstuffs escape before his very tubby eyes. Franklin extinguished these thoughts for he knew they would lend him nothing but heartache and grief. He instead turned his inner eye inward and saw what he feared. His soul had become hard and black with the lack of food, and he knew that only one thing on this planet could cure his hungry soul.
Franklin turned his little stubby eyes to Pupa and uttered these few but absolutely valid words, "My friend, there is something ailing me and it must be cured, lest I find myself in the netherworld offering coin to Charon."
Pupa removed his thumb from his nipple and let it rip, "What troubles you midget?"
"My soul is empty and has grown black as night, black as pitch, blacker than the foulest witch."
"What should we do about it. I know of no doctors in the area and even if I did, they would cost a pretty penny indeed. I think you have the possibility to die sir stublet."
"No, there is only one cure for what ails me and it has nothing to do with your so called 'medicine'."
Pupa was perplexed and intrigued at the same time. He wanted to know more but was afraid to ask so instead he replaced his thumb with a stick from the ground and it seemed to be working. Franklin was drawn from his shy reserve and offered the information without being prompted.
He said, "The only cure for me can be found just beyond this point."
Franklin pointed with a squat index finger toward the glittering lights of a distant city and spoke, "America can give me my treatment in one of her great and vast cities. Johnny will you come with me on a side journey to the city so that I can cure my evil soul and then we can resume our trek across this great land via train and hobo lifestyle?"
Of course this was a huge question to be answered, but an answer it required and Pupa met the requirements. He cocked one eyebrow and roughed it up a little. He thought of himself as tough and as rugged and he thought of little Franklin all alone in that big city and how easy it would be for any of the city folk to enslave his small friend and make him do the work of the devil. No one should be forced to do the work of the devil and slavery was something reserved for special occasions. Johnny Pupa, the magnanimous, couldn't decide. He looked to the sky for a sign.
"Jesus H. Christ at your service," said Christ as he tipped his workman's hat. Christ stood in the doorway of a different well-endowed angel's apartment.
The angle said, "Jesus I just don't know what is wrong with my sink. Maybe you could check it out and maybe you could use your pipe. And maybe you could put your pipe in my sink and maybe your pipe could shoot white liquid into my sink and maybe you could squeeze my faucets the whole time you were putting your pipe in my sink."
Jesus smiled a little smile and retorted, "Ma'am I am here to do whatever needs doing. That's why I am the handyman."
The angel dropped her drawers and pointed to her vaginal region. Being divine has its advantages as Christ found out. Her vagina was glowing with angelic power as he stared at its beauty. The angel touched her left labia and uttered in a whisper, "This needs doing."
CUT TO:
Jesus H. Christ, hilt deep in the finery of one angelic hussy who shall remain nameless. Christ thrust into her again and again until she began to resemble Salman Rushdie. He cried a bit and his tears became nothing but the remnants of salt grains on the angel's back when they hit her white-hot skin. Passion, what glory shall we be allowed to taste?
And yes, the man called Jesus plunged into her with such great force that on his thirty fourth plunge an amazing miracle did occur. Jesus H. Christ, son of god, did shoot an immaculate load. The angel was blown off his rod with great enough force to plant her head in the wall across the room. Christ would have been appalled at this had he not found it immensely humorous. He laughed a little and then a very strange thing happened. He remembered that he was to be the divine guide of small Pupa back down on earth and it was time to do some work. Christ heard the small fat lad's prayer for a sign and he did more than answer it, he answered it.
The honorable Jesus H. Christ looked down upon American soil and saw his faithful follower and confidant crying his beady eyes out for a sign. So, Christ sat down in the angel/whore/tenant's apartment and thought long and hard about what he would give to his patient beast. He got the greatest idea in the seven seas and he gave it a tug. From Christ's left hand a fountain of good sprang out and hit the ground. The good saturated the wooden floor of the apartment and seeped down through the clouds to a praying little guy. Once the good got to earth though, it took a different form. It had become a sign.
Johnny Pupa looked up from his prayer with delight to see that, after a few minutes of hard insanity, he was rewarded with acknowledgment from the child king himself. Pupa got a sign.
Before the fat guy sat a stick in a very strange shape. It was twisted and gnarled with the scars of time and it began to speak. The old stick opened its mouth and said, "Johnny, you must go with your friend to the city and seek a cure for what ails him. A filthy heart, such as the one he has, is no match for a good craving and he is as good as dead to me without that. So go with him and have a good experience."
Pupa looked to Franklin who had also witnessed this miraculous sign and nodded his head. He said, "Franklin I will do more than go with you to this great American city in which we will find a cure for what ails you. I will be your guide and truest friend so that you will never fell alone in your time of need. Come let us away."
With that, the two headed off toward the lights of a beautiful American city in the distance. It's lights shone with a vaguely green hue that reminded Franklin of his ailment and made him wish he was not sick. This is when he realized that he was like everyone else because, in truth, all people have wishes and he knew at that exact moment that he was no more than a fish in the sea and everyone had a fishing pole. Most of these poles were made of bamboo. Some people with a little more money had poles made of fiberglass and/or graphite. On occasion some people were able to take boats out to do their fishing in deeper waters. Some people were labeled as crazy when they introduced the idea of plastic bait and had no intention of using the old tried and true method of putting a worm on a hook. Some people ended up with egg on their face. These people were not fish.


CHAPTER 4
THE CITY
The two amazingly avid friends viewed their legs, which were suffering from major cases of psoriasis, and moved on down the road to the small one's salvation. Pupa took a piece of rations from his satchel and gnawed on it hungrily.
"I know that love is a fickle thing, but nothing is going to stop me from achieving my dreams you slick faggot," he screamed into the clouds.
The city, what an amazing site it was. Lights were glittering like gold and silver, the streets were black like tar, and the people were alive and moving. So much hustle and bustle put a strange haze over Pupa's eyes. He didn't understand what the city was all about but he liked it.
As the two came onto the main street they began to walk up and down its length, taking in all of the things the city's busiest thoroughfare had to offer. There were street peddlers selling raw meat and baubles. There were street performers performing for raw meat and baubles. There were children begging their mothers and fathers for a piece of the raw meat or for a bauble. A nun was sitting on the ground stroking her long head. Nothing was wrong with this place and it was all amazing.
Pupa looked over to Franklin and asked, "Franklin, you said that something in this city would cure your ailment, so now that we have arrived, I must ask you what is it that will make you whole again?"
Franklin took a long draw from his finger and replied, "My friend, we have known each other for many moons and there is nothing I would not share with you. But for the remainder of the day, let us merely be friends and enjoy what this fine American city has to offer us. Let us walk these fine streets in the daylight and then when we grow tired we will find an inn and perform our way into the heart of the innkeeper so that we might acquire boarding. When the next sun rises, I will tell you all about what it is that will cure me and everything will be as it should."
"Fine."
So the plan was all laid out. The two comrades would walk the streets and enjoy the city for the remainder of the day, and then they would find shelter for the night, and in the morning the cure would come, but not before.
Franklin looked over to his left and saw the first proprietorship that the dynamic duo would enter while on their hiatus into the American city. Clearly labeled on the door was a small sign that read:
- Hound's Tooth Pub/Eatery -
The small half-man's mouth curled into a wry smile and he did utter the following words, "Johnny fat-ass that is what the industry mongols would call a bar. It has been more than two times twenty fortnights since I have tasted the fine aged flavors of a great and alcoholic beverage. Let us partake of their drink and enhance our own friendship in doing so."
Pupa licked his throat and replied, "Yes, I would love nothing more than to drink down a frothy and intoxicating beverage with you my dearest friend. Come, let us know the joys of the common man and share with him our great thirst for alcohol."
The twin cheeks of the giant's ass made unholy sounds as they approached the Hound's Tooth, and the little flea's mammoth teeth and eyes made their own noises in the wake of the two immense buttocks. Now prepare thyself good reader for what is next about to befall our young heroes. For the description of the following encounters and events will surely throw you for a loop and make you misunderstand what it means to be a living breathing person on this planet today. Let us resume, then, the tale at hand and probe further into the souls of our two favorite characters. And begin.
Johnny Pupa walked through the old saloon style doors that hung on raspy and unsightly hinges at the front entrance of the Hound's Tooth. Franklin walked in a bit behind his bigger and much more portly friend. They looked around and this is what they saw with their little eyes.
Everywhere, a thick smoke hung like foul smelling breath breathed out by a giant and not picked up by him either. The place was not crowded by the "old school definition." There were a few people in there, don't get me wrong. A place called the Hound's Tooth will surely do business, but at the time there were a precious few people in the place, we'll say there were eight or nine. The barkeep was a robust old fellow with a thick brown beard that reeked of alcohol and day old mustard. A few patrons were at the bar near this haggard old chap, and the others were spread out at the various tables in the quaint little room. The wall paper reminded Johnny of his time in the hospital with its sadistic inscriptions.
- Remember the hospital you fat ass pig? -
Franklin was more interested in the ceiling fans. They were immense in size and in blade count. Each fan, of which there were three, contained no less than eighteen blades and no more than forty-three. The sight of those insane blades inspired Franklin. He vowed in his mind right then and there to write a poem some day about the fans and their glorious power and how they saved the human race from its own desecration and desolation. he vowed that one day he would come back and save this tiny town from ruination.
Johnny lowered a thick finger in front of Franklin's face and it seemed as though he were pointing at a table in the corner. Franklin viewed the finger and took its meaning to be that Pupa wanted them to sit at the table in the corner. Franklin began making a move toward the corner, but then thought better of it, what if it was a trap? Instead he calmly said, "Johnny, let's belly up to the bar and share our drink with the fine people of this town. I think that a man feels more like a man if he can suck down a few suds while he is working outside."
"Fair enough."
The bar itself was covered in a thick brown coating of "bar shit." This didn't seem to bother either of our fine heroes. In fact, they sat down on their stools and put their forearms right up in that unholy sauce and looked into the barkeeps dead eyes. The barkeep came over to them and they ordered.
Franklin went first, "I'll have a fine pitcher of your best ale."
Pupa begged for drink in turn, "I need only the sweet nectar of a beer myself young sir."
The barkeep opened a mouth that revealed the most foul smelling carcass rot of the seven seas and he also displayed a nice row of zero teeth. as he opened this death trap, he said, "I'll have yer orders out in a minute er two. Until then, eat this."
The barkeep pushed a bowl of black, tar-like putty in front of the two youthful travelers and then he disappeared behind the bar to get their cool and frosty chilled beverages.
The small child-sized manthing known only as Franklin eyed the sludge warily. Pupa eyed nothing however, and he took the bowl in both hands and slid the substance from the confines of the holding unit into his own gargantuan mouth. He swished the stuff around a bit, to experience its full body, and then he gulped it down in one great and lovely swallow.
"What was it that you just consumed fat friend?" asked the stub of a man.
"Well," replied tub-o, "I think it was a mixture of the barkeeps own making. I will not question its origin or name. I will only enjoy its foul taste, smell, and reaction with my innards."
Johnny Pupa then let out a belch the likes of which no man, woman or child on this great globe has ever known. The belch, however, had a funny quality. The normally gassy excretion that we all know and love in today's modern world had a thickness to it that was liquid. In fact, some call it vomit or puke. Pupa did, in that instant, release from his mouth a foul concoction of the black juice and his own bile that made Franklin swoon.
The barkeep returned with their drinks to find that all the sludge was gone. Upon seeing this insanity he uttered, "I love you, these drinks er on the house fine lads. ARRRGGG." he then disappeared into the nether realm from which he came.
Pupa took his huge mug in hand and swallowed down the contents with amazing grace and agility. Franklin savored his liquid salvation. He let the funny bubbles dance on his tongue and then he pretended that what he was drinking wasn't fine ale at all, but instead a mixture of blood urine from his own birth mother. You see, nothing in this world is truly "safe."
As the two guys drank down their stuff, one of the denizens of the place came to sit down next to Franklin at the bar. He was a careworn fellow indeed. His poor garments looked as though someone had taken them and fought them, and won. His poor teeth looked as though someone had pulled them and put them back in only after they had used them in a game of cards. His new nose looked as though it used to belong to a young sapling, but was traded for nothing more than a few coins. His ragged eyes looked as though someone had used up his last remaining vestibules and forgotten to replace them with anything, even with something as useless as ash. This tired man's countenance was as though he knew nothing in his life save the beauty of a nude child. And he had a name, I assure you dear whore. He was called by a single word. C-BOB.
"Hello to you young sires, my name be C-BOB. I want only to sit here on this fine stool and talk a bit with you of days past. What say ye'?"
Pupa was, at this point, a drunken mess of flesh. He was no good for talking but nonetheless, he managed, "I hate you, you filthy son of a bitch, but, yes, we can talk."
Franklin was, at this point, only about one half of the way finished with his fine liquor so he was able to form some semblance of a nasty verse, "Chokka, Chokka, Chokka, I'm gonna fokya."
Old C-BOB looked straight into the eyes of the midget, and in doing so he looked to his soul. He saw the torment and pain in the little gouge's essence and he struck up a conversation based on this. He said, "I may be a mere C-BOB, but I know when's when. I know how's how, and I know that you ain't no midget at all."
Franklin's only reaction was outrage and heat. His eyes burned hotter than the sun and they melted right out of his little head. They grew back immediately and were again melted away by his "heat-box." They grew back one more time, and now they seemed to remain. Franklin screwed up his new eyes to look at the old fool and he spat, "I know not what your intentions are foul creature, but I assure you that I will not take kindly to anymore insults thrust at my person. I am indeed what you call a midget and there is nothing in my genetic makeup that will allow me to be limited in my expanse or articulation. Therefore, fine tough, we will meet again one day and I will find your weakness just as you have found many a ripe teat on the streets of your fair city. Good day."
Pupa lifted his head up from the ground and floated up to the ceiling with his newly found lightness. He drifted back down to the bar and laughed at the scene that had played out before him. He knew what he should say at such a time to allay both parties' hatred and loathing for the other but instead he offered, "I think that you are both in the green sect
 

 
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