Wednesday, November 22, 2017


the Pinto has been outfitted to look exactly like the DeLorean from the movie.

Mr. Maldark: wasn't that supposed to be more of a guide? i mean it's not even similar, it's exact. which blueprints did you use?

class: we all saw the movie.

Less: *newly confident* don't worry, Mr. Maldark, no copyright infringement. there's one shining difference.

the car is an exact copy of Marty's car bequeathed by the crazy professor. Maldark is on the teacher's side and cannot see the variant. the gullwing doors shine in the late-afternoon dew. or rather it's starting to spit slightly.

Maldark: uh oh, this is the worst water. it's just barely, so the course will be slick.

the DeLorean pulls up to the starting gate. its driver is one Less. the gullwing doors lose their shine cos there is rapidly no sun. but then the gullwing doors open up, revealing a smiling Less, and the gullwing doors start to flap like a bird! the vehicle slowly mounts up and floats on a cushion of invisible air above the hot street.

Maldark: *eyes wide* wow! that is something. you all get As!

the class cheers. Kelechi does a standing 360 flip.

Maldark: i would have given you all As anyway for effort, i'm an easy grader. just make sure that thing doesn't turn over midflight. or swerve off the course cos it's trying to shoot to the moon.

the other cars from the other area driving schools are storm-ready. every bolt and nut is in place. every seat and driver. though the driver in the Bentley Azure wears a mask you can still tell his tongue is salivating. the other participants include a Tesla rig, a Mercury Bobcat, and a candy-apple-green 1980 Chevy El Camino with that sleek unique long train bed.

the rumbling motors form a line spark of electric anticipation which crackles the outside cold air.

Maldark climbs in the cockpit and quickly climbs out, rubbing Less's shoulder with his shoulderpad.

Maldark: look straight ahead, my son. this winding road is your destiny. don't ever look back. pretend i don't exist. i know i haven't been with you through your struggle but i'm here now at the end. now cut the brakes, you won't need them, turn the key, or push the button whatever completes the circuit, and SHOOT THE MOON!!!


Intendo is giving himself a break and joining the circus. at least for one show. he saunters giddily to the bigtop entrance with arms swaying in the breeze like a '20s kid sucking a rock.

Intendo: treat yoself. if i have to do this dreary job i might as well take advantage of the one opportunity outpost. requested vehemently to be posted at this circus where the secret documents are. miles away from the ivory cage of Washington. this is our furtherst reach outward. go west, young man. i feel like a Roman liontamer. who's bad at his dead-end job. speaking of, LIONS! there will be lions here!

he wastes the time waiting in line chomping on a turkey leg using its wetness to pick up the last bits at the bottom of his 25-gallon balloon bag of caramel corn.

Intendo: gotta save some room for those peanuts you can only get at the circus. with those shells which are so unhealthily salty you want to eat them and not the nuts. you want to leave those stringy lines of rine under your tongue and see if you can digest the shells. wait, hold up, me first, i could pass all of you, i'm a govment man, but i choose not to to blend in! i want to get the uppermost seating up in the rafters to catch the best THESE are floorsworth tickets!

Intendo bops his head to the familiar tune of the Three Stooges circus theme as a coterie of mustached seals, must be 30 or so, get out of a small car with a flower for an antenna. they have driven so long it's second nature to them, they don't need to be trained anymore. a couple of clowns balance their red noses on their nose and jump in the pools of circle water cos it's hot inside the heavy tarpy insulated-material space-silver flowing tent fabric. a beautiful woman hides her head and reaches the spotlight completely nude. parents cover their kids' eyes. there's an audible gasp in the arena. cos she turns around and it's revealed she has a beard. on her face. a man in a black top hat which reaches the ceiling of the bigtop arrives from the non-circle darkness with a whip. no lions or any cats in sight. the man is simply into BDSM. the kids cover their own eyes. a couple of pale cool BMX bikers in dreads perform a couple of high jumps off dirt ledges cos there's no such thing anymore as a circus shot.

Michael Jordan hologram in the stands: the roof is the ceiling!

Wolf's disembodied voice in the stands: and now, kids of all ages, the moment you've all been waiting for!

George Takei hologram in the stands: tigers and bears, oh my!

Intendo's eyes wide at the spectacle. colored crosslights fill the space.

Wolf: the most dangerous job in the world! Comey will attempt to walk a long tightrope with no safety netting. the rope is so long it extends back to Washington, DC. don't try this at home, kids. or here! Comey is a trained spy. and he has really long legs. take off your pants, Jim, your silly stilts are showing.

Comey wipes his brow and takes a deep breath. he looks down to see a familiar face in the crowd. no one there. the entire arena is in a deep hush and there is only one light now. he leans on the trapeze bar to steady his long quavering body. he steps out for the first step and his leg goes wavy one way unevenly in snatches to one side. the members of the Flying Wallenda family are down below looking up with interest holding the balloon tarp just in case. and damning his genes of recklessness. there is only one Wallenda Family member left.

Comey struggles to keep his equilibrium. he methodically climbs the rope horizontally with his feet, grasping at every inch of the rope with his heated toes. the faux snakeskin bodysuit he's wearing is starting to chafe. he reaches the quarter pole of the tightrope, at least the tightrope showing under the tent.

the spotlight quickly turns off him and onto...........Ashley Parker!

Ashley: ta-da!

the crowd sucks wind.

she is wearing her trademark orange checkered grunge plaid sportscaster blazer. she takes it off sexily and beams a smile at Jim larger than the spotlight.

Comey: my darling. hug me! seriously, i need you to balance me!

Ashley makes her way gingerly on the tightrope ripping open the soles of her ballet stockings.

Ashley: my slip is tearing. not the one you want.

Comey: blue slip. i was so blue. kiss me, you fool!

the two embrace on top of the world. a firework goes off inside. failed bulb. the crowd cheers and claps ringily.

Intendo for his part is mesmerized. he sighs with gusto and shakes his fists together, that's how he claps.


he leans back on the railing of his seat. Ashley spots this with her one good eye as she leaves the other closed while French kissing Comey.

the two start to copulate in the middle high of that tightrope. noone closes their eyes. no one, everyone is wide awake at noon. their hands and feet form a pretzel and clothes come off faster than the crack of a whip (unfortunately). the two show the world what good love is, they slide their fingers into each other and wash away their guilt cos their clothes are practically spray-painted on at this point it's so hot. they grind their emotions and growl like tigers as they suck the wind out of the joint with their kissing and groping and touching of butts. Ashley manages to suck Comey's penis while squatting perfectly in synch with the teetering rope like a seasoned pro. forming a cross. Jim closes his eyes and prays for absolution. he rubs her nipples like rubbing those special coins you could only get at a circus when you were a kid.

they talk inbetween their teeth.

Ashley: i saw your twitter yesterday. it made me sad.

Comey: why?

Ashley: cos I know you're secretly funny but now the world knows. that was our thing.

Comey: oh lordy i'm gonna come with the details.

Ashley: *stroking with her teeth* come on, you dirty boy, you can do it. just a little more...


Ashley: thank you.

Comey cums all over the crowd. spraying them like summer rainfall. they are stunned at first but soon erupt in a ball of laughter. Intendo trembles his pert lips at the moment of Comey's point of no return.

Comey: *relieved and exhausted* what were you doing with Jonathan Lemire in that cargo helicopter?

Ashley: you peep my instagram? work. next time you can cum in my mouth you know. less messy.

Comey: i always hedge my bets the first time. want to stay on the safe side. conservative.

the two lovers raise their arms together in triumph. Ashley kisses Comey on the mouth and on his two nipples one by one then redresses into something more comfortable and jumps down from the tightrope and lands gracefully like a cat.


Jules said...

My slip is tearing and my tear is slipping. *)

the late phoenix said...

don’t cry, mah dahlin, I love you *)

heehee, reminds me of that Trent song, I’m slipping on the tears you made me cry