Once again, thwarted by the raging
Green Gorgon Queen, the Evil Absolute
had no recourse but to turn ever darker;
to retreat into the bowels of the Kave,
where the unholy alliance of the mystical
Ku Klux **** was formed in deepest
shadows; unseen white men plotting
their own & eventually everyone else's
destruction; bent on blind hatred &
meaningless, stupid revenge that only
brought uncomfortable & unsettling
laughter in polite company... but in secret,
they were sure, every decent white person
felt exactly as they did, even as before their
eyes the exhaustless wisdom of legendary
ones & the rapid speed of the machine-age
made the **** seem quaint & out-of-dated
even in their own minds, too embarrassed
to admit the horrible truth, that would have
sent Socrates & Aristotle into howling
paroxysms... sad to see stupidity wasted
on one so ugly; the Moderns had invented
the Neanderthal Ideal to compensate for
the pathetic reality of actually beating
one another over the heads... It was here,
in never seen recesses that the Absolute
summoned his latest dark immoral dread...
The Laugher!!!
Her foes vanquished for the time being,
Medusa thought to take in a show.
Staying in the town knowing Sherman's
fiery advance was yet to dawn on the gimlet-eyed
Rebels. She was ahead of her time
& looking back all the while. The show
was a melodramatic comedy of the type popular
in the pre-gilded era of dusky frontiers
& nascent city lights. The war just revving up,
before she could get back to ****** who as yet
had no fortelling of his own fate at that
ripe young age. Putting the Cowboy of the Future
out of mind & pinning a willowy white brim
in the teeth of Akasha & a few of the others,
as they all wrapped comfortably coiled beneath
the voluminous Chapeau.
Hoping there would plenty of high-stepping
chorines, Medusa prepared to be duly entertained.
Only to be crushed when the show appeared for all
of her high hopes to be a rather staid drawing room
drama of the modern variety; with realistic dialogue
and grave social concerns. It was the last thing she
needed, bu as she was walking out, one earnest
Victorian thespian while dragging her train across
the rickety boards, caught the material on a wayward
nail, which proved stubborn enough to tear
the half-knitted stage rag & unstrung corset
completely off the actress' back...
The first part of the Laugher's devious scheme
laid, instead, the staid audience rose to its feet
& burst into applause, appreciating the forward-
thinking playwright's daring; a completely
unexpected turn, as the brocaded velvet curtain
fell & house lanterns were lit... Medusa had had
her back to the stage the whole time peering
ahead toward the dark egress... Off to the side
unseen & all but unnoticed, the Absolute,
in his true identity of Horace Horatio Whoreson II,
who's progeny would likewise bear upon
the Gorgon's destiny years hence...
As the audience reached the smoking chamber,
slowly reflecting upon their most immediate
impressions & once catching themselves
giggling a bit, tittering spreading throughout
the room until one by one, every man,
woman, maiden & suitor dropped dead
from convulsive choking laughter...
In the hansom cab Medusa thought she
should've gotten her money back for the
ticket, peering at the punched slip, making
note to avoid the New Realism from here on.
Backstage at the theater the actors were aghast
that the audience did not return for the second
act, thinking their careers doomed... but a stage
hand rushing in from the lobby gravely informed
that the entire company in attendance had all
died of from a deadly leak in the gas sconces.
Since the tragedy could not ave been avoided at
any cost, it was attributed to an Act of God &
the actors were relieved of their guilt... their souls
spared; the young actress, however, was never to
quite recover; having witnessed her shame in front
of the stunned then mesmerized crowd of genteel
upstanding citizens & townsfolk who all had
in every likelihood had never seen a denuded young
maiden scamper away in heavy boots after freezing
in disbelief, giving a prolonged view of choice
Southern womanhood to the full house, the orchestra
striking up a delayed tattoo...
Cheeks blushing like bright American Beauties,
the otherwise pale actress greeted the mysterious
courtier with the distinctly foreign accent;
Claiming to be nobility...
he informs the girl that he is a doctor, of sorts,
& proceeded to 'examine' her in the hope that
she had not been injured when forcibly disrobed
with such incautious suddeness...
finding his clammy fingers crawling the girl's
spine & reaching for her ribs, she recoils with
uncontrollable snickering; "I'm ticklish!" she cried.
The hellish black eyes ablaze, the oily perfumed
phantom dashes from her quarters as if struck
by the very lightning of genius!!
If he could merely get the wicked Queen
in the nearest proximity to a feather, he'd
have her at his mercy!!
Disguised as a traveling feather salesman,
the villain enters the gaudily appointed lobby
of the town's main hotel in search of clients
for his dubious wares; "You wouldn't know
of a young madame who might be in mind
to purchase such fine Old World Ostrich!!"
he boasted to the unimpressed help, coming
upon the bored desk-man; "I say, my man,
would there a female presence about that
would love the silken licks of a fine plume?"
"I be needin' a new quill pen," croaked the
roused clerk, "You be having one a'them now?"
Taken by the abrupt request, the quandried
no-gooder is forced to fish through his bag
of props all of which served no purpose but
to provoke derisive laughter; mangled stems
losing their mottled bloom as the dusty
shafts molted in a furious flap of loose spines.
"I say, old man, I've been wearing this top
since Boston," said one gruff old man, doffing
his pate, "You wouldn't have the single red tail
feather of an Eastern Blue Breasted Whip-poor-will
or perhaps jut any old common Goatsucker there
in that bag?"
Having nothing of the sort, the flustered
peddler hurried packing up his flying feathers
rushed out of the lobby back to the street where
a passing crow happened to spot a premium
target for a leisurely midair release....
the gob as big as an egg felt good coming
out too, as it splashed across the bewildered crown...
dripping past spectacles & that with an
inopportune snort lodged in the sinuses...
Momentarily Medusa came down to
the desk & inquired about any messages,
complimenting the clerk on his fluttering
new pen. "Feller was jes' in here givin'
'em away! He had a bunch!"
Having just fed her hair, she
felt there was no need to spoil it...
Being the **** of laughter rather than deliberately causing any,
the archfiend skulked back to his dark lair to write better jokes.
Thinking perhaps the lady in question
preferred more savory fare, & enlisting
his willing Trilby, the young actress
of his recent acquaintance, to approach
said well-heeled lady in the guise of traveling
corset sales-lady; bedecked in leather
high-boys & tightly cinched silk garter,
a waist all of 19" & a face
glowing red atop a head about to burst...
in High-heeled hob-nail
boots, the dainty young thing sauntered
up to the hotel desk. Captivating at first blush,
the normally near-sighted clerk straightened
his bow-tie. "Can I help you, Miss?"
"Uh, yes. My name is Miss somethinorother,
I'm a..."
"I didn't get that name, was that something?"
"Or other."
"Miss Other,"
"No Miss something."
"What? I missed something."
"My name.
"What was it?"
"What?"
"You say something?"
"My name!"
"What was it?"
"Something, I... oh, never mind!"
"Okay, Miss Nevermind,
what can I do for you?"
"Can you give me a room
with a hot bath?"
"I can give you the room
but you'll have to take the bath yourself..."
"I see you have a new telephone."
"You don't have to look at it, you listen to it."
Medusa, descending the Hotel stairs,
sniffed out the aroma of tanned meat.
"Any messages for me?"
"Telegram."
"Can I have a look at it?"
"Oh, you don't look at it!
You listen to it!" piped up
the corseted pipsqueak...
"And you are?" quote Medusa.
"Something!"
"That you are...what have you
in your leather case?" asked the
curious queen mischievously.
"Oh! Leather," the girl cried,
back in character. "I sell leather!
Would you like to see the new
French fashion line?"
"Why don't we go up to my boudoir?"
offered the mistress at last, then
curtly but politely,
"Amos, send a bottle of twenty year
old bourbon up to my room in twenty
minutes. It's waited this long."
"Will do, Miss M..."
"That's Captain."
"Captain?" gushed the frail female,
"You must be important!"
"I'll tell you all about it upstairs,"
offered the frilly arm of the regal
guest, leading the lamb-like girl
to unknown & unguessed pleasures...
Th plot of course was to get the
Blue hero festooned in some
strappy leather contraption before
moving onto tickle-play, at which
point...
But the girl was already giggly as Medusa stroked
the fuzzy cheek & led her further into her sanctum...
It was Medusa now with one thing on her mind, part
of the deal she'd struck with the Union was that she'd
be responsible for her own *****, which she now felt
firmly within her grasp... the girl sighed, her mind
drifting to the somber performance the night before,
before the single capricious nailed removed her garment
to sudden applause once the curtain had gone down...
She had encountered the strange foreigner
in her dressing room but now under the bewitching
gaze of the fabled primeval beauty, the little lady
had no choice but to wee a bit.
"Oh, I'm wet," she cried weakly as the door sounded.
"That must be the whisky. Now we'll really get wet."
But the clerk had been tipped an honest fin
to allow the odd creature to bring the *****
up to the door of the lady's boudoir suite...
"Let's get you out of these things.
They must be uncomfortable,"
suggested the queen flipping the girl
over on her ample chest &
shifting the shifting petticoats until
arriving at the girl's leather
pantaloons. "You come prepared."
"I sell leather!" the girl cry muffled
by settee pillows. "And you model
it too? Now that's service,
but it must be hot..."
Standing outside holding a seltzer bottle,
the fiend was set to strike, but when the
door flung open, a ***** soaked set of
rawhide Lederhosen slapped him in the
face...the bottle snatched from his fingers
& the door slammed.
Taking a swig, the door flung open again,
this time the bottle crashing down over his head.
"That's not bourbon! Where's Amos, you clod?
You must be new... go and try again!
and if you come back here with water,
I'll drown you with it!" The door slamming
again, feminine titters rising gleefully,
listening outside for the sounds of laughter
proving futile after a few hours, with only
endless cries of "O, Captain! My Captain!"
bellowing from the mistress' suites.
With no one left to do his dastardly
***** work, the Absolute is at last forced
to take matters in his own hands... but not
entirely... of his scant loyal followers
remain Moonshine former sidekick to the
electrically incinerated White Lightnin';
& the traitorous Indian couple Running Bear
the cowardly brave, & the ditzy White Dove
whose true allegiance she knew not where;
kidnapped as a child from her settler parents
who were themselves scalped & worn as
fashionable accessories, all White Dove
knew was the life of a Plains Indian squaw...
Feeling at odds with her Native upbringing
White Dove has no recourse but to Kave of
the ****, where the Absolute sits staring at
French daguerreotypes by candlelight...
Seeing the shimmer white girl in her Native
attire of next-to-nothing standing just beyond
the light, a pale silhouette in the faint flicker.
"Yes?" called the wary man, not at all
embarrassed by his discovery. He had been
here for some time, having gone through
many candles... the spreading white puddle
at his feet.
"I can no longer join forces with the White Man!"
announced the Indian maid defiantly.
The final indignation... the all mighty Grand
Wizard rose up to is full stature, all four foot
five of him and in rushing to seize her
dropped the candle plunging the deep cavern
into complete darkness.
Fumbling his pockets for a match giving
the rebellious squaw time to pick up a rock
& when the flare flamed at his face she
struck him pointedly across the brow with
a careful swing of her honed, limber arm...
Passed out in utter darkness Whoreson otherwise
known as the Evil white Absolute, knew at long
last what it was like to experience true blackness.