J staggered on through the dessert and found a glazed cherry. It lay there inert.
“Prick!” he cried, “I fucking hate glazed cherries - they make me sick - and I’m starving to death.”
The cherry transformed into something resembling bad cartoon advertising. It smiled with an unnerving smile, full of malice, hatred, malevolence, evil, bastardry, and a touch of whipped cream.
“Eat me, J,” it purred in an amorous fashion, “eat the real thing. Love me J Love me. I will never lie to you. I can tell you the truth of your quest if you only will taste of my flesh. Wha’d’ja say J? Wha’d’ja say? Will you take a bite? Be sure not to eat the stem now won’t you? Go ooonnnn J. Take me!”
J edged forward. The cherry had grown larger and larger and pretty soon the eye of the cherry was all he could see and he could feel that cherry bite, could feel that cherry bite, feel that cherry bite, bite, bite, ripe, ripe, ripe, bite, bite, bite, see the cherry, Neneh Cherry, old gold chocolate, smooth cherry taste, taste it, taste it, taste it, taste it, taste it...
The tribal drums in his head ceased as he bit into the cherry, feeling it slide and glide down the waterslide inside. It sank into the deeper recesses of J’s stomach and lay there.
Suddenly...
“CHUCK CHERRY!” screamed J as he felt the cherry possess his soul.
“DEEP DOWN IN LOUISIANA CLOSE TO NEW ORLEANS, WAY BACK UP IN THE WOODS AMONG THE EVERGREENS.”
Spasms shook J’s booty and his pelvis thrust wildly like all over the place like a bucking bronco.
“Woah there boy, woah there,” said the cherry as J’s pelvis came to a grinding halt. It was then that J realised that two separate entities were residing in his soul and that the cherry was talking to him.
“Why do you want to kill Germy? Why? Is it something deep inside of you that won’t quit? Or is it something deeper in the very pit of your primitive soul? Do you feel something for Germy? No, I am not speaking of all things anal but of a special connection you have with him. I know of this Germy and I know why you feel this way. I am going to tell you J and you might not like it. But I know all your secrets J, and this is the way.”
J reached into himself to find the conveniently located cupboard in the cherry and found a scroll. He carefully opened the seal and found it was an artfully rendered birth certificate and a detailed medical report on the nature of Siamese hermaphrodite twins joined at the hip.
“Ever wondered how you got that scar on your hip, J? Huh?”
Well he’d also wondered why he had the genitalia of both a man and a woman, but the scar thing was bugging him at the moment.
Cherry Lee Lewis, as the cherry was known with its full name, went on to explain the bizarre circumstances surrounding J’s birth. Apparently, he was borne of a five hundred pound bearded woman, “a grotesque act of nature,” as Cherry described her. She fell pregnant by a demented horse with a high sperm count. It was officially rape, said Cherry and added, “Great Balls of Fire!”
After bleeding profusely from the vagina for three straight months, she decided to cash in on it by sitting naked at the top of a cliff and charging money for people to see “The Human Waterfall.” After the bleeding stopped, she went into labour for a full four weeks and was in agonising pain for about two of them. Finally she gave birth to two hideous twins covered in black mucus and sawdust. They were joined at the hip but were, oddly enough, not identical. One was an ugly failure of a boy, part Mr Squiggle and part Eddie the Eagle and the other was, of course, you J. The woman eventually died of acne.
“So...” J paused briefly pondering the information he had been given, “...that means Germy is my... brother!”
“No, no no no,” replied Cherry in a fading voice.
“Then who was my Siamese twin brother?” enquired J.
“Shakin’ Stevens is your brother!” blasted out Cherry.
“What? This does not make sense. What has Germy got to do with this? I think you’re the third most dishonest hallucination I’ve ever had.”
Cherry started laughing in a manner that sounded as if only he knew the punch line of some sordid joke.
“I will explain this to you, O anally-obsessed person. Do you remember how Shakin’ died?”
“He’s not dead. I think.”
“No no no,” again muttered Cherry shaking his head. “In late 1983 Shakin’ had come to the conclusion that he would like to live a normal everyday life. Then in 1984 he successfully faked his death. Strangely enough, no one noticed. He attempted to live an ordinary life working menial jobs. Unfortunately he couldn’t keep down any job that was offered to him. He began at a convenience store, worked at McDonald’s, then at Trak Industries, professional midget throwing, animal insemination and eventually a job as a Shakin’ impersonator. He lost this job as he just wasn’t good enough. Finally he landed a stable job as a John Lennon impersonator. This was a rare occupation as John was still living at this point. Unfortunately, Shakin’ was murdered during what was thought to be the assassination of John Lennon.” (Editor’s note: Society still believes that John Lennon did actually die in 1980. This must go down as one of the greatest cover-up of the Twentieth Century. However, when Lennon did die he was reborn as a Gold FM DJ).
“I still don’t get it,” stuttered J, overwhelmed by the information.
“Oh you’re a fucking moron. Just think, J.”
“You mean Germy was the assassin of John Lennon... I mean of Shakin’ impersonating John Lennon?”
“No! No, no, no, no, no, NO!” shouted the cherry. “You really have no insight into things black and white. Germy is John Lennon.”
J began to think. Life had been bizarre and sometimes downright silly towards him and he often wondered if he had any control at all. Then all of a sudden things began to make sense in a surrealistic way for him. His loathing for Germy had been building within his soul as Germy, by using his brother Shakin’ to fake his own death, had taken away the one thing in his life that mattered... his other half! Blood began pouring from the scar. J vowed that he would not rest until he had avenged the death of his brother: Shakin’ Bakin’ Stevens!
“Wow! I cannot believe that Shakin’ was my other brother... Man, things are just so bizarre. You are shitting me, aren’t you cherry?”
“Yeah I am actually, J. I just wanted to have some fun with you, you ignorant stupid fucking cunt. Of course Germy is your brother. It’s quite obvious really. Anyway, I’m off. I have to praise the Golden Poontang before the third moon of Whoop Whoop sings the song of the Sacrificial Grongorgan!”
With this, Cherry Lee Lewis walked off into the sunset whistling away to the Disgusting Brothers cover version of ‘What’s Love Got To Do With It.’
“Man, everybody’s got something to hide except me and The Monkees,” said J as he was left behind to ponder some of the questions that life had brought before him. Did he exist for any purpose other than to kill Germy? Did the Cigar Ash Desert really exist or was it just a chimerical land that had been invented by some old mad raver from the stink pits on The Garbage Planet? And was poor humour a trait of being a hallucinogenic cherry? J resigned himself to the cold hard fact that he...
would...
never...
know...
Fade to Black.
Inflict Kafe Gavani On The World
Comments on this chapter (1)
Add your comments on this chapter - Registration not required!
