Page 40 - Unlikely Stories 2

Earl King and his Puppet Thing

and unidentifiable organic integument. Its feminine attributes were
discernible only after the scientist pointed them out, one by one.
“Ah, ain’t she sweet, folks? Just look at that classy chassis! Those
long hairy arms! And lips! Why, I grafted three or four pairs together to
get the perfect pout. Oh, this is the skin I love to touch: genuine virgin
vinyl! Such lovely hair you have, my Living Doll; every strand glued in
by hand.”
Calamari stroked his creation obscenely and obsequiously,
continuing to croon endearments and encomia. The children pulled
faces; even the adults, suddenly placed in the role of voyeur, shifted
uneasily. Earl King, sensing his viewers’ discomfort at even a burlesque
of necrophilia, brought the soliloquy to an abrupt end.
Didjiridu burst in from stage left, a greasy burlap sack slung over one
shoulder. “Boss! I’m back!”
The scientist snapped out of his erotic reverie. “You blundering
moron! Haven’t I told you never, never, never, never to break in on me
like that? Why, you could spoil some very delicate experiment
surprising me like that. Now, let me see what you’ve got there—and
wipe that silly grin off your face!”
“Okay, boss!” The clownish confederate dropped the sack, but not
the grin.
“Ow! Not on my foot, peanut-brain!” The audience guffawed, its
sympathies firmly back with the puppets, both in the palms of the
puppeteer.
Calamari reached into the bag with both his stubby arms and
withdrew a dark wooden rod. “What’s this?” he cried.
“It’s a leg, boss, just like you ordered.”
“No, no, no! This is the leg of a table! I wanted the leg of a woman!
Don’t you know the difference, you fool?”
“Uh, well, no. What is it?”
“This!” howled the mad doctor, and chased Didjiridu around the set,
beating him with the offending limb. “And this! And this! Now do you
get the difference?”
“Ouch! Oof! Oh, yes, I got it, boss. I got it but good!”
Calamari put down his impromptu club. “Well, what about the
tongue I sent you for? Is it in there?” He rummaged around in the
bottom of the sack, and pulled out a crumpled strip of leather. “Wait a
minute! Is this supposed to be the tongue I need for my Living Doll?”

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