Sunday Archive: Nacho Sasha and the Knights of St. John, part five

Nacho Sasha and the Knights of Saint John Part V: Pitty-Pat Cat

The bar patrons shivered in a corner while police sirens wailed outside. The knight’s horse shifted as he moved his sword towards my chest. “Speak knave, where art Nacho Sasha, witch and demon lover?”

“I thought witches were girls,” 1985 Satan muttered.

“Answer the question, sirrah!” the knight screamed.

“He said sirrah,” 1985 Satan giggled.

“Nacho may be in the bathroom,” 16th Century Satan replied. “Copulating with…uh…the devil.”

“In his dreams!” 1985 Satan replied.

“I don’t think he dreams about that.” I said through clenched teeth.

“I think he does,” 1985 Satan replied.

“I don’t think so.”

16th Century Satan spread his hands, “We are but lowly bar patrons, seeking a cup of hearty ale to warm us on our journey. We know not of this Nacho, nor would we associate with one who speaks with demons and devils.”

“Dude, he’s sounding so 16th Century,” 1985 Satan whispered to me.

Indeed, the knight was eyeing the older Satan carefully. “Do I know you, traveler?”

16th Century Satan smiled, “I don’t think so. Oh, wait, is your sister’s name Ilse?”

With a roar, the knight leaped from his horse and swung his sword at 16th Century Satan. At the last instant, Satan pushed away and slammed into my manservant. They fell to the floor together as the knight stepped onto the table, shouting maniacally.

“I don’t remember an Ilse in the 16th Century,” 1985 Satan muttered.

The knight turned and stared at us.

“I say, old bean.” I muttered out of the side of my mouth to 1985 Satan, “would you mind terribly punching the numbers 2001 into the ime-tay ravel-tay device?”

“Clever boy,” 1985 Satan punched in the numbers and hit enter.

The knight looked down at 16th Century Satan, “Ye shall take me to this room of baths where Nacho lays with the devil, then I shall cleft both of you in twain.” he barked.

“Now I’m from his time period,” 16th Century Satan said to me, “And I still don’t know what he just said.”

I was getting used to the disorientation of time travel. This time, when the lights and sound of the experience had faded, I was ready to grab the time travel device from 1985 Satan. It was his first time and he was reeling slightly. We had made it to our start point in 2001 – Dupont Circle. I bounded towards the Metro with my manservant and the two Satans close behind.

“Where are we going, man?” 1985 Satan huffed as we charged down the escalators into the subway station.

“Where nobody will think to look for me.”

Between getting everyone fare cards and catching the train, there wasn’t time to go into detail. Once the train left the station and began barreling down the tunnels, I began to relax a bit.

“It’s obvious,” I said, “that there is a second time travel device. We need to lay low until we can figure out our plan of attack.”

1985 Satan raised his hands in the air, “So how about I have no part in this? Let me zip back to 1985 and get on with my business.”

16th Century Satan grinned, “I’m having fun. What is the name of this speedy chariot, again?”

1985 Satan stared at his past self.


I closed my eyes and massaged my temples. “We’re going to hide out for a bit, get this sorted out.”

“Hide out where?” 16th Century Satan asked. He glanced around in awe, “There are a lot of black savages on this strange contraption.”

Everyone within earshot turned towards us and glared.

“Merciful Jesus,” 1985 Satan hissed.

“We’re headed to a girl’s house. A friend of a friend.”

At the Takoma station we disembarked and caught a taxi to Lola’s house. Lola was Jezebel’s good friend and quite the little sex kitten. She rarely associated with me unless Jezebel was around to protect her so, I knew, her house would be the safest place if James or D’Artagnan were hunting for me.

Lola owned a three-story, Georgian-style house nestled in the woods right near downtown Takoma Park. The place was bought and paid for by her grandfather, the first German-American millionaire. His fortune dated back to the summer of 1945 when his shoehorn business really took off. At least, that’s what he says. I met him once and, strangely, he knew nothing about shoehorns.

There’s no doubt that poor Lola was more than a little displeased when she answered the door and found me standing there with two Satans and my hideously deformed manservant.

“Lola,” I said, “I’m in a spot of trouble. We need some place where we can get out of sight and pull ourselves together. Now, I wouldn’t normally –”

1985 Satan stepped forward and put a hand on Lola’s shoulder. “Do you know how extraordinarily cute you are?”

“Cute?” Lola seemed to take it the wrong way.

“By cute, I mean you can melt men’s hearts. You can draw them in with your eyes, possess them with that smile. Enslave them with your scent. A scent of beauty.”

That did it. The 20th Century Prince of Darkness had just charmed Lola.

“And,” 1985 Satan said, “You have an amazing rack.”


“By Jehovah’s enormous testicles!” 16th Century Satan cursed, “Look, lady, let us in or we’ll cut you to ribbons and eat your flesh.”

Lola’s eyes grew wide as 16th Century Satan and my manservant pushed their way in.

1985 Satan sighed to himself, “The 16th Century.” He shook his head sadly.

Lola sat down on a couch while 16th Century Satan uttered a few more threats, then the two Satans and myself huddled together on another couch while my manservant went off to find some mulling spices.

A white and black cat watched us knowingly from atop a bookshelf. The cat’s head followed 1985 Satan as he put the time machine onto a coffee table.

“What’s your cat’s name?” I asked Lola.

“Her name is Pitty Pat!” she shouted defiantly.

“Quit flirting with the sexpot!” 16th Century Satan said, “What’s your plan?”

“Me?” I looked at 1985 Satan, “I don’t have a plan.”

“You will be arrested by the imperial police for this!” Lola shouted. “Now they are the ones who will cut you to ribbons and devour your flesh!”

“Well don’t look at me,” 1985 Satan said. “I don’t have a plan. Nacho, you think this French guy has a second device, right?”


“Are you sure it’s the French guy? Maybe the knight came through with you and you didn’t know it…”

16th Century Satan replied, “We would have known if there was a knight around. Besides, how’d he know Nacho’s name?”

“Wait a minute,” 1985 Satan turned to Lola. “Did you say ‘imperial police’?”

“The imperial police have maintained the peace since the bloody revolution of 1985!” Lola shouted. “Long may Emperor James and the Knights of Saint John reign our glorious land!”

We were all silent for a moment, staring at Lola.

Finally, I spoke. “Well, I’ll be raped by my own severed cock.”

“James is your friend, right? He writes for the page, too?” 1985 Satan muttered.


“The Knights of Saint John?” 16th Century Satan asked.

Lola smiled, “The glorious honor guard of Emperor James and his team of 100 astrological advisors. The Knights are god-like fighters and…” her voice dropped to a breathy whisper, “…powerful men.” Her left eye twitched for a moment, then she continued. “Our empire is threatened by anarcho-communist heathens such as yourselves, who hail from the Wasteland Forbidden Zone. The glorious Emperor James has promised to eradicate you and place a large, black Cadillac in every garage.”

“She really does have nice breasts.” 1985 Satan muttered after a moment.

“She does this washing of the hair thing,” I said, “it’s amazing. I find her irresistible. Not like Jezebel. Jezebel punches me when I don’t cum. I mean, hard. And she kept me chained up in her kitchen one day and forced me to bake brownies.”


“Yeah, Jezebel’s kind of dangerous when she gets her rum on.”

“Why didn’t you cum…?”

“That’s…that’s not important.”

“Well, it sounds like she could rock your world, I mean –”

“It’s not important!”

“Would you two pull yourselves together!” 16th Century Satan shouted. “Look, let’s grab the time machine and go somewhere safe!”

Lola’s eyes widened and she stood up, her eyes moving to the coffee table and the time machine. “You have the holy artifact? The time machine of the sacred apostles Dave and Tony!”

1985 Satan blinked, “We, uh, have a time machine, yes…”

“It is very dangerous.” Lola whispered. “Emperor James has said that if we ever find it, we must never touch it. It will burn the flesh from our bones. Just as the banned writings of Nacho Sasha will do if we ever read them.”


“Look lady, relax.” 1985 Satan moved over and gently pushed Lola back into the couch, “This isn’t the same machine.”

I heard a rattling behind me and I turned to see Pitty Pat descend from the bookshelf, walk over to the coffee table, then leap up next to the machine. With a green-eyed glance in my direction, she calmly placed a paw on the keypad.

Lola stood again, “Pitty Pat! No!”

“Christ on the moon!” I lunged towards the table as Pitty Pat began frantically pounding the keypad with her paw.

“Someone stop that goddamned –” 1985 Satan started to yell.

Then we were absorbed in the grey-blue light, the rushing sounds around us. This time, it was different. It lasted for several minutes. The globe of light in which we were trapped became warm, then cold. I began to feel ill as everything around me drifted into a smooth, numbing darkness.

I awoke in the grass, staring up at a bright blue sky. The air was shockingly clean and a thin layer of dew covered my body. I tried to sit up, but the world began to spin and I decided to just stay in place. Somewhere near me, Lola was weeping. Then I heard one of the Satans curse to himself. Finally, my manservant’s hands reached under my shoulders and helped me sit up.

We were in a clearing, surrounded by primordial forest on all sides. Strange birds wheeled overhead and the smell of campfires drifted on the breeze, but there was no sign of other people.

16th Century Satan picked up the time machine, glaring hatefully at Pitty Pat cat, who sat calmly watching us.

“Past or future?” I asked.

He looked at the display. “Future.”

“Really?” I looked around. “How far?”

16th Century Satan glanced sideways at me. “Do you really want to know?”

1985 Satan helped Lola to sit up and she fell into his arms, still shaken. Then the underbrush parted and, all around us, women in primitive clothing appeared. They carried bows and spears, homemade hatchets and slings. All of them were tall and powerful looking.

“The future?” I asked.

“And what a future it is,” 16th Century Satan muttered.

“Who are you?” the leader asked.

“That’s interesting,” 16th century Satan looked at the time machine again. “English is intact after a hundred thousand years.”

“How many years?”

“Do you really want me to repeat it?”

“Gra-Schar!” the leader of the women barked. Another woman stepped forward and saluted. “Kill these heathens and take control of their possessions.”

Lola renewed her weeping. She pulled away from 1985 Satan and turned towards the leader of the group. “No, please,”

The leader gasped and the women around us began to murmur and step backwards. Then, one by one, they fell to their knees.

“Mistress Lola,” the leader said, “She who speaks for God. We are your humble servants.”

Pitty Pat cat sidled up next to me, rubbing her face on my leg. Then I heard a small voice, just barely a whisper. A woman’s voice. “I think you’ll like it here.”

I looked down and Pitty Pat winked at me.

Then, I was told later, I fainted dead away.