The New Testicle VII: The Trip, part one
This book was written by Nohj while he was on a serious trip. The translators have tried to put it in some semblance of order, and therefore have completely rewritten the original text keeping only Nohj’s ideas. Okay… Now, this is the last book of The Boble… I mean, the last thing we’ll ever write for The Boble… So get really psyched. It’s all over…
Wow. Anyway, this should be fun.
The Trip: Chapter One
It was a typical day in Smiley, Alabama when Nohj, who had been visiting (and sleeping) with his cousin Tammy ordered the lunchtime special. Yes, that’s right, when the cheeseburger was served, Nohj discreetly took out his bag of special mushrooms and placed them on the burger. Then he wrote letters and devoured the burger. He wrote a letter to Asia before he got high, and it went something like:
To the churches in all those Asian lands. How are you? My name is Nohj and I really don’t know who the hell you are…but I thought that I should write anyway. I read about you cheesers in the Almanac and figured: “What the hell, if they can speak English, why not write them?” So…uh…I’m writing you.
Do you duders know about Bob Jr? I bet you do. He’s this cool guy, and you should really embrace his ways or else you may die. Hell… I have these dreams about communism, and Korea, and Vietnam…but…uh…nevermind.
Anyway, look into Bob Jr. There’s literature all over the place. Whoa… I feel like…whoa…
And so Nohj put down his pen and tried to clear his head. He was really losing it. He looked up, and saw that the waitress had turned into a huge, nude, penguin with the fiercest yellow eyes one could imagine. Nohj, in a panic, rose up from his chair screaming “PENGUINS!!” and stumbled blindly outside.
But the town had changed. The storefronts were now rolling and moving – a fluid blackness which enveloped reality.
“Shit,” Nohj muttered, “bad mushrooms…”
Then everything went wrong.
(Note: Nohj switched to first person for the rest of this account.)
I ran from the town as fast as I could, but I was fol¬lowed by loudspeakers blaring out the theme song to Hawaii 5-0. It was rather nice, ac¬tually. If I had had a cup of coffee and some patio furn¬iture, I probably would have sat down and enjoyed it.
Then a door to Bob Heavens (where there is some wild, out-there sausage, man) opened up and a voice said,
“Hey chummer, come on up! I’ll show you some shit which will put the fear of BOB in ya!”
At once I was caught up in an orgasm as I was raised to Bob Heavens (where there is sexually explicit sausage). A throne was standing there in Bob Heavens (where there was
“Hey kid.” BOB said dis¬tractedly. But, there he was! His leather bomber jacket was new…but cool as hell!! He wore his purple-reflective sun¬glasses better than anyone had – including Bob Jr (who was watching Green Acres in the background) – BOB’s dressy shirt and pants touched off his black, suede shoes. He looked like the coolest landlord this side of Soho.
Seated around BOB were 24 young men. Once they saw that I had seen them, they all began stomping their feet and singing the theme song to Gilligan’s Island. I mean, the whole theme – including the verse they sing at the end of each show. It was neat, as BOB led them all. Then they handed off and sung the song again in rows, starting with BOB and the others following. Oddly enough, the music in the background was from I Dream of Jeannie.
Before me, as the holy ones sang, I noticed four potatoes covered in eyes. They were looking at me! Argh! That was freaky so I stomped them all into oblivion.
As I stomped them, I no¬ticed that the floor was made of solid glass. I could see my house from here…it was neat. Well, I liked it.
Then things got serious. From out of nowhere, the `Aven¬gers’ theme song started up. The lights went purple to set the mood, and I noticed a huge beast sitting by the statue of Diana Rigg. The beast had wings and eyes and all kinds of weird shit. The creature sung out softly:
“Math homework number five, page 194-195; Three to ten, odd numbers only…”
Every time the creature said the word `odd’, the 24 young men would throw them¬selves on the floor before the Five and call out, “We’re not worthy…we’re not men…we’re no good…we’re losers!”
And then in the right hand of the Five, I saw a scroll. I was about to ask BOB just what it said, when a mighty angel came up and said through a meg¬aphone, “WHO IS WORTHY TO OPEN THE SCROLL AND BREAK ITS SEALS?”
But no one answered. I wept because I wanted to know what the damn thing said, then one of the young men said unto me, “Don’t cry ya pussy. We saw that one coming.”
Then I saw a wolf standing before me, and the wolf trans¬formed into Bob Jr – The Wolf of BOB. And Bob Jr, dusting his trenchcoat off, placed a cassette tape into the throne of BOB. And, suddenly, the Art of Noise version of `Peter Gunn’ began blasting out from all sides. I watched as he approached the angel.
The angel said, “MYSTERY GUEST: STEP FORWARD AND SIGN IN PLEASE!”
And so Bob Jr stepped for¬ward and said, “My name is Bob Jr and I’m gonna open this damn thing!”
And there was much clap¬ping and roo-roo-how-hows!
Then Bob Jr took the scroll and broke open the first six seals. He slowly opened the first one, and I briefly glimpsed a white motorcyclist ride behind the throne and dive off the edge to plummet down to Earth.
“Wait a minute,” I said, “is this really Bob Heavens (where there is pointless plot explanations and sausage)?”
An elder leaned close, “This is the highest spot in Bob Heavens (where there are signs saying `try our general store!’ and sausage).”
“Wow….okay, go on.” I said.
And so Bob Jr opened the second seal, the white motorcy¬clist (it was a Harley) returned and I noticed that he was wearing a crown. He seemed like a real asshole, but he still introduced himself, “Hi,” he said, “I’m a rider of the apocalyptic storm. You’ll get to see a lot of me when Hitler rises to power and the nuclear war of 2025 gets real hot.”
Ooh…I didn’t like this guy.
Then the second seal was answered by another motorcyclist, who rode in upon a red motorcycle and bore a great sword. “Hey there,” he said (he was a large, bearded man with a scar running from his temple to his…foot), “I’m a rider of the apocalyptic storm. I’m responsible for war and violent deaths in general. You Nohj?”
“Uh…” I was on the verge of passing out.
Then the third seal was broken and a thick mist rose up. I could hear a third mo¬torcycle, and the other two riders cheering. Then, from out of the mist, a huge black motorcycle passed through and stopped right in front of me. The rider wore a black, leather trenchcoat, blue jeans, and a polo shirt. His hair was cut short, and he was chewing on some tobacco. He grimaced, and reached out to grab my hand. I noticed that his hands were gloved with leather enforcer gloves. You know – the kind with lead in them. I was in a little bit of pain during the whole handshake sequence.
Then the rider sniffed me, “You been taking shit, boy? You been doing drugs?”
“Who…who are you?” I stammered.
The rider stood up straight, “Officer Malorn; police. NARC. Angel of famine and justice. Rider of the apocalyptic storm. Hi.”
“Justice?” I gasped, “I was under the impression that the apocalyptic angels were all associated with death, war, and overall destruction.”
Officer Malorn smiled, “That’s what I said…justice.”
I was a little taken aback, “Oh…but…uh…”
“Don’t worry about it,” Malorn said, “I just added Justice to start an argument. I’m just an angel of famine. Say… I have my eyes on Africa… Well, hell, just about anyone under the Tropic of Cancer really.”
I was having problems taking this. I simply nodded as my brain shorted out.
And then Bob Jr opened the fourth seal, and here was the clincher. A green motorcycle came in bearing the angel of death. Now, it wasn’t the fact that this was death incarnate. It was the fact that he looked so upset. He looked dissatisfied, and I can understand why. Death never got a vacation. I immediately sympathized with him, and promised myself that (while I was up here with BOB and all) I’d try and put in my two cents concerning immortality.
Then BOB said, “Go unto one quarter of the Earth and screw it over something awful!”
And so the cyclists dove off and went to Earth. I noticed that they chose a goodly portion of the Eastern Hemisphere upon which to wreak their havoc. Russia…China…India…a bit of Eastern Europe… Korea… Then they spilled over into Indonesia and started performing deeds I could not bring myself to watch.
Then Bob Jr broke open the fifth seal, and I saw Pain, and Ambition, and all of the martyrs. They were all there…all of my old friends. But they had been transfigured into angry spirits, and they clamored for revenge. But Bob Jr calmed them, and told them to watch as revenge was forced upon their brethren below. We all watched the destruction of the Earth for a few minutes, and then Bob Jr opened the sixth seal. The Earth below shook violent¬ly, and the sun turned black as really old orange juice. Then the moon turned to blood and dripped down the horizon. That was rather impressive.
Then the stars in the sky fell, and there went much of the Earth. The sky vanished. The islands sunk, and the moun¬tains crumbled. We all watched as the people of Earth – no matter how different in race, creed, status, or belief – hid together in caves. They had all realized that they were idiots and this was it. So they just sat around and played card games, awaiting their de¬mise.
After this I saw four servants of BOB standing at the four corners of the Earth holding the tails of the four winds. They were about to destroy the Earth after BOB collected all of his money, and sent his angels forth unto the people of the Earth to stamp them. You see, those who were always loyal to BOB would be spared if they had this tattoo of Mistress EVE put on their butts. And so it was: Twenty thousand decent men and women from Northern America were chosen. A number of do-gooders in Central and South America. A large number of geologists and environmental scien¬tists. Many parkland officials and everyone who actively partici¬pated in the aid and preservation of rainforests or endangered animals. Dolphin researchers by the droves were stamped, and every Native American Indian was stamped. The Dali Lama was stamped, and all those who believe in him and his cause. In essence, the innocent and productive individuals of the world (a total of 808,808 men and women) were spared when the four winds were unleashed upon the world. And these chosen ones rose up peacefully to Bob Heavens (where there is chosen sausage) and were delivered unto a fertile and beautiful new world orbiting the star known as Sirius.
Then Bob Jr broke open the seventh seal, and there was silence for half an hour. We all went out and got some coffee, talked about politics (BOB was an excellent conversationalist), and enjoyed ourselves.
Then we returned to the throne room, and I saw seven angels take up seven dulcimers. The seven angels were ready to play the seven dulcimers.
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