BOB STORY

BOB STORY

One day, Bob woke up lying dead and naked on the floor. The Goat Woman was standing on his bed, bleating about how beautiful the spring weather was. Bob tried to move, but his wrists were bound to his ankles with leather straps.

Bob sighed.

"Not again," he said to himself.

Then some people laughed, and suddenly, there were many flashing lights and moving spotlights, followed by a series of still photos floating in the air portraying Bob riding his mo-ped, Skippy, into a flaming slag heap - all with a smile on his face. All the while, "The Baby Elephant Walk" was playing.

But then things returned to Bobatude, and the laughter slowly died.

Bob was scratching his head against a bedpost when his Wacky Landlord burst into the room to much applause.

"Oh it's cold it's going to get colder you aren't warm enough it's cold do you want some pork from my garden," he wackily said.

"Oh, hello Wacky Landlord Character. I'm fine. I've got twenty kilos of pork in the fridge. But, umm," Bob stuttered, "could you, er, untie me?"

"Oh but it's cold you'll catch a death..."

At this minute, the Goat Woman spoke up, "Ah spring! Ah! Beautiful! Spring! Ah! Ah! Spring! Beautiful!"

Like most wacky people, Bob's landlord did not take very kindly to being contradicted. His eyes began to bulge. His forehead grew shiny and red. He began to hit himself over the head with a raw fish.

"It's cold colder it's brrrr cold is it wububu wububu."

"Spring, baaahhh, ah, spring, beautiful baaahhh."

Bob couldn't take it anymore, so he died.

When Bob woke up again, he had a hankering for some control top pantyhose and a Big Mac. Other than that, he was fine. He was just standing in front of a large group of people.

He was still naked, but at least he wasn't tied-up anymore.

"Hello," said Bob, "as I said, I am Bob."

Normally, this was enough to make anybody put down hisorher cocktail and listen. But, nobody paid any attention. Some read magazines, some wrote notes to Dearest Danny or Sexy Suzy, and others were just hunched over and generally engrossed in other matters.

"Hello," demanded Bob. "What do you want?"

The only reply Bob received was the mass chewing of sausages.

Bob didn't know what to do. He was exposing himself to these people, yet there was no reaction.

Bob decided to strip himself even more. He peeled off his skin, laughing.

"Is this what you want?! Is it?! Ha. Ha."

Bob stood there, bloody and raw.

"I beat old grannies with beef tongues!" he screamed. "My secret desire is to watch Cats! I masturbate twice a day, right after I move my bowels!"

A few people turned pages in their magazines. Somebody dropped a pen on the floor.

Suddenly, Bob's Wacky Boss threw open the door to the room.

"Bob!" yelled the Wacky Boss, "come here!"

"Hello, Wacky Boss. But, I'm, ummm, working."

"Aren't we all. Anyway, come here."

Bob cautiously moved closer. Often, wacky people could be dangerous if one got too close and ran into their wackiness.

In one hand, Bob's Wacky Boss held a jar of mayonnaise and a very large smoked carp in the other.

"Bob," Bob's Wacky Boss said, dipping the carp into the mayonnaise and taking a bite, "Bob, I want you to take these pairs of underwear and plant me a red rose garden with them."

"But, but, I can't."

"Bob, you are going to take these undies and do as I say."

Bob tried to die, but his Wacky Boss stopped him. So instead, Bob went to his office. It was a lot like death, only more crowded.

When Bob got there, his Wacky Vampire Colleague was already in the office.

"Hello, Bob," he hissed, filing his inch-long fingernails to a point. "Have you heard the delicious news?"

"Oh, hello Wacky Vampire Colleague. Which news?"

Wacky Vampire Colleague licked his lips and said, "We get to make a red rose garden out of underwear. Isn't that the height of wackiness? I love it! I can't wait!" he exclaimed, rubbing his thumb and middle finger together.

"Yes," acquiesced Bob, "quite wacky."

Just then, Bob's Wacky German Colleague burst into the office. He ran up to Bob, grabbed him by the shoulders, and shook him.

"HE-LO! HE-LO!" he shouted. Then he ran to the other side of the office, ate a coffee cup, quickly combed his hair, sprayed binaca in his mouth, and ran out the door.

As the Wacky German Colleague was leaving, Bob's Wacky German Cat Colleague slinked in, licked her hands, and left.

"Oh ho ho," laughed the Wacky Vampire Colleague, "this is so wacky it makes me hungry."

With that, he reached into a cage of rats and pulled one out.

Bob decided it was a good time to die.

When Bob woke up again, he felt that his time was limited. His last life had been quite long, so now he only had a page or so left. But he still had the urge to drink a six-pack of beer and drive a new car.

Bob was in the grocery store now. The aisles were lined with various dehydrated meals of pork in sauce. The store was populated by silent witches riding their carts at top speed, laughing demons gnawing on human skulls and quaffing hellfire, and finally a pack of gnashing chiuauas with heads the size of an elephant's.

Bob pushed his cart down the aisles.

"Cream sauce...carrot sauce...pickle sauce...water sauce. I just wish they had something without pork in it," he muttered.

Then, chancing to pass the deli counter, Bob overheard the voice of an angel.

"Half a pound of turkey, please," it sang out with all the glory of Heaven's trumpets.

Bob turned around and stared, and Lo! he did behold an angel, made up of various parts and wearing white pants and a white t-shirt on which was written "JANE" in black block letters.

"Jane," Bob said.

"Bob," Jane said.

They fell into each otherís arms and died, as the names of a cast of thousands were scrawled across their bodies.

Many people sighed.


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