SPACE NOIR BAR, Mike Marino [good e books to read .txt] 📗

the G-Spot Ghetto as it was also known, along with the battle stench of the human Toho dead who didn’t move fast enough to dodge a bullet.

It was now or never. We had to act fast. It was a golden opportunity  to penetrate the Labia’s outer and inner wall that acted as protection and a stronghold..perhaps “penetrate the labia” is a poor choice of words but it seemed to fit our precarious situation. We had to go into invisible Ninja mode. I’ve been a Ninja before in my life and wasn’t about to start with all the Bruce Lee stealth movements this late in the game.

We found a location in the wall near the wide expanse of the Urethra Franklin Boulevard
were rebel Labias would enter and leave, in and out,  unnoticed by the guards. The hidden entrance was called the Rabbit Hole,  and you had to be as mad as a hatter to go in there under the present circumstances, but seeing as being killed by our other competitors for the Falcon seemed our only other option, and we opted to follow an imaginary rabbit into the  Rabbit Hole and begin our adventures in Revolution Wonderland with a full rebel army of notorious victorious clitoris at our disposal. Chapter 19 - The Ninth Gate of Hell

As we entered the devastated carcass of a once vibrant section of the city known as the Kotex Vortex, I was stunned by the ruin that surrounded us, an unholy urban halo of destruction, the odor of the rotting flesh of the dead on both sides of a hundred hit and run battles, good versus evil, and the dance of flames emerging, doing a fandango amidst the collapsed rubble consuming what was inside as fast as books could burn at Farenheit 451.

Once lively buildings, leveled in many cases, some emaciated resembling a lost work of art by an ancient artist named Picasso, famous for placing on canvas an ear where an eye should be and juxtaposing a penis in place of a brain. Two heads to his amazing talent were better than one, and frankly I tend to favor the advice I get from my below the belt brain, although it has been the cause of contention on numerous occasions.

The muffled “thump brump” rumble of ongoing laser artillery created a fantastic faux lunar landscape of rubble in an attempt to crush the revolt bringing it to it’s knees, genuflecting to the government, but, to no avail. In fact, it fed the freedom fighting frenzy with an increasing vehemence and hunger for revenge and victory among the PMS driven felonious female felons of the Kotex Vortex’s  Labian Underground.

Sporadic Labian sniper fire was being returned in exchange with the Toho Death Squads with hit or miss results as we crouched low in the darkened city section wending our way to the relative safety of the rebel headquarters.  As we nervously kept out of harm’s way, I couldn’t help mulling over in my head the puzzling parting words of Narco. “Find the Rabbit and you’ll find the Falcon!” Was it the fat man’s attempt at some crazy Zen one hand clapping crap? A punchline by a cheap comic at an improv club? Or...did it actually have meaning and merit?

I repeated the words over and over, in an attempt to make sense of it under my breath, quietly, yet audible to Poontang and Sappho. Poontang tossed me a literary life preserver as I was a man overboard and over my head in such strange and surreal waters in the kotex vortex of a female led revolution on a planet  that had nothing to do with me.

“The Rabbit, Doc, is a person...not a thing,” she began. Damn I loved when she called me Doc I could feel the sexual gap closing causing  our sexual ignitions to spark. “The Rabbit is the codename for the Labian leader.” Now we were adding  more confusion on top of an already confusing situation, codenames always threw me a curveball and now….bang….here was another one.

“Why “The Rabbit”? I queried in a haggard, tired voice, to which Strangelove enlightened the buddha in me as one of her hidden multiple personalities made itself known. Her voice deepened accompanied by a staccato rat-ta-tat-tat Galactic Gatling Gun speech pattern vaguely familiar.  She escaped capture and disappeared along with what was left of her fighting force to a place and space that was not just another brick hole in the wall. In fact, it’s hard to find. It’s called the Kotex Vortex and is a vortex of a different color of space and time. Enter it and you are in a completely different dimension. One  not only of sight and sound but one of space and time. This dimension beyond that which is known to man. It is a dimension as vast as space and as timeless as infinity. It is the middle ground between light and shadow, between science and superstition, and it lies between the pit of man's fears and the summit of his knowledge. This is the dimension of imagination. It is an area which we call the Kotex Vortex!”
My Gawd it was Rod Serling with a vagina!!! Poontang inserted as if to punctuate matters, “They named it “The Rabbit Hole and she was named, The Rabbit. Understand?”


“Why not Lady Godiva,” I replied with a smile.  “I like that one in fact. Yeah, Lady Godiva, that’s it.” The faltered joke did not play well with my two feminist companions. Let’s face it, I had taken too many punches in the head and besides, I was bushed and beat and still hungover noticing my last comment went over as well as Elvis death jokes in Memphis.

I keep telling myself, someday I’ll got to haul my ass into  rehab if the urge to place  myself in a state of mental urban renewal ever overcomes  my desire to tranq myself into my normal sated state of mental urban decay. I didn’t want to chance Retropolin police state hospitalization. Next thing you know I’d be fighting other patients in the shower and  one night wake up startled facing a giant Indian standing over me with a pillow while Native American  flute music came out of nowhere.


At this conversation juncture sexy Strangelove chimed in. “She started the revolt inadvertently, through her public speaking against Erotobtization of females, arrested by the authorities, then released, but felt she had a mission, an obligation to follow as  Erotibotization increased and more females were rounded up unwillingly from the solar system.”

As we crossed the war zone, this woman, this rebellious Rabbit, began to take shapely shape and come into machete sharp focus as clear as a set of night vision binoculars aimed at the night time bedroom of a female exhibitionist masturbating under the glow of a faded yellowing street lamp that served as a night light for street hookers in old broken Hoboken.  

Sappho described her with what I felt was a stimulated  appreciative tone that hadn’t gone unnoticed by Poontang either. She was, according to Sappho’s description,  a Venus de Milo prick teaser with a gorgeous set of super legs, a voluptuous expansive chest ready to explode in a volcanic eruption of heaving cleavage with a bikini wax look south of her border. Unlike the Venus statue..she also had two arms. An anatomical bonus!

Christ, I was ready for a second coming. She sounded like the eighth sexual wonder of the world. An iconic beauty complete and replete with  combat skills that would make a Navy Seal look like a wimp. She also had  a mastery of martial arts that Mr. Miyagi would be proud of, not to mention a knock down drag out sexy rear-end that could only be described as Mounds of Joy with breasts that could double as two of the finest pinnacles of the Colorado Rockies, perfect for climbing to plant your flag on her mighty twin peaks.

On the sexual battlefield apparently she was one hell of a frisky fondle of perfect body proportions. She could attract a female as well as a male and anything in between, and there were plenty of those around from the ORSON Orwellian Outpost in the Sansa Belt Action Zone.

She was a female Madame Ovary, bored with mundane day to day living with a cause that lit the fires of indignation in her causing the release of  a fierce Virginia Woolfe energy burst that would destroy everything in her path.  She was a Napoleonic military strategist who gained cult rebel status of iconic proportions and she appeals to both genders.  I couldn’t wait to meet this rebel with a sexual cause sporting a three speed Atomic Hip and Thigh Thruster, yet,  I couldn’t help imagining her as an Erotibot either, chauvinist dog that I am.



Find the Rabbit and you find the Falcon. Now it made sense...the Rabbit had the Falcon and everyone who wanted it wanted to find her as well. Paybacks are a bitch. I also got the impression that Poontang and Ms. Strangelove  wanted to find this Rabbit, but for different reasons that now became clear.

What was clear was that the  Rabbit had gone underground...deep underground and we all had something to lose if we failed...our lives perhaps. We finally  arrived amidst the shelling at the  Labian headquarters.  We were about to enter and go down the rabbit hole. As we forced the damaged door open I couldn’t help pondering...how the hell did Poontang and Strangelove know about the emergency entrance and exit to the Kotex Vortex? It was a secret right? How could Strangelove describe her in such detail from rumor and hearsay, with Poontang assenting to its perceived authenticity? So many questions...no answers. Either way, she was a remarkable feminist and rebel leader from all accounts. Find the Rabbit and you’ll find the Falcon..find the Rabbit and you’ll find the Falcon..it was now clear and simple. I was either about  fall into a bizarre wonderland or open the door that led to the Ninth Gate of Hell…

Chapter 20 - Red Zeppelin

 

I had to blast the old rusted lock off the imposing studded steel door of the former lesbian headquarters with my trusty Link Wray Ray Gun the most powerful handgun of the solar day and lunar night complete with a deadly DOA vapor disintegration setting. The weapon was designed and developed for limited use over 30 years ago by an arms scientist