The Karmora Papers

Chapter Fourteen


The necroplayer was coaxing long-templost tunes from the ForeCentury "electronic ogan" in Time-Floss 14 as Oblivion Central Computatime interrupted with the decoded message from Saturn.

‘If this is true,’ thought Bob, ‘then we have but a moment, one moment -- this moment -- to lose!’

Just that very moment later, he fed the OCC message through the Time-Floss controls, and thousands of Preserved Entities around him snorted reverse-nasally in their preservation-mode sleep.

One, however, arose. With her newly installed light aura unit aglow, she strode forward through the panel to the controls, brushing momentarily against the astonished Pflud, who was rooted to her W/Chair. Bob wheeled around, but his reactions were no match for the insensed Treflin Karmora, First Order Emissary of the InterMutant Galactic Associated Malpractice League.

He melted into a bowl of what could only be described as Mu-Mother’s Ano-Chicken Proto-Soup. Treflin ate hungrily, while heartily drubbing both the necroplayer and his electric ogan.

A series of insistent blurms from the Scramble-o-phon irritated her, and she licked that machine until it spluttered to a quiet. Treflin began ripping panels from the walls, heads from Preserved Entities (much to their nasal displeasure), and leaves from Pflud until finally she found what she needed in Pflud’s stump: the last remaining Sensory Seven pills--hidden only since the system was cancelled that morning!

"Mgrpf," she clamored.

Pflud understood, as she humbly gathered her branches for a nice fire. Only when Treflin Karmora had slipped under the effect of the Sensory Seven did the emissary fully accept the significance of the galactic happenings -- Terra overrun, the Wadks expelled from Unicommand and out of digestive control, Mad Luigi about to reach his unbeknownst betrothed Quand 12 in interstellar space, and all those government officials whose heads she had shredded.

"Mgrpf," she thought, looking at the tattered astroblimp schedule. Surely she could catch the next blimp, which would telekine to Mokus 5 ahead of both the unattractive interlopers!

Treflin hurried to the astroblimp, settled into the reserved VIP W/Chair, and was about to switch off her light aura unit when ahead of her she saw emblazoned on 40 large novawood crates:

Treflin jostled down box after box, and soon she unearthed another set:

She felt a sick sense in the pit of her stomach. Her siblings, mu-nanobit by mu-nanobit, lay in pieces in those crates, and she would have to spend the entire astroblimp voyage consuming them. Ano-deplored incestual thoughts filled her being as she bit into the first warm Excrecracker, still fresh from the Wadk factories.

Deep in her anoanatomy she began to feel her long-dormant endo-grafted sexuality aroused, and by the second crate Treflin Karmora was violating Unicommand Ano-Emotion Decree 40: "Keep thy sibling removed from all thy orifices."

But her emancipated passions were now inexorable as she finished her sister and began to devour her brother. Cracker after cracker she shoved into her mouth, and climactic event after climactic event filled her mind and stomach! Ominously, the effect of the Sensory Seven pills began weaken, making Treflin a free agent. Her Smegophone flashed a desperate message through Intime Computagraph 18 to Oblivion Central: "Reprocess."

And in a flash seven Femiclones surrounded her with Molecular Mutation Miserizers, firing their mudguns in unison until Treflin fell, weary, ecstatic, terrified, scorched and happy, to the bottom of the astroblimp. A phalanx of nomo-phosphoidites replaced the expired Femiclones, who were returned to Time-Floss 3 for and flash-stimulating.

With the nomo-phosphoidite clean-up complete, Treflin, Melin and Forsander found themselves returned to the ano-flesh, and well on their way to that historic rendezvous with Mad Luigi and Quand 12. next

The Karmora Papers is Copyright ©1976,1993,1996 by Dennis Báthory Kitsz and David Gunn. All rights reserved. If you enjoy this book, an appreciation fee of any amount may be made to Dennis Báthory-Kitsz or David Gunn at Malted/Media Productions, 176 Cox Brook Road, Northfield VT 05663.

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