Last we saw Peter and Paul they were dead. Peter had been skewered by a giant demon’s sword in attempt to save the Nightmare Princess and Paul had run off with the Queen of Eternal Darkness to indulge in various sex games involving foreign objects until through such bondage activity he had met his own demise. Now, they have been dug up and cast thousands of years into the future by a sadistic witch who controls the world and are once again caught up in yet another unfathomable predicament that proves once again that you never get what you pay for and there is no such thing as a free lunch or something along those lines:

        Paul was on a metallic catwalk at the computer trying to unlock the valve that would suck all of the fairies with the television heads back into their vault. It took some programming. Given that Paul wasn’t raised in this era didn’t help much. Unfortunately for them, Robert the Romanian Robot went insane earlier in the day and was now running amuck on a platform twelve feet below squealing like an invalid as he dashed in circles holding the pass-key up in his hand like he was chasing it.
        “Eeeeeeeeeeeeee!” He cried. It was rather annoying.
        The fairies with the television heads were stuck on a bad channel and they were becoming extremely violent. Also unfortunate for Peter and Paul was that in his other hand Robert also held the remote control for all of their stations and was chasing that around as well when he wasn’t avidly pursuing the pass-key.
        “Eeeeeeeeeeeee!”
        And if that weren’t enough, for some inexplicable reason two dancers from Prodigy were busting loose in the middle of the floor. Peter did not know how they got there or what they were doing there but it appeared that somehow they came out of the fairies, so God knows what would come next. Time was running out. The bomb display showed that it was only a matter of minutes now before the whole place blew up like Justin Bieber’s career.
        “Jesus, Paul! Can’t you think any faster? It’s getting pretty tight in here!” Peter shouted as he swung the long neck of the vacuum around trying to bash what fairies he could into extinction. The vacuum also fell out of a screen that was a fairy’s head, or at least that was the basic assumption. Peter was starting to think that they would never get out of the cavernous dungeon they were in filled with wires, vents, unknown machinery, bombs, fairies, insane robots. They obviously had chosen the wrong way into the Electric Messiah’s pool party mansion but that was due to utterly poor planning and the hallucinogenic cauliflowers served for dinner at Monty’s Trisexual Bistro.
        “I’m trying! I really don’t know how to do this! Do you know how to do this?! How do we always end up in this type of situation?”
        “You mean trying to escape a death-hole filled with fairies with TV’s for heads while our insane robot obliviously chases around our only means as escape as the bomb ticks closer to our doom?”
        “Yeah, something like that?”
        “I don’t know, Man, I thought we were dead.”
        “We were dead! Now we’re fucked…Again!” Paul said at almost a scream. He turned and froze as he watched a fairy hover at the end of the catwalk looking like it was about to vomit something out from TV land. They started to vibrate when this happened and that was exactly what this little critter was doing. Paul couldn’t help but wonder what was going to come out this time.
        “Peter…incoming!” Paul shouted down at his friend, who appeared to have joined in with the Prodigy dancers now that a new beat rolled in. The music was coming from everywhere, mingling with the erratic television sounds coming from the fairies and of course: ‘Eeeeeeeeeeee!’.
        The bomb counting down, a high-pitched beat per second, was loudest of all. Don’t want you fellows to forget!
        Peter looked up to see the fairy spew out a rather large man a mask dressed in a non-descript uniform holding a really dull sword. He just seemed to be standing there staring at Paul, who was nervously glancing back when he wasn’t trying to hopelessly figure out the machine in front of him.
        “He doesn’t look much for conversation.” Peter shouted up.
        “What’s that?” Paul asked, not able to hear him over everything.
        “It’s a hockey mask.” The Prodigy dancer with the mad-scientist hair said.
        “He said it’s a hockey mask.” Peter said.
        “That sounds dirty! What’s he holding?” Paul returned.
        “A chainsaw!” The dancer replied, then began to cackle erratically. With all his heavy mascara he reminded Peter of Bowflex, the nihilistic elf they had befriended on their travels.
        “Did you hear that, Paul?”
        “Yeah, but I don’t know what that is!” Paul seemed on the edge of a nervous breakdown and Peter couldn’t blame him. Paul wasn’t used to being the man in the center of the action and was therefore ready to run at the slight provocation, or any further for that matter. The man was still standing there too, that could be tense. Peter didn’t know what to think of him.
        “Are you a nice man?” Paul asked the silent giant. The man removed his mask to reveal a horribly disfigured and burnt face. He spit out a slug then stepped on it and placed the mask back over his head. He started up his chainsaw.
        “Peter, I think something really bad is about to happen to me!” Paul shouted, his voice cracking with anxiety.
        “Just stall him!” Peter returned as he was in the middle of a new move and it looked like the dancers were really into it.
        “Oh God! Oh no!” Paul screamed as the masked giant brought his chainsaw up and began to run at Paul.

© 2012 Hernan J Monzon