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 HellPizza: An alt.tasteless Classic (Parts III & IV)Posted 02.18.2005 by Swan (21)
Did you read Parts I and II? You really, really should.
PART THE TURD... er THIRD! Christmas Day! It was with great delight that we spent the day doing very little. I watched some TV, Karen worked on the 'puter, Delsie dozed. Around two in the afternoon, the dog began her little "wanna go out" dance, and so I picked up her lead. "C'mon, Girl, wanna go for a walk?" I asked. No need to ask twice -- she was dancing and patting, wagging and waiting at the door. In fact, there seemed to be a slight edge to her movements... a certain urgency... I harnessed her and out we went. Delsie's guidework is interesting. During the day, when I can see a bit better, she slacks off, traveling at a lazy pace. At night, she snaps to and works diligently, knowing that my life is in her capable paws. Today she hauled on the leather as if she were heading to a fire. Grimly I hung on, reminded of the days at guide school when she was fresh, hot, and eager to go, and I was massaging my calves and wondering what I had got myself into. I could almost HEAR the instructor behind me now: "Follow your DOG, Swan!" We reached her usual spot and I unstrapped her harness and lead. Gratefully she dashed onto the grass and began twirling! Usually she circles lazily, nosing each blade to find The Spot. This time she spun dizzily, halted, spun the other way, reached back and bit at the base of her tail and spun again before crouching, hobbling forward, jumping up to spin again. Whatever ails that dog? I wondered. Finally she groaned, stuck her tail straight out, squatted and began to grunt. Slowly her ass began to protrude slightly, then contract, protrude and contract. The pointed nose of a huge grogan began to emerge -- the largest I had ever seen her shit! She nearly lost her balance. She braced her forepaws and began to heave and strain. Belatedly I thought of the giant grogan I had fed her this very morning. Oh no! Had I KILLED my lovely young golden retriever?! HOW would I explain this to the SCHOOL??? I studied my whimpering dog. Mental headlines played behind my eyes. "GUIDE DOG KILLED BY MASSIVE TURD. Owner sought for questioning." The huge grogan began to emerge. Delsie tried to look and see her tormentor, but could not turn and squat at the same time. Finally the monster slid from her rectum and landed with a heavy thud in the grass. Del yelped as it left her body and hopped forward in pain. She circled and sniffed at the huge monster. It was massive, greasy, and studded with walnuts and pepperoni rinds. The sharp scent of pepperoni filled our noses. The HellPizza had returned! She then daintily trotted to my side as if to say, "I can't have done THAT!" We reharnessed as my neighbor and her Great Dane arrived for their stroll. As Delsie began to quickly lead me away from the spot, I saw from the corner of my eye the big dog begin to lick at the massive steaming turd. I was about to call out a warning to the woman, but her back was turned, not watching Sugar, her dog. "What the hell," I murmured to myself. "That'll make THREE alimentary canals that HellPizza's gone through... and I'll STILL be able to see the pepperoni rinds! Damn!" I heard the slobbery sounds of a huge mouth finishing the last of the feculent Christmas dainty. And although it is too much of a coincidence, I do believe that today, as we went for an outing in the neighborhood, I saw Delsie gazing in alarm at one of the biggest dog turds we had ever seen. Could it...? Naaaah! But it DID seem faintly redolent of garlic, and... naaaaah!
As the saying goes: that was then, this is NOW! The Delster and I have been blessed with a visitation! Recently, I noticed (amid frantic key pounding) that it was Time to Take the Dog Out again. Del showed her usual eagerness to go to that favored spot, a grassy knoll (no, not THE Grassy Knoll!) near our palatial hovel. Thither she fared in search of the Perfect Place to Piss. I am of the firm belief that ley lines -- mysterious scents, electromagnetic atmospheric forces, and tidal shifts -- are a determining factor, as the Spot shifts about regularly. Where once was the Ultimate Tuft now reposes The Ground Not To Be Peed On Ever! Back and forth, she roamed, and forth and back. As she searched, her bladder near to bursting, I noticed a particularly FAMILIAR pile of feces... It had a greasy cast to it, and there were tiny flaccid bits that MIGHT have been much-traveled pepperoni rind. But most notable was what nestled cozily ATOP the mound: four perfectly formed MUSHROOMS! I gasped in wonderment. Delsie finished her ablutions and wandered over to the turd and its passenger 'shrooms. She sniffed daintily and suddenly tucked her tail and backed away, whining softly. She remembered! I then KNEW what I must do. Gingerly, I approached the now shriveled -- but still monstrous in size -- grogan containing the malevolent remains of the HellPizza. The sprouting mushrooms were fawn, full grown with reticulated markings and delicate frills about the edges of the caps. Full off-white fleshy stalks held them proudly aloft. Carefully, I put my hand under the rim of one of the great disks and lifted. It came away from the turd with a soft sound. The roots were intact! Flecks of fecal matter decorated the fibrils at the end. I took the plastic bag I carry about in case Delsie has to do "the other" and dropped my prize inside. The other three came up with equal ease. We returned to Swanage. Once home, I examined my treasures. Full, firm and young, these were the 'shrooms of doom! They smelled distinctly of garlic and pepperoni. One is now sliced and lying in a salad keeper to grace my greens tonight. What DREAMS I shall have! One has been lovingly re-planted in my garden. It will continue to grow turbid, round and fat. And where, you ask, is the remaining pair? Ah, my faithful reader, I shall tell you. I cleaned and examined my find and took the very finest for breeding. The next-finest I shall eat with fava beans and a light Chianti (sorry, couldn't resist!). The brace of fungi with which I was left were carefully filleted and placed in a Tupperware container. To get to Golden Gate Park takes two buses in San Francisco. I harnessed Delsie and went up to catch the J-Church tram. We rode to the edge of Dolores Park and caught the 33 over the rise to Haight and Stanyan. There we disembarked and walked the three blocks to a certain shop. The cashier was easily distracted by my beautiful accomplice in harness; she wagged and wriggled as he petted and made much of her. Meanwhile, I opened the Tupperware box. I had seconds to act. I glanced once more on the dainty white slices of 'shroom and then I slid them from their plastic home into a bin with hundreds of other slices of mushroom. My task done, I took Delsie's harness handle in my hand. "Forward!" I cried, and we sailed jauntily away from the Wayside Pizza Store -- the HOME of the ORIGINAL HellPizza! They say that all life is a great circle. I am beginning to believe it. Reverently, Swan First published in alt.tasteless back around 1986. Post new comment
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