"Faux, my love," said Elixir De Krycek, "like I told you, you look good in
chaps, but next time, wear the pants too."
Scowling, Faux Marbles rubbed some more Aloe Vera on his rosy-red ass and
went off to see if the chef had served the soup as yet. A snicker greeted him
and he saw Little Jeff Spender, an odd sight himself in his short pants and
cowboy boot. Jeff had only one boot because he had been playing footsie with
his buddy, Brian "the brain" Pendrell. Jeff resumed whistling "Rawhide" as
soon as Faux had passed. Faux turned and said, "Jeffy, how would you like
your father to know exactly how his password was sent to the Lady's
Temperance and Antismoking Campaign?"
Jeff blanched and said, "Uh, no problem, Faux, I was just telling Pendy
about a movie, swear to God."
The harmonious and regular clanking of spurs announced the arrival of the
trail-boss, even more of an archetype than Faux Marble was. Walter Skinherd
was one of those men who cast a giant shadow. Okay, maybe it was because he
paid special effects to run a spotlight on him at all times, but, hey, a
man's got to do what a man got to do. Anyway, he was tall, virile, who knew
how many of the wild sperm that ran rampant out there were his? This was a
man among men, which always leads to the curious question, so what was he in
a crowd of women?
Skinner straddled a stump, which blushed all the way to its root at the
compliment. He folded his arms and sternly eyed his crew. They were a
rag-tailed bunch of vermin, especially that Elixir DE Krycek who, when asked,
produced a social security card that read, "Alias Krisis" one moment and
"Elixir DE Krycek" in the next. It didn't help that the card proved to have
been printed with Silly Putty.
Faux Marble batted his pretty eyelashes at the boss and said, "The Gonads
were wild tonight. Took a hell of a lot of rubbing to settle them down. I
remember in the city, when I was a professor of psychology, the domesticated
ones were so tame that all you would have to do is call them and they would
come. Those were the days...Damn shame; the college found out that psychology
wasn't invented yet; they kicked me right out on my academic seat.
Having heard this story a million times, Walter posed stalwartly, his best
side turned to his admiring men, his mighty thews rippling, his chest hair
flowing in the breeze, and his manly groin growing as he beheld Elixir De
Krycek sauntering into camp.
Dana S-collie, a lovely lassie, stomped in, looking small and tough, she
had a six-gun at each side and a scalpel in her teeth. She twirled her latex
lasso and said, "Those critters are might motile tonight. Suspect there might
be trouble in the horizon."
The men and the one woman ate with Gusto, (Gusto Windus, the token gimpy,
elderly spermboy, played for laughs.)
As they ate, tinny musical notes started and the side of the entertainment
wagon opened. Faux stopped eating. This was it, the high point of every
evening. Elixir De Krycek slunk onto the stage, wearing black lace stockings,
a bustier of black leather with lots of dangling chains and a black satin
Speedo with jet sequins. He sang in a badly faked German accent, one of his
long beautiful legs propped upon a stool. He stroked his leg sensually as he
warbled in a deep, sexy voice, "Come on, mister, I'm not your twisted
sister...I need a real man." (Hey, it worked for Amanda.) Strutting down the
stairs, spinning a plam like a baton, he was a glittering, glamorous picture.
He twirled his feather boa (He started out with a real one, but animal rights
had objected. Gradually, he worked the crowd, spending long moments teasing
poor old Gusto, until he ran off to add to add his feeble efforts to the herd.
Of course after teasing Skinherd, Elixir slowly ran his purple-feathered
boa up and down Faux's back. Jeffy and Pendy giggled and ran away to play the
Ferret eats the Lab-mouse under the blankets. Walter shook his head as the
wild call of the ferret plundered the land and said, "Guess Pendy found the
Ferret-hole"
S-collie grouchily retreated to her wagon where she was cloning copies of the
spermboys to be love slaves. All those little Mars symbols kept penetrating
each other instead of the somatic cells she had prepared. It figured.
Warmed by the light and heat of a Blazing Saddle, Faux Marble and Elixir De
Krycek cuddled and looked at the glowing full moon until Walter put his pants
back on and went to do what ever trail bosses do. Faux snuggled his chin into
Elixir's neck and tasted a little of his honey's glaze. "Still have the worst
parts of the trip ahead," Marble mused. "The Oral Gorge, the lower Foot
Fetish hills, and finally, Twin Buttes, where no sperm-boy had come before.
And there's untamed prophylactics out there, spermicidal maniacs, not to
mention the Fellatio of Doom."
Elixir punched him and yelled, "Faux, I told you not to mention that!"
Marble mused, "He hit me and it felt like, well, actually, it felt like a
punch."
Marble felt a wet sticky glob encounter the bare part of his leg, (all he
wore was a buckskin vest and those chaps) Looking down, he saw a little lost
sperm, poor thing, it was a premature ejaculation, cast out into the world
before it was ready to leave the vas deferens. Sighing, he said, "Get along
little doughy, you know that Y or X will be your new genome."
"Do you think S-collie was right? Do you expect trouble tonight?" Elixir
asked.
"June 30, 1908. Tungus tribesmen and Russian fur traders look up into the
southeastern Siberian sky and see a fireball streaking to Earth. When it hit
the atmosphere, it created a series of cataclysmic explosions that are
considered to be the largest single cosmic event in the history of
civilization. Two thousand times the force of the bomb that was dropped on
Hiroshima" Marble recited, squinting at the reader board in the distance.
Elixir stared at him in bewilderment until he followed dear Marble's myopic
vision. Cursing, he fired a number of shots, driving off the incompetent
script boy. "You can't get good help these days..."
Faux searched in his head for some original lines, but it was all very
confusing so he tried, "Fuck me harder?"
Elixir's face lit up and soon lkgfjs0n c ck[pksaj mm;,ew lubricant ljpj0wn
skhcw lks0ewn sljd-s,m
Nmmmariesprecum,,,,pulsinghole,,efdfehotsteamyeggreole
mdw]ewinvek;kphones;sepcfsexpebblednipplestightmuscledringsmfef
>(Immortally
hot sex scene lost to unfortunate repeated sneezing while typing.)
As they lay post-coitus, blissful, and sticky, Faux caught sight of a
magnificent stallion, his mane flowing in the breeze, his coal black tail
flicking away fireflies, seeking to light his fire.
Faux stood, wincing at the scream from his lover, who had been quite stuck
on him. Small thuds echoes as the pebbles fell off his nipples. He pointed
and said, "Elixir, I must have that horse. It is my fatal attraction, my
grail, my...uh...uh...horse of a different color."
Well, Faux was right about that! Elixir had never seen a purple horse, but
he agreed it was better to see one then be one. So, they lured it with mares,
it displayed no great interest for this was a splashy slash horse and it
never got silly with a filly, although it was no dolt with a sufficiently
mature colt. Unfortunately the spermboys, who didn't ride mare-back, all
mounted sawhorses, charley horses, and other such unlimber steeds so the trap
had no bait.
Next, they lured it with hay; but it ignored their hey with a snotty blow
of its nose. At last, Elixir put on his raiment of maiden white, adjusted his
artificial hyphen of virginity, decked his sable, chestnut, black, hair with
posies and set out to lure the stallion. Promptly, the horse came, (Come?
Cum?) Anyway, it arrived with a thunder of hooves and a negative neigh. The
horse was even more amazing close up. Not only was it purple, but also a
gentle odor of chocolate emitted from the rubbery, resilient, ribbed hide.
The noble wild stallion lay it's head in Elixir's lap and said in a horse
voice, "I just want you to know, I'm not fooled. I know you're no virgin."
Elixir smiled repeatedly, a duplicitous smile indeed. Running his hands
through the Spanish Main, chasing off several Spanish Flies, Elixir murmured,
"That's all right, because you may be horny, but you're no unicorn."
Elixir led the horse back to camp and, with a rein of triumph, he presented
the mount to his darling Faux. This, of course, was accepted and the horse
was left untended as spermboys and the spar-MS all joined in the foreplay
with mounting excitement. Each of them found his (or her) darling all except
poor Gusto who was left to his own handy-work. Soon, not a dear was roaming
and the wily stallion trotted through the foggy camp on little cat feet...and
even the resulting mewing, yowling, and hissing didn't wake the played out
crew. The horse cleverly scattered commas, which deepened their comas to an
unaccented sleep.
The herd was left untended by this unpunctuated play and the gonads pulsed
and wildly roamed. The stallion called up a might cellular phone and turned
the speaker on the already restless herd. This set them to an orgiastic rush
and they became instantly untamed. The stallion grinned. He was no horse's
ass. The call of the wild always worked when they herd. Ah, what a moaning,
ejaculation, orgiastic rush that was as the entire stampede of sperms and
gonads splattered over the plains.
Walter Skin-herd emerged from a slithering mound of his spermboys and
gasped as he looked at the fast fading, but still sticky trail of his herd.
He bowed his noble head in manly disappointment then fell onto the earth and
threw the major league tantrum he always wanted to express. He would be
laughed out of the sperm bank, as all that was left was one weakly droplet of
precum.
The magnificent horse had made off with the entire herd! As it galloped
away leading the spermatozoa to freedom, it gave a mighty horselaugh. Elixir
De Krycek uttered a resigned sign. He said, "Well, that the way the rubber
bounces. We should have seen that coming."
Faux Mulder tenderly took his outlaw lover's hand and said, "Yeah, I get it
now too."
Skinherd complained, "Well, I don't. Someone clue me in."
Krycek said, "Walt, that was no ordinary wild stallion, that was a Trojan
horse...
The end,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, Please send all negative condoms elsewhere
Spermatozoa Spurious Impetuous
by Ursula
He stands, a noble figure of a man, last of a dying breed, his wind burned
and sun kissed countenance a thing of manly beauty. He stands for something,
the wild herds, very prolific (With penetrable ovum, of course), the
outdoors, and mainly, he stands because...
