The Incredible Ass-Brigade (a short-story)
Created | Updated Jan 28, 2002
The Incredible Ass-Brigade
by Adrian Thornton
As Adrian worked away, he listened to the radio.
<CRACKLE CRACKLE CRAKCLE Asthma Attacks CRACKLE...>
"Ass Attacks!?" he exclaimed. Somewhere in the depths of his distorted mind, a gruesome and wholly unnatural image formed...
~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~ <= beginning of dream sequence
~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~
The world seemed to shrink away, the spaces between Adrian and the surrounding tables, counters, and piles of boxes expanding into great uncharted plains of worn and abused industrial carpet. Here and there loomed the great polystyrene monoliths that had been foam chips, now glacial erratics left by the slow but unstoppable movements of great northern feed in size 12 Nike runners. Paul and Blaine had been having a conversation, but it slowed and stopped in a fashion akin to the sound produced when an over-sized aunt slowly lowers her colossal bottom onto an unseen record player. Time was frozen, and the vast waste of Cerum Dental Supplies lay in front of Adrian in eerie silence.
All of a sudden, his attention was drawn to the corner of the room nearest the water fountain. Was the carpet moving? No! A thousand, nay, a million tiny gray shapes galloped across the barren expanse of the floor. Or perhaps they only plodded very swiftly for, on further inspection, they were a platoon of miniature donkeys, all bent on revenge, and wearing the uniforms of the Libertarian Army for Worldwide Ass Freedom! That color was gray, a proud and noble color for asses everywhere. The charge continued on, and as the Ass Brigade drew nearer, Adrian could hear a song...
- DA DIDI DAA-DAA DA DIDI DAA-DAA DA DIDI DAA-DAA DUM DIDI DAA! DA DIDI DAA-DAA DA DIDI DAA-DAA DA DIDI DAA-DAA DER DIDI DEE! -
A bugle blew and immediately the entire assault force drew to a halt. There was dead silence as the throng slowly parted and a grizzled old mule drew to the fore. "Line up!" he said, and the ragged bunch dispersed slightly into carefully practiced disarray. "That's better!" he exclaimed. "Now you all know why you're here. You're here to fight for freedom!" <CHEERS> "Liberty." <CHEERS> "Oats!" <EXTATIC CHEERS> "And an end to tyranny!" <A SMALL, MUFFLED DONKEY FART> "Um... and the beginning of OUR tyranny!" <CHEERS>
The old, grizzled mule turned its head towards Adrian and gave him a look. It wasn't a particularly angry or intimidating look, as mules were never very good at that sort of thing. "Now look here," said the mule, and Adrian stared in a distinct absence of horror a the mule's muzzle, which was pointedly UNLIKE weathered shoe leather, rocky terrain, or even a road accident. "We, the fraternal donkeys of the... uh... um..." he craned back his head to read the insignia on his uniform, "the... er... Libertarian Army for Worldwide Ass Freedom, or... L... A... W... A... F... LAWAF," he smiled at his accomplishment in spelling, then his face went blank. He paused. "Ahh, yes. We of LAWAF demand a 60 percent --"
"80 percent" yelled an unseen face.
"Yes, 80 percent increase in the Oat supply, or we shall... we shall... shall lift up that mountain and drop it on you. Yes, that's what we shall do."
Adrian was puzzled. "What mountain?"
The mule nodded its head towards a stout man in a red winter jacket and blue jeans. the man was balding and wore spectacles. "That one. Right there."
Adrian looked over to the man. "That's Kevin. The warehouse guy." Were he to be dressed in green Lederhosen, a pointy cap, and reduced to a sixth his height, Kevin would have made an excellent lawn gnome.
The ass army shifted uneasily. "You mean," said the mule, " that thing is human?" a look of doubt crossed the mule's face. Mules WERE good at this type of look.
"Well, in a manner of speaking, yes." As Adrian continued to look at Kevin, the same look of doubt crossed his own face.
There was a moment of sucking silence as both Adrian and the donkey brigade stared at the warehouse guy in morbid fascination.
"Fine!" barked the mule, causing Adrian to nearly fall over. "You will increase our oat supply regardless. Do it, or face the consequences!"
"Oats? But-"
"CHAAARRGE!!!"
- DUT-DA DUT-DA-DUT-DA DEET-DEE DEET-DEE DEET-DEE DUT-DA DUT-DA-DUT-DA DEET-DEE DEET-DEE DEET-DEE DAAA! -
The bugle blared, and the multitude of miniature donkeys flowed over Adrian, knocking him to the floor. All the while, the mule continued his maniacal screaming. "CHARGE! CHARGE CHARGE! CHAAAARGE!!! TAKE NO PRISONER!"
Adrian kicked and screamed as thousands upon thousands of tiny donkeys ripped and tore at his clothes with their buck teeth. "I have no oats! I have no oats! There's coke in the fridge! Leave me alone!" Several donkeys had removed one of his shoes and had decided to take up permanent residence in it. They were building a picket fence.
"Tell me the location of the oats!" bellowed the delirious mule. "We have ways of making you scream!"
Adrian tried to take his mind off the fact that the other shoe was now being made use of as a cheese factory. "No oats! I have no oats!" He made a futile attempts to bat away a donkey that was chewing on his ear.
"Fine!" said the mule. "Then suffer the consequences!" He moved aside to reveal the most frightening sight Adrian had seen since he had eaten a continental breakfast in a hotel in Florence.
"Ahhhhh!" he uttered not-too-calmly. The thing was enormous - relatively speaking, of course. The wooden donkey must've been at least five inches high, and had steel-shod feet with spikes. Adrian's legs were pulled apart and the siege engine was pushed slowly between them. The donkeys turned a crank and the huge, ugly hind legs reared up, spring-loaded, and aimed right at...
"MWA-HA-HA-HA!!!" cackled the mule.
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!"
~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~ <= end of dream sequence
~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~
Adrian twitched and shook his head. He quickly got back to work, packing boxes, and tried to think of an incredible shrinking machine to use on Kevin...
THE END
by Adrian Thornton
As Adrian worked away, he listened to the radio.
<CRACKLE CRACKLE CRAKCLE Asthma Attacks CRACKLE...>
"Ass Attacks!?" he exclaimed. Somewhere in the depths of his distorted mind, a gruesome and wholly unnatural image formed...
~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~ <= beginning of dream sequence
~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~
The world seemed to shrink away, the spaces between Adrian and the surrounding tables, counters, and piles of boxes expanding into great uncharted plains of worn and abused industrial carpet. Here and there loomed the great polystyrene monoliths that had been foam chips, now glacial erratics left by the slow but unstoppable movements of great northern feed in size 12 Nike runners. Paul and Blaine had been having a conversation, but it slowed and stopped in a fashion akin to the sound produced when an over-sized aunt slowly lowers her colossal bottom onto an unseen record player. Time was frozen, and the vast waste of Cerum Dental Supplies lay in front of Adrian in eerie silence.
All of a sudden, his attention was drawn to the corner of the room nearest the water fountain. Was the carpet moving? No! A thousand, nay, a million tiny gray shapes galloped across the barren expanse of the floor. Or perhaps they only plodded very swiftly for, on further inspection, they were a platoon of miniature donkeys, all bent on revenge, and wearing the uniforms of the Libertarian Army for Worldwide Ass Freedom! That color was gray, a proud and noble color for asses everywhere. The charge continued on, and as the Ass Brigade drew nearer, Adrian could hear a song...
- DA DIDI DAA-DAA DA DIDI DAA-DAA DA DIDI DAA-DAA DUM DIDI DAA! DA DIDI DAA-DAA DA DIDI DAA-DAA DA DIDI DAA-DAA DER DIDI DEE! -
A bugle blew and immediately the entire assault force drew to a halt. There was dead silence as the throng slowly parted and a grizzled old mule drew to the fore. "Line up!" he said, and the ragged bunch dispersed slightly into carefully practiced disarray. "That's better!" he exclaimed. "Now you all know why you're here. You're here to fight for freedom!" <CHEERS> "Liberty." <CHEERS> "Oats!" <EXTATIC CHEERS> "And an end to tyranny!" <A SMALL, MUFFLED DONKEY FART> "Um... and the beginning of OUR tyranny!" <CHEERS>
The old, grizzled mule turned its head towards Adrian and gave him a look. It wasn't a particularly angry or intimidating look, as mules were never very good at that sort of thing. "Now look here," said the mule, and Adrian stared in a distinct absence of horror a the mule's muzzle, which was pointedly UNLIKE weathered shoe leather, rocky terrain, or even a road accident. "We, the fraternal donkeys of the... uh... um..." he craned back his head to read the insignia on his uniform, "the... er... Libertarian Army for Worldwide Ass Freedom, or... L... A... W... A... F... LAWAF," he smiled at his accomplishment in spelling, then his face went blank. He paused. "Ahh, yes. We of LAWAF demand a 60 percent --"
"80 percent" yelled an unseen face.
"Yes, 80 percent increase in the Oat supply, or we shall... we shall... shall lift up that mountain and drop it on you. Yes, that's what we shall do."
Adrian was puzzled. "What mountain?"
The mule nodded its head towards a stout man in a red winter jacket and blue jeans. the man was balding and wore spectacles. "That one. Right there."
Adrian looked over to the man. "That's Kevin. The warehouse guy." Were he to be dressed in green Lederhosen, a pointy cap, and reduced to a sixth his height, Kevin would have made an excellent lawn gnome.
The ass army shifted uneasily. "You mean," said the mule, " that thing is human?" a look of doubt crossed the mule's face. Mules WERE good at this type of look.
"Well, in a manner of speaking, yes." As Adrian continued to look at Kevin, the same look of doubt crossed his own face.
There was a moment of sucking silence as both Adrian and the donkey brigade stared at the warehouse guy in morbid fascination.
"Fine!" barked the mule, causing Adrian to nearly fall over. "You will increase our oat supply regardless. Do it, or face the consequences!"
"Oats? But-"
"CHAAARRGE!!!"
- DUT-DA DUT-DA-DUT-DA DEET-DEE DEET-DEE DEET-DEE DUT-DA DUT-DA-DUT-DA DEET-DEE DEET-DEE DEET-DEE DAAA! -
The bugle blared, and the multitude of miniature donkeys flowed over Adrian, knocking him to the floor. All the while, the mule continued his maniacal screaming. "CHARGE! CHARGE CHARGE! CHAAAARGE!!! TAKE NO PRISONER!"
Adrian kicked and screamed as thousands upon thousands of tiny donkeys ripped and tore at his clothes with their buck teeth. "I have no oats! I have no oats! There's coke in the fridge! Leave me alone!" Several donkeys had removed one of his shoes and had decided to take up permanent residence in it. They were building a picket fence.
"Tell me the location of the oats!" bellowed the delirious mule. "We have ways of making you scream!"
Adrian tried to take his mind off the fact that the other shoe was now being made use of as a cheese factory. "No oats! I have no oats!" He made a futile attempts to bat away a donkey that was chewing on his ear.
"Fine!" said the mule. "Then suffer the consequences!" He moved aside to reveal the most frightening sight Adrian had seen since he had eaten a continental breakfast in a hotel in Florence.
"Ahhhhh!" he uttered not-too-calmly. The thing was enormous - relatively speaking, of course. The wooden donkey must've been at least five inches high, and had steel-shod feet with spikes. Adrian's legs were pulled apart and the siege engine was pushed slowly between them. The donkeys turned a crank and the huge, ugly hind legs reared up, spring-loaded, and aimed right at...
"MWA-HA-HA-HA!!!" cackled the mule.
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!"
~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~ <= end of dream sequence
~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~
Adrian twitched and shook his head. He quickly got back to work, packing boxes, and tried to think of an incredible shrinking machine to use on Kevin...
THE END
