Pop Tarts: Omnibus Edition (8 page)

Holly had
another sip of her cocktail and burped.

“No accounting
for taste,” she sighed.

But Cherry
wasn’t taking it quite so lightly.

“They were
hiding behind a tree and whispering.”

“Someone call
the police!” Holly declared.

“Holly!” Cherry
yelled.

Holly pushed
Cherry and they started laughing again and rolled around on the
floor.

Later that
evening when Holly had passed out after having her 9
^th
goldfish bowl, Cherry tucked her into bed, before sneaking out of
the house.

She hailed a
taxi to Rhino’s place.

It was 9
o’clock at night, the lights were off and it didn’t look like
anybody was at home.

Cherry rang the
doorbell just to make sure, before checking under the azalea pot
plant in the porch and found a spare key.

She snuck
inside to eerie dark silence – it was an old house and quite spooky
- then thought she heard a noise in the basement.

She unlatched
the basement door - couldn’t find a light switch so used the torch
app on her smartphone – and climbed down the stairs slowly.

“Is anyone
there?” she shouted.

When she
reached the bottom of the stairs she was shocked by what she
saw.

A real live sex
dungeon.

Leather gimp
masks, hand cuffs, chains and dildo’s that made Holly’s precious
Felix memorial seem positively miniscule in comparison.

Then she saw a
cage in a dark corner.

As she
approached it with great trepidation, she realised someone was
actually inside it.

It was Rhino
Zagreb! The real Rhino Zagreb! The Rhino Zagreb with spellbound
amnesia!

Of course
Cherry knew none of this.

He looked
scruffy and had grown a sudden beard, but it all happened so
quickly she didn’t really have time to think about it.

She let him out
of the cage and they turned to make their getaway.

However stood
right in front of them was the very fake, very beardless Rhino
Zagreb.

And he didn’t
look happy.

Felix found
himself in a bit of a quandary.

Here he was
back in 1987 - literally weeks before he made the biggest mistake
of his life – and with the chance to directly influence and change
it.

But he knew
that would create a paradox.

The problem was
he didn’t quite know what a paradox was.

Where was
Google when you needed it?

So he went to
the local library and found an encyclopaedia instead.

The general
consensus he took from it was of contradiction. He could change
things for the better, but could actually inadvertently make things
worse.

If he did
something to change time, it could create a fault in a timeline
that he may then not later exist in.

This scared him
more than the little dead boy tapping at his friends’ window in
Salem’s Lot in 1979.

So in a few
weeks’ time his younger self would ruin his life by getting drunk
and cheating on his fiancé.

Felix Sr.
thought through the possible scenarios.

Option 1: he
does nothing, Felix Jr. sleeps with Cherry, Holly dumps him, chaos
ensues and the band breaks up as normal.

Option 2: he
tells Felix Jr. the truth about who he really is, Felix Jr. thinks
he’s crazy and has him taken away by men in white coats.

Option 3: he
accidentally locks Felix Jr. in a cupboard until after the date of
elicitation passes.

Option 3 might
work. But after what he read in the encyclopaedia, he was still
wary about changing the timeline of history.

Change one
thing and it could change everything.

So let’s say
Felix Jr. doesn’t sleep with Cherry. He and Holly get married for a
few years, but Holly becomes a bored housewife and sleeps with the
milkman.

Felix Jr. then
murders the milkman and spends the rest of his life in jail.

Or worse still,
he escapes from jail, goes on the run, hides out in a cave and is
eaten by bats or a grizzly bear.

Perhaps Option
1 is for the best, after all.

Felix Sr. was
watching some more dodgy 80s TV in the apartment alone, when Holly
Wood arrived home, without Felix Jr.

They had been
out to dinner but she was in a lousy mood and looked like she had
been crying, so Felix Sr. figured love’s young dream must have had
an argument.

“What’s up?” he
asked, attempting to comfort her.

“Felix’s dick,”
she blurted out.

“Probably up
some 2-bit hooker’s c…”

Felix Sr. came
from behind - put his hand over her mouth to stop the profanity -
turned her around and gave her a hug.

They had been
accosted by fans at the restaurant. Buxom bosomed fans. And they
were all over Felix like a wet t shirt, so Holly had walked
out.

Felix Sr.
thought about telling Holly it as it is:

“Men simply
aren’t made to be monogamous. Women equate sex with love. Men
really don’t. Love is love. Sex is sex. A man could sleep with a
thousand buxom bosomed fans, but it doesn’t mean he loves you any
less.”

He’d been
there, done that and bought the wet t shirt.

And he still
loved Holly!

“If only women
weren’t so jealous and possessive,” he thought.

Holly was
crying now and her mascara was running, so Felix told her it as it
isn’t, instead:

“Felix would
never risk the very special love and connection you share for
twenty minutes of pure filth and lust with a dirty slapper.”

Which is
probably exactly what Felix Jr. was doing right now!

Felix Sr. wiped
a tear from Holly’s cheek and she stared into his azure blue
eyes.

The next thing
he knew they were snogging, and fell onto the couch together.

The timeline
twitched and that hungry bear in the cave? It grew a little
hungrier.

Fake Rhino was
agitated.

He was both
nervy and tense.

He had a sex
dungeon full of prisoners in his basement - now consisting of 2 -
and he didn’t know what to do with them.

Spellbound
amnesiac real Rhino wasn’t necessarily a problem, but Cherry was a
bit of a wild, loose cannon.

The spell to
wipe her mind hadn’t worked so he’d had to bound and gag her.

And he was
panicking and fast running out of ideas.

What’s a male
witch to do?

Consult his
favourite super bitch that’s what!

“The spell
mustn’t work on everyone,” Jade Astley advised, blasé. “Perhaps you
should just kill her?”

Fake Rhino was
horrified at the mere suggestion.

True he’d
deliberately set out to sabotage Tequila Sun’s comeback.

He was Pink
Champagne’s number 1 fan and the president of their fan club.

But he was
starting to question where his loyalties truly lied.

Cherry was his
friend.

Jade was the
bride of Satan’s hellfire!

And she still
hadn’t fulfilled her end of the bargain.

Before Hawky
Andrews had brought Jade back from the dead in the fiery lava pit,
before he had agreed to the cloning spell and morphed into Rhino’s
doppelganger, he had been promised one thing: a threesome with Mick
Nelson and Rita Barker.

What he didn’t
know was that this wasn’t even possible.

Mick Nelson was
dead.

He’d been out
jogging in Hampstead Heath when all of his clothes suddenly fell
off.

After taking
cover - hiding in some bushes with a gentleman friend, Mikael
Giorgio - he accidentally tripped over.

Whilst on all
fours – with Mikael stood happily giving him a golden shower from
the front – they disturbed a hive in the tree and a fertile swarm
of bees decided to instead nest in his vacant derriere instead.

The autopsy
said he had been internally stung up to a thousand times. Ouch!

But they
managed to keep it out of the papers, because well… Pink Champagne
couldn’t headline a holiday camp these days.

So what was the
demonic succubus Jade Astley really playing at?

False promises
lead to broken alliances and Hawky Andrews/fake Rhino was quickly
reaching the end of his tether.

Which leads us
back to the problem in current hand.

What to do with
real Rhino and Cherry?

Cherry had been
relaying her life story to real Rhino.

About how she
been born with both body parts, felt like she was a girl inside but
brought up as a boy.

How she
sometimes felt like women were from Venus, men were from Mars… and
like she was from Neptune.

Her life hadn’t
been easy.

She was pushing
50 and had never been kissed. Fucked a few hundred times, but never
kissed.

Real Rhino had
no idea who he was - never mind her - so had no vested interest
whatsoever, but he shed a tear anyway.

Or had she just
accidentally spat in his eye?

She couldn’t be
sure.

Suddenly his
trance-like stare was redirected elsewhere.

They were no
longer alone.

Jade and fake
Rhino had arrived to finish them both off.

They opened the
cage door and fake Rhino grabbed real Rhino.

“Your name is
Bob Smith. You live on a small farm in Merthyr Tydfil in Wales. Go
home,” he compelled, hypnotically.

Real Rhino shot
off quicker than Mikael Giorgio when he saw the bees (or was it
Mick) coming.

Jade grabbed
Cherry by the scuff of the neck and lifted her off the basement
floor.

As Cherry
coughed and spluttered - struggling to breath - fake Rhino grabbed
a humongous dildo and hit Jade over the head with it.

They were both
flabbergasted at what happened next.

Jade’s
unconscious body slowly morphed into that of the plumper, less
svelte Rita Barker.

Butter actually
wouldn’t melt in Jade’s mouth.

Rita was the
real big bad.

And she was
also a shape shifter!

The morning
after the night before and Felix Sr. was packing his bags to
leave.

He was hoping
to be gone before Felix Jr. woke up.

He couldn’t
face him.

Not after what
happened.

He’d fucked
Holly! Oh my God! He’d actually fucked Holly!

He’d cheated on
himself by sleeping with his own girlfriend!

It sounded
super nuts. But he didn’t feel any less guilty for it.

He’d also
probably altered his timeline and was now not only going to be
homeless, but stuck in 1987 forever.

What had he
done?

Why had he done
it?

Holly had left
about 20 seconds after he came over her tits.

It was his
speciality by all accounts.

But probably
just as well.

Who knows what
might have happened if his ‘from the future self’ had impregnated
his ‘from the past girlfriend’?

It would
probably have created Armageddon or something!

Felix Jr.
stirred and Felix Sr. realised he was busted.

“Dad? What are
you doing?” he asked, entering the kitchen with his pants on both
inside out and back to front.

He opened the
fridge and took a swill of milk from a very 1980s looking glass
milk bottle, most of which missed his mouth and poured down his
bare chest.

Felix Sr.
couldn’t help but berate his ‘from the past self’.

“You look a
right state,” he declared. “What happened last night?”

Felix Jr. was
so hung-over he didn’t notice Felix Sr. had ingeniously changed the
subject.

“I don’t
remember,” Felix Jr. replied, puzzled.

He’d forgotten
he was mobbed by a pack of buxom bosomed fans and been so
self-consumed that Holly had ditched him in total femme-fury.

Had a fan orgy
taken place afterwards?

Did it even
matter now?

Felix had had
so many orgies over the years, they had all but blurred into
one.

There was this
one time at least fifteen creatures had snorted cocaine off his
cock.

I say creatures
as it was a mixture of woman, man, those yet to decide… and he
wasn’t sure if it was the drugs or not… but he swore there was a
pet Llama involved too.

So a regular
few girl gang bang was certainly not going to register on his
memory wank-bank, some twenty something years later.

But that was
beside the point.

It was Felix
Sr. that had committed the ultimate sin, himself. And he was sure
he would be punished for it.

He turned on
the radio and Star Trekkin’ was playing.

Karma had
already begun.

Felix Jr. went
to take a shower and there was a knock at the door.

Felix Sr.
panicked thinking it might be Holly.

He wasn’t sure
if he could face her either.

But it wasn’t
Holly. It was 1987 Cherry.

“Hi, I don’t
believe we have met?” she enquired. “Or have we?”

Felix Sr.
freaked out for a moment.

“No we haven’t.
I’m Felix’s Dad,” he finally replied.

Cherry eyed him
up suspiciously as she entered the apartment with beady eyes.

“Felix is in
the shower,” Felix Sr. said. “He won’t be long. Help yourself to a
cup of tea.”

As she did,
Felix Sr. went to get changed, leaving the door slightly ajar.

She followed
him and watched him change his underwear through the crack in the
door, noticing a tattoo of Felix the Cat on his bum.

She licked her
lips, then returned to the kitchen to put some sugar in her
tea.

Felix Jr. - as
shameless as ever – exited the shower and entered the kitchen,
clutching his crown jewels in just one hand and brushing his teeth
with the other.

“Cherry, this
is a surprise,” he gurgled, startled.

He returned to
the bathroom and as he did Cherry noticed the exact same tattoo on
his slightly peachier arse.