Tiny Bobby & Cindy continued their body tour down the abdomen & into the crotch. Here they met a little man. "Who're you?" "I'm the Scrotum Factotum!" The Scrotum Factotum told 'em you gotta know when to hold 'em, know when to fold 'em. Tiny Bobby & Cindy listened to Scrotum Factotum quietly, still in the dark. They continued the tour & met rapper Epi-Diddy. I shuddered as the drugs filled my system. Electric shock. Epi-Diddy needs to lemme know where these are from. I need a new supplier. Lily pads and blood enter my vision. I let the blood pool and then I guide my third eye to "walk" across the lily pads. Once I get to the other side of my mind I gather a bunch of the blood splattered lily pads & lash them into a raft. The journey back is always more pleasant. I often think about how many stars it would take to make a constellation out of me, not just my shape, but my exploits. I began to count: One. Two. Three. Four. Five... The next thing I knew, I was waking up, alone on the wet sand of a tiny island. The raft bobbed forlornly in a small cove. It was afternoon and the air tasted like Fairy Floss. The sky was pinkening and my hands were turning into cereal boxes. I looked up to see a duck standing in front of me, head cocked, "Hold on!" Penelope interrupted. "This sounds like an episode of Family Guy--the one where Stewie and Brian eat the mushrooms Meg got from Quagmire...remember?" The sky turned blue -black and the great eye of Shiva opened within it. "I must have missed that one," said a giant voice with an unconvincing east Indian accent. Penelope was flabbergasted that any body, with an unconvincing east Indian accent, would NOT know the names of the Five Mantras—a Philadelphia Doo Wop group from the late Fifties—but the giant voice went silent.



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