FicWad

And on the other side, the Dudes didst find themselves on a dock, and a foghorn didst blow, for a deep mist didst swirl around them.

‘The Misty Main…’ quoth the Stranger. ‘At last, we art getting close…’

For docked in front of them was the Sweet Lady of Twylight, and tattered shadows billowed from her mast.

‘That fucked-up derelict is our ride?’ quoth Nori. ‘Thou’rt braver than I thought.’

‘This ghost ship may be our only chance to find The Man in time,’ quoth Scoot, ‘for in my quantemplations, I’ve sensed that the enemy is about to make his big push, and we must find a way to push back.’

‘I fear Scoot may be right,’ quoth the Stranger. ‘I too senseth time running out.’

And so the Dudes didst board the Lady of Twylight, and didst embark on a voyage into the Misty Main. The shades of men seemed to man the decks, and didst guide the ship on its journey unto Nowhere.

And the Dudes didst wander the decks, and it came to pass that they didst discover a Spooky Door standing at the Lady’s bow.

‘This is way too fuckin’ easy…’ quoth Nori, for the Skeleton Key was clutched in the eerily beautiful bow statue’s hand.

‘Shut up,’ quoth the Stranger, ‘ye talk too much.’

And it came to pass that the Lady of Twylight didst awaken, and her spectral form didst materialize between the Dudes and the Spooky Door.

‘Thou shalt pass no farther…’ quoth she. ‘Thou hast boarded my ship, flagship of all ship graveyards. Prepare thee to spend all eternity wandering these decks, and know that thou wilt never set foot on land again!…’

‘Bullshit!’ quoth Richard, and he didst power up.

‘Fuck that!’ quoth Scoot, and he didst draw the HellRazor. ‘Thou knoweth what time it is!’

‘ ’Tis the Eleventh Hour…’ quoth Adria absently. ‘Soon we shall see for whom the bell doth toll…’

And the Dudes didst power up to do battle with the Sweet Lady of Twylight.

‘Give thee up,’ quoth she. ‘Thou canst not win! For no mortal man may hinder me!’

‘Fortunately for us, I am not a man…’ quoth the Stranger, and at last the cloak and hood didst fall by the wayside.

‘Narayana?’ quoth Scoot, for he didst recognize the Goddess’s Hand.

‘Come on, Adria,’ quoth she, ‘let us kick this bitch’s ass!’

‘Reow! Cat-fight!’ quoth Casey.

And the Goddess didst appear and smack him.

And it came to pass that the Goddess’s Hand and Adria didst power up, and smote the ghost Lady with great psychic energy.

‘Damn! ’Tis a good thing we didn’t leave Adria at that last Spooky Door!’ quoth Nori.

And Adria didst prophesy: ‘Heed my words, for Doug shall say unto the guy with the coffee mug: “Thou big lug! Oh no! Down on the rug! Look out! ’Tis a bug!” And Doug didst shrug, and he sayeth, “Fear not, for all he wanteth is a hug.”

‘For the scoffers shalt shrug, but the attack doth always come from the direction thou’rt not looking. And all wilt want to know, Is the Black Box lying?

‘But the bed and the book both demandeth another quarter, and still the stuffed animals on the wall shall laugh at thee. For thy plight hath ever been a bad hand dealt by The Man. And the desklamp shalt be no comfort, for thou must read to the book. Know thou that whilst thou wasted thy time taking dot-tests, thy teachers were drinking psychedelic coffee and juggling penguins for the purpose of betting?

‘Boil thee two cups of water. Add thee noodles and cook, stirring occasionally. Remove from stove and add seasoning.’

‘I have played my hand,’ quoth Adria as she didst pick up the Skeleton Key from off of the deck, ‘and now I shall watch over the Key to this Spooky Door for thee.’

And so it came to pass that Adria didst keep the Skeleton Key, and the Dudes didst pass through yet another Spooky Door, drawing ever closer to a terrible confrontation with The Man.



Meanwhile, as the Dudes were entering another realm of The Man’s dark domain, Matt didst return unto his remodeled Asgard home, and the God of Alaskan Thunderfuck didst find a mysterious package in his living room.

‘Hark!’ spake Matt. ‘What have I here? Mayhap, ’tis that Pocket Poodle and the Pig-Stinging Jellyfish CD I didst order…’

But as he opened the box, a vortex didst open and didst suck the God of Silly Walks into the Box.

‘Matt? Is that ye?’ spake the God of Odnoh.

‘I might asketh the same thing of thee,’ spake Matt, for the God of Fist Pounding was also dressed in the most impossibly stupid-looking garb, which was all black-and-white.

‘Matt, please tell me we art not where I think we art,’ spake the God of Orange Juice Drinking.

‘Oh Lucy!’ cried an insane, high-pitched voice coming from the front door.

‘No…’ gasped the God of Sex.

And it came to pass that everything went black, and they didst find themselves dressed in white lab coats, explaining why rich Chocolate Ovaltine was better for thy kids than so-called ‘healthy’ snacks like fruit or milk.

‘Oh shit!’ cried the God of All Things Found Under Couch Cushions. ‘Not another stupid fucking commercial! …’