In Beggar Gone Bad,
a rich dude posing as a beggar kidnapped me!
a sudden gust yanked me to the North Pole
and thrust me down a huge, gaping hole.
Down the Dragon’s Hole
and thrust me down a huge, gaping hole.
Down the Dragon’s Hole
brought me where I am now …
Inside the Hollow Earth!
Picture Source:
http://infinity.usanethosting.com/Heart.Of.God/HollowEarth/HollowEarth_model.gif
(Admittedly, their model would be a lot more believable,
if they could spell the word center.)
I just got saved from a pterodactyl by none other than Elvis?!
“You, you saved my life! You the man, Elvis!”
“Thank you. Thank you very much.”
As Elvis marched away from the giant fern plants, I followed. What else was I going to do? Feed the wild life?
“Elvis, what are you doing here?”
“I like to go where no one knows me as an entertainer, you know?” He twitched his lip in that way that he does. “Fame is fun, but it can wear on your soul, you know?”
“I wish I did.”
“Here, no one knows I faked my death; and no one knows me as Elvis, the King of Rock and Roll. Instead they know me as”--
--He led me into a cave filled with hundreds of primitive people who cheered at Elvis and shouted in unison: “Kimosabe!”
“They think you’re the Lone Ranger?!”
“Naw, naw, nothin’ like that. I just couldn’t think of no foreign soundin’ name, you know? I, uh, wanted to sound ex-ot-ic.”
The people bowed before Elvis, but yanked me away.
Elvis marched after me, quickly, but with quiet dignity.
Seems like he really is a king. And I’m really lunch!
The natives led me to a boiling pot, ripped off my clothes, and held me down to decapitate me with a machete.
“Um, Elvis? If you’re not too busy, could you, um, take a moment out of your busy day; and please, please, please, HELP!!!!!!!”
Once again, Elvis arrived in the nick of time, “Naw, naw, not this one. He ain’t the eatin’ kind.”
“Thank you again,” I said.
Elvis smirked at me as I stood there wearing only my Spider-Man Underoos. “How old are you?”
“I’m ageless.”
Lip twitch, lip twitch. “You an immortal like me?”
“I’m not allowed to say.”
“Then you are an immortal like me.”
I shrugged and muttered unintelligibly. Seemed like the thing to do. I meant my outlook was ageless, but if his thinking I was an immortal like him earned me his respect, then why not play along? Why not?
He grabbed the machete from the native who was going to decapitate me and held it to my throat. “There’s only room for one human immortal on the northern side of Inner Earth.”
So that’s why I shouldn’t play along.
“And you’re it, Elv Baby! I never said I was an immortal. I meant my outlook is ageless. Besides, I’m not honing in on your turf, Elv Baby. Um, Mister Elv Baby. I just want to get back home. Or I could move south.”--
Elvis lowered the machete. From the midst of the people to whom I looked like I’d make a great bowl of soup, stepped forth the most majestic and beautiful woman I’d ever seen. Stately; tan; with long, cascading, black hair; and emerald green eyes. Everything I would ever want in a woman, except for the deeds to a production studio and a chocolate factory. Unlike the loincloths worn by the others (not counting Elvis who wore a white jumpsuit covered with shiny sequins), she wore a long dress, like a cascading evening gown, with lots of slits in the side that seemed to say, “I love to show off my shapely thighs.” Her orange-ish-white dress with a black stripe or two looked familiar, and was topped with a fanciful broach that flashed red and beeped, but I’m happy to say I contemplated her, not her dress, nor her broach. As I thought about her, I didn’t consider her clothes one bit. And I mean that, slightly better than that sounds.
--“But I’m in no hurry. I could help out around here. Maybe work as a masseur. Shower consultant. Help repopulate the planet.”
“Yeah, yeah, I see what you’re doin’. You ain’t nothin’ but a hound dog; and you just wanna be her teddy bear.”
“Don’t be cruel, Elvis. Not to a heart that’s true.”
“Her name’s Lady Sim-one.”
“Really?” I chuckled. I couldn’t help myself. Elvis mispronounced her name in such a silly way. Like Sim-Won, instead of the proper pronunciation of Sim-Moan. No offense to him or anything. He’s still the King of Rock and Roll; and/or Kimosabe, depending on which side of the Earth you live on. Or in.
“Naw, naw, it’s (he made a series of clicking sounds). But I didn’t think you’d remember all that.”
“Good call.”
Lady Simone (or clickety-clickety-click-click-click) sashayed toward me with an alluring, inviting smile. My favorite kind!
I returned the smile by beaming back at her. Seemed like the polite thing to do. Plus, I couldn’t help myself. As she stepped closer and reached for my hand, however, my heart stopped. But not in a good way. GASP!!!
Her dress was made out of my paramotor chute!
Now I’ll never get home.
Lady Simone saw the horrified look on my face. She returned the horror by gasping back at me. She let go of my hand and turned to flee, weeping all the way. Oops!
Now I’ll never get home. And I won’t have much fun here either!
I ran after Lady Simone to console her, and to explain, and to see if I could make a much better impression; and if there was a movie theater down here, if she’d wanna go see it with me.
I wondered: Does Inner Earth have miniature golf?
Suddenly, Zandor, the ruthless ruler of Inner Earth, found the formerly secret cave of the northern tribe. He and his countless troops (a.k.a. mindless minions, albeit heavily-armed mindless minions, but mindless just the same) surrounded the cave, hoping to annihilate us.
But why me? I just got here. And I’m loads of fun to have around.
Apparently, one of his mindless minions put a tracker on my paramotor chute after I hid it under that first giant fern leaf, but before the natives found it and made a dress out of it.
Zandor roared in victory, having finally found the secret home of the northern tribe whom he longed to vanquish!
Now I’ll never get home. I won’t have much fun. And I won’t live much longer!
If that’s not bad enough, Zandor wants to destroy the northern tribe, because they guard the hole at the north pole.
With the northern tribe out of the way, Zandor and his massive amount of mindless minions can escape to Outer Earth to destroy us!
Or rather, the rest of you, because it looks I’m about to be as destroyed as one can be.
This must be why most people don’t give to beggars!
Now I’ll never get home. I won’t have much fun. I won’t live much longer. And I may have inadvertently caused the end of all life as we know it.
My bad!
TO BE CONTINUED* …
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