Damnit Dan, now you've wrecked your best yellow pants. Those were your going out pants.
Finally ready, DOB took up his fork and yelled "For Ross!"
"For Ross!" we echoed his cry, and took up our stations on the bottle.
Squatting for a moment, DOB closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He sat motionless, collecting himself. Nodding, he stood up clear eyed, raise his fork and yelled, "Fork freeeeeeeeeeedooooom!" He charged at the beast.
Tentacles of the mold snapped and thrust at him, DOB stabbing back crazily. We shouldered the bottle and ran at the side of the mass, a gap having formed in its tentacles.
"I'll fork you up! I'll fork you up so bad!" The cries of battle echoed up from the other side of the beast.
We reached the fuzzy mass of the mold. Gladstone and Brockway began twisting off the cap. A tentacle swooped in at them and was batted aside momentarily by Seanbaby. The tentacle recoiled, then snatched him up by the leg and began thrashing him about.
"Ooooooh yeah girl. I'll fork you right on down to the break of dawn."
The cap of the bottle rattled off, and the gin began to pour out onto the hideous mold. We tipped the bottle higher and began spreading the gin around. More tentacles swooped in, picking off Swaim and Brockway.
A clash of metal from the other side of the beast, followed by DOB's voice, "Ooh big American moldier. Me fork you long time!"
A tentacle came crashing into Gladstone, knocking him and the bottle down over me. It scooped him up and began whipping him around. Above me, I watched Seanbaby struggling with his tentacle, finally managing to land a kick on it. He evidently hit it right in the tentacle-balls, because with a groan it dropped him to the ground. He rolled back out of range before it could come crashing down on top of him.
"Light it!" I yelled at him, still trapped under the bottle. "Don't worry about me! Just light it and go!"
"I wasn't worried about you!" Seanbaby yelled back, flicking on the Zippo.
My mouth gaped. Above me, Swaim shouted "Well save me then, fucker!" He was still clutched firmly in the grasp of the moldy tentacle that was shaking him around.
"No, don't!" said DOB, who had backed away from the Queen to join Seanbaby. He was somehow even less clothed than before. "We can get more columnists. But a used fridge is 50 bucks, easy."
Without saying a word, Seanbaby tossed the lighter into the puddle of alcohol pooling at the base of the mold. Light flared up around me and I was deafened by a rushing noise.
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"What's all this commotion?" Jack's voice, rousing me to consciousness.
Cracked Editor Jack O'Brien
I opened my eyes. I was lying on the floor, pinned underneath the water cooler, cold water splashing around me. Above me, Gladstone, Brockway and Swaim were tangled in the venetian blinds of the kitchen window. The window coverings screamed in protest before they came crashing down upon them.
Across the room the refrigerator was on fire, its door hanging by a single hinge. Seanbaby was sitting on the floor, stunned, his eyebrows missing. DOB was lying unconscious on the kitchen table, now completely naked. A push broom was still clasped in his right hand.
After helping me to my feet, I explained to Jack what had happened. He nodded, with a bemused look in his eye. "I'm afraid your imaginations have gotten the better of you again," he said in a matronly voice. "There's no such thing as a mold Queen," he added. Retrieving a fire extinguisher from the corner, he put out the blaze. "I don't know what I'm going to do with you boys sometimes," he sighed as the smoke cleared. He turned and looked into the fridge.
"Is that Ross?"
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