by Stephen Johnson
Stevie Nicks—In Your Dreams
MoTW—The Mutant Chronicles
So there we were, me shouting “HAYOO!” and the horse and donkey hooves
making that clippity-cloppity noise we all know and love as the
stagecoach thingy went bounding down the dirt roads as I made no attempt
whatsoever to try and dodge the naked denizens of Omaha.
This continued for quite a long time because, quite frankly, I was
completely lost. Remember that this is a state that doesn’t believe in
street signs because, well, nobody in Nebraska can read so why bother
with something as simple as a name on a metal strip?
On and on we went and finally I spotted it. Out of the dust rose the Bob
Mansion (tm, I believe). There it was, the tallest building in all of
It wasn’t only the site of the ranch house that clued me into the fact
that I had finally arrived. No, it was the expansive lawn and it was
(Note: By “expansive” I’m using that in Nebraskan terminology. Fact is,
his lawn was a whopping 8 x 5 so anywhere else it would be a doormat.
Here though, it was fucking HUGE.)
I pulled on the reins and the horse and donkey stopped rather quickly.
So quickly I flew from my perch and landed, luckily, on Bob’s “lawn”.
However, what looked like grass at a distance was actually a bed of thin
nails painted green to look like grass. And it hurt. A lot.
But, being the manly man that I am, I shook off the pain, wiped the
blood off and traipsed up the front door.
Ringing the doorbell got no answer so I knocked a few times but that
also went unanswered. So, as any person in Detroit would do, I tried the
doorknob and, finding that the door wasn’t locked, walked right in.
I could describe the Bob Mansion but won’t since that would take time
and lots of words but I’ll say that it was really…clean. I mean REALLY
clean. Scarily clean. Everything was centered as well. Perfectly
centered. Scarily, perfectly centered. Eerily centered.
I figured what the hell, why not move something so it was a bit
off-centered? So I moved a magazine an inch and expected a little robot
dog or something to pop out of a hidden door in the wall and fix what I
had done, but no lock. The magazine remained off-center, totally
screwing up the Feng Shui of the place.
After checking a few rooms, I finally heard a noise. It sounded like
someone sniffing so I figured that I would find out what was the cause
of this noise and off I went.
A few more rooms with nothing and then I hit the jackpot. When I opened
the door I expected to see an ionizer or something like that making the
sniffing noise, but no.
What I saw was Bob and Bob was sitting behind a large desk and on the
desk was a large pile of white powder and Bob had his head stuck in that
large pile of powder and was sniffing and snorting the stuff.
Figuring (I’ve been doing that a lot lately) that he wouldn’t mind if I
joined him, I pranced up to that desk and as I was getting ready to
partake of the powder, Bob raised his head from the pile and uttered
after which he pulled something out of his suit jacket and pointed it at
COMING NEXT: Wow, it’s a cliffhanger!