For part 1, check yesterday's post. It won't make any sense if you don't (not that it does anyway). As promised, here is part 2:
“Uuughhh, where am I?”
Groggy and confused, Luigi’s head lurched around in a circular motion, trying to make sense of the world before him. His vision was blurrier than a drunken bat staring at a spot light through tracing a sheet of tracing paper. He thought he could make out several humanoid, anthropomorphic animals nearby. Through his dulled hearing, he could several loud cries in the background, although he wasn’t sure if they were pleasurable screams or agonised screams. Either way, they were rather disconcerting. He could also hear a clacking noise very close by, like someone had set off a Newton’s Cradle just behind him.
As he lolled in what appeared to be a chair, the clacking noise started to move round to his front. Something moved into his field of vision, a woman, in black. Before his eyes had even focussed correctly, Luigi tried to move away from this woman. If Daniel Radcliffe had taught him anything, it’s that women in black should be avoided at all costs.
“Don’t worry, I’m not going to hurt you” reassured the woman. As his eyesight began to return, he noticed she was wearing a leather basque and a pair of knee high boots. “Not unless you pay me, anyway.”
“What do you want with me? Where am I?”
“Only the best brothel in town. We cater for everyone here!” and with a flourish of her hand, she motioned to several people in the background engaging in various acts of lewd behaviour. People were tied to racks, others were dressed as assorted animals, and one guy was passed out on the floor in a pool of green jelly with a goat. Luigi put himself in this man’s position for a moment. Damn! He wondered how he was ever going to recover from the public humiliation of waking naked, covered in some sort of green slime and animal hair, surrounded by a crowd of shocked onlookers staring at his massive erection. Thankfully, he reminded himself that he wouldn’t have to deal with the after effects of such depravity. Realising that he wasn’t in danger (unless he paid someone for the privilege), he attempted to get up.
“Oh yeah, I restrained you because I thought you were one of my slaves trying to escape. And sorry about the metal pipe to the ol’ noggin back there. You were creeping around in the dark though!”
The woman began to untie him. She was very adept with knots. Perhaps in another life she’d have made a fantastic sailor. Luigi doubted that she’d appreciate such a compliment though. Once freed, he rose to his feet.
“As way of an apology, how about an hour’s session? On the house of course.”
“No, I need to find my friend. We’re supposed to be on a stag do” declined Luigi.
At the mention of this, the woman approached a desk, pulled out a green bottle and two small glasses. She poured the liquid into the glasses, handed one to Luigi, and chinked her glass on his.
“Green fairy. It is a stag do after all. By the way, what’s your name?”
“Laura, but officially I’m Miss Inferno” and with that, she slipped him a business card. “Follow me on Facebook” she whispered “I’m ever so needy”.
Five minutes later, Luigi found himself drunkenly putting on a squirrel outfit and trying to join the furry party. The absinthe coursing through his veins powered him ever-forward, toward his impending doom at the hands of the amorous platypus.
Another hour and a distinct loss of dignity later, Luigi emerged from the brothel wearing a tight, vibrant latex top. He wondered where on earth he’d find Bill at this time of night. As he scouted the area, he saw a familiar vehicle at the side of the road. He recognised that car from somewhere. The hideously green Seat Ibiza with a dent in side where it had hit a lamppost, and the dent on the other side where it had hit a pony. Obviously, this was his car.
Wondering what his vehicle was doing out here, Luigi pulled out his keys. Luckily, he kept his car keys attached to his house keys, so he tended to take them wherever he went. As he went to put the key in door, there was a loud squawk as a bird swooped down with an intent to rob him. A quick tussle later and the greedy, shiny-eyed avian assailant had robbed him. He watched the seagull as it slowly crossed the sky, his car keys hanging from its beak, glinting in the sunlight, wondering how he would explain the pink latex vest to his partner. Jo was going to kill him when he made it back.
Despairingly, he made his way to the back of the vehicle and sat on the curb. This was the worst stag do he’d ever been on. If it wasn’t for the animal magic he’d indulged in earlier, the whole evening would have been a washout.
Just then, he looked at the rear of his car and noticed that the boot had been left partly open. He lifted the lid, only to find his friend bundled in there. He was bound, gagged, and appeared to be in drag. Perhaps he’d been in the brothel after all.
Bill started to come to. As soon as he clapped eyes on Luigi, he began to scream through his gag and flail around like a hyperactive earthworm. Trying to reassure his friend and untie his bonds, Luigi started picking at the knots. It was useless. These were done by someone far more versed in rope play than he was. There was only one person Luigi knew who could undo these restraints.
“Did you do this to him?”
“Of course not.” Said Miss Inferno “As I said, I only do this to people who pay me.”
Laura picked apart the knots like a child ripping open a birthday present. It was like watching a concert pianist perform, only 76% more kinky. She’d freed his arms and legs within a matter of seconds, but before she could remove the gag, Bill leaped out of the boot, pushed past them, and ran off down the street. It was rather a sight to see a gagged man run down the street, clutching an empty bottle of whiskey and wearing a fabulous evening dress. It was even more of a sight when he went crashing through the doors of a local church.
The parishioners all looked up in surprise when the door at the back of the church slammed open halfway through the vicar's service, and Bill Bishop staggered up the aisle grasping a half-empty bottle of Jack Daniels and wearing a sparkly, purple evening gown with a slit up the side and a pair of ripped fishnet stockings.
Chasing him down, Luigi and Laura tackled him to the ground near the altar and pulled at his gag.
“Let me go!” shrieked Bill, further frightening the congregation.
“What’s going on? Who did this to you?” demanded Luigi, shaking his friend for an answer.
“I can’t tell.”
“Tell us!” commanded Laura, producing a bullwhip. The sight of this only sent Bill into further hysterics.
“I like avocados. In a completely non-sexual manner!” screamed Bill, rather randomly.
“Oh, that was the safe word the other dominatrix used”
“Who’s that? I might know her” said Laura.
“...It was Jo alright!?”
“Jo?” questioned Luigi.
“Jo, Jo, bloody Jo! Your darling wife to be!”
Stunned, Luigi let go of his friend and stood there despondent for a few seconds. He felt his heart wrench in his chest. He was sure he was having a heart attack. Or maybe his soul was dying inside. Although now dead, he was able to continue his quest, and as you'll see in five paragraphs, he will be successful when the story concludes.
“That’s right, hubby!”
Everyone turned around to see Jo stood in the church doorway, wearing a bright pink cat suit. She was surrounded by a bunch of other women who were wearing sashes saying “hen party”. Luigi realised that this was all part of their hen party fun, but it didn’t heal the pain of finding out that his future bride enjoyed a sexualised role play session with his best friend. Even though the hypocrisy of his earlier absinthe-fuelled furry sex wasn’t lost on him, it didn’t alter his booze-addled feelings.
“Wait!” Shouted the vicar “You hen’s can’t come in here! Hens and stags cannot come together on the same night as the matrimonial forces at work can exponentially increase, causing a tear in reality and leaving a vortex through which Satan can enter this Earthly realm!”
“Too late!” boomed a small Chihuahua just behind the hens. Luigi recognised the dog. It was his own. The one he’d thrown out of his apartment for spraying dog semen all over his cushions. “And now you shall pay for throwing me out in the cold!” the dog proclaimed as its eyes turned red and flames began to engulf it.
And then everyone, the Armageddon actually did come to pass, and everyone died a very painful death.