Kourageous Karl: Drawn Into Hell

ONE

It wasn't the first time Karl had wanted to tell Cindy Curlicue to fuck off and he knew it wouldn't be the last.

Once again, the living doll with her too-big eyes and bountiful locks of curled, strawberry hair was in his face and once again it was all Karl could do to restrain himself. His last run-in with the Thought Police was all too recent and fresh in his mind and he didn't want to do anything to draw their unwanted attention. No matter how cute and cuddly they looked, the pricks on the DUCKLING force knew their business.

No. No matter how much of a bitch Cindy Curlicue was being to him, Karl was just going to have to keep his tongue from getting him into trouble. He merely nodded and tried to keep the urge to punch her off his face.

"We sure are super, duper glad you're here to help, Kourageous Karl!"

Kourageous Karl. He hated the nickname, the way it dripped with wholesome delight off her tiny, red tongue. He could just feel the way she added the "K" to "courageous" in the way her eyes twinkled with mirthful delight as she talked. It was the same whether she was calling him "Kaptain Karl" or "Konquering Karl" or "Kool Karl" or any of her scores of other ridiculous pet names she had for him

"Oh, Kourageous Karl, you're here to save the day and save all of us once again! Without your help, we'd all be doomed to an agonizing death!"

If only that were true, he thought. It's just better to get it over with. Do this one thing and you can leave. Whatever you do, don't ... talk ... back.

Karl mumbled noncommittally and looked to where Cindy and her flock of bright-eyed goats were staring. Up on a hill no taller than he was sat a baby goat, crying tears the size of grapes and alternating between bleating and wailing like a newborn human baby.

"But ... he's trapped?" Karl asked, baffled. It was his general mental state since arriving in this screwed-up land. Nothing made sense.

"Yes, trapped!" cried Cindy Curlicue, her own radiantly blue eyes shedding gigantic tears that, despite their quantity and size, somehow magically failed to mess up her ever-immaculate flowered frock. "Little Baby Buggaboo is stuck and scared and only you can save him, Kourageous Karl!"

Her flock of goats nodded in agreement, earnestly adding their own contribution to the flow of tears.

Karl sighed. He started to question how the young goat could possibly be "trapped" when it could simply walk down off the hill more easily than descending a gentle flight of stairs. However, he knew it would do no good. Cindy's bottom lip had started to quiver and Karl had been down that path before. Logic had no place in her padding-filled head.

Since finding himself sucked into the hellish torment of this overly-cute world, Karl had come to Cindy's aid no fewer than fifteen times. Fully half of those had been rescuing her damned flock from non-existent dangers. One was deemed "lost" because he had strayed more than fifty feet from Cindy's side. Pointing at the goat and shouting, "Get your ass over here!" had brought the Thought Police.

Another had "fallen down a well" and Karl had figured that he was going to have to do some actual work for a change. However, the well turned out to belong to a family of beetles and was a whopping three inches deep. The goat's leg had actually crushed the tiny, pebble-and-stick windlass built over the hole and if anything, had made the hole wider and deeper. Grabbing the goat by its beard and growling, "Get your ass over here!" had once again brought the Thought Police.

One had "died" (it was merely asleep), another was "bleeding to death" (its face was covered in the juice of red berries it had been eating) and yet another had "broken its leg", which had in fact turned out to be true, much to Karl's chagrin. Kicking the goat in the butt hard enough to make it run in fright while shouting, "Get your ass over there!" had proven to be a big mistake.