The Eighth Plague: A Narrative of Sex, Drugs, and Rock 'n' Roll

Chapter 9: That's Amore

They were about halfway to the moon when they discovered the cocaine hidden in the glove compartment, distributed between several thermoses labeled "Cocaine."

The majority of the first thermos was spoon-fed to Major Collins in an attempt to get him back to normal. This worked, but at the cost of totally frying the speech centers of his brain.

As a newly-functioning Collins piloted the dirigible, the rest of the group (Doris, Spade, The Arab, Martie, Margie, The Confederate, The Chinese, The Samoan, and The Swede) got massively baked.

Naturally, they didn't snort several thermoses of cocaine in a single day. This would kill even the most prodigious of experimenters and the most hardened of users. The cocaine, along with the contents of the dirigible's spacious pantry (which was stocked with thousands of the kind of high-quality thanksgiving dinners that everyone's grandma used to make), was consumed in a span of 142.5 days, roughly the duration of a trip from halfway to the moon by dirigible.

Those days were among the happiest days of their lives. There is no sex to be had quite like cocaine-fueled group sex while floating through the starry abyss of the cosmos, nor is there any kind of meal to be had like a post-coital double-portion thanksgiving feast.

They arrived on the moon on the 25th in the August of '20. The spaceport on the moon had hundreds upon hundreds of rectangular docking spaces built into the side of the very building itself. However, these were all much too small for dirigibles, and so, in unsuccessfully wedging the blimp halfway into one of these crevasses, they caused what was a mostly gas-based machine to burst into flames.

Sadly, The Chinese, The Samoan, and Doris perished in the flames. The rest were able to grab space-helmets and parachutes and leap from the burning wreckage, which was suspended dozens of stories in the air by the building it was wedged into. Unfortunately, as it would turn out, the flames had damaged some of the parachutes, causing Margie and The Swede to be reduced to crimson splatters on the expansive layer of cheese which carpeted the satellite.

The remaining survivors held a brief service during which, Margie's tape player thankfully not being damaged by the fall, they played She Blinded Me With Science, as it was the one song they hadn't let her play. Although they quickly had to stop it because they could only stand so much.

Spade Newhouse took off the pants off his now burnt punchinello costume.

"Let me guess... " Said the young Arab, angrily through the space-helmet comm sytem, "You're still leaving the shirt on, aren't you?"

Spade faltered briefly, before finally removing the Punchinello shirt.

The others all gasped. Located all about his chest were the shrunken and stretched faces of the octuplets he absorbed in the womb.

"Ah! Fuck!" Martie exclaimed.

"Sweet baby Jesus!" hollered the Confederate

"What--" began the Arab, before vomiting in her helmet.

Major Collins just stared in bug-eyed dismay at this.

"Yeah, your clothes got burnt too," said Spade, defensively, "so you'll have to get naked as well."

"What?" Martie laughed, "So we're all just going to walk into the spaceport naked?"

"Sure, just pretend we're in a French comic book," said the Confederate.

"Yeah," said Spade, laughing nervously, "I bet you guys all have weird deformities under your clothes... "

In fact, he already knew that Martie and the Arab had no such deformities. In fact, Martie had had so much work done that she had absolutely no kind of outward problems at all. And the Arab may have had small tits, but the medical journals to not currently count this as a deformity, despite my frequent petitions.

In fact, it was the other two males of the group that Spade hoped would be even worse-looking, physically, so that he could maintain his alpha status and carry on his recent sexual streak despite having revealed the last mortal vestiges of his siblings. This was not so with the Confederate who, apart from a few bullet and appendectomy scars, appeared to have taken very good care of himself. Major Collins on the other hand caused everyone to vomit into their helmets.

I'm not even going to tell you what was going on there.