10 July 2008
The Dirty Cow
Having been cooped up with my man-servant in a dark (and increasingly noxious) tunnel for almost an hour, it was with great relief that we finally resurfaced in my magnificent mansion, via a secret trapdoor which lead us out into my vast, well-stocked library.
“Thank toss for that!” I wheezed, as I climbed out into considerably fresher air. “I do not know what the hell is in your diet of late Botter, but if that foul stench from your backside is anything to go by, then I think I shall have to take radical steps to curb your eating habits, possibly by the rather violent removal of your masticatory faculties.”
“Yes milord. Sorry milord.” Botter apologised.
I stopped to survey my opulent surroundings, when I suddenly stiffened with shock.
Regular readers of these fine journals may recall that I had my personal library built upon last year, which saw the glorious erection (‘erection’ being the entirely correct and applicable word here) of my now infamous Pornographic Wing.
It was in this proud monument to debauchery that I now found myself, but rather than being greeted with shelf after shelf of my perfectly preserved pornographic pamphlets and pictographs, I witnessed something awful; something so terrible it made me doubt the very existence of a God.
There were animals loose in my library.
I could only look on in horror as I beheld squirrels snacking upon my smutty softcovers. Rabbits ravaged my Rubens. Nightingales nested on my nudes. It was a sight so horrifying, dear readers, that I am not ashamed to admit that I sunk to my knees, desperation filling my entire frame.
“Those goddamned Italian rogues!” I wailed, referring to the two ne’er-do-wells who had taken my Estate from me. “What kind of foul creatures are we dealing with here? What kind of depraved mockery of manhood wills such wanton destruction upon such a comprehensive collection of cockery?”
“Um…I…I don’t know,” Botter mumbled.
“We are dealing with truly black-hearted indivivuals here, Botter,” I continued. “Men who are willing to trash such titillating treasures may know no limits, and so we must…be…careful” I slowed, as I watched a cow wander in through the open door of the library. “Botter,” I said quietly, as the docile creature ambled past me. “I am going to ask you something, and I would greatly appreciate an honest and upfront answer.”
“Yes, milord?” Botter said, his voice tinged with nervousness.
The cow stopped to sniff some shelves, and then decided to chew upon a particualrly erotic portrait of one of my former lovers. The beast clearly had good taste in women, it had to be said.
“Botter,” I continued gently. “Is it at all possible that you forgot to close the library door before we set off on our holiday?”
Botter shifted awkwardly on the spot, frantically toying with the rim of his bowler hat which he was now clutching in his grubby little mitts.
“Um…I cannot quite say, milord…it was so long ago…” the wretch whined.
“Yes or no, Botter?” I implored, tapping my foot impatiently.
“Yes, milord,” Botter confessed meekly, his head lowered in shame. “I…I think I did forget to close the door…”
“I see,” I said calmly, striding over to a small stone statuette of the Venus de Milo. “Well, I appreciate your honesty, Botter, and now, if you do not mind, I would like to do one thing.”
“Milord?”
I swept up the statuette with both hands and raised it over my head, my eyes blazing with fury and rage. “I AM GOING TO BASH YOUR GREASY LITTLE SKULL INTO A THOUSAND TINY PIECES, YOU LITTLE TWAT-BAG!” I screamed.
Botter whimpered and dashed off across the room, spouting forth numerous pathetic apologies.
“Come hither!” I cried, lurching after him with the Venus in my grasp. “Come hither, so that I might better clobber you!”
Botter took refuge behind a plinth boasting a rather striking bronze carving of my wondrous self in all my wondrous nakedness, while I ranted and raved after him. Suddenly, however, I was stopped dead in my tracks as I heard distant voices nearing our location.
“I thought I heard someone shouting down here,” said one of the voices, which I recognised as belonging to that dreadful Italian chap.
“Balls!” I hissed. “It’s those ruddy wops!”
“What’ll we do?” Botter whispered back.
“I should leave you to them,” I replied. “I should let them capture you, and let them make meatballs out of…well, your meatballs.”
Botter winced at the very thought of this notion.
“Under the circumstances, however, I am going to suggest that you pull my penis.”
Botter looked bemused at my latest instruction. “Excuse me, milord?” he asked.
“Pull my penis, man! In the name of all that is holy, grab a hold of my todger and give it a damn good yank!”
“Erm…very well, milord,” Botter said, shrugging his shoulders.
“Get away from me!” I hissed, as my man-servant slowly started to unbutton my trousers. “I was not referring to my actual penis, you penis, but rather ‘my’ penis, you penis.”
“Wha-? But I… Oh!” Botter clapped his hands to the side of his head in utter despair, taking on the semblance of a man who was about to have his brain explode from the inside out.
“Oh, never mind,” I sighed as the Italians’ foot-steps drew nearer. “Allow me!”
With that, I leant past my man-servant and grabbed a hold of the proud, bronze boner sported by the statuette of my fantastic self. Then I heaved upon the solid member, pulling and heaving with all my might.
It was not the first time I had found myself in my library, tugging on my todger, I mused.
I carried on until the statue’s stiffy was ponting downwards, at which point a series of clunks and whirrs heralded the unveiling of yet another secret passageway, as one of the bookcases slowly slid aside.
“There we go!” I beamed. “Now come on, Botter! Quick sharp!”
We dived into the gloom of the new tunnel, and watched as the bookcase slid back over the entrance behind us. It closed shut with a satisfying thud, and we were back in darkness once more.
“Where are we going now, milord?” Botter enquired, as I set about relighting my lantern. “Where does this passageway lead to, exactly?”
“It leads to the vey bowels of the mansion, Botter,” I said grimly, holding the lit lantern up to my face. “It leads to a place so terribly depraved and twisted that few men ever come out with their sensibilities or genitals intact. Botter, you must brace yourself, for we are going to…THE LOVE DUNGEON!“
- Lord Likely.
Next Time in The Astonishing Adventures of Lord Likely: Terror in the Love Dungeon!
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