Menacing Mission: Week 4

So I arrive safely in the state of Maine with nothing but $5 and the "will" to find Calzone.
Not that you really need a will to find Calzone... rather you should HAVE a will made before you DO find Calzone.

The flight was a little bumpy due to turbulence, but was still quite a bit more comfortable than the last few weeks of Truckin' road trips with psycho long-haulers that I'd had. I was able to sleep without one eye open and duct tape on the fly of my jeans. Though I still smelt a bit odd from pissing myself and the rotting Calzone in my carry-on.

I hailed a quick taxi and brushed up on my bastard punjabian speaking skills, hoping he knew where to find "Mr. Calzones" house... It was clear after an hour of driving that we were nowhere near any convenient destination so I grabbed the (still) leaking and volatile Calzone out of my backpack and shoved it over the seat near his face.

I could see my attempts at "visual communications" were not appreciated as he spat at me throughout his foreign profanities and dropped me at Perry's Nuthouse in Greenville.

But ooooo Perry's Nuthouse was indeed a gem and I was not too upset to be stranded in such a wonderful assortment of taxidermied animals and the "Man Killer Clam" exhibit.

I meandered through the mess in awe at the intricate way each item in particular was preserved. I did happen to pet a few that I was particularly fond of...

And stuffed the, well, stuffed squirrel in my purse in case I happened to bump into Bostick on my journeys. I also grabbed a yak for Carl... and dragged it out on a leash as if to trick the owner "Perry"... who was not tricked, but instead treated at my methods of kleptomania.

Perry himself seemed an okay guy. We sipped a Gin and Sprite as we discussed the "101 ways to stuff your fist up the asshole of roadkill"... Charming conversationalist that Perry, almost had me convinced that he could fist enough cotton up my ass to qualify me as a Cabbage Patch Doll.

I, of course, was more interested in the topic of stuffing anything up somebody elses ass....Which took us to Road kill Cafe after his museum closed for a nice candlelit dinner over O-rings and Chicken Knuckles.

I got drunk off of Possums blood while watching him snort the ashes of dead elk between the main course and dessert... Dude did at least 7 lines and bogarted it all. Ass.

We were good for a quick round of Karaoke before we jolted into the night singing Frank Sinatra ditties bound for Scarborough where Perry mentioned he knew Calzone and would be more than happy to take me to him for a deal.

"Oh yeah, I've been stuffing Calzone for years... HUGE sphincter that one, and never too tight. In payment for my delivery services I'll gladly take your fingernails."

"Excuse me? Did you say you wanted my fingernails?"
"Yes, your fingernails. I will take you to Calzone for the price of your fingernails."
"... Well how do you suppose I give you those Perry? I'm sort of attached to them at this point."
"Calzone has ways of removing them. Is it a deal? I want to put them in my museum next to Marilyns implants."

I thought long and hard over how important my fingernails would be to me in the future, and if the importance of finding Johnny Menace dictated a sacrifice such as this...

"How about just a thumb?"
"No, the full set."
"Shit, can I keep my toe nails?"
"Yes."
"Well alright then, I'm sold... Let's go to Scarborough."

We arrived in Scarborough in about 2 hours... It was dawn and the sunrise was spectacular. Of course I was focused on how to wiggle out of my bloody fingernail sacrifice, but found myself in awe of the pinks and golds of the sunrise as they crested from the Atlantic Ocean.

Perry slammed on the brakes abruptly outside of a candy shop called "Len Libby's Candies". His face showed a rambunctious excitement, so I figured this is where Calzone lived and Perry was one step closer to getting my digit clicks. As we approached the front door of the shop I noticed it was dark still and not open for business.

"Perry, what are we doing here? Is this where Calzone lives?"
"No ma'am, this is where we find cinnamon bears..."
"Cinnamon bears? We need cinnamon bears before we can see Calzone?
"Nope. I just like me some cinnamon bears."

To make a long story short we busted into Len Libbys for a 5 gallon barrel of cinnamon bears (for Perry), and 17 Mongo size chocolate bars (for me). But this mission did not go flawlessly, noooo... It went badly... and all at the cost of a fucking Moose named Len.

Made completely out of chocolate.
Fuck the bars. I'm taking a horn, or maybe two...
Hmm... is there a penis on this thing made of chocolate?
Holy fuck there is.
Moose horns and penis... made of chocolate. I'm owning this.

Perry, who was not as amazed at this discovery as I was, began to get restless at the longevity of the break-in plan. His way of rushing me to finish with my Moose d'cotuer was to come at me with a ice pick made of lemon drops and a 10 ft licorice rope with the intention of tying me to the front counter and having me take the case for the robbery.

In my defense, I beat Perry in the head with my chocolate moose penis until he was deemed unconscious and stuck a jumbo lollipop up his ass... I think I killed him, but no matter... I could now keep my fingernails.

Around 10:am I finally arrived at Calzone's pad. Which to me looked a little bit eclectic... but what do you expect from a Dragon Puppet that plays pool, screws hookers for hobby and jacks peoples 8-balls for fun? We rang the door bell, which may I add rang to the tune of "Girl from Impanema."

Calzone answered in his velvet smoking jacket clutching a cigar and a copy of "Eat Ass" magazine:
"Yo Everything Nice, what's crackin' pin cushion?"

I smiled with a warm welcome and hugged that puppet like I was his bitch "Calzone, I traveled all this way because I was left a clue that perhaps I could find Johnny Menace here..."

I opened my back pack, shoved the chocolate constructed moose penis to the side and removed the smelly Calzone to show... Calzone.

"Whoo Whoo hooch, you don't need to show me nothin' like that stank. I hadn't peeped that dilly in the longest. Actually, since I cleaned the Paddy Wagon pad of it's dope that night back in... shit when was that?" Calzone thought for a moment and coughed up a hairball. "Oh thas right, back in like September."

"So no sign of Johnny Menace here?" I pouted a bit. Seeing that my assessment of Johnny's note was nothing more than a prank.

"Naw.. wait.." Calzone pendered "You mean you didn't come here to fuck me?"

"No.. how the hell do I fuck a puppet? You have no dick Calzone, you do know that... right?"

"Well fuck that noise slut. I'm outie." And with that... Calzone slammed the door in my face and I was left to sit on the front steps with my hand in my chin.

I sat there for a good hour until the door flung open and Calzone pitched a jizz balloon at the back of my head. "Sayin' I aint got no dick dilly?" He screamed "Well take that jizzim shizzim!"

After rubbing the back of my head and tasting the semen that sprayed from the breaking balloon, it was determined that it was actually horse semen, not his own... and I let him know that while I took a shit on his front porch and smeared the rotting Calzone on the hood of his Plymouth Valiant.

On my way out of the yard I saw something written in chalk on the sidewalk. I could barely make it out, but the handwriting seemed familiar.... It read "999 is black death, but 666 is the sign."

So that's how it works then, huh Johnny... I have to see the Devil next, is that it?
Is it that now you and White Devil have both mysteriously disappeared and it is NOT coincidence?
And if I go to White Devil I will somehow find you?
And how the fuck did Calzone play into this?
Was it necessary to be hit in the head with a water balloon of cum before the next step?

Perhaps I should not wash my hair then.. maybe if I step under black light a secret message will appear in it on where to go next?
And maybe it will be written in pagan so only White Devil can interpret it?

Fuck.
I gnawed on one of my chocolate moose horns and withdrew the cash I'd robbed from Len Libby's Candy store as I made my way back to the airport to catch a flight to Maryland and find the mysterious (and often lost) White Devil.

****

The flight from Maine to Maryland was not long, and I found the directions to White Devils domain to be quite clear though the phone conversation with him was anything but. God love white devil.

I appreciated the Devil taking me under his wing for a short time while I searched for Menace around Maryland, and Devil appreciated somebody being there for the chicken skinning and tribal goat legging preparations for the cult seminar and chastity sacrifice this weekend.

It was only a walk to his house from the airport, and one that took me by way of Edgar Allen Poe's Grave site... I stopped for a moment and sucked on the remnants of my moose horn. Poe will always hit a string with me... a deep sentimental one.

I remember faintly when Menace would get upset with me when I would ask for him to read Poe to me before bed time. He would punish me by dunking my head in the shark tank after sticking Reeces Pieces in my nostrils and make me do penance for every time Poe mentions the Raven in text. Then he would spank me with a coat hanger made of barb wire.

Those were good times. I still have the scar on my ear.

The screeching of tires stopped this tender moment in my memory.
As I turned my head to witness the dark figure climbing from the motorcycle, the outline of his shadow was daunting and a bit intimidating... The helmet came off to reveal a smile and the tattoo on his arm was eerily familiar... It was the Devil, and it was time to begin the hard search for the Menace - now.

I ran up to meet him on the street corner and normal conversation "devil-style" ensued:

"Manbutter! So good to see you up close and in person! Thank you for allowing me to stay here for a few days to search for Johnny."
"Ahh, sweet Em, yes, we will trip the light and dive into the dark to find his soul... and then we will eat it and bathe in his afterbirth."
"Sounds like a plan..."
"Sounds like lunch."
"Right, well I am excited to begin our trek around the state... I'm sure if we find Menace he will appreciate it as well.."
"Durr, well he found me when I was lost. And then again."
"So where do we start?" I pulled the chocolate moose penis from my pack "Any ideas on where to look?"
"We will start at the beginning and end at death."

So what does that mean?
Well, it means to travel directly to Annapolis and break into the Nuclear Science building to rub Hyman Rickover's nose for good luck. After being kicked out by security I reported to the Devil that in fact I did make contact with the nose and it was only a matter of time before luck would be upon us.

"Oh" the devil moped "It's a nose... It's not a hymen then? It's a nose..."
"I'm sorry you are disappointed, I have let you down. Well, I could offer you my hymen.. but.."
"Hahaha... I am afraid your hymen is long gone Emma my sweet..."
"No, actually it's here in this masonry jar I keep in my backpack..."

"Ah durr" the devil looked a bit stunned as I pulled the jar from my bag "We must now go to the Urology Museum in Baltimore. Your hymen has stimulated my imagination for our search. I wonder if the Menace is there... either there, or the Great Blacks in Wax... That will be a sure thing. We will then have hot dogs and shower together in pig urine..."

"Well alright then, let's get this show on the road.. oh here, take my hymen first."

And with that we began our drive to Baltimore, where the search got silly... and a bit messy thanks to a broken jar, and a bag of beef jerky.. and of course, the hallmark channel.

Stay tuned....