Funny Short Story

The Scourge Of The Galaxy
The pretty researcher walked up to the shack where he supposedly lived. Wendy had heard many stories about the scourge, but she had never seen him for herself. He was a local legend, and she had decided to do her thesis on this obese male. She knocked on the cheap wood door of the shanty, and the door fell off. Wendy anxiously tried to pick the door up, but before she could pick it up, a high-pitched bark came from the dark corridor of the hut. “It’s alright, girlie. Just leave it and come inside.” She complied quickly, stepping inside. The stench was almost unbearable, a mixture of rancid sweat, rotten food and flatulence. She tried to hold back a small moan, but failed utterly, as she stepped cautiously across the floor strewn with garbage. The scourge was reclined in a La-Z-Boy, his face cloaked in shadow. He spoke again, and the girlish voice was a shock.
“Have a seat, beautiful. I suppose you’re that girl from the brothel that I called for three months ago. I’d almost given up on you, baby.” Wendy quickly decided not to contradict the huge man. She figured that it’d be more interesting for her paper, if she let him think she was a prostitute. She could always run out, she reasoned. She nodded quickly, and he shifted in his recliner, sending vibrations resounding around the hovel. “Sweet thing, come closer so Herbie can see you, honey.” Wendy gulped uncomfortably and moved closer to the scourge, which was a bad idea.
It was sickening, being this close. The scourge was wearing just a red sequined thong, which was protruding dangerously tight in the front, threatening to split at any moment. He had exactly four long greasy hairs on the top of his bald head, and hair grew in oddly shaped patches on his legs and chest. His nipples were pierced with safety pins, and rolls of fat hung off his body. He weighed three hundred pounds. He had a long sparsely haired goatee in the Fu Manchu style. Bits of moldy food were hanging at various places on the goatee. His eyes were beady and calculating. He had thin wet lips, which he licked constantly. He also wore a pair of shocking pink and dirty brown argyle socks pulled up to his calves. His nose was more of a pig snout than a nose, and he had exactly seven brown, crooked teeth in his mouth.
Wendy tried to suppress the vomit rushing quickly to her mouth, and said, “Hello, Herbie.” The scourge looked confused and then took in a sharp intake of breath, “Oh no, hot stuff. I’m Rupert. This here is Herbie.” She glanced in the direction that he was gesturing in, and found herself looking right at the red sequined thong. Rupert smiled a greedy smile, and said, “You haven’t said a proper hello to Herbie yet, darling.” Wendy tried to smile, but ended up looking like she was about to upchuck. She said, “Oh, now, behave. Rupert, we have to get to know each other first.”
Rupert looked disappointed but perked up quickly. “Well, if we’re not going to introduce you to Herbie just yet, then I guess I’ll just have a bite to eat. Then we’ll get down to business, baby. I’ll just warm Herbie up a little bit for you, gorgeous.” With one hand, he proceeded with the task of warming Herbie up. With the other hand, he grabbed two huge bags of garlic and onion Ruffles chips. He began to munch away, busy with both hands. Grunts and moans came out of his mouth as Wendy recoiled in horror. Finally, the hands came to a rest, and two empty bags fluttered to meet the rest of the garbage on the floor.
“Now let’s have some fun with Herbie, sweetie. You can give him a nice kiss hello to start with.” Wendy backed away, and said sweetly, “Oh no. We haven’t talked, baby.” Rupert looked affronted, “But Herbie’s all warm, honey.” Wendy smiled at him and said, “You just keep him warm. Let’s shoot the breeze. Tell me about yourself.”
“Herbie can tell you about me. I can’t tell no story. Herbie can.” Rupert started to stand to untie the thong. Disgusted, Wendy pushed his shoulder to force him back into the chair. Quickly, Rupert grabbed her hand and held on with a vise-like grip. Horrified, Wendy tried to extricate her hand from his fat fingers. He muttered, “But, baby, I just want to kiss your han’ that’s all.” Wendy disgustedly submitted as he drew her hand up to his mouth. She turned her head away so she wouldn’t hurl. Suddenly, she felt something wet and slimy around her middle finger. Quickly, she looked back at Rupert. He was sucking and licking her finger. Sickened, she snatched her hand away from him.

Rupert looked fed up and red in the face. “I’ve had enough of your games, slut. Let’s play with Herbie now.” He lumbered up from his recliner, and Wendy bolted out the door.
That thesis never did get written, and Wendy had ten years of therapy.

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