The Goddess of No-Uranium-Boxers
Jorge Sector-Pliers was inconsolable. He found out that the uranium boxer shorts he so joyously ordered in a previous life and were finally due to ship, had been discontinued. Banned, actually. Aghast with disbelief, a crude intolerance overcame him. He immediately slid down the fireman’s pole that ran through the seven floors of his weird contemporary house he knew none of his neighbors liked. The squeaky noise his hands made as he accelerated towards the planet’s surface from the 7th floor pleased him. For this reason he swore never to wear hand lotion.
It was about that time that a super-powerful Goddess teleported right into Jorge’s luxury mudroom, just as he was about to leave to run full-ass fast towards the capital of Whatevsville where he knew legislators lay legislating. Jorge knew the ubie leggie (short for uranium boxers legislation) had to be reversed, but how?
The sight of the Goddess barely made him bat an eyelash, though she had, like, six wings and was radiating an awful lot of light for someone not to notice, even someone distracted by irrational anger. But notice her he did not.
She just smiled brightly and morphed into a sweet dirt bike. A playful, telepathic caress licked Jorge’s mind. “Hop on,” she kythed. A sexy phrase and speed made reality — soon everything blurred into long streaky lines as Jorge raced towards the capital on the Goddess-dirtbike (he wouldn’t dare call it his) at probably three-hundred miles an hour if it was twenty.
Mr. Sector-Pliers rode right up the steps of the capital building and leapt off the still moving Goddess-dirtbike, his feet skimming along the ground before he could fully catch himself. Suddenly he stopped, and coming to his senses turned around to face the Goddess, who had transformed back into her chill form with six wings and light and all that. Although it’s unimportant to the story, she was dead sexy. Jorge started to speak but realized he didn’t have to. “Thank you,” he responded in a mind-meldy way.
The Goddess just smiled, and morphed into a pineapple for the hell of it. Then she vanished slowly in the most beautiful way imaginable. It was at that point that Jorge Pliers decided he’d rather just have a pineapple and it was probably best to give up the whole uranium boxers thing anyway. Jorge returned home empty-handed and realized he’d forgotten to get a pineapple. He was so pissed off he vanished! Just think, if he’d remained calm, he could’ve had a pineapple, and possibly on a cloud if he was lucky!!