Chapter 1

Rick tries to not remember the day he lost his virginity, nor the woman he had lost it too. But sometimes, when Flesh Curtains had just finished a show and were perusing bars with a groupie on each arm, he would pass by some saggy, croaky-sounding, bottle blonde and would shudder at the very memory. And while his admirer's would ask him what was wrong or if he was cold, Birdperson and Squanchy would immediately know what was wrong. Rick had told them long ago of the housewife whose pool he cleaned and spent a horrendous evening with in the garage, and even they felt for Rick. Everybody's first time is less than pleasant, but Rick's time spent flopping about on foam noodles was quite the horror fest.

Years later, Rick was just as skinny, but far less sweaty, nervous, and lacking in the bedroom. In fact, he had gained quite a talent with "pleasuring". Rick's previous code of never really saying "no" had earned him a bundle of STD's, but also a far amount of experience - that sometimes caused people to be a bit too clingy. After the band had done a show on Planet Parblesnops, Rick had spent the night with a Greepybobe who refused to let Rick leave the morning after - claiming that the orifice Rick had "discovered" had changed the Greepybobe's life, and Rick was to stay...forever. Long story short, that Greepybobe was Flesh Curtain's keyboard player, and self-titled fiancee to Rick, for a few months until Rick managed to abandon him at a Blips and Chitz's BDSM simulator. And this sort of thing occurred on-and-off throughout Flesh Curtain's run. If the band ever had an extra player, it was usually someone that had become attached to Rick. and would eventually leave on their own terms. Rick, except for a few psychotic bitches, never really had a situation where he broke a heart, as he had the patience to wait for his admirer to lose interest in him. That was until Nimba.

Flesh Curtains was burdened by Nimba after a visit to the Woostra Planet, a planet dominated by what was the equivalent to a human male: an inseminating gender that was incapable of actually bearing an offspring, known as a Wooster. Maybe if Rick had been a little bit more sober and not so busy snorting Collaxion crystals, he would've been baffled by the infantile Woosters crawling amongst the streets of Woostra. But, when you have two busty aliens whipping up Corpse Revivers, even you would be a little distracted.

Actually, Rick didn't even realize that Woostra was single-gender planet until after the rocking show, when he entered the after party to find hoards of blue-skinned, muscled, and hairy fans who had no intention of spending a night with Rick. After two hours of just signing head shots of himself, Rick slumped down at the bar - ordering two shots to hopefully revive himself from this dreary situation. But from the corner of his eye, he noticed the slender hand that passed him his glass. Whipping around, he realized that his bartender, noticeably curvier, softer looking than the rest, was the equivalent of a female: a Woostar.

"W-whoa, where'd -burp- you come from, lil' lady?"

Uncharacteristically, Nimba didn't have one of her usual loud responses. Instead, she mumbled something and looked down at her toes. It wasn't until a slight blush formed on her cheeks that Rick realized how...small the Woostar was. And not in height, but in...frame.

Rick would be lying if he said he hadn't ever been with a minor. Never a child! Rick was into weird stuff, but not that weird. But, yeah, due to Rick never really bothering to ask for anything other than consent, it was very possible that he had been with someone under age a few times. But Nimba not only looked to be quite juvenile, but was certainly not as inviting as the past "youths" he had been with. And when she began to stutter and look down, Rick was met with a rare moment of actual compassion for another being.

"Hey-hey, don't w-worry about it, sweetheart. No need to get all -burp- 'blushy' on me or whatever. 'Cause I-I-I ain't that kinda guy. I won't try anything on you.", He said, absentmindedly dunking down his two shots before overlooking the crowd behind him. Unknown to him, the Woostar, behind her bleached locks, was now staring at him intensely.

"Really? You wouldn't ever...make me do something I didn't want to do?", She murmured, now a little bit more clearer than before.

"Aw, n-nah, Sweetheart. Imma let you d-do you - oop! Gotta fly! I think I see a p-possible -burp- 'closet queen' out on the loose."

And with that, he dissipated in with the crowd of broad shoulders and strong jaws. But Nimba's eyes never stopped searching for him.

Rick woke up that morning feeling horrible. He was in the pitiful flying piece of crap that Squanchy liked to call a spaceship, that, despite its decrepit nature - with alien roaches and ominous stains, did have multiple rooms for all three members - making it a far better mode of transportation over Rick's cramped flying saucer. His room was possibly the most grotesque area, with it containing a few raunchy posters, liters of crumpled beer cans, and a single, soiled mattress. And today, he woke to find somebody else in that bed with him.

While waking up accompanied wasn't uncommon, Rick clearly remembered that the highly confused and questioning Wooster, who had scuttled from his room in the wee hours of the morning, was suppose to be his only guest. And, even more perplexing, was that the figure under his blanket was something of a voluptuous shape. Rubbing out the sleep from his bloodshot eyes, Rick ripped away the blanket to find fucking Phoebe Cates.

The Phoebe Cates, or, more commonly known as Linda Barrett from Fast Times at Ridgemont High. Rick rubbed his eyes, but when he still saw the sleeping brunette by his side, he chose to take more drastic measures. Using a stray fork amongst the clutter, he harshly stabbed himself in the knee - drawing droplets of blood where the feeling of searing pain formed. Now, Rick was fully awake - but Phoebe Cates was still there.

He flung himself out of bed, not minding the brisk cold air that came due to him wearing nothing but his usual choker and wristband. So many things were wrong with this situation. Phoebe Cates, the real one at least, had been dead for years and was no longer the fantasy of every teenage boy in the 80's. The only reason Rick even knew of her was because of the old VCR tapes he found in a garbage dump as a kid. And, after seeing the famous "swimming pool scene" just once, Rick spent the ages of 13 t o14 jacking himself off to that very image replaying in his head. And now, here she was. In his bed. The long deceased woman of his dreams was sleeping in his bed. And Rick couldn't really recall all of last night, but he was pretty sure he would've remembered traveling to another dimension to fetch young Phoebe Cates and bringing her back to his original one. With all of his "experimenting" beneath bed sheets last night, when would he have found time to attain a fucking deceased sex idol.

Hurriedly, Rick pulled on some pants and rushed off to Squanchy's room. Flinging the door open, not even perturbed by Squanchy's wearing of a noose while doing some "frowned upon" activities, Rick asked, "Did -burp- did we travel back in time a-a-and bring back a young Phoebe Cates?"

"Who!?" was all Squanchy said. Groaning, Rick moved onto Birdperson's room, but was only met with a similar response. The three ended up huddled around Rick's doorway, all staring at the now empty bed.

"Rick, you appear to be hallucinating, for the 'Phoebe Cates' you speak of is not visible to your peers.", Birdperson remarked as Rick gawked at his empty room. Rick began to stutter something, but stopped when all three heard the sound of humming from the kitchen.

And there, all three found Phoebe Cates, wearing chunky socks and Rick's old, sweaty, oversized muscle tee he had worn last night, standing at a sizzling frying pan. When she turned to find three pairs of wide eyes all staring at her, she simply chimed "Good Morning! Won't you come eat?". Numbly, Rick sat down while Squanchy and Birdperson relaxed into their seats, unphased by what they believed to just be another one of Rick's "admirers" who would be hanging with the band until she ended up drifting away. But Rick was terrified. While he questioned his sanity, he never questioned his memory. He was a genius after all! Every textbook he read was, word by word, imprinted into his brain. But now, it seemed he was forgetting whole days spent picking up women from alternate realities.

Calmly, Phoebe Cates put a stray can and banana peel from the floor into the frying pan, humming as she did so. The three then eyed each other, wondering if maybe this Phoebe Cates was blind or something.

"Um, you know you can't really...squanch that. Right?" Squanchy said.

"Oh, yeah. Probably. I mean, everything I know about human cooking came from Rick's fantasies - so, I guess that's not much." She said, nonchalantly.

"Uh, what?"

"Don't you remember me?", She said to Rick, placing a plate of grilled banana peel and beer can on the table. "We talked at the bar last night."

"Uh, no. I think I-I would've remembered a conversation with fricken' Phoebe Cates."

"Oh no, I'm not really Phoebe Cates!"

"Pardon?" Birdperson said.

"I was your bartender from last night!"

The memory of a white haired, green skinned, blushing teenage Woostar came into Rick's head.

"Are you sure!? Because the person who gave me my drinks was this...blushing teenage fish girl named...uh...eh...Ni-something….Nimbsy...Niva….?."

"The name's Nimba. And that's how all Woostar's look. Usually."

"What happened then? When did you become so...different?"

"Don't you see?"

Rick, again, looked to his friends, wondering if the answer was obvious and he was just oblivious. But they all look just as confused as him.

"When a Woostar falls in love with another, she changes to resemble their deepest fantasy!"

Nimba then dropped to the ground to retrieve a stray tennis ball that had rolled into her ankles, which she then attempted to juice. It wasn't until Squanchy cleared his throat that Rick came back his stunned stupor.

"Um...why are you trying to squanch that tennis ball, Nimba?"

Not even turning from the now flattened sphere, she calmly said, "Well, I'm Rick's fantasy. And one of Rick's fantasy is to have Phoebe Cates make him breakfast. However, he didn't specify what he wants Phoebe Cates to make him for breakfast - or, really, how to cook either. Based on that untouched plate of banana peel I just served you, I must be doing something wrong right now."

"Well, typically, a warmed banana peel and tin can is not considered edible by the human race.", Birdman explained.

"Well, I can learn to cook. And, then, I can make Rick as much breakfast as he wants."

Finally, after being in stunned silence for so long, Rick spoke up.

"So is that the plan? You're just here. Making us all breakfast? And I can have you look like...whatever I want?"

"Anything that your heart desires!", She said, placing a glass full of neon fuzz on the table.

Rick then gave Birdperson and Squanchy a familiar, suave side eye - one that was seen every time Flesh Curtains had just gained a new backup bassist or something, that would, eventually, be abandoned. The three all silently agreed that the olive skinned woman, humming as she washed plates at the kitchen, was only a temporary addition to the band. And, in that moment, Rick even considered himself fortunate. He had picked up an alien that would always be extremely attractive in his eyes. What could go wrong?