Lisa was thankful she had eleven syringes on hand. In fact, she had many, many more, individually wrapped, in a box at the back of her closet: One never knows when they'll need a metric ton of syringes, do they?
She sat at her desk and filled each of the eleven with serum, being careful not to spill any. As she did so, Charles padded into the room and sat at her feet, his head cocked quizzically. She was aware of his presence but ignored him: The memory of what they did turned her stomach. It wasn't his fault, of course, as he was simply an animal following its primal instincts, but she could barely stand to think of him right now. "Go away," she said, setting a syringe aside and picking up another. Charles whimpered. "While I enjoyed our...time together...while it was happening, I was not in possession of my full mental faculties, and, as such, acted irrationally. What occurred was a one-time event and will never be repeated. Do you understand?"
Charles bowed his head and padded sadly away, passing Lucy as she came into the room. "Uh...we're going to need more serum."
Lisa's head whipped around. "Why?"
"Because Bobby, Ronnie Anne, Mr. Grouse, and that Carol girl Lori doesn't like are here." She held up a finger at each name.
"Oh. Jesus," Lisa said, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Are they engaging in sexual activity?"
"Oh yeah."
Son of a bitch.
Lisa held her hands up and hooked her fingers into talons. "I ought to inject them with cyanide and bury their carcasses in the backyard." She turned. "Lovely. Just goddamn perfect." She sighed. "It won't take very long to whip up four extra doses." She turned to her sister. "Do me a favor." She opened a drawer and took something out. Lucy's eyes widened when she saw what it was: A revolver. "Stand by the front door and make sure no one else comes in." She held the gun out and Lucy came tentatively forward, reaching out with a shaky hand.
"Go on, goddamn it," Lisa said, "it's a gun not a fucking piranha."
Lisa was very annoyed.
Lucy took the gun and hefted it. "No one comes into this house," Lisa said. "And no one leaves, for that matter, though in their current state I doubt our relatives and their associates will attempt going out into the world. They have all everything they need right here."
While Lucy went downstairs, Lisa set about making more serum. A half an hour later, she added four new syringes to the batch and then carefully put them all onto a serving tray. Knowing her luck, Lincoln French kissed Lucy and she became reinfected. I swear to God I'll shoot them all...
She wouldn't have, for the record.
In the living room, Lucy was leaning against the front door with her arms crossed, the barrel of the gun poking out from her armpit. When she saw Lisa, she stood up straight. "Are you done?"
"Yes," Lisa said, "I am done. Where are they?"
"The basement," Lucy said, and looked down at her shoes.
"Doing?"
Lucy shrugged.
"You saw it, didn't you?"
Lucy hesitated, then nodded. "It wasn't pretty."
"I didn't think it would be."
"It's hard to tell where one person ends and another begins."
An image flickered through Lisa's mind, and she shuddered. She had read about Roman orgies, and had hoped she would never see (or smell) one up close. It looked like her hopes were about to be dashed.
"Well, come on," she said, gesturing toward the kitchen with her head, "let's end this and begin the long journey back to normalcy...or a semblance thereof." In the kitchen, she stepped aside and let Lucy open the door. The stale, musky smell sexual arousal, climax, and...God, was that fecal matter?...jammed itself into her nose and shoved her back. "Good God," she gagged.
"It's even worse than it was fifteen minutes ago," Lucy said, covering her face with her hands.
"When this is over," Lisa said, "you and I are going to bleach the entire house. I'd say burn it, but, unfortunately, our insurance policy does not cover mercy arson." Taking a deep breath, she started down the stairs. The sounds of grunting, slapping flesh, moaning, and ragged exhalations drifted from below, and Lisa could not help but think of Dante descending into the inferno. She imagined the things he heard as he sank into Hell were much like what she was hearing now.
At the bottom, she turned to the left, and her jaw fell open. Lisa had long ago stopped putting stock into her brother and sisters' observations. Children are prone to exaggeration even if they don't mean to exaggerate. Lucy, however, was right: You could scarcely pick a single person out of the writhing, fleshy mass. In cartoons, characters sometimes wind up in an altercation which turns into a dust cloud from which fists, blackened eyes, and other limbs may be briefly visible. This is called, by some, a "Big Ball of Violence." What greeted Lisa in the basement of the Loud house was a Big Ball of Sex. She saw a penis thrusting into midair, a nipple, Mr. Grouse's face (she didn't remember his mustache being brown...), the business end of a cracking whip, Ronnie Anne Santiago's hand gripping a second penis (from the skin tone, Lisa inferred that it was her brother's...Ronnie Anne's, not Lisa's), Luan's bloodied nose.
"They're ripping each other apart," Lucy said.
Lisa cleared her throat. "Excuse me!"
No one acknowledged her presence. "Excuse me!" she said louder.
Still, no one even so much as looked at her.
"I'M SPEAKING, GODDAMN IT!"
Nothing.
"Bastards," she spat. She glanced around, saw an empty patch of floor, and sat the serving tray down. "Give me my gun," Lisa said, and snatched the revolver out of Lucy's hand. She aimed at the ceiling and pulled the trigger three times, the reports filling the small space like God's wrath. The Big Ball of Sex came to a grinding halt, everyone looking at Lisa. Mom was sitting on Mr. Grouse's back, the tip of a riding crop suspended in a downward arch; one of Lynn's breasts was in Lincoln's mouth, her powerful legs wrapped around his hips; Carol Pingrey was bent over with his ass in Lana's face and her own face in Lori's crotch; Luna was squatting over Lola, piss still dribbling from between her legs in a yellow trickle; the tip of Bobby's penis hovered inches away from his sister's open mouth; Leni was bent over, Dad standing behind her with a sweaty face. "Hi, Lisa," she said brightly, "hi, Lucy."
Lisa lowered the gun and tossed an errant strand of hair from her face. "Are we having fun?" she asked archly.
Everyone looked at each other. "Yeah,"; "Sure am!"; "I'm having a blast!"; "I'm sticky and dirty and gross and it's so hot!"; "I've never cum so much in my life!"; "I am literally having a ball!"
"Good, good, good," Lisa said. "I'm glad you're enjoying yourselves. Because I care about your...pleasure...I have developed a serum that will make your experience ten times better. All you have to do is let me administer a shot to your arm." She bent over the tray and picked up one of the syringes. "Any takers?" she asked as she turned.
Everyone was already lined up.
Well...this was easier than she thought it would be. "Lucy," she said, "drag that kitchen chair over here – the one with the wobbly leg."
Lucy went over to Dad's work bench and grabbed the chair, bringing it over and setting it next to Lisa. "Alright," Lisa said, and patted it, "let's get this party started, shall we?"
Lola was first. She was nude save for her tiara and a pair of pink stockings. "Princesses go first," she said haughtily, cutting in front of Lynn. Lisa realized she didn't bring any Band-Aids or cotton swabs. Oh well. When the needle sank into Lola's flesh, she jumped. "Oooo, kinky."
"Indeed," Lisa said, "next."
Lynn, absolutely stark naked, took her place. "Alright, doc, hurry it up," she said, "I wanna get back in the game."
"I bet you do," Lisa remarked as she picked up another syringe. Lynn took the shot like a champ, then got up and went after Lola, who ran and giggled. "You can't catch me!" the little girl cried.
While Lynn knocked her younger sister to the ground and began...doing things to her...Carol Pingrey sat. She was dressed, at least; her blonde hair was messed and her skirt was peppered with wet spots. Lisa didn't have to wonder what it was: She smelled it. "How did you get involved in this?" Lisa asked, taking up another needle.
"Your brother seduced me," she grinned.
"Hey," Lincoln called from the line, "it takes two to tango!"
"Best dance of my life," she said, then "Ow!" when Lisa poked her.
Mom followed. Lisa lifted an eyebrow at her attire: Black leather leotard, big black boots, and what appeared to be some kind of military officer's cap. Up until today, Lisa did not know that her mother was a dominatrix...and she could have spent the rest of her life happy in that ignorance. "Make it hurt," Mom said.
Lisa jabbed her.
"Break the needle off."
"Mother," Lisa cautioned, "my breaking the needle off may..."
"Do it!"
Lisa sighed and jerked the syringe; the needle snapped, and half of it jutted from her mother's arm. "There...happy?"
"Yes," Mom said. She got up, went to Carol, and the two began to make out.
"Ah, Lincoln," Lisa said when her brother sat. Of all the things she had done that day, the only one she didn't regret was having sex with Lincoln. She did not feel a physical stirring at the memory, but her heartbeat did quicken. She fondly rubbed the top of his head and he giggled. "You're going to hate yourself in thirty to forty-five minutes, Lincoln, but you're an amazing individual and I feel honored to be your sister."
"Uhhh...thanks," he said, and drew her into a one-armed hug.
"You might feel a little sting," she said, then jabbed him. He winced, and Lisa winced too. "Sorry." She depressed the plunger, then carefully pulled the needle out. "Are you alright?" she worried. "Do you need anything?"
He shook his head. "I'm good."
She smiled. "Next."
Ronnie Anne plopped down and held out her arm. "Make it snappy, I'm two seconds from blowing my girl load."
"And 2,700 seconds from wishing you hadn't gotten out of bed this morning." She jammed the needle into her arm, and she hissed.
"Next victim?"
Luna sat. Lisa noticed a series of ugly purplish bruises on her shoulder and the side of her neck. "What happened?" Lisa asked, poking one of them with her finger.
"Huh?" Luna craned her neck, and smiled. "Oh, Lincoln got a little too into the rhythm, you know what I'm saying?"
Lisa stared blankly at her older sister. Lucy leaned in and cupped her hand to Lisa's ear. "They're hickies. He did it with his mouth."
"Christ above," Lisa sputtered. "And you liked it?"
Luna hmmmmed. "I loved it."
Lisa shook her head. She would never understand what these people found appealing about leather, hickies, and pissing on one another. She sank the needle into Luna's arm and pushed the plunger down.
Next was Mr. Grouse. "This better not make me sick like that damn shot they gave me before I shipped off to Vietnam."
"That was an inoculation against tropical diseases," Lisa explained as she readied his dosage, "meaning that live virus was used. This has no side effects...apart from abiding shame." She plunged the needle into his arm.
When she was finally done, the Big Ball of Sex had reformed. She dropped into the chair and crossed her legs. "What now?" Lucy asked, sitting Indian style next to her.
"We wait," Lisa said. "And if you have a touch of sadist – as I fear I do – you will find mild amusement in the horror they will feel when they realize what they're doing and what they've done."
Lisa crossed her arms and tried not to think of her own horror. I copulated with the family canine. That had to be the most awful act committed that day; everything else paled in comparison.
In the midst of the action, Lincoln shoved Ronnie to the ground and squatted over her. "You're my slut," he said and strained: A clump of feces dropped from his anus and splattered the girl's back. Lucy's jaw dropped and Lisa glanced away, a look of disgust crossing her face.
"I'm your bitch!"
"You're a weak, mushy-gushy little fucking girl!"
"I'm so in love with you! You make my stomach flutter!"
He grabbed his penis, aimed it at the back of her head like a hose, and let loose a torrent of urine. "Oh, my God," Lucy said, and buried her face in her hands.
"I want some!" Carol Pingrey cried. Lisa turned, and wretched when Carol took Lincoln's penis and slipped it into her mouth: Urine still streamed from it. Elsewhere, Mr. Grouse buried his head between Luan's thighs and she rocked her hips against him. Mom bent Dad over and whipped him across the buttocks with the riding crop...the sharp slap made Lisa wince. Bobby mounted Lynn and thrusted into her. Luna kissed Lola passionately while fondling her fairy princess vagina.
"This is better than HBO," Lucy said, and Lisa shot her a withering look. "I was being sarcastic."
Lincoln was lying on the ground now, Carol Pingrey in his lap and bouncing. Ronnie Anne squatted facing Carol and sat on his face; as they both ground their hips, they reached out and played with each other's nipples. Elsewhere, Bobby was bending Luan over and thrusting into her while Dad slid is penis in and out of her mouth.
"I have an idea!" Mom cried, and everyone stopped.
"Oh, God," Lisa muttered. She could only imagine what her mother had in store.
"Conga line!"
The conga line is a novelty dance that was derived from the Cuban carnival dance of the same name and became popular in the US in the 1930s and 1950s. The dancers form a long, processing line, which would usually turn into a circle. What Mom and the others formed was not a conga line.
"God," Lucy said disgustedly, "it's like The Human Centipede."
Mom got down on her hands and knees while Bobby did likewise behind her and pressed his mouth to her anus. Mr. Grouse did thus to Bobby, Ronnie Anne did thus to Mr. Grouse, Lola did thus to Ronnie Anne, until everyone was connected ass-to-mouth. Luna brought up the rear; she pushed a button on a remote control, and suddenly, music filled the basement.
"You put your right foot in
You take your right foot out
You put your right foot in
And you shake it all about
You do the hokey pokey
And you turn yourself around
That's what it's all about."
The line started to move in a wide circle like a hideous train departing a station in hell, each participant swaying to the music and, in unison, throwing out their right foot. Lisa's jaw dropped.
"Just like The Human Centipede," Lucy said.
The dance didn't last long; they broke and went back at it.
Lisa was not religious, but she crossed herself anyway.
Twenty-five minutes after Lisa administered the serum, the dominos began to fall. Almost literally. Lola was the first; she was bouncing on Lana's face, her fingertips rubbing her own nipples, when her pace slowed and a strange expression crossed her face. She looked around, her brow knitting, then lifted up and glanced down. Her eyes widened and her mouth formed a perfect O of surprise. "Ew, gross!" She jumped up and realized she was naked. Her face turned red and she covered her chest and her privates, her knees bowing together.
Lana sat up and rubbed her head. "My mouth tastes funny," she said, smacking her lips.
Ronnie Anne was next. She threw a glance over her shoulder and went white. "Bobby, get off of me!"
Lincoln was holding himself in his hand and rubbing himself vigorously along the cleft of Mom's buttocks. His pace slowed, and Lisa saw horror drawing in his eyes.
"Ew, Mr. Grouse, get your face out of my ass!" Lynn cried.
"WHY AM I COVERED IN SHIT?" Ronnie screamed, jumping to her feet. Her brother, who has so recently been sheathed deep inside her, blew his load; it splattered on the floor in front of Luna, who jumped back. "Jesus, Bobby, that's grody!"
"WHY WERE YOU FUCKING RONNIE ANNE?" Lori screamed. She glanced down at Leni, who knelt between her legs, and gasped. "AND WHY ARE YOU EATING ME?"
Dad rolled on the ground, his hands pressed to his butt and his teeth clenched in pain. Carol Pingrey, hitherto bent with her skirt hiked around her waist, stood up straight, her eyes widening. "Oh, my God!"
Lincoln was on his knees now, his hands pressed to his face as he wept. Ronnie sat nearby, her arms wrapped around her knees; she rocked back and forth, a shell-shocked look in her eyes. Bobby looked around. "Oh, shit," he muttered, and started to cry.
"Come on," Lisa said, getting up. Without asking where they were going, Lucy got up and followed.
It was a long time before they began to trickle out of the basement, their faces drawn and haunted, their eyes downcast and the smell of despair rolling off of them in waves. The pain and discomfort of their escapades was also evident. Bobby could barely walk and Mr. Grouse leaned heavily on his cane. Carol Pingrey, her arms crossed coyly over her stomach, came into the living room and did her best to count the threads in the carpet. Ronnie Anne and Lincoln disappeared into the kitchen, and Lisa heard the sink run. He was probably cleaning her up.
Mom shuffled through the basement door. She hugged herself and shook, hot tears coursing down her cheeks.
"There's a welt the size of Delaware on my ass," Mr. Grouse complained, "someone oughta put you in a mental hospital!"
"I'm so sorry, Mr. Grouse," Mom said.
He stopped and turned, his face darkening when Dad came into the kitchen. "And you, Lynn Loud...from now on, keep your prick out of my mouth!"
Leni came up the stairs next, weeping into her hands. Lori had a comforting arm wrapped around her shoulder. "I fucked an old man!" Leni moaned.
"I fucked a goddamn child," Mr. Grouse said and shuddered, "Jesus Christ, I have great-nieces older than you are!" He slapped a palm to his forehead. "God, what have I done?" The plaintive quality of his voice bothered Lisa greatly.
Ronnie Anne and Lincoln came into the living room, neither looking at each other. He turned to her and opened his mouth to speak, but she pulled away. "See you later," she said flatly, her voice barely above a whisper. A hurt look crossed his face, and his shoulders sagged. He glanced at Carol Pingrey, and she looked like a doe in the headlights. She whipped her head around and faced away from him.
His sag deepened.
"Goddamn it," Lisa sighed. They were far worse off than she had anticipated. She wasn't happy with the things she had done, but she wasn't weeping or turning her back on Lincoln. She didn't want to do this because there were risks involved, but she saw no other way. "Lucy...go in my desk and grab the orange plastic gun. You'll see it. Oh, and the pill bottle labeled LORI."
"Another gun?"
"Now, Lucy."
Lucy nodded and rushed up the stairs.
"Out of my way, little girl," Mr. Grouse said as he hobbled toward the door. "I need to take a long, hot shower and say a rosary or a thousand."
"Not yet," Lisa said.
"I said get..."
Lisa whipped the revolver out of her waistband and pointed it at him. His jaw dropped. "No one's going anywhere until I...administer a test."
"W-What kind of test?" Carol asked.
Lucy came down the stairs with something in her hand. It was orange and shaped like a gun with a satellite dish-like cone sprouting from the barrel. Lisa took it and the pills. "Everyone...gather around and look at me, please." Lisa glanced at Lucy. "You too."
Without a word, Lucy walked over and stood among the others.
"What is this, Lisa?" Mom asked.
"I just wanna go home," Ronnie said and hugged herself.
"Just look at me," Lisa said, and aimed the gun. Dad started to protest, but Lisa pulled the trigger, and a bright light flashed.
No one moved.
Their eyes were all wide and bleary. Lisa tossed the gun aside and twisted the cap off the pill bottle. "Take one of these," she said, and shook a pill into Carol Pingrey's hand. She went to Ronnie Anne. "Take one." Lynn, Luna, Luan, Lori, Leni, Lucy, Mom. To be safe, she gave one each to Lola and Lana. "This is a version of Plan B that will vacate any pregnancies." They did not understand her, but she spoke anyway. "You won't remember what happened here today, and that may very well be for the best. I sincerely apologize for causing this and for not being able to rise above my own lust and stop it sooner. Carol, Bobby, Ronnie, and Mr. Grouse...go home and get some rest. You've had a lot of exercise today." She looked at her family. "And all of you...go to your rooms."
Everyone obeyed without question. In her own room, Lisa shut the door and leaned against it. She briefly considered wiping her own memory. God knows she wanted to. Someone, however, had to remember what happened here today, and that burden fell to her.
"It sure doesn't fall to you," Lisa said, peering over the rail of the crib at her napping sister.
With a sigh, she went over to her bed and collapsed onto it. What a day...
She thought back to the warm tingly feeling that enveloped her after she and Lincoln copulated that morning.
It fell to her to remember that always...and to always cherish it.
When she fell asleep moments later, she was smiling.