PART THREE
Lex held the menacing vat of acid over Lana, the helpless pink backpack. The acid hissed and roared at her, growling its frustrated lust at its soon to be hapless victim.
"I'll just test out the corrosivity of this acid," Lex was saying aloud.
He slowly tipped the vat over, and Lana screamed!
But he could not hear her, for she was a backpack, and had no mouth, thus she could not speak.
The door slammed open!
"Lex!" Clark cried, a near scream.
"Huh?" said Lex, turning with a sexily cocked eyebrow, the vat just level enough to keep the acid from pouring upon Lana, yet tipped enough to threaten her with some cruel, malevolent droplets; they glared at her, baring their teeth, muttering, "Damn, we really wanna dissolve that backpack with our acidicness."
There was one lone dissenter among the droplets. His name was Atrayu.
"I must protest!" Atrayu cried, raising a fist heavenwards, his eyes alight with a glow of fresh harmonics. "Our true enemy wears a red tunic. It is alive, or was an hour ago, and if I find him
"Lex," Clark bounded over in two garrulous leaps, and grasped Lex in his manly arms, twirling his friend around happily. "Oh I have not seen you since yesterday! How are you, my friend?"
"Why Clark," Lex said, "I am well."
"Ooh a backpack!" Clark squealed. "I lost my backpack yesterday. Now I have a new one!"
Lex happily proffered the backpack to Clark, gazing longingly at its pink softness. "This backpack will serve you well. If I had but a backpack like this one yesterday, perhaps the day might have been different."
Clark slung the pink backpack over his shoulder, and Lana instantly felt protected by the warm snugness of Clark's curvy body
"Perhaps he knows it is me," Lana whispered to herself. "I thought we had a link, a connection these last few months. Perhaps he has not abandoned me after all. I love you, Clark!" she cried. But he did not hear her, for she was a backpack.
"Cool; anyway, catcha later, Lexy." Clark said with a little wave, and bounded out the door. When he was out of the sight of his sexy friend, he sped up to bolt through the cornfields, zooming quickly.
Fortunately for Clark, Lana did not notice how fast he was running, because they were 1) in the cornfields 2) Young and modern 3) She was a backpack and could not feel 4) ( and most importantly, she was thinking about her dead parents, and remembering the day they abandoned her by letting a meteor smoosh them.
Anyway, Clark ran up to his room, and flopped onto his bed, gazing happily at his new backpack. "Cool, I just saved $8.75," he said to himself aloud. "Now I will be rich one day. Just like I dreamed of when I was evil for a few months and robbing banks."
Clark caressed the backpack with his loving fingers, thinking of how soft, how pink it was. How strangely familiar.
He stood up to go to the bathroom, but hesitated, looking back at the backpack, wondering if he should explain to it why he was abandoning it.
But he decided otherwise, and shook off the impulse to do that, and to explain his secret to it.
"I will not tell this backpack that I am an alien. For it is a backpack, and need not know," Clark said aloud.
Lana shook her backpacky head. "That Clark, he's such a kidder."
She frowned then. "But he has abandoned me yet again."
Floorboards creaked outside the room. She looked hopefully towards the entrance, but her hopes were dashed, dashed brutally and swiftly, with great painful cascades of ferocity. Just like her parents had been dashed brutally and swiftly, with great painful cascades of ferocity beneath the unrelenting fury of the mumbling madness when the precocious meteor crushed them.
For in came Martha Kent.
She stopped short when she saw the backpack, staring in unabashed horror.
"I've seen that look before," Lana whispered. "It came from a Mullah, named Omar, when I was in Egypt. He stared in horror, just like Martha Kent, the mother of my love who's name is Clark. She must recognize me."
"Oh no," Martha whispered. "OH NO!!!! NOOOOOOOO!"
She picked up Lana with brutal swiftness, staring with fury at her. "I told Clark never again to buy pink backpacks with frilly flowers sewn into them! I TOLD HIM!!!! Blue or green, or some primary color, but not PINK."
She pulled a whiskey bottle out of her pocket and broke it brutally against the bed frame. "I will carve this backpack up with swift gashes from my whiskey bottle, I will shred it to pieces. I will show that pretentious little knave that he must never again slander me this way!"
"Nooooo! It's me!" Lana screamed. "Don't abandon me to the brutal fury of that glass you intend to shred me with!" The glass reached its tentacles out towards her, the little stingers of sharpness longing to shred her fabric-y flesh.
"I will shred this now," Martha muttered, enraged. She quickly brought the knife forward to cut Lana to pieces
TO BE CONTINUED?
Is MARTHA GONNA KILL LANA!! WILL SHE EVER REGAIN HER OLD SHIMMERING LOOKS AND FANTASTIC LOCKS OF RAVEN HAIR??? WILL SHE EVER AGAIN MAKE CHLOE JEALOUS, OR WILL MARTHA RUIN HER DREAMS, THE DREAMS OF THIS GORGEOUS, WONDERFUL, BEAUTIFUL, PRETTY WOMAN FOREVER BY SHREDDING HER WITH SOME BROKEN GLASS??????
Lex held the menacing vat of acid over Lana, the helpless pink backpack. The acid hissed and roared at her, growling its frustrated lust at its soon to be hapless victim.
"I'll just test out the corrosivity of this acid," Lex was saying aloud.
He slowly tipped the vat over, and Lana screamed!
But he could not hear her, for she was a backpack, and had no mouth, thus she could not speak.
The door slammed open!
"Lex!" Clark cried, a near scream.
"Huh?" said Lex, turning with a sexily cocked eyebrow, the vat just level enough to keep the acid from pouring upon Lana, yet tipped enough to threaten her with some cruel, malevolent droplets; they glared at her, baring their teeth, muttering, "Damn, we really wanna dissolve that backpack with our acidicness."
There was one lone dissenter among the droplets. His name was Atrayu.
"I must protest!" Atrayu cried, raising a fist heavenwards, his eyes alight with a glow of fresh harmonics. "Our true enemy wears a red tunic. It is alive, or was an hour ago, and if I find him
"Lex," Clark bounded over in two garrulous leaps, and grasped Lex in his manly arms, twirling his friend around happily. "Oh I have not seen you since yesterday! How are you, my friend?"
"Why Clark," Lex said, "I am well."
"Ooh a backpack!" Clark squealed. "I lost my backpack yesterday. Now I have a new one!"
Lex happily proffered the backpack to Clark, gazing longingly at its pink softness. "This backpack will serve you well. If I had but a backpack like this one yesterday, perhaps the day might have been different."
Clark slung the pink backpack over his shoulder, and Lana instantly felt protected by the warm snugness of Clark's curvy body
"Perhaps he knows it is me," Lana whispered to herself. "I thought we had a link, a connection these last few months. Perhaps he has not abandoned me after all. I love you, Clark!" she cried. But he did not hear her, for she was a backpack.
"Cool; anyway, catcha later, Lexy." Clark said with a little wave, and bounded out the door. When he was out of the sight of his sexy friend, he sped up to bolt through the cornfields, zooming quickly.
Fortunately for Clark, Lana did not notice how fast he was running, because they were 1) in the cornfields 2) Young and modern 3) She was a backpack and could not feel 4) ( and most importantly, she was thinking about her dead parents, and remembering the day they abandoned her by letting a meteor smoosh them.
Anyway, Clark ran up to his room, and flopped onto his bed, gazing happily at his new backpack. "Cool, I just saved $8.75," he said to himself aloud. "Now I will be rich one day. Just like I dreamed of when I was evil for a few months and robbing banks."
Clark caressed the backpack with his loving fingers, thinking of how soft, how pink it was. How strangely familiar.
He stood up to go to the bathroom, but hesitated, looking back at the backpack, wondering if he should explain to it why he was abandoning it.
But he decided otherwise, and shook off the impulse to do that, and to explain his secret to it.
"I will not tell this backpack that I am an alien. For it is a backpack, and need not know," Clark said aloud.
Lana shook her backpacky head. "That Clark, he's such a kidder."
She frowned then. "But he has abandoned me yet again."
Floorboards creaked outside the room. She looked hopefully towards the entrance, but her hopes were dashed, dashed brutally and swiftly, with great painful cascades of ferocity. Just like her parents had been dashed brutally and swiftly, with great painful cascades of ferocity beneath the unrelenting fury of the mumbling madness when the precocious meteor crushed them.
For in came Martha Kent.
She stopped short when she saw the backpack, staring in unabashed horror.
"I've seen that look before," Lana whispered. "It came from a Mullah, named Omar, when I was in Egypt. He stared in horror, just like Martha Kent, the mother of my love who's name is Clark. She must recognize me."
"Oh no," Martha whispered. "OH NO!!!! NOOOOOOOO!"
She picked up Lana with brutal swiftness, staring with fury at her. "I told Clark never again to buy pink backpacks with frilly flowers sewn into them! I TOLD HIM!!!! Blue or green, or some primary color, but not PINK."
She pulled a whiskey bottle out of her pocket and broke it brutally against the bed frame. "I will carve this backpack up with swift gashes from my whiskey bottle, I will shred it to pieces. I will show that pretentious little knave that he must never again slander me this way!"
"Nooooo! It's me!" Lana screamed. "Don't abandon me to the brutal fury of that glass you intend to shred me with!" The glass reached its tentacles out towards her, the little stingers of sharpness longing to shred her fabric-y flesh.
"I will shred this now," Martha muttered, enraged. She quickly brought the knife forward to cut Lana to pieces
TO BE CONTINUED?
Is MARTHA GONNA KILL LANA!! WILL SHE EVER REGAIN HER OLD SHIMMERING LOOKS AND FANTASTIC LOCKS OF RAVEN HAIR??? WILL SHE EVER AGAIN MAKE CHLOE JEALOUS, OR WILL MARTHA RUIN HER DREAMS, THE DREAMS OF THIS GORGEOUS, WONDERFUL, BEAUTIFUL, PRETTY WOMAN FOREVER BY SHREDDING HER WITH SOME BROKEN GLASS??????