Try These On For Thighs

Try These On For Thighs.

A nerd thigh strangling story by The Grappler

The Nerd floated serenely in his oval glass capsule filled with warm, nutrient filled fluid – attached to the outside world by a series of tubes and probes, and one single Internet connection plugged firmly to the back of his skull.  He was an odd creature – thin, wasted body, arms and legs, and a huge head!

Lovingly watching over him were The Professor and his Assistant, Brainard, who, as well as drawing mega-salaries on grant money for The Nerd – hoped that he would awaken to full life one day and use that enormous brain to solve all of the world's problems.

So – to keep him happy and content – they fed him daily through the tubes on a mix of pies, pizza, fried chicken, beer and sugar-filled soda pop – all homogenised into a single syrupy mix that flowed into his veins and kept him and that enormous brain functioning at top speed!  The two researchers had also attached waste disposal tubes to The Nerd – to take away all the unwanted rubbish from his body and brain and keep him healthy and hopefully allow him into full life some day – soon!

“Well, Brainard”, said the professor, “Looks like another day!  No movement or excessive brain activity from our Nerd yet?”.

“No, Professor”, replied Brainard, “Just the usual low-level activity – mostly on that Internet connection.  Guess we'd better pack it in for another day”.

Off went the lights, plunging The Nerd into darkness, except for the small night light that he could just make out through his single, fuzzy monocular seeing device – the one that the researchers had overlooked.

Deep within his mind, a thought grew, and grew!  He would show them all!  He would emerge, chrysalis-like, from his capsule, and conquer the world, using the enormous bubblebutt woman-strangling thighs that he dreamed of owning!  If only they knew!  Then he'd show them all!

He lapsed into sleep, dreaming of enormous thighs.......legs of lamb and chicken legs danced across his mind's eye.........

Next Morning....

“Morning, Brainard”  said The Professor jauntily the next day.  “Anything happening with The Nerd?”.

“No, Professor - not so much as a squeak on the monitors all night.  We'll just have to be patient, I think, and keep on with our work!”.

“Quite so, Brainard, quite so!  I'm expecting a call from President Ovama, so can you just hold the fort for a while?”

“Certainly, Professor – no trouble at all”, said Brainard as The Professor left the room.

The Nerd watched carefully as the tall thin old one left his sight, and the short one with glasses stayed, putting his feet up, and looking at all those dials and screens and so on.  What was he doing?  It all seemed to come from that funny plug in the wall, with that long grey cord coming out of it and into the back of the machines.

The Nerd slyly opened his Internet connection, and instantly googled 'wall socket grey lead machines', and within milli-seconds the answer came back – electrical power.

POWER, thought The Nerd, almost out loud, the thought screaming through his head, almost loud enough to wake Brainard at the monitors where he had fall into a light doze!  I could use THAT, thought The Nerd! I could use that to make my bubblebutt thighs and make them work!  POWER!  POWER!

Brainard stirred, so The Nerd shut down his Internet connection quickly – they outside must never know that he, undisputed king of this capsule, now knew about POWER!

In the machinations of the Universe, with all its intricate highways and byways – of course other people were also thinking about power, only a different kind of power.  Brainard slept on – The Nerd watched, and waited!

“Good Morning, Professor!  President Bleck Ovama here – just calling to discuss your work and a few things related to the current economic climate”.

“Why certainly, Mr President”, replied The Professor, “What would you like to know about our work?  We're at the stage of...”

“Hold it, hold it, Professor!  I've got some good news and some bad news – and there's no easy way to tell you, so I'm going to have to go straight ahead with what I have to say.  OK?”

“Well, yes, Mr President – you go right ahead”.

“Well – to sugarcoat this a little – we have decided that the best thing to do is to establish a new foundation and facility for Nerd research, and...to make it better... you're to be appointed the Head of the whole thing. You can choose your own staff as well.  Now – how's that?”

“Why...Mr President...I don't know what to say!  I'm...I'm overwhelmed!  Of course I'll want Brainard, and perhaps a new deputy assistant.  There are some very good (drools) young women graduating....”.

“Good!  Good!  I'm glad you're happy with that, and the extra staffing won't be a problem, because it makes the next part a little easier for me.  Your funding for The Nerd is being cut, and that means your power supply is also being cut – right about...NOW!  Sorry about that – call you later about the new facility!”

The Professor fell back from the now dead telephone in dismay, his life's work in ruins at his feet.

Back in his capsule...The Nerd sensed a growing coldness, darkness,  and a feeling of numbness creeping up his twisted, shrunken legs and body.  He started to thrash about, breaking his waste tubes, filling the capsule with a murky brown sludge that threatened to choke the life out of him.  He struggled and fitted, and then grew ominously silent and still..............

The Nerd floated, face down, arse up, still as death, inside his brown-filled capsule – he never knew that losing power meant you had to eat shit and live in it, too, (ratchets eyebrows) but there it was!  He was still, silent, and fading fast – nothing could save him – the monitors slowly wound down towards zero, one by one, as Brainard, now rudely woken from his guilty nap, struggled to keep them up with no power.  Where was that damned power?  What was happening?

The Professor tore through the door at a dead run, screaming to Brainard to unhook The Nerd and start pushing his gurney!

“Where?” said a frantic Brainard ...”What can we do without power?”

“The President cut it off! We must FIND power – anywhere, anyhow – and right now – so move, Brainard!  MOVE!”.

They ran, Nerd unhooked  from the power and life support systems and with wires and drips trailing and leaving a slime trail of Nerd juices – down the corridor, out into the street, frantically seeking an empty power socket that still had power.

“Quickly, Brainard”, shouted The Professor, “There's the hospital!  They MUST have power – go, boy – go!  Not even Ovama would cut off power to a hospital – I think! (scratches head while running – try it some time)”.

Passersby stopped and stared at the two lunatics running down the street in white coats and pushing a gurney carrying an oval glass capsule filled with a brown liquid and a murky form.  Some turned away in disgust from the mixed smell of mixed food, beer and soda as well as human faeces, some reached for mobile phones to call 911 (or 000 or 999 depending on where you are), but thought better of it when the two white-coated figures dashed inside the doors of the hospital.

Surely these were doctors who knew what they were doing!! (ha, ha!  See “Doctors or Dilutees – A Treatise on the Dumbing Down of the Medical Arts” -  Grappler Enterprises Inc, 2011).

Desperately Brainard and The Professor rushed from room to room at the Hospital, searching for a power plug thay could use to stem the tide of Nerd extinction.  Not that one - damn you, multi-culturism catering to Eastern European power! (Da - two million zlotys, can giff maybe one light globe!  Maybe next millenium.  Is OK?)

Down the corridors of antispeptic smell they hurtled, pushing wheelchair bound patients and miniscule nurses out of the way, screaming:- "Out of the way - out of the way!  This is an emergency of international dimension!  The future of inhumanity rests on this!  Out of the way!!".

"It's no good, Professor" said Brainard, "we're just not going to find a power outlet in time.  I....think The Nerd is gone!"

"Nein, dumbkopf, NEIN!  Ve vill not haf Zer Nerd given zer Final Solution - not on mein vatch!".

Ah - just what they needed!  An unmonitored bed space, and only occupied by an ailing mother of ten, who is also a grandmother and valued contributor to Mother Theresa, and who has rescued thousands of orphans through her good works in life, as well as founding a home for lost orphan whales.  

Now - there was somebody the world could do without!

Quick as a flash - Brainard pulled the plug on her life support, and jammed The Nerd's life support capsule inlet into the socket.  The mother of ten gasped, and struggled for her final breath, but somewhere, in all that shitty murkiness inside his capsule - a faint glimmer of light shown through.  The Nerd was alive - barely, but alive!  Now - if only they could correct his shitty outlook - by clearing the liquid of floating faecal fossils - and then get his entire system back online!

Slowly the fluid cleared, and The Nerd started to show signs of life again.  The coldness receded a little, and his vision started to clear - not just physically, but mentally as well - a great cloud of shit had been lifted from his brain!  Soon he was bouncing around like a new born baby again - happy and content in his wonderfully clear nutrient fluid.  Now all that remained was to re-attach the feed lines for the pizza, pies, chips, chicken, beer and red soft drink mix - then he would be back on deck - except, of course for his internet connection!

Meanwhile, the nurses sorrowfully covered the face of the mother of ten, and called the Coroner and the morgue attendant, a known necrophile who they retained due to his vast experience and willingness to work with dead people and because he kept the best ice cream in the freezer, and because he was on trustee day leave and was paid a cheap rate of pay from the Department of Corrections.  He (ahem) came highly qualified!

And so - down she went - and down he went - man - this guy is weird!!!  

The nurses never noticed that the white-coated Professor and Brainard were standing by with a life support capsule between them and using the mother of ten's life support system power plug - maybe they were just there for the experience or something (if you believe that - you'll believe anything!).

And so The Nerd was saved.  For now.

*     *     *

Back at the Black House, President Ovama was making good on his promise to create a brand-new Institute of Nerd Exploration and Realisation Trends (INERT), a highly suitable name for a government funded operation – and was busily creating all the input required to get it up and running at vast public expense.

Back at the hospital, Brainard and The Professor had staked out the now deceased mother of ten's room, on the pretext of quarantine, and were busily setting up all the supplies The Nerd would need to keep going, and were happily slipping the tubes back into his shrunken, deformed body (Igor – I have a role for you!).

The Professor's mobile phone rings:- "Hello, Professor Von Brauneye (yes – he does have a name!) - Bleck speaking – I've organised funding and new facility for your research.  When can you move in?".

"Professor Brauneye heaved a sigh of relief out the window and it fell to the street below, "As soon as you wish, Mein Fuhr.. Mr President!".

"Good...good!  And we have some likely prospects for some new staff – there's a very fine young lass – just finished an internship here at the Black House without a  single stain on her (snuckles, ratchets eyebrows) – a Miss Lavinia Lovelichops.  How does that sound?".

Professor Von Brauneye clears his throat, drooling a little, "Oh, er – just fine, Mein President (nearly got it right this time!).  Ve can move in tomorrow – if that's all right?".

"Tomorrow it is – goodbye, then, Professor.  Good luck with your Nerd".

"Danke, Mein President!"  (catches right arm just in time), "Chust a little tic there, Brainard – nothing to concern yourself!".

Next morning........

(Background music, Igor – Morning Has Broken, by Cat Stevens)....

Down at the new Institute of Nerd Exploration and Realisation Trends (INERT), Professor Von Brauneye is interviewing Lavinia Lovelichops, from his brand new deep leather professor's chair – a  genuine fake French Restoration model bought from Louis Cutauze, The Marseilles pimp!  (Oh, yes – it's a genuine Louis Cutauze – just rolls off the tongue, doesn't it?).

"Miss Lovelichops – I admire your (ahem) twin very pertinent qualifications, and am greatly impressed by your (hrrn) overall development – you would bring a great (cough) ASSet to INERT – when can you start?".

"But, Professor – I've only just arrived!".

"Never mind, Lovelichops – you came (harrumph) highly recommended by The President, who said you gave great.....service!  He admires your style and your discretion. You've got the job!"

"Why, thank you, Professor Von Brauneye – I'm so glad all that back-breaking night work at university and all those long nights at the Black House have finally paid off for me!", said Lovelichops, fluttering her eyelids over those lovely deep blues (sigh).

"Settled then – come and meet the Team!"

Lovelichops and Professor Von Brauneye do a tour of the works at INERT – The Professor preening a little at 'escorting' (ratchets eyebrows – in your dreams, Brauneye – in your dreams) such a sweet young thing – and she is introduced around to all, including, at long last, the long-suffering Brainard.

"Oh, hello, Brainard',  said Lovelichops in a gorgeous musical voice, "I've heard so much about you – how wonderful an assistant you are!".

Brainard, nearly swooning in his chair, riding shortgun (snuckles) on the monitors keeping track of The Nerd, can only mumble, "Oh..yes – I sort of....try to do my best!  Thank you so much for saying so!".

"Oh, no, Brainard", quoth Lovelichops, "the pleasure is all mine!".  She turned away, leaving Brainard alone again deep in the Outer Darkness, red-faced and stirred in his deepest soul by her beauty.

"The pleasure is all mine", raged through Brainard's brain – if only it could be – but he, at 5'3" (nearly suffocated in a crowded commuter carriage once when they all consumed cabbage rolls the night before at a Guinness-tasting party), balding, bespectacled, geeky with a limp 3" pencil dick and a hairy back and so on (stole that from a GS contributor), stood no chance.  Oh, well – there was always work – bury your head in it - and forget.  Perhaps they could share a coffee over caring for The Nerd's monitors - perhaps ...... perhaps.... some day...just a coffee (sobs internally).

"And this, my dear Lovelichops..is The Nerd", crowed The Professor. "This is what it's all about!".

"Oooh, but he's so tiny, and scrawny!  Couldn't you just love him to death, Professor!  Now I know I've come to the right place.  Thank you so much for asking me.  I feel I belong already". (crowd vomits here...adore The Nerd?)

"(ahem, blush) The pleasure is all mine, Lovelichops!" (or will be, heh, heh -  plots darkly a dinner and seduction, perhaps an abduction a la Baron Greasier (that's pronounced Gree-zeer around here)  – but that's another story.....snaps out of it)

Deep within his capsule, The Nerd peered through his monocular device.  What is this different shaped being who is coming near and looking at him through the glass?  Why does it have all those lumpy bits and soft curves and that ...different voice?

Quickly he tied in his Internet connection and googled the word he'd heard Brainard use when he sighed at times outside the capsule when he thought nobody could hear – 'Woman'!

*     *     *

Ummm – woman, woman, woman, thought the Nerd – sounds good – maybe I could do stuff there with those thighs and stuff.  Hmmm...maybe show them all my true strength (and independence) by demonstrating conclusively that my thighs are the greatest – if I ever get them!  Now...how.....?

Lovelichops, on her first day at the console, watched every little movement of the monitors on The Nerd – while The Nerd watched every little movement of Lovelichops while hiding from her every little movement of the monitors!  (This could get complicated!).

Lovelichops was not one to be bemused by such petty antics from a Nerd, however – despite that totally alluring exerior – inside beat the heart of solid gold – as cold a  computer in an iceberg – this woman missed nothing, not the rattle of a single gold piece in a pocket way across the room! (la, la, la music, Igor)  She had those (smarmy) special attributes of women (ah, harnk, harnk, hark!) – she, unlike all the men here (vomit) had 'empathy' and could 'relate', and had (glurk) 'intuition'!

She could 'feel' The Nerd as none other could (bullshit, bullshit from Top Gun!!).  And she was 'feeling' things about The Nerd – that he was truly alive in there, had ambitions, and so on, and many other normal human things going on!  (No – Igor – not what you think!).  And she was 'feeling' something right now!  (No – Igor – not what you think!).

"Professor", called Lovelichops, bringing The Pussy-addled Professor at a run, "I think The Nerd is trying to say something.  I ..get the feeling he wants something...he...sort of indicates his legs.  Maybe he's hungry and wants a leg of mutton or something?".

"No, Lovelichops, that simply cannot be.  The monitors show nothing!  Brainard – has anything happened with Our Nerd"

"Haven't seen anything, Professor – but then, I've been a bit busy here behind Lovelichops there, just keeping an eye on things, of course!"

"Vell , we must all keep a closer eye on this – there could be something!  At last! Well, it's after closing time – perhaps we should adjourn until tomorrow.  Does ...er...anyone care to join me for a wee drinkie?" (he said meaningfully at Lovelichops, who replied demurely);

"Oh, no, Professor – I would, but I have a follow-up interview with The President tonight.  Perhaps another time!  Brainard will join you in my place – won't you, Brainie, dear?"

A totally rubbery Brainard can only nod, and nod, and nod....'in my place'.........uuummm....

The lights go down again and The Nerd is plunged into darkness (except for that tiny night light there – don't forget).  Left alone with his thoughts, he planned his move.   First obtain thunderthighs – second, use them to best advantage!   Now – who to use them on to show the world his power?  Ah-ha – Lovelichops – just the one!  Everybody would take notice of her disappearing within the folds of his bubblebutt thighs!

Just thinking about it caused a stirring in The Nerd's groin area, and a reflexive almost twitching of his wasted thigh muscles, followed by... a searing pain!  Ah – what was this?   

Oh, the pain – a broken thigh bone or a dislocated hip – the sort of thing that can happen in a totally wasted body when the muscles involuntarily twitch!  And the whole night ahead, with nothing but pain, and thinking only of Lovelichops...Lovelichops – surely she would come back to save him!

*     *     *

Morning!  Another work day! The Nerd bubbled a sigh of relief through his lifeline oxygen tube – Miss Lovelichops would be back soon, and surely would notice his injured thigh or hip or whatever, and then would take him and tenderly hold and cuddle him and heal it for him.

Oh – the bliss of just thinking about it almost healed that injury all on its own.  Lovelichops, Lovelichops!  This just HAD to be Nerd Love!  Ah – to be treated like both child and lover at the same time, maybe even valued for his world-shaking ambition to own bubblebutt thighs – true bliss!

“Professor”, said Lovelichops, “I think The Nerd is trying to say something to us – he's sort of – pointing to his leg – I think!  This might be the start of communication here – what do you think?”.

“Grosse Gott!” said the Professor, lapsing for a moment into his native German.......

Lovelichops again:- “I think he's injured himself somehow – his leg there – he's sort of indicating it, like he wants me to massage it or something”

"Grosse Gott!" - burst out The Professor in his native German, forgetting himself for a moment, "I think you've spotted something, Lovelichops!  The Nerd IS moving! It's alive! And injured!  We must do something quickly!".

Lovelichops smiled - she just loved so being treated as a functioning human being - and said sweetly:- "Oh - I feel I have such an affinity with The Nerd, Professor - he just seems the sweetest thing!  And please don't call him "IT', professor - he seems so lovely, just floating away there in his nutrient tank!  I just know he's having trouble with that leg!" (they really talk like that, you know!)".

"Hmm" said the Professor, "perhaps there is hope!  Perhaps we can....do something to bring him into the real world and fix those legs once and for all!  Let me think on zis (oops -Cherman again) for a while!  Brainard - we have work to do!"

Deep in the outer office, while Lovelichops kept watch on The Nerd in his new found gyrations inside his capsule, The Professor and Brainard worked out what they could do. How to bring this Nerd into the real world and see if he could function as a human being himself!  Zen they could study that mind in great detail!

“Ja, ja”  (damn – once that guy slips, he really slips!) “Ve could perhaps do something about the body!    A head transplant would perhaps work – but we would need some expert assistance”.

“Perhaps we could obtain a female Nerd, and do some embryo research work, sort of stem cell stuff – perhaps we could create some good legs for Our Nerd, Professor?”

*     *     *

Meanwhile back at the monitor ranch, Lavinia Lovelichops and The Nerd were engaged in the sort of conversation that normally takes place been a nerd and a beautiful, intelligent young woman gifted with all the best parts of femininity in droves (don't lay it on too thick, there, Igor!  Go off into the corner and look at this photograph of Lovelichops) - Lovelichops asked some serious questions becoming of a Nerd, and was receiving, in reply, monosyllabic grunts.

She could have done better talking to a jock, but, hey – this isn't about jocks with wasted thighs!

Nonetheless, Lovelichops, being the bright young woman she is, began to discern a pattern in the communications from The Nerd – sort of a SETI (Search for Extraterrestrial Intelligence) thing – only a SENI (Search for Extra Nerd Intelligence) thing, and she began to get the picture – he wanted to hold her tightly!  Well, that was a start!  Maybe they were establishing some human contact!  He wanted her to baby him!  (Aaawr!).

Down in the lab near the slab where they blab about Nerds, at that moment, the phone rang, and Lovelichops was on the line.

“Professor”.........

“I think we're getting some real communication from The Nerd here!”.

The Professor came at a run – again, arriving out of breath, and drawing a deep breath at the sight of Lovelichops just sitting there, legs crossed in that beautiful fashion, lovely long hair flowing down over milky shoulders and gorgeous flawless skin all the way down to that magnificent front end and the delicious curve of waist and hip all tied to that gorgeous brain.........(snap out of it, man!  The Nerd...The Nerd!!)!

“What, my dear Lovelichops – could The Nerd be saying to you that he hasn't said to Brainard or myself in the past...oh...four months or so?”

“He's saying that he wants to hold me tightly in some way, and that it also has something to do with his scrawny legs – he needs new ones!”

“We ARE working on that – right now – In fact, we may have a solution!  We're going to purchase a  Nerdess, and work on cloning or breeding a NEW Nerd, from which we can adapt the legs – you see!  If we breed him, we will first have to find his ..er.. you know, and extract the seed...this could be a problem – he's smaller than Brainard down there (Brainard glowers!!).

“Oh Professor”, from Lovelichops, “I always thought that size didn't matter that much!”  (Smiles at Brainard - Brainard immediately gets a hormone rush that extends his equipment a further two inches – if this keeps up, he'll be as long as a freight train!  Five inches now permanently! Whoo hoo!)

Professor:-  “IT COULD WORK!  We will be enlisting the aid of Herr Dokteur Professor Viktor Frankenstein III, who is an expert in such things – he created Swedish feminism from scratch, so he has had a few hiccups, but ... practice makes perfect, you know!.  Our fallback plan is to simply transplant – a new process, but Dr Frankenstein will also be a great help there!”.

*     *     *

The Professor and his Assistant, Brainard, take delivery of a new box.  They open it carefully, and lovingly, gently remove the wrapping and bubble wrap, until they arrive at the heart of the whole thing.  They hold back for a moment, eyes making contact - this is a great moment - and then turn willingly to their new project.

“Ah, Brainard – such a pity our good friend Viktor could not be here for this crowning moment!  But he will be here soon enough.  Let's get to it then, shall we!  You do the honours”.

Off comes the final wrapping!

And there she is!  The Female Nerd - The Nerdess - all cosy in her very own nutrient solution, and with all the wires and nutrient feeds in place!  Or are they?

"Oh, Mein Grosse Gott!"   cried The Professor!  "Quickly, Brainard - we may still be in time!"

Frantically they grapple (ratchets eyebrows) with the fittings, trying desperately to reinsert the feeding probe that has come loose on the long aircraft journey from Nerdistan (a province of the old USSR where Nerds can be bought cheap on the black market – a million roubles or I borrow your sister for the night – now that's cheap!).  On and on they struggle manfully (damn you, cheap Eastern European fittings!  Da, da – not touch valve on space station/submarine – very tricky!), sweat pouring from them, hysteria lurking just one wrong call beneath the surface - they MUST keep The Nerdess alive!

Finally, in exhaustion and despair, they fall back.  

"It's no good, Professor!  We've lost her!  And no grant money to buy another!  Damn! Damn! Damn!". (You mean they can't afford one night's loaning out of a sister here – what sort of funding is this?  Ah – lean government – lean, mean, and hungry to eat off of its citizens!).

The Professor shrugs philosophically.

"Oh well, Brainard - we tried our best.  I recall, in zer oldt days, ve lost zo many chust like zis to zer gas chambers - but that vas a different story!  Zo - ve are schtuck mit our very own Nerd - all on his own!.

Now...it is up to him alone!".

Back at the lab, Lovelichops works hard to maintain contact of some sort with The Nerd in his capsule.  His Internet connection is still operational, but nobody seems to notice here, and besides, every time he attempts communication – they think he's a troll!

(back to the telephone call, men!)  “Professor – I'm pretty sure I'm getting something from The Nerd!  It's almost like he....he....”.

“Ein Moment, Lovelichops – while Brainard and I compose ourselves.  It has been a ..difficult time for a few minutes here!  Now – we're all back on top here – what were you saying?”.

“Well, Professor – I keep getting the impression The Nerd wants something from me! It seems to be all about....something to do with leg of lamb or...something!  Maybe he's hungry?  He wants out of this dependency capsule and to stand on his own two feet!”.

“Hmmm – well – my first reaction is to just dismiss what you say, Lovelichops, since The Nerd has made no truly successful human contact yet.....but – on reflection – perhaps Brainard and I should come up right away!”.

(aside) “Brainard – just leave a note for the janitor to toss The Nerdess on the rubbish for collection.  Nobody will notice amongst all the embryos they throw out these days next door at the IFF clinic and the foetuses from the abortion clinic, and they all look the same  – then hurry up to the lab”.

*     *     *

Professor Von Brauneye, Brainard and Lavinia Lovelichops hold a post mortem over a few well-earned drinks – damn – the bodies are just piling up in this story – and Viktor the body expert hasn't even arrived yet!

“So – where do we go from here, Brainard?  Dr Frankenstein is on his way, and we have no Nerdess to match DNA from The Nerd to create a viable clone or make some stem cell material.  What can we do now?  Ah – in zer days of zer gas chambers, we had all ze material we needed for experiments!  You could get a Nerdess chust like that (snaps fingers)!”.

'Well, Professor, I've been doing some night research, with Lovelichops here (The Professor offers a bone-melting glare here, one that would reduce the Sun to a golden shower), and we truly feel the best way to proceed is to remove The Nerd's head from his body, and transplant him onto a suitable donor.  Dr Frankenstein should agree once he......ah – here he is!”

(Enter Viktor Frankenstein III, great grand-son of the original Viktor Frankenstein and creator of the still living (sort of) Swedish feminism monster which is currently threatening to devour the world).

“Doctor!”

“Professor!”  (heel clicks all round – these Chermans, you know!)

“My team – my new assistant Miss Lavinia Lovelichops, and Brainard, my long-time Untermensch – er, Assistant”.

 (Hand shakes all round - not that kind of hand shakes, Igor – you get those when you drink too much!  Band plays “I Only Have Eyes For You!)

“Well...good evening, Miss Lovelichops”,  says Viktor, kissing Lovelichops' hand and drawing hot hostile gazes from Brainard and The Professor both (Man – that is some woman!  Use your imagination!  Igor – get Mike on the line – what's Catherine ZJ up to – is she free for a while for a small film?).

“Ahem”, The Professor, “Viktor – sorry to interrupt your business with business - as you should know, we have a serious Nerd problem.  Our Nerdess didn't make it, and we are now looking at transplanting The Nerd's head onto a suitable donor.  We, of course, have no donor at this stage.  What can you suggest?”

“Ach – sad about losing The Nerdess, but did you think I would arrive without a solution or two?  I – Viktor Frankenstein III, just in from Grappler Estate in Menarovia, where the good Colonel has some very good whiskey, might I add!  To business, then!  On the news tonight was a report that the ex-Calernor of Govifornia, Schwarzold Arnesnegger, has died suddenly – you said in your telegram that your Nerd required massive thighs – and there is your answer! We should have no trouble with the brain, since the Calernor had none to speak of – he was brain dead for a very long time before they found out, but the body is still fresh and preserved in alcohol, schnapps I believe, maybe a little whiskey thrown in!!.”

“Great – but how do we get the body here for the operation?”.

Viktor looks down at his perfectly clean fingernails, then looks up, smiling,

“I took the liberty of putting him on a special chartered flight from Govifornia.  Nobody really noticed that he was even gone!  And the family are happy to simply divide up his fortune, so they are no trouble since they are as good at gravedigging as my great-grandfather was (little family joke there) – just happy to be rid of the problem of burying him.  They will make do with an empty coffin, which will make it easy on the pall bearers!  Problem solved!  They will hold a state funeral on an empty box!  Bagpipes and all...I never could stand bagpipes myself”.

(Brainard, who is of Scottish descent, harbours deep and abiding doubts about Viktor, as he would about anyone who doesn't like bagpipes!  Files that away for future reference!  Aye- but yer Heelander unnerstans yon feudin' 'n holdin' a grudge, an' if ye naw like The Pipes, yer Sassenach to' the bone!!)

“Ah, Viktor – you ARE a genius!  I seem to remember that the Calenor had a nickname – what was it, now?  Come on Brainard – you're the wizard with trivia!”

“It was The Govifornicator, Professor – he promised during the election campaign to fornicate everything about Govifornia, and he did a great job of doing just that.  A man of his word!”.

Viktor:- “Yes- yes, that's it!  So now we have The Govifornicator matched to The Nerd – so this is....what.... a Nerdifornicator?  Not just a Fucking Nerd (ha, ha).”

The Professor:- “Ummm – about right.  Lovelichops – would you order us all another drink?”.

*     *     *

The Nerd floated, watching and waiting, in his glass capsule – he knew he had gotten his message across to Lovelichops, and he knew that somehow that shape and voice and whatever it is of hers had an overwhelming effect on both Brainard and The Professor and forced them to do his bidding through her. They seemed to be like cats on catnip! It also affected him, The Nerd – but in a different way.  He just couldn't wait to wrap his new bubblebutt thighs around her.........once he got them, of course......

*     *     *

The three lads, Viktor, The Professor and Brainard (these are real people by the way) and the lone lingeringly lovely lady Lavinia Lovelichops (she's real, too!) arrive at the lab, all gowned and ready for The Operation.

The Nerd is intrigued!  What can be going on?  Why are they all wearing those white gowns and masks and stuff?  He can still recognise them, but....quickly he establishes contact through his Internet connection, googles 'white gowns masks reason' and gets back 'Operation'!  What can that mean?  And what is that great lumpy shape underneath that white sheet that they are pushing in now?

He watches through his distorted monocular device while Viktor and Brainard remove the sheet with a flourish, revealing the dead still body of the Govifornicator and start probing and pushing various bits of it.

“Hmm”, say Viktor, “I can't see how he was going to fornicate all of Govifornia with that!  But I suppose it's all in the way you use it, eh?”.  (Brainard smiles behind his back).  “Well, it all seems viable – now – all we have to do is apply some brains here, and we could have a fully functioning human being instead of a robot!  Bring on The Nerd”.

The Nerd hears his name – what are they talking about?  Then Lovelichops inserts a hypodermic through the wall of the capsule and into his bony ass, and he feels a trickle of warm fluid going into his three drop bloodstream (those three drops just kept going round and round, just enough to keep him alive!  (Stole that one from my hypochondriac grandmother, who had 'one drop of blood when she was anaemic, and it was all that kept her alive” - we do have some beauties in this family!  Read “In the Company of Strangers”, my second book about my very own family and upbringing).

He drifts off into a dreamless sleep, and only just feels the beginnings of his probes and tubes being removed, and the steady draining of his life-giving fluid..........  what....is....happp..en....in..g...........

“Ah, perfect!  Now – the scalpels, saws, and wrecking bar!  This is a job that requires finesse!  Oh, and make sure you have the two pound hammer ready in case we need a fine adjustment!  We never like to force these things, just use a bigger instrument!”, said Viktor, reveling in his role of creator once more, “We will begin with the head of the Govifornicator,  Lovelichops will monitor and prime The Nerd for the transplant – Brainard – stand by with the electrodes and the switches!”.

The Professor and Viktor set to work removing the head of the Govifornicator  quickly – a few cuts, couple of taps, and then the wrecking bar for a quick removal, leaving only the tip of the spine and the spinal chord carefully wrapped in cling wrap – ready for attachment to The Nerd – who is really only a big brain in any case.  Dead fucking easy!

Quickly they insert the obligatory two metal poles for the electrodes, then move on to The Nerd.  Same deal, a little nip and tuck, couple of taps with the two pound hammer, rip with the bar, and hey, presto – micro-surgery!

The Nerd's head stood for a solitary moment, balanced in the hands of The Professor!  This is the defining moment of his life – better even than working the left/right lines at the gas chambers so long ago!  Ah – the Nerds we let get by us then!  But we were young and foolish!

Now for the tricky bit!  Putting the head of The Nerd on the massive body of the Govifornicator, and then restarting the whole thing! Quickly they move, using needles and thread, laser stitching, keyhole surgery (no, Igor, you're thinking of hemorrhoids – I said 'KEYhole), rapidly fixing the enormous head of The Nerd to the equally enormous body of The Govifornicator – the work is quick, precise, and disciplined, and takes all of about fifteen minutes (no cutting corners here!).

They step back, take a breath in unison it seems, connect up the electrodes, then:-

“Brainard – hit the switches!”.

Massive current surges through the electrodes, past the .....anyway..you know how this bit works.

At first a flutter from The Nerdifornicator – then nothing.

“Hurry, Brainard – recharge and hit it again!  Throw the second switch!!” (Oh, no – that's blatant theft of script there!).

Another flutter from The Nerdifornicator – again he subsides into a death-like pose – they try again.  OK, OK – no third switch! No response!  Have they killed off their Nerd by trying to give him a life? It's happened before, you know! Try to get a life for a nerd and hey, presto, he fades away!

“Quickly, Lovelichops – give me that syringe of straight Espresso coffee – that might work!  If not, then the one with the Irish Coffee in it – that must work!  If not we fall back on that rocket fuel they call vodka!”.

They inject the coffee directly into The Nerdifornicator's bloodstream (freshly topped up a few minutes earlier  - forgot to add that in) ....Nothing!

In goes the Irish Coffee!....Nothing!

“Well”, said The Professor, “we are down to our last resort – that Russian rubbish they brew from potatoes!  Give it all you've got, Lovelichops – umm – not like that!  The VODKA – to The Nerdifornicator, not your lips!”.

Plunge – the syringe of straight Stoly goes directly into The Nerdifornicator's heart muscle!

NOTHING!  They stand, heads down for a moment, then turn away in deep sorrow – all for nothing!  All that vodka wasted not to mention the Irish Coffee and the espresso!

Behind them, The Nerdifornicator's eyes open – he looks at the world through a different lens – no more a single monocular device – this is proper stereo!  Damn – all I can see is the ceiling!  But he can feel...POWER in his legs ...POWER that he never dreamed of!  POWER that affects his brain, making it many times stronger than ever!  With those legs, that brain – he WILL conquer the world!

He rises from the slab.  And sits upright, dazzled by the whole experience – this is the first time he's been outside his safe capsule – what will he eat?  How will he communicate?  All these thoughts trigger responses in his new body – he thinks food, his stomach grumbles – he thinks communication, and his jaw starts working up and down like a landed fish.

Hold on – that's HIS jaw – not the Govifornicator's!  How can it be different?

Quickly Brainard and The Professor plug his Internet connection back into the socket at the back of his skull, then grab a laptop and start punching keys frantically!  Viktor and Lovelichops stand back, Viktor rubbing his hands together in glee, Lovelichops admiring her Nerd in his new body,  The Nerdifornicator eying Lovelichops with an eye to thigh freedom!  Ah – to lovingly wrap those thighs around her lovely neck.......or perhaps have her thighs around his neck – now that has possibilities for the ordinary man, or even Brainard!  But not The Nerdifornicator, he has other plans!

Then The Nerdifornicator  slowly subsided back onto the slab – the sleeping stuff they've mixed in with his meds is kicking in!

“Ah” said Viktor, “We have succeeded – now – we just allow The Nerdifornicator  to gently come into the world over the next few days – and all is finished!  I will now be returning to the Colonel's cellar – I have not yet checked out all of his whiskey!”

*     *     *

(Three days later – Viktor has flown the coop and is incommunicado in Colonel Grappler's cellar once more, and Professor Von Brauneye, Brainard, and Lavinia Lovelichops are attending The Nerdifornicator as he wakes for his new start in life)......

“Ah, here he comes!” said The Professor, “Now we will see what he can do with that brain AND that body!”.

The Nerdifornicator only had one thing on his mind – Lovelichops and the infinite pleasure of creting her last breath with his new thunder-thighs, and so he was biding his time.   Let them think he was just sort of a helpless little pip squeak – he'd show them soon – as soon as he got upright and set about his mission!  Lovelichops' demise would make a great example to them all of exactly who The Great Leader was around here!  All bow to The Great Nerdifornicator!

Thunderously he rose from the slab, shaking off the chains like cotton wisps, and reaching out his new legs to the floor!

“Look – he rises – my creation rises”, cried The Professor!

The Nerdifornicator fixed him with a baleful eye and began to steadily and inexorably advance towards The Professor, to shove him out of the way to Lovelichops.  The Professor began to sense something wrong – something terribly wrong, so he tried reason.

“My Creation – my Super-Nerd -  we have helped you to become great – now – will you help us to resolve all of the world's problems with that enormous brain and that lovely big strong body you now possess?”

The Nerdifornicator grumbled from deep inside: “I Am Your Leader! I Show No Mercy!”

Professor Von Brauneye was becoming frightened now – this was too much – and this new Nerdifornicator was too big to stop!  He held up his hands, imploring: “Stop – we have such great work to do together! STOP!  Do not betray us – ve are both Deutschesvolk – we can rule the world together”.

The Nerdifornicator responded by contemptuously smiting The Professor out of the way – he fell into a still and lifeless heap against the monitor cabinet, expiring with a sigh:- “But I vas neffer a Nazi!!”.  The Nerdifornicator advanced on Lovelichops – only Brainard in the way now!  Soon the thigh strangling would begin!

Brainard cast about for something to do – the exits were blocked – there was no way he could handle this new giant alone – what could he do?  Then it came to him!

“Schwarzold!  Do you remember Schwarzold?  The Calernor of Govifornia”.

The Nerdifornicator hesitated, confused for a moment – yes and no vied for control of his mind.

“Yes, yes!  Schwarzold, for all his failings, was a GOOD man, a kind man – you remember?  He would never harm another person on purpose – is there a chance he might now say, “I'll be back”?”.

Confusion grew in the eyes of The Nerdifornicator – what was he to do – he was torn between two things – Supreme Thigh Strangler of The Known World, and the kind and gentle Govifornicator.  The two tore at his consciousness, and then... the body of the Govifornicator started to rebel agaisnt the Nerd's mind commands!   The struggle became might, and The Nerd did everything in his power to MAKE that body do as he commanded – thigh strangle...thigh strangle..thigh strangle!

The body refused – The Nerd tried harder, but he had never had any experience of controlling a strong and able body – and it got away from him!  The body went its own way – he was like a jockey on a runaway horse, as the body reached up with both mighty hands, and , in a final act of total rejection, tore The Nerd's head from atop its shoulders, then slumped down, lifeless, with that head and its mighty brain stuck between its thighs.

Poetic justice, as the life slowly ebbed from the eyes of The Nerd forever.  He should have quit while he was a head!

Lovelichops took Brainard's face in her hands, and looking at him through her streaming, tear-filled eyes, she said :- “YOU are my hero – my true man!”.

At this, the hair fell from Brainard's back, he grew five inches in height, and his new-ish five inch schlong grew to full capacity of nine inches – all on the strength of the devotion of Lovelichops, the most gorgeous in the world!  They kissed, and the heavens sang with glory! Inevitably, they fell to it like besotted stoats – just the thing to relieve the tension and terror.

A quiet funeral, only attended by Brainard, Lovelichops (now sporting a massive engagement ring) and President Ovama, was held for Professor Von Brauneye.

The Nerdifornicator was cast on the rubbish heap, and was turned into cat food through recycling.

 And so Brainard and Lovelichops set about the ancient way of creating their own little monsters, having a beautiful wedding in a majestic cathedral, a fantastic honeymoon in all the best places in the world, shagged relentlessly, and set out to be live happily ever after – and a year later – the usual happened., bringing the greatest joy to their lives and making them both complete.

They divorced.

*     *     *     *