Frieda the Cat

To everyone's amazement, Jack looked fresh as a daisy and even somewhat sober. His hair was freshly combed, he had a smile on his face, and there was a spring in his step. In high spirits he said, "Hey, guys, let's go get some more beer. I seem to have worked up one helluva thirst. Don't think I'm gonna be chokin' the old chicken tonight! Yeeeeeeeeeee Haaaaaaaaaaaw!"

Jack gave the surprised madam a big hug and a smooch on the cheek, then followed his friends out the door. As he left, a nonplussed Rosemary Palm noticed several long streaks of blood on the back of Jack's shirt, that he had his shoes on the wrong feet, and that he was wearing only one white sock.

When Rosie went to check on her staff member, she found Long Liz lying in a fetal position underneath a bare mattress that was partially on but mainly off the bed. During the fracas, the sheets had been flung, torn and damp, to various corners of the room, and stuffing was leaking from several tears in the mattress. Liz was naked except for a torn bra that was up in her armpits and around her neck and one Wilson gym sock.

When Rosie bent over Liz, she heard soft whimpers, moans, and a whispered, "Sweeeeeet Jeeeeeesuus ..... Sweeeeeeeet Jeeeeesus," repeated over and over again.

It was obvious that the young woman was hors de combat. Ever mindful of her clients' convenience and satisfaction, Ms Palm went out to assign the customers waiting for Liz to other members of her household at a discount rate. She then managed to lay the nearly comatose whore out on the floor.

Rosie repaired the rips in the mattress with duct tape and made up the bed with almost clean sheets and a blanket.

With the help of a brawny prostitute named Phoebe Ann "Moose" Arbuckle, Rosie got the torn bra off Liz, put her in bed and left the single sock on her foot, wondering where the mate was.

Deciding that her patient needed a restorative, Ms Palm sent Moose Arbuckle to prepare Liz's favorite cocktail, vodka in a glass. After she dantily downed the eight ounce libation in three gulps, Ms Maddux regained unconsciousness and remained in that state for thirteen hours.

On the way back to the car with his friends, Jack insisted that he had to urinate. No, he couldn't wait until they got back to campus, he was about to bust and had to go right then.

In a convenient vacant lot, the no longer celibate Jack relieved himself mightily while leaning against a cyclone fence. To the amazement of his companions, he somehow managed to lose consciousness while standing there, and they were unable to revive him. His stream continued unabated, he didn't fall down, but he was out cold.

Having lost a coin toss, one friend managed to stuff Jack's penis back into his pants, getting his ankle slightly damp in the process. Then the four carried their unconscious fraternity brother to the car.

Still unable to arouse Jack when they got back to campus, they decided to leave him stretched out on the back seat of the Chevy. One friend was thoughtful enough to bring out a blanket and cover the comatose ex-virgin.

Jack was rudely and painfully awakened at dawn when a student fired up his unmuffled Harley Davidson in the next parking space. After a few minutes, Jack realized approximately where he was and staggered into the fraternity house. Trailing his blanket behind, he looked much like a sleepy two year old on his way to beddy bye. Feeling like he had been run through an ore crusher, Jack managed to make it up the stairs. His legs finally gave out in the hallway and he had to crawl, but he somehow got to his room.

With the help of his rudely awakened roommate, Jack regained his feet and attempted to throw himself onto his bed. He missed, though, and hit the floor, thereby aggravating several already painful injuries. Once his long suffering roommate helped him to bed, Jack slept, fully clothed, for twenty four hours with only a half hour break for a peanut butter and jelly sandwich washed down with three cans of room temperature Bullseye beer left over from the previous night's festivities.

When he awakened early Monday morning, Jack knew it would be futile to attempt to attend classes. Not only was he hardly able to sit up, he had ... soiled himself at some point during the night and knew without a doubt that it was about to happen again. Soon. Very soon.

Jack was experiencing the first rumblings of the dreaded Bullseye Thin Dirties, a malady well known to any undergraduate who had ever partaken excessively of that particular brand of beer.

Jack wished to avoid further fouling of his trousers, but the mere thought of going down the hall to the bathroom made him lightheaded. He did, however, stagger to the lavatory sink in the room. He then was able to drop his hopelessly stained jeans and boxers to his ankles and hoist himself to a seated position astraddle the cold porcelain.

The ensuing sound and fury awakened Jack's innocent roommate from a sound sleep. The roommate, a fastidious English major, quickly saw, heard, and smelled the situation for what it was. He immediately decided that he was overdue for a long visit to his grandma in Salinas and was out the door within two minutes.

Jack regained bowel control long enough to kick off his ruined clothes. He avoided having to deal with them further by simply tossing them out the window to the parking lot two stories below. He used his roommate's bedsheets to clean himself up, and that soiled linen followed the stained clothing onto the hood of a professor's Dodge sedan parked behind the fraternity house.

This exertion was too much for Jack in his weakened condition, and he wilted naked onto the cold linoleum floor and went to sleep until lower intestinal rumblings and urgency forced him awake once again.

This time he made it down the hall to the bathroom, and he spent the better part of an hour noisily spewing liquid and gas from his tormented backside. Several members of the fraternity entered the bathroom during his distress and immediately decided to either hold it or use the facility downstairs. They conveniently forgot their solemn pledges to come to the aid of fraternity brothers in times of trouble.

During a temporary respite from his beleagured bowels, Jack returned to his room and got dressed. Not wanting to risk further damage to his own underwear, he borrowed his roommate's. Jack found that he was missing one of the gym sox he had worn the night before, so he pulled one of his roommate's wooly red and green Christmas stockings onto his bare foot.

Young men who are away from home for the first time are ill prepared to cope with emergencies, but Jack knew he needed help. He was sore all over, inside and out, he was suffering from a terminal hangover, and he was incontinent. There was no Mom around to kiss it and make it better, so Jack decided to seek medical attention.

Fortunately the college infirmary was just down the street, so Jack was able to lurch and reel his way to that haven of mercy and healing. The door was opened by one of the nurses, and the debilitated student fell into her arms, unconscious.

The nurse immediately realized that she had a very sick boy on her hands, and with the help of two assistants got Jack inside and onto an examination table. Jack had no sooner been laid down than he woke up in the grip of a severe upheaval in his guts. He astonished the nurses by leaping off the table like Lazarus resurrected from the the grave and reaching the bathroom in a single bound.

The nurses, hearing the thunderous results of the wrenching in Jack's innards, made an immediate diagnosis based on extensive experience with similar cases. They nodded knowingly to each other. All three spoke at the same time, one of them saying, "Bullseye," another, "Thin Dirties," and the third, "If this is another bedpan case, I quit!"

The physician on call gave Jack a thorough examination and diagnosed a severely abraded albeit very large penis, bruised testicles, lacerations to both knees and one elbow, a bite on one shoulder, a golfball sized hickey on his neck, multiple rows of deep scratches on his back, a colossal hangover, and a nasty case of enteritis secondary to ingestion of an improperly aged malt beverage.

Bertha Hines RN, the buck-toothed old battleaxe who presided over the infirmary, ordered that the injured student be confined to bed for several days. Ms Hines had an overbite so severe that her fourth husband once ventured the opinion that she could eat corn off the cob through a picket fence.

Although certainly no candidate for a beauty prize, Bertha was, nonetheless, the darling of the college administration. During her tenure as manager of the infirmary, the budget for student healthcare had been dramatically reduced. She had accomplished this by cutting student visits to the infirmary by a remarkable seventy percent, thereby eliminating several staff positions and their attendant salaries.

She had done this in an amazingly simple manner: When a student came to the infirmary with a health problem, any health problem, the first thing Bertha did was to take that student's temperature. Rectally. No exceptions, no excuses. If a student wanted so much as a hangnail looked at, they first had to grab their ankles and have a cold, unlubricated glass thermometer shoved indelicately up his or her young sphincter ani. Word of this policy quickly spread throughout the student population, and only those virtually at death's door were ever desperate enough to seek help at the college infirmary.

Bertha made an exception in Jack's case, however, because none of the staff would volunteer to insert the thermometer, and Jack was certainly in no condition to do it himself. Considering the volatile state of Jack's bowels, they couldn't be blamed for their reluctance to look down the ...... muzzle of a loaded weapon with a hair trigger.

When questioned about the origin of his injuries, the somewhat embarrassed Jack would only say that he had fallen down the stairs. To this Nurse Bertha replied, "Yeah, sure, and ya got yer dick caught in a brushcutter on the way down. Ya oughter keep better care of a tool like that, sonny. I'm thinking it's prob'ly a real prizewinner under all them bandages the doc put on it. My nurses are cutting cards right now to see who gets to change the dressings. Nice sox you got on, but I wouldn't exactly call them a pair."

After several days of bed rest, antibiotics, and Kaopectate, Jack was restored to robust good health, and he was able to resume his studies. It took almost two weeks, though, for his monkey to recover to the point to where it was naughty enough to require spanking.

On returning from his visit with his granny, Jack's roommate resigned from the fraternity, moved to an off-campus apartment, and planned on enrolling at a Methodist seminary the following semester. He said that his experience as Jack's roommate had made him realize that he was best suited for a life of quiet contemplation. He wished he was a Roman Catholic so he could become a monk.

Back at the bordello, Liz awakened at about noon the next day. When she tried to sit up, she quickly realized that she felt too poorly to be out of bed. With the aid of eight ounces of vodka, she promptly went back to sleep until early evening.

Rosemary Palm was a devout Baptist and insisted all her girls accompany her to services each week. All, that is, except Florence "Kikey Flo" Fishbein, who attended Beth Israel Synagogue. Therefore, because the madam believed in observing the Lord's day, the whorehouse was closed on Sundays. That meant that the place was quiet, and Liz had a sorely needed rest.

When a badly distended bladder finally forced Liz back to consciousness, she felt so weak that she seriously considered just relieving herself where she lay and going back to sleep in the result. Her natural fastidiousness, though, ...... flushed her out of bed and to the bathroom. On the short stagger to the toilet, Liz discovered that she was sore in places where she hadn't even known she had places.

Upon hearing the toilet flush, the concerned madam hurried to check on her young friend and employee, stopping on the way to prepare an eight ounce dose of Liz's favorite cocktail to take to her as a restorative.

Rosie found Ms Maddux sitting naked (except for one white gym sock) on the toilet with her head in her hands muttering, "Sweeeeeeet Jeeeeeeesuuuus ......... Sweeeeeeeeet Jeeeeeeeesuuus ......... Sweeeeeeeeet Jeeeeeeeeesuuus ....... ."

Fearing the worst, Rosie decided to call the doctor in to see Long Liz. The house physician was an alcoholic podiatrist with the astonishing name of Adolph Hitler. The foot doctor blamed his fondness for strong drink on his unfortunate name, but others felt that he could have had it legally changed if he'd ever been sober long enough. Be that as it may, Dr Hitler kept watch over the health of Rosie's girls, requiring only a modest fee and occasional fellation in payment for his services. The fact that the girls were young, basically healthy, and got frequent exercise seemed to offset any of the physician's shortcomings.

Adolph's license to practice had been yanked because of his habitual prescribing of massive doses of amphetamines and opiates for patients with foot disorders, but he continued to attend Rosie's girls. He lived on the ragged edge of delirium tremens, so all but the most elementary surgery was beyond the capacity of his trembling hands. Although he had little knowledge of the human body above the ankles, Der Furher seemed to do little harm.

After slugging down the eight ounces of vodka intended for his patient, the good doctor asked her how she was feeling. Liz said, "Sheeeeeit, Doc, Ah feels lak a gawdam truck done bin driv plumb thew me. Feels lak Ah's split from aishole ta bellybutton, an Ah thank Ah'ma fixin ta die. Sweeeeeeeet Jeeeeeeesus!"

Adolph asked if she had gone against house policy and pulled a train, but Liz denied it. "Naw, it'us jist one skinny whate boy, Doc, with a big ol tallywhacker on hissef lak a swolled up rollin' pin. Sheeeeit, Ah gess thet boy shoved thet thang up ma wrong hole by mistake. Ah tried ta tell him I din' do it thetaway, but ............. dayum! .... it'us jist lak bein' dry cornholed by a fencepost. Sweeeeeeet Jeeeeeeeesus! Y'all got inny idear how thet thar sock come ta be on mah foot?"

The doctor's examination of Liz revealed a nasty bite on one breast, a large wood splinter in her left buttock, abraded knees and elbows, numerous cuts and scrapes, a black eye, a sprained shoulder, an inflamed throat from all the orgasmic vocalization, and incipient bunions which Dr Hitler thought unrelated to the current trauma. Good taste prevents description of other damage, so suffice it to say that there were .... internal injuries.

After removal of the splinter, cleansing and disinfection of various wounds, and four shakey sutures to close the bite, Herr Doktor prescribed warm baths, large quantities of Vaseline to be applied to the more delicate parts, liberal doses of vodka to be taken by mouth, and strict rest between waist and knees for at least a week. He also suggested application of Preparation H ointment for its soothing effect on the swollen, stretched, and inflamed tissue .... back there.

The doctor assured the patient that she would be as good as new in a week or so, but he cautioned her to stay strictly away from whomever had treated her so harshly.

Liz said, "Don' worry 'bout thet, Doc. Thet boy ain nevah gonna git thet dingus uh his thin a mile a me agin. Sheeeeeeeit, I's gonna be laid up fer a week. Shore hopes Ah don' never have no mora them orgamisy thangs. Sheeeeit, they takes it outa a girl. Hay, Rosie, we got worker's comp er sumpin lak thet? Wud somun kinely git that gawdam sock offun ma foot? How come thet thang come to be on me, innyhow? Oh, woe is mah pore ayus! Sweeeeeeeet Jeeeeeesus."

Dr Hitler's professional fee was paid in cash by Rosie Palm and in trade by the aforementioned Ms Fishbein, a skilled fellatrix. Being an Orthodox Jew, Flo's holy day was Saturday, so she felt no religious constraint against ... opening up for business on Sunday. Adolph Hitler felt vaguely uneasy being serviced by someone of Flo's ethnicity, and Ms Fishbein fought a strong urge to bite him.

Rosemary Palm, in addition to her occupation as bordello proprietor, was a talent scout for the local pornography producer, Signore Pecchino "Peaches the Wop" Baccala. After the bout of sexual mayhem between Long Liz and the unidentified college boy, Ms Palm thought Liz might possibly have potential as an actress.

After Liz's week of rest and healing, Rosie called Mr Baccala, and he sent one of his boys over to the bagnio for an "interview" with Liz.

Peaches always used the hired help for such things, because one of his testicles had been removed with a box cutter by a business rival some years before. This amputation was accompanied by a stern warning that the other one would come off if Peaches further encroached on the amateur surgeon's territory. This experience had left Mr Baccala still ...... functional, but the psychological trauma caused him to have only an entrepenureal interest in sex.

Following the interview, the emissary, who suffered from a severe head cold, reported back to his employer that Liz was, in his words, "Gee's fuggun ginny, Bawds, bud a real biss gutter inda sag. Kint unnastan mujja whagee zay, dough. Uh theng yuh mide gibber a dry."

With that recommendation, Peaches Baccala invited the aspiring actress to visit his production facility (room 24 at the Motel 6 out on the highway) for a screen test.

Although Liz's speech was mostly incomprehensible, this did not disqualify her from roles in Signore Baccala's films. His leading ladies had few spoken lines, and their mouths were usually full, anyway.

It turned out that the camera loved Long Liz Maddux, and the rest, of course, is history. Eager to put Liz to work, Mr Baccala had her undergo emergency breast augmentation surgery, after which her body resembled two cantaloupes hung on a broomstick.

As everyone knows, Liz's rise to porno stardom was meteoric, and she starred in a series of box office and video rental hits, produced and directed by Pecchino Baccala.

She had her pick of leading men, with male stars such as John Holmes and the famed Mexican actor Hector "Senor Salami" Rodriguez eager to appear in films with her.

At the height of her career Liz had been cast for the title role in the European epic "Doris Does Denmark," but a bothersome little dose of the clap had her sidelined at the time of shooting.

Yes, Elizabeth Maddux was the reigning queen of filthy movies for a number of years. The trademark which endeared her to her many fans being the famous faked orgasms during which she would shriek, "SWEEEEEEEEEEEEEET JEEEEEEEEEEESUS!"

Her film series "Sweet Sioux, Reservation Slut" in which she appeared with the legendary and well-hung Navajo dwarf Herman "Little Big Man" Polecat, is still considered a classic of the genre.

After her retirement from acting, Liz married Pecchino Baccala, and they settled down to a quiet, comfortable life on a chicken ranch in Arizona. Rumors that Liz quit porn because of injuries suffered during an attempted menage a trois with a turkey and a giraffe were never substantiated. Mr Baccala insisted to the media that Liz and the livestock were "just good friends."

In a recent interview with People magazine, the middle aged, matronly Mrs Elizabeth Baccala was quoted as saying, "Sheeeeit! Ah done me nuf fuckin' fer a laftam, an Ah hopes Ah don't never gotta do it no moah. Ah don' keer iffen ma Peaches only gotten one nut on hissef, he be a sweet ole man an he treat me good. Alls it take ta keep him happy isa lil ol hanjob ever coupla weeks, and thet suit me jus' fine 'cause he usually do it to hissef. One thang Ah ain never gone fergit wus some skinny college boy wita big ole tallywhacker on hissef come inta Rosie's place one naight. Lawdy! Ah hed me somma them orgamismy thangs, en it put me outa action fer a week. Sheeeit! Jes 'magin, sumpin lak thet dingus on a whate boy! Made thet butt ugly Sherlock Holmes dude look lak a fuggin' midget! Sweeeeeeeeeeeet Jeeeeeeeeeeesuuuuuus!"