Cuckoo's Nest

The chief, absorbing Crochet's spiel, walked over to tear a drinking fountain off the wall. He began carrying it to the door to the sun room.

"Where are you taking that, Chief?" she asked the giant redskin gone amok.

"How." Chief said.

Nurse Crotchet explained," That means 'hello' in the racist Indian talk used in the 1950s TV shows and movies . That's all the big guy knows. That's what watching way too many cowboy shows in the game room will get you. But we don't want him to lose his Native American heritage completely. That's one of our core values at the Allen Institute."

The Chief pointed a finger gun at Nurse Crotchet and made a clicking sound with his lips and said "Cowabunga."

What are you going to do with that drinking fountain, big guy?" she asked the formerly catatonic redskin.

"Chief smash," the once-taciturn acromegalic prairie monkey said, echoing the sentiments often expressed by the Hulk in many Marvel Comics movies.

"Knock yourself out," Crochet said and stepped aside from the door to the sunroom. "You know you don't have to smash it. The door's wide open."

The Chief lifted the drinking fountain over his head and threw it through the glass wall of the atrium."

"Or you could smash it, whatever."

The catatonic Indian and Marfan's Syndrome patient looked over at Rhonda and Nurse Crotchet, and said "Kemosabes," motioning them to accompany him through the shattered atrium wall.

He directed his next words to the psychiatric nurse, "Nurse Crotchet licks with forked tongue."

After some thought, he said, "Chief like Nurse Crotchet," echoing Mongo's sentiments about Sheriff Bart in Blazing Saddles.

"You won't get to see my forked tongue ever again, if we go out there." She gestured to the fires and smoke of what to all accounts seemed to be a raging inferno."

"I'm not sure that I really want to go out there," Rhonda told Nurse Crotchet.

"Look, McMurphy, I never promised you a rose garden."

"True enough, but I've only known you for three-quarters of a day."

"Point taken," she said, but we may not have any option. It looks like the outside world may be coming to us.

Rhonda fallowed Crotchet's gaze, and saw the Chief using the drinking fountain to knock down the wire fence separating the Allen Institute from the outside world. The angry mob poured through the newly-created opening and onto the grounds of the Institute.

As our horny triumvirate made their way through the newly-created gap in the fence, they came upon a pile of writhing pulsating flesh which was continually metamorphosing into collections of erotogenic organs such as cocks, snatches, tongues, ears and so on. All three of them felt a strong pull to the pile. The Chief took a few steps in that direction, but Nurse Crotchet grabbed his pulsating flesh mega-tomahawk and pulled him away from the pile of writhing flesh,

She hooked elbows with one of the marauding invaders and stopped him in his tracks. She pointed to the pile of writhing flesh. "What is that? she asked one of the barbarians flowing through the gates.

"They're calling it a 'cum scrum'" the Viking-like invader informed the psychiatric nurse.

"Why do we feel compelled to jump into it?"

It's the pull of the Flynn Skin. Once Flynn Skin touches Flynn Skin, it creates a pleasure that surpasses all others. All wearers of the Flynn Skin are inexorably drawn to every other creature wearing the demonic faux flesh. We are all doomed."

Rhonda could see the smoke from the burning of countless cities. She pointed to what was to all appearances a pile of writhing skeletons. "What's that?" she asked the marauder, who was filling the role of Beatrice to her Dante.

"Those are called boner wraiths," the outlander said. Rhonda peered closely and she saw that the bones were barely moving, mere cinders of their former cum scum selves.

"Do we all wind up like this?"

"Yupperdoo," her Beatrice said. "No one can resist the pull of Flynn Skin. The boner wraiths are those who have neglected their own biological needs in favor of continual sexual pleasure to the point that they are reduced to skeletons."

The musketeers felt the growing void closing in around them and felt the inexorable pull of the writhing cum scrum before them.

"Fuck it." Rhonda and Nurse Crotchet said simultaneously cried. For his part the Chief raised an phantom rifle over his head and yelled "Geronimo." All three of our intrepid musketeers joined hands and jumped without reservation. into the nearest cum scrum.