Trodemus, Prophet of Doom opened his eyes to the sound of his Cherished Chubby, Belinda! He arose from his Bed of Doom to see her lying naked on a table in the middle of their bedroom!
"Belinda? What is the meaning of this? Why are you lying naked without the presence of Doom upon you?"
Belinda raised her curvaceous body up off the table and Trodemus saw that she had been laying on money that had been spread out on the table beneath her!
"It's your money, Troddie! I love it!" Belinda then began to roll her enormous sweaty body all over the table, rubbing herself across the money and laughing. Green 100 dollar bills pressed up against her large breasts, belly, thighs and butt and flattened until they stuck! She was left with a body full of cash-covered curves!
"Belinda! What are you doing? The Prophet of Doom enjoys all your sexy games but that is my money you are rolling your big ass on! Reserve your curves for your man!"
Belinda refused to listen and rolled up a few 100 dollar bills and moved them down to her crotch area!
"Oooo Troddie! Oooo your money gets me hot!"
Trodemus was at first appalled, but then smirked as he watched his large lady love pleasure herself with his finances! It was oddly gratifying!
Suddenly the sound of a doorbell was heard, followed by a strange popping sound. Before anyone could move to answer the door, one appeared in the wall across from Trodemus and Belinda! The door then flew open to reveal strange beings with oversized rounded heads and impossibly small bodies. The all had round dark eyes and made a popping noise. Trodemus stared in fright as the creatures ran for Belinda!
"Belinda! Stay away from her!!" Trodemus yelled from his bed. The creatures leapt up onto the table with Belinda and began to pull the money off of her body!
"Stop! What are you foul creatures doing to my beautiful Belinda?!? Begone!"
Belinda laughed as one of the creatures peeled a 100 dollar bill from her breast. "Hey, that tickles! It's okay Troddie! They aren't foul, they're funky!
Trodemus glared. "Funky?"
Belinda giggled. "Yeah! They're called Funky Poppers! It's because of the popping sound they make and because well, they're funky!"
"Trodemus does not care what they are, he just wants to know why they are here touching his lady love and taking his money!"
"Well they get the money because I bought them!" Belinda twisted her curves to allow the little Funky Poppers to get several bills out from under her rolls.
"What are you saying? Did you squander the finances of Doom again?!?
Belinda smiled and picked up one of the Funky Poppers. "I spent it all Troddie--on these little guys! Aren't they cute?"
"Bah! They hardly resemble anything human! Such funky body types are very unrealistic and not at all appealing to Trodemus of Doom! You are telling me that you've gone and got yourself a collecting habit?"
"Umm...yeah! It really is a habit too! I bought one and then I had to have more! I kept buying until I got all you see here!" The room had filled with what appeared to be hundreds of Funky Poppers!
Trodemus groaned. "And how much did they cost you?"
"Well they were different prices, but I got most of them around $75 each!"
Doom put both hands to his head in pain over such a financial loss! That is when the room began to turn upside down, and he suddenly found himself on the ceiling while Belinda was below him on what appeared to be the floor. Trodemus tried to reach Belinda or get her attention but he could not. She appeared to be frozen in place and did not respond.
"What...is going on now? Trodemus demands an answer!"
The wall across from him suddenly swirled as a circular rush of energy expanded into some sort of portal! Out of the portal stepped a bald headed woman in a business suit.
"Oh Trodemus, what if I told you this reality is one that's miniature? If you want to make your reality bigger you gotta change your hairstyle! We can be stronger together if you're with me!"
All characters, stories, photos, drawings, and performances
are (C) 2016 Joshua Dyson & Crevice CreationsAll characters appearing in this work
are fictitious. Any resemblance to real
persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental
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