GoMo BoMo

(Excerpt from "Totally Losing Face and Other Stories")

In the near future.

Sitting at his desk in a remote genetic research lab somewhere in North Central Queensland, Australia, Wallace Hummel peered diligently over several printouts from a recent gene splicing experiment. He leaned back in his squeaky lab chair and looked down at his raging erection, which was struggling to break through the zipper of his tight khaki pants. He shook his head at his crotch, then looked up to the ceiling and twisted his face as he tried to stretch the skin around his tired eyes.

Mitesh Chinkara, Wallace’s coworker, walked into the main lab room and began to place feed into test subjects’ cages.

“Ah Mitesh, the little guy is at it again. Every time I sit in this damn lab chair, I can’t help but get aroused.”

“Perhaps you shouldn’t sit in the lab chair,” said Mitesh with a grin.

“Mitesh, that’s what I like about you, you have the uncanny ability to state the obvious.”

“Perhaps we’ve been working too hard. Maybe we should take a break.”

Wallace swiveled his chair around and directed his attention to Mitesh. “Hmm, what do you have in mind?” he said curiously as he scratched his balls.

“I believe in two hours it will officially be the weekend, at least on the outside. What do you say to having a few beers at that bar in town next to the big Hotel? The last time I drove by, the bar seemed fairly rowdy.”

“I like rowdy, especially after being cooped up in the lab all day and all night. Sometimes I feel like one of our test subjects, like a caged animal.”

“A tall cold glass of fine Aussie brew usually takes the bite out of researching endlessly.”

“Yes, it sure does,” said Wallace.

“Great. When do you think you’ll be ready?”

“Give me a few minutes to close up, then I’ll be raring to go.”

“Super! I should be through feeding the test subjects in about ten minutes.”

Forty minutes later, casually dressed and fully doused in cheap cologne, the two American scientists drove a beat up jeep down the main street of Winton, a small town in the outback of North Central Queensland.

“There she blows,” said Wallace, as he slowed down to park the jeep in front of an old dusty Western-styled bar.

“Banjo’s Last Stop,” said Mitesh. “What kind of name is that for a bar?”

“Doesn’t sound too hip, but one must never judge a bar by its name or something to that effect,” said Wallace as he hopped out of his jeep and glanced over at a few large motorcycles parked out front.

Wallace and Mitesh entered the sparsely populated bar and sat down near an occupied pool table. The two researchers ordered a few appetizers and a few beers.

“Hey Wallace, what do you call a group of scientists?” asked Mitesh.

“I don’t know, what do you call a group of scientists?”

“This isn’t a joke. You know, you always hear people saying ‘a group of scientists’ or ‘a team of scientists’ and I think we need a better, more attractive word to define our people.”

“Okay, how about ‘a throng of scientists.’ That sounds tough and manly. No one would mess with us if we were announced as such.”

“I was thinking that we need something that sounds intelligent,” said Mitesh.

“Okay, how ‘bout a nerd herd of scientists?” Wallace said jokingly.

“No! Come on. How about something like ‘a super intellect of scientists?’”

“Hmm. Hold it. I think I have it. Yes! ‘A noodle of scientists!’ You know, scientists noodle around and use their noodle so why not use noodle?”

“I like mine better.”

“Hey, need another beer,” Wallace asked, looking around for their waitress. “I’ll giddy up to the bar and get us some.”

Wallace leaned over a long bar and asked the bartender for two glasses of Four X beer. A youngish, slightly inebriated female customer perched at the bar leaned over to Wallace and said, “You a Yank?”

“Well, if you’re referring to the fact that I come from America, then yes, you are correct.”

“I like the way you talk. Hey, Linda,” she said to her friend standing at the bar beside her, “ask this guy if he’s a Yank.”

Linda stuck her blonde head across her redheaded friend’s shoulder and shouted, “Hey, you a Yank?”

“Why yes, I am,” Wallace said, not quite sure if it was the desired response.

“Oo, I like Yanks,” said Linda, as she pushed her friend aside and looked Wallace up and down. “And Shell,” she said leaning back and yelling in her friend’s ear, “this one’s good for the bush!” Afterwards, Linda directed her full attention to Wallace. “Hi, I’m Linda, what’s your name?”

“My name is Wallace.”

“Hello Wallace, I’m Linda, oh sorry, I just said that. And this here is Shell,” she said elbowing Shell, who had already struck up a conversation with someone else.

“Oh hi,” said Shell, turning back to Wallace. “You better be careful, I think Linda likes you!”

“Well, what’s not to like? Would you two ladies like to join me and my friend for a round of drinks?”

 

Two hours later, the inebriated foursome was in the jeep heading back to the remote research lab. The radio was blasting as Wallace drove erratically down a deserted dirt road. Mitesh was in the back making time with Shell while Linda was licking Wallace’s ear and grabbing his crotch as he drove. Mitesh pried himself from Shell’s lips and tapped Wallace on the shoulder. “Do you think it’s okay to bring them back to the lab?” he said loudly.

“We want to see the lab!” The girls screamed in unison. “We want to see the lab!”

“Calm down,” Wallace replied as he turned down the music. He shushed the girls and then said in a serious tone of voice, “Ladies, we are taking you to a top secret laboratory. You are to tell no one about the location, or what you see inside. Do you promise?”

“We promise,” they yelled in unison.

“It sounds so exciting,” said Shell.

“Okay, and under no circumstances can you play with the electronic microscopes and absolutely no gene splicing,” he said, tongue in cheek.

“But I want to play on your microscope,” begged Linda.

“And I want to splice your jeans,” pouted Shell as she dove back onto Mitesh’s lips.

A brilliant flash of lightning followed by an ear-shattering clasp of thunder made the two women jump. “Don’t worry ladies,” said Wallace. “Just a bit of rain heading our way.”

“You twose really are remote out here,” said Shell. “Who’s going to protect us if we get flooded?”

“Don’t worry my dear,” said Mitesh snuggling closer to Shell. “We’re trained to handle most any unusual situation, including but not limited to, natural disasters.”

“I feel safer already,” said Linda as the rain began to pour.

Wallace stopped the jeep a few miles from the lab. “Okay ladies, now we must blindfold you before we get to the lab. Remember, our research is very top, top secret! We also must ask that you hide in back under a blanket so the cameras do not detect you.”

“Oo, what are you guys, kinky or something?” said Linda.

“No, just careful. We are working on some very important research, and we cannot reveal any of it to you. In fact, if anyone found out that you two were in the lab, we would be fired immediately.”

“Sounds risky, I don’t know if I can be counted on not to spill the beans,” said Shell. “I might tell if someone beats it out of me,” she said as she winked at Mitesh.

With the girls safely crouched down underneath a blanket in the gap between the front and back seats, Wallace drove the jeep up to a large metal gate, inserted his ID badge into a slot, pressed his thumb on a fingerprint scanner, and entered a code on a keypad. The gate opened slowly and Wallace drove the jeep up to a parking space near the front door of a large nondescript building.

Wallace jumped out of the jeep into the pouring rain, entered another set of digits on a keypad and then quickly opened the front doors of the research lab with a set of keys. He shook off the rain, strutted into a large sparsely decorated lobby and then stood in front of a thick glass door. He inserted his employee ID badge into a slot. An electronic device scanned his face. The door slid open and he entered a small-enclosed containment area, a red light above a second set of glass doors blinked directly in front of him. The door behind him closed. Large jets of air immediately streamed over his entire body and then a suction device below the grate he was standing on sucked up all the dust particles from his body.

A green light appeared and a second door opened. He sauntered down a narrow hallway, entered the main lab, sat down at a computer and brought the surveillance and security systems down. To cover his ass, he sent a message to Headquarters in America stating that he was simply running a security check on the equipment.

He walked to an intercom and informed the others that it was safe to enter. Mitesh held the front doors open as the ladies stumbled into the remote research building, still blindfolded and shaking from the cold rain. Shell nervously walked into the containment area and giggled as streams of air brushed across her body. Linda entered next. Wallace purposely sent a sustained jet of air straight up her small blue jean skirt. Linda squealed as Wallace laughed heartily. “I’ve always wanted to do that,” he chuckled to himself.

Once Mitesh passed through the containment area he said, “Okay ladies, follow me.” The group walked into the slightly cluttered main research room, which housed numerous animal research subjects and a variety of sophisticated equipment. “Okay, we will now remove your blindfolds, but you must swear that you will not touch a thing!”

“I solemnly swear that I will not, under any circumstances touch your thing,” said Linda with a loud cackle.

“I promise not to let Linda touch your thing,” said Shell, hiding her grin with her hand.

Mitesh removed the ladies’ blindfolds. They immediately took in the research lab and were slightly disappointed.

“This is it? This is your big secret?” said Linda.

“It looks like a big, boring lab,” said Shell.

“Well, let me show you where I do my research,” said Mitesh as he escorted Shell out of the central lab.

“I’m going to let you into our advanced research room, but you have to agree not to look at anything along the way,” said Mitesh to Shell as they swayed down the narrow hallway arm-in-arm. “Close your eyes until I say it’s okay.”

“What are you, some kind of secret spies or something?” said Shell.

“Better, we’re a super intellect of scientists. Now close your eyes,” he said while opening the door to a small research room.

“Okay,” she said, putting her hands over her eyes. “Closed tight as a koala’s bum. Tell me when I can open them,” she said, peaking through her fingers.

Mitesh carefully opened the door to his research office and guided Shell in. He purposely left the lights off, but several computer monitors were on, giving the room a very romantic, yet oddly eerie feel. “Okay, you can open up.”

She looked over the room complete with desks along one wall, a huge table in the center and rows of wire cages lining the back wall. “Hey, I’ve never done it in a real lab before,” she said as she removed Mitesh’s glasses and lunged for his lips.

Shell threw her open purse down on the ground, right next to one of the cages and began undressing Mitesh.

Shell heard something rattling in the cages and listened briefly, “Hey, what’s in those cages?”

“Wild animals, don’t get too close,” said Mitesh as he pulled her near to his lips and reached under her blouse for her bra clasp.

“What kind of wild animals?” she said.

“Toads.”

“Toads? Really? That’s disgusting. Here I thought you were putting together a nuclear bomb or something exciting like that. Toads. My God, how, how utterly boring,” she said laughing hysterically. “Toads! Ha, ha, ha!”

After the two had completed a particularly wild act of fornication, Shell got dressed, picked up her purse and wobbled down the hall to a small bathroom to fix herself up. As she reached into her purse for some lipstick, she touched some weird squishy substance covering everything inside. She quickly pulled out her hand; it was covered in a thick warm brownish jelly. “Disgusting!”

(To continue reading this story, please purchase a copy of "Totally Losing Face and Other Stories").

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Excerpt from "GoMo BoMo," a short story in Hillel Groovatti's new book of short fiction entitled Totally Losing Face and Other Stories.