The belchkin-shaped Soda Olheiser scampered back to the spot in the fleshwood forest where the belchkin-shaped Chunks, the belchkin-shaped Cydroidobot, and the belchkin-shaped Edwige were discussing what had become of her. A few feet away was the body of the spiny lumpsucker. When the beast had returned to eat Chunks and Edwige, Cydroidobot bit through the monster’s throat with his sharp metal belchkin teeth, then tore off the lumpsucker’s head and threw it into the nut-bearing hairbushes.

  Everyone was thrilled and relieved to see Soda again, although the brown pthirus goo that was drying on her cyanotic skin and greasy black hair smelled like rotting onion feet. After she had belched the tale of her adventure with the pthiruses (and attempted, unsuccessfully, to clean off some of the psocodea puke with some dead fleshleafs) our friends discussed what to do next. They weren’t quite sure where were they but Cydroidobot belched:

  "I believe that if we head south by south east now we would pass into Schling Quadrant, and continuing in that direction we would eventually reach the home of my friend Rebekkah Earwax."

  "Who is Rebekkah Earwax?" belched Soda, the cyanotic belchkin.

  "Haven't you heard of Mz. Rebekkah Earwax?" belched the molybdenum belchkin. He farted in surprise, and then again marveled that he could fart in belchkin form (as he was normally a non-flatulating robot).

  "No," belched Soda. "Is this Mz. Earwax a humanoid or yokai or robot or alien?

  "Rebekkah Earwax is a large-eared humanoid," explained Cydroidobot, while belching. "She's Titiana’s Secretary of War, a farmer, a guider of meditation, and a fine, eclectic artist- although a bit restless and liable to get excited. Once, a long time ago, she raised an army of teenagers and gremlin-class yokai and called herself 'Kommandant Earwax.' With her army she captured Schmegma City from Ratsack, who was ruling it at the time. But then Titiana came back to rule and Earwax was punished, then she reformed, and Titi made her the War Secretary. Now she lives peacefully on a small farm-slash-sculpture-garden and raises fields of schmacaroons and nuts. They say she can paint pictures so perfect that one can scarcely tell them from reality as we know it. She often repaints the face on Ratsack’s sack when it gets worn out."

  So they walked south by southeast. When they got to Schlingquad they found it was better maintained than Plotzquad, and all the properties were separated by dead fleshwood fences, with pleasantly fleshy, slightly hairy, chocolate-colored paths criss-crossing about and pulsating almost imperceptibly. They did their best to avoid being seen by other Bonertanians and after walking for about three Sifillis-days on contracting-and-expanding roads they found themselves on a greasy knoll looking down upon a small farm that was joyously recognized by Cydroidobot as Rebekkah Earwax’s. The belchkins scurried toward it.

  Upon reaching the place they found it deserted. The front door of the modest chalet stood open, but no soul was inside. In the garden surrounding the chalet were neat rows of schmucknut-bearing blue hairbushes and plush fleshtrees bearing scab scrapples- some of which were still green, but others ripe and ready to eat. Farther back were fields of scabbages, and all the land seemed well cultivated and carefully tended. Scattered about the property were several abstract metal sculptures Rebekkah had welded. The transmogrified belchkins looked through the fields for Rebekkah, but she was nowhere to be seen.

  "Well," finally belched the little metal belchkin, "let us go into the house and make ourselves at home. When Bek returns, she will be greatly surprised."

  "Would she care if we ate some of those ripe scab scrapples?" belched the cyanotic belchkin.

  "No, indeed; Mz. Earwax is very generous," belched Cydroidobot. Our friends gathered a lot of the fruit and some nuts and ate them until their hunger was satisfied. Chunks and Cydroidobot were still blown away by having acquired the ability to taste things, digest them, and the poop them out. After supper the four belchkins entered the chalet’s living room and sat down on Rebekkah’s overstuffed couch.

  "All our troubles," belched the belchkin who was Cydroidobot while sighing, "are because of my dumb choice to seek out Big Fat Fanny and make her empress of the Mukuses."

  "Well, for my part, I am glad you did," belched the four-armed belchkin that was Edwige Kenchington (the Chic Chigger). "If you didn’t, I would still be Minj's prisoner. It is much nicer to have freedom, even though I’m still a belchkin."

  "Do you think we shall ever be able to get our proper forms back again?" belched the cyanotic belchkin that was Soda earnestly.

  Edwige did not make reply at once to this important question, but after a period of thoughtfulness she belched:

  "I believe that there is an antidote for every thaumaturgic charm, yet Mrs. Minj insists that no power can alter her transmogrifications. I realize that my own weak thaumaturgy cannot do it. The enchanted brassiere is very queer in its workings and different from traditional thaumaturgy, but perhaps Nobgoblin or Titiana may understand it better than I. Titiana did master the enchanted jock strap almost instantly.”

  This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  “Piddily-cum-a-zope, in them lies our only hope,” belched the stitched-and-stapled belchkin who was Chunks. “If they can’t help us, we must remain forever as we are."

  Everyone was depressed and they all sat silent for a time (except for the occasional moist belch or fart), and as their thoughts were busy in dwelling upon their dreadful misfortunes none noticed that Rebekkah Earwax had suddenly appeared in the doorway of her living room and was looking at them in astonishment. Rebekkah dropped the bag of groceries she was carrying (a long loaf of bread and some smelery fell out when it landed) and her huge, hair-filled ears shook with rage, for there, farting into her beloved couch, sat four filthy belchkins- one of them covered in sticky pthirus vomit. Rebekkah caught up a Q-tip shaped kendo stick out of the mammoth-foot-shaped umbrella stand by the door and dashed into the room, shouting as she came:

  "Get out of here, you smelly dorkbutts! Get off of my couch and get out!"

  Before any of the belchkins could belch an explanation, with a blow of her cotton swab shinai Mz. Earwax knocked Chunks off the couch and onto the floor. Soda was so startled by the sudden attack that she sprang into the fireplace- where there was fortunately no fire- and her belchkin instincts made her try to escape by climbing up the chimney. But she found the opening too small, and was forced to drop down again. Then she crouched trembling in the fireplace, with soot and ashes all over her.

  "Stop, Mz. Earwax- stop!" belched the molybdenum belchkin, when the giant Q-tip swung towards him. "Don't you know me? I'm your old friend Cy! Cydroidobot!"

  "You're lying, you little jerkface! I can see plainly that you are a stupid repulsive belchkin, and a mighty poor specimen of a stupid repulsive belchkin, at that," retorted the lady.

  "That's because Mallory Minj transmogrified us!" belched Edwige loudly.

  "Who is Mallory Minj?" inquired Rebekkah, pausing with the kendo swab still upraised.

  "A small giant chestikull in Plotzquad," answered Cydroidobot.

  "And this chestikull transmogrified you all?”

  “Aye-ya,” belched Cydroidobot.

  “You are really Cydroidobot?"

  “Aye-ya. But now I’m a miserable little metal belchkin. The four-armed belchkin is our beloved Edwige, and the other two are my friends Soda and Chunks."

  “Piddily-cum-a-zeetra, Really nice to meet’cha,” belched Chunks from the floor, rubbing her head where the kendo stick had struck her.

  "Ugga-Magugga!" cried Rebekkah, amazed; "that chestikull must be a mighty powerful thaumaturge, and as nefarious as she is powerful."

  "She's a real crud," belched Chunks.

  "All of you must forgive me," said Rebekkah, putting the Q-tip shinai back in the pimply pink mammoth foot shaped bumbershoot holder. "I naturally thought you were a gaggle of wild, unmannerly gremlin-class yokai. Please use my house and all that I have, as if it were your own, I'm sorry I haven't the power to help change you back."

  At this declaration of peace, the cyanotic belchkin crept out of the fireplace. Rebekkah looked at Soda critically, and scowled, and said:

  "You're blacker than a coal miner’s arse. You'll get my nice clean room all dirty with soot and ashes. Whatever possessed you to jump up the chimney?"

  "I- I was scared," belched Soda, somewhat ashamed and surprised at herself.

  "Well, you need a good scrubbing up and rubbing up," said Rebekkah, grabbing Soda by the grimy claw paw and dragging her out to the back yard, where the cyanotic belchkin was plunged into a tub of foamy, warm yellow liquid. Mz. Earwax handed her a bar of soap and a scrub brush.

  "Much nicer!" belched Edwige Kenchington after Soda had dried off with a coarse towel. “You are beautiful, for a belchkin.”

  "I'm not a belchkin!" belched Soda- whose pale, bruised skin now shined under the pink, peach-shaped sun- "I'm just a girl in a belchkin's shape!."

  "Well, girl in a belchkin’s shape, come on inside and we’ll all eat schmucknut casserole and watch some movies," said Rebekkah.

  The Soda belchkin belched and farted at the same time. Then they stayed up late and watched four R-rated horror movies on Rebekkah’s 100-inch T.V. set before falling asleep- the four tiny belchkins on the couch and Mz. Rebekkah Earwax in her recliner.