The Count of Spindizzy.

Tarka:
 
The days drift by now, slow as mud but still don't seem to last long at all. 
Enough has been said, enough has been bleed, to tell the story more times 
then can be counted.  None have heard my story. The story of what really 
happend. For unlike the reserchers... unlike the armchair educated. For here 
is the real story of the Count of Twilights End.
 
I was there in dawns light when the count first came to spindizzy in his 
carrage.... I was the first to see the light in his eyes. Here is my story.
 
Terry:
 
When he first came, of course, he came in disguise, as many do. I don't 
remember which disguise he was wearing, except that it was one of the 
standards. The inflatable rabbit, maybe? Even then I knew there was something 
not quite right about him, although at the time I liked it. I thought it 
might make things more interesting.
 
We got into a huge argument, though, over some trivial matter of who killed 
whom, and I ended up storming off to bed in a huff. The next day, he showed 
up in his true form. I recognized him instantly.
 
Adara:
 
It was my great-uncle Mack!  "Great-uncle!"  I cried out, "Hush, hush boy, 
I'm not your great-uncle in this land.  I am the Count of Twighlights End.  I 
plan to take over Spindizzy in a months time.  Would you like to help me?"
My great uncle smiles, as I said, "
 
Tarka:
 
"Oh yes Count! Us otters have to stick together but may I ask what it is 
about hte Count of Twighlights End? Couldn't have have picked something a 
little more otterish? Like Count of Muddy Bog? Or Count of Alge Covered Pond? 
Or Count of the Blood I Ate its Head Off Fish?"
 
The Count could only shake his head. "My young man... you just dont understand-
." He took me under his arm and led me ot Twilights end... a maze of rooms 
nad looktraps that left the world in awe...
 
Terry:
 
Obviously, he'd had this planned for a long time, @archived and awaiting his 
arrival. We walked the labyrithine halls, and I pointed out mispellings and 
other small editing errors, which he fixed while lecturing me on his plan, 
although I wasn't really listening.
 
But imagine my surprise when I got home and discovered that I was no longer 
an otter! His looktraps had altered me, a little at a time, until I was a 
hideous mutant creature with wings and claws, and five tails. I wondered if 
maybe I should have listened to him more carefully.
 
Adara:
  
I was really pissed, so I called him, "Hey, what's the big idea..."  "Listen, 
you twerp," I was interrupted by Mack, "You can't possibly expect to help in 
a form that everyfur recognizes you in, right?  Anyway, he's the plan:  I'm 
going to give every Spindizzian some food or drink that has a special potion 
in it that will hypnotise them and make them succumb to my sexual...I mean, 
god-like powers.  Problem is, the potion tastes like rancid milk and smells 
like shit warmed by a summer's day.  I need your help in finding a way to 
disguise the potion, then deliver it to our soon-to-be loyal subjects."
 
Tarka:
 
All I could do was shake my head.. "No no Mack... you don't try and disguise 
the taste of hte stuff... its all in how you package it and sell it. Every 
cup should be packaged in a gold trimed cup. Then sold to them as a delicasy..-
. something that you 'normmaly' can't get.... A must have for everyone."
 
You could just hear the count cracking a smile on the other side of the 
phone... the feeling of five tails and wings forgotten for the moment.... 
excited by the very idea of a massive marketing push... trying to sell rancid 
milk for outragously expensive prices.
 
Terry:
 
Of course, the best advertisement is word of mouth. And there are some 
critters who'll eat anything. AND it had mind-control overtones... so 
starting the fad was a simple matter of finding one person that I was sure 
would eat it. So I went to the wolverine. Wolverines eat anything, right?
 
Well, they don't, apparently, eat anything offered to them by suspiciously 
looking five-tailed winged thingies that they don't recognize, so I had to 
settle for a seagull. I convinced him that it was a new kind of fish, and he 
ate it right up.
 
"You think it's really good, don't you?" I prompted.
 
"Yes, it is very good. And all for me! Give me more fish!"
 
I considered that a success, and with that testimonial, I prepared my big 
marketing push.
 
Adara:
 
I thought for a moment, and came up with a devilish plan: I should SELL this 
product for a profit...the same product that will make them slaves forever!  
I was so pleased that I couldn't resists.  "If you want more, I need 200 
dollars."  "TWO HUNDRED DOLLARS?!?  What kind of..."  I put the potion to the 
test, "You WILL pay me two hundred dollars for this fish."  I chanted.  The 
gull's eyes suddenly went blank, and he said in a mechanical voice, "Yes, I 
will pay 200 dollars. "  He gave me the money, and flew off, potion in hand
 
Tarka:
 
The day was made and soon the coustomers were pooring in asking for rancid 
milk by the case! I was making money paw over fist and my new look and 
picture was all over Spindizzy... BillBoards and as advertisements attaged to 
everyones page and mail. It was a little later that I got a call from the 
Count.
 
"My dear friend. I would like to order more rancid milk. Do you have door to 
door delivery?" 
 
I was in awe... The Count of Twilights End had fallen victum to his own 
plan... I... was now master of spindizzy..
 
Terry:
 
I was so excited that I decided to deliver the potion myself! But when I 
rushed to the cellar to get a bottle, and discovered to my horror that there 
was none left. I have to admit that for a second, my reason fled from me, and 
with my claws and massive fangs I rent huge gashes in the walls of my house, 
and accidentally knocked over my television with one of my tails.
 
When I went to the fridge to get a beer to try to calm myself down, though, I 
saw an old container of milk that I'd never thrown out. I knew it wasn't the 
same... but it would taste the same. Maybe once they'd had the initial dose 
it would be enough?
 
It would have to be enough. I poured it into an empty bottle, and headed off 
to the Count.
 
Adara:
 
My uncle opened the door, and I waved the bottle in front of his face. 
"Before you get this, we need to talk."  He nodded, but through his blank 
eyes I thought I saw a glimmer of hatred.  I stood before him, "Before you 
get this, I NEED the recipie for this potion."  My uncle looked at me, and 
opened his mouth to speak.  What would he say??
 
Tarka:
 
The words came out like the chant of an old and dasterlly and evil spell.. 
"First you start with truely rancid milk... then the hairs off the chin of a 
kat... only any kat... but a female kat in heat... then you must stir three 
times left... and four times right.... saying the words "Katt Katt Katt" over 
and over again. THen you must mix double shots of rum in there and shake... 
don't stir... last of all you need warm otter cream.... nothing else will 
do." He grab my rancid milk and slamed the door... now I was stuck... I 
wasn't an otter at the moment.
 
Terry:
 
Of course, there was ONE otter from which I could get the cream... and his 
mind was already under my control. Gender-shifting was pretty easy for me, so 
I became a sultry, seductive winged, clawed, five-tailed THING, and snuck 
back into my Uncle's house. EWWW, I thought suddenly, MY UNCLE! But it would 
be worth it, to rule Spindizzy.
 
I tracked him through the various rooms and halls of his house, even though 
he was always one step ahead of me, still clutching his bottle. "Hey, wait!" 
I said after him, but he ignored me until we'd reached the very heart of his 
lair.
 
"Ah, you want the otter cream, don't you?" he asked me, a sudden scary light 
in his eyes. I realized with a start that I was once again just an otter... 
and that he was much larger than me. He grabbed me by the scruff, before I 
could react, and forced the rancid milk down my throat. "Drink up, nephew! 
Er, neice! NYA HA HA HA HA HA! I was on to you all along!"
 
Adara:
 
I coughed up as much of the milk as I could.  Suddenly, my temporary female 
instincts took over.  I kicked him in the groin.  Hard.  He screamed and 
dropped me as I ran down to his Basement of Pure Evil.  I opened a cupboard, 
but was attacked by my uncle, who tackled me.  We wrestled on the floor for a 
long time.  Everytime I looked up, I saw it: a bottle of Otter Cream
 
Tarka:
 
It was then that I knew that I had to get his collection of otter cream... it 
must have taken months to get that much... so I kicked the count in the nuts 
again and grabed the bottle of milk white semi liquid and darted out the 
door... I had it! The cream of control... the exlir of my power.... 
 
Terry:
 
I could hear him behind me, though, as I ran through his mansion, dogging my 
steps... but he couldn't catch me, and I ran out into the street, victorious. 
"My minions! Help me! Stop him!" I cried to the passersby, who were no doubt 
under the thrall of the potion.
 
But my uncle burst out behind me, huge and winged and clawed and many-tailed, 
and said, in my voice -- my real voice, not changed as mine was by shifting 
gender, "No, obey me! Get her! Don't let the thief escape!"
 
Adara:
 
My heart began to thump wildly.  The zombie-passerby obeyed my uncle, and 
both gave chase to me.  I looked to my left and saw a convertable, top down.  
I jumped in and, using my claws, managed to start the vehicle.  I had just 
begun driving off when I heard a sput sput sputter-sput!
 
Tarka:
 
Low nad behold... the damn car was out of gas... the rampaging throngs of 
zombies close behind... so I did the only think that an otter could do... I 
poor the contents of the otter cream into the gas tank....
 
The theory is this... if otters are go go creatures... then otter cream 
should be go go juice.... 

Terry:
 
And maybe it would have worked, if it hadn't been so viscous. Before very 
much at all got in the tank, the zombies had caught me, and they held me down 
and beat me until my uncle, the count, finally came up and ripped me to 
shreds with his claws and teeth, and sent me straight to heck.
 
So, you understand, I wasn't there to see the big finale, when without the 
otter cream -- which got spilled in the fight -- my uncle was unable to make 
more of the potion, and during the withdrawal the wizards enacted their 
punishment on him. By the time I'd managed to come up with a way out of heck, 
all that was over with.
 
Adara:
 
You see, I met a very nice wallaby while I was down here.  His name is 
Morticon, and, according to him, he is down here wrongfully.  He was framed, 
so he says.  It took 16 months and over 200 bottles of vodka, but we 
eventually thought of a plan to get our butts out of here
 
Argon:
 
At first, the Wallaby spent day and, well day as there is no night in heck, 
telling me about some plot that was a conspiracy to blah blah blah and now he 
was stuck in heck.  After ignoring him as long as I could, I found that heck 
was divided into rings.  Rings...Fire, that was shiny...   Rings, shiny..  
Heck was run by Raccoons!  And if anyone knew anything about cheap vodka, it 
was...
 
Tarka:
 
The Raccoons of everdark... they knew more about cheap vodka then any 
creature alive. So we took off to go see the raccoons of everdark and our 
plans on buiding a big vodka powered rocket ship... and blast our way out of 
heck nad right to spindizzy again.... so we spent all of day and day 
traveling accross the lakes of fire... (I still 'ave the blisters from that 
walk... gads... heck is no place for an otter.) and finally... we got there.
  
The gate into the everdark was quarded by to very well endowed vixens and so 
Mort and I hatched a plan to flirt our way into the gate. I slicked my ears 
back and went to the vixen on the right. "Hey there cute stuff... ever 'ad it 
on with an otter before... we give a 'full cup' don't you know."
 
Terry:
 
Of course she stabbed me with her spear, but since I was already in heck that 
didn't really do much. So I tried again, while Morticon worked the vixen on 
the left. With persistance and a high tolerance for pain, I eventually won 
her over. But then I had to do Mort's too, since he was so unappealing that 
even the prospect of being flirted at forever wasn't enough to get a vixen to 
dally with him.
 
But at long last, we were inside, and what I saw there shocked me to the VERY 
CORE!
 
Argon:
 
There, in all it's glory was the tunnel digging machine from that movie that 
had a giant tunnel digging machine that bored it way to the center of the 
Earth.  The Vixens had strung lights and silk and put curtains on the windows 
and made a real home of it.  In an interesting turn of events, I told the 
Vixens that I wouldn't 'go ut' with them unless my less attractive 'friend', 
Morticon had a date too.  They reluctantly agreed and Morti was escorted by a 
blind one legged Vixen with the mumps.  We were taken inside their 'home', 
the tunnel digger where the Vixens expected to show us their favors.  My 
three Vixen 'dates'. Otters are quite popular with the ladies you know, went 
to the top of their home, which coincedentally was the control room.  One 
there, as I was being snuggled, I was able to activate the digger with my.. 
well, I hit the right lever and the machine started and began traveling 
upwards.  After several screams of delight from the Vixens claiming that I 
had made the Earth move, the digger brok
 
 the digger broke through the surface of SpinDizzy and crashed on it's side.  
The Otter was back home, safe and sound.  In addition, a lot of Vixens from 
Heck were loose. There may be few complaints about that.
 
As far as Morticon and his Vixen, nothing was heard.  Although there has been 
an epidemic of mumps near the junkyard.