22: Not Exactly Superheroes

“You know what she’s thrown at me during her judgy mood swings?” Holly asked Shakira, as they were waiting for Strawberry to get ready to go out.
“No…what exactly?” Shakira adjusted her headscarf, which she decided to wear in a more fitted style for today.
“An empty can of tuna, a lit joint, an apple core and a cat.” Holly sighed. Normally, when an ex-Domes/New Washington woman got pregnant, she would have the baby transferred to one of the incubator jars in the crèches at about 4 months, but Jessica 6 and several friends decided to give birth to and raise their children themselves. Holly was a target for their bitchings, because until 3 days ago she was 18 weeks pregnant with twins and had them transferred.
“Why would she do that? You were pregnant too.”
“I’m different and that’s bad. She doesn’t understand that for me, motherhood isn’t freedom because I value my independence like you…and if being a mother is freedom then I don’t want her freedom.”
Shakira smiled a little. “Now you know a little of what it is to be judged for wearing hijab. Jessica judges me too, for both this and my choice to not have children”, she said, touching her scarf.
Their conversation was interrupted by Strawberry bursting into the room. “AAAAAAAAHH! I was just checking my email and someone told me that there is a dirty video of me on SpaceTube!”
“Strawberry this is why I told you-“
“No Shakira. This was one of me and Elvis; I don’t film myself having sex and neither does he!” She half-jumped onto the couch, a little like a rag doll. “I remember that day, it was the day I met Farrah, then Elvis found me…” she trailed off. “The channel belongs to some people who call themselves the Medikidz.”**
Shakira was shocked. “The Medikidz? I know them, they’re a group of 5 ‘superheroes’ from some physics-defying planet who cannot comprehend anything outside of conventional medicine, but they still give medical advice to kids! And then there’s the stalking and property damage!”
Elvis then entered the room. “Wait you know these people? And they do this all the time?”
“Unfortunately yes”, Shakira said. “I also know where to find them if you want to confront them about their behaviour.”
“Sure! They have dozens of stalking videos and it’s time they stopped!”
“I wanna be known again for my music, not for having sex with an old friend!” Elvis added.
“Well step into my TARDIS and we can end this nonsense” Shakira replied, getting up.
Once they were standing at her TARDIS console, she entered the co-ordinates and explained, “They live on a planet that resembles a human body, but this is in a galaxy where the laws of nature do not always apply so for them this is normal.” As soon as they took off, the TARDIS walls began to shake.
“Ow!” Strawberry said as she fell to the floor, unable to hold onto anything due to her lack of arms.
“That would be the lightning. I always have trouble going to this galaxy” Shakira sighed.
They landed somewhere in the non-sentient human body’s brain, just outside their ‘enemies’ headquarters. Strawberry then walked up to the front door, and knocked it with one foot. “Hello? Helloooooo?” There was no answer. “Maybe they’re not home.”
Holly paused. “Wait, I can hear something…it sounds like some guys with big egos!” She led them to the source, which wasn’t very far, actually in a nearby sinus cavity.
“Salaam aleikum, where are the Medikidz?” Shakira asked. The only…’people’ around were some squishy looking aliens in uniform. These pointed down to four left over zip lines that seemed to lead to wherever these so-called superheroes were.
“We have to go down those?” Strawberry sighed, as her lack of arms was currently bothering her.
“Baby what about that thing you did with the stripper’s pole? You locked your feet together to slide down it” suggested Elvis, enjoying this memory.
“Sure if I don’t mind going head first…oh fine” she said, and continued, “if I land on my head Shakira can have me healed in three days!” then stuck her tongue out.
“Okay, let us see where this goes” mumbled Shakira, and then grabbed the coat-hanger-ish thing attached to one of the lines. Holly was next, for although she was a little timid, Shakira did make her feel safe; then it was Elvis’ turn, and finally, Strawberry’s, after she fit her legs through the hanger-thing and held on tight as gravity did its work. It seemed that everyone could hear the loud “AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!” coming from the four; Strawberry was screaming the loudest. They fell/glided around the midbrain and into the spinal column, zipping down the body’s neck, and after this they slowed down as they ended their trip in one of the arms. “Ow!” Shakira exclaimed as she let go and fell to the ground (it appeared to be a bone), then Holly faceplanted on the ground/bone, and so did Elvis. Strawberry horizontally faceplanted onto the side of a muscle and was pushed back a little. “Hey can I have some help here?” she asked, so then Shakira and Elvis picked her up and let her get back on her feet.
Holly got up, walked over and rested her head on Shakira. “So…we’re in a giant arm?”
Shakira scanned their surroundings with her sonic screwdriver. “Yes we are, and this defies the laws of nature as I know them.”
“Hey there’s a sign…it says ‘this way to bone marrow’ and it’s pointing to those stairs!” Elvis said.
“I assume they’ve gone down there”, replied Shakira as she headed over to the stairs. “I think the ground is vibrating, they are probably doing something silly.” The others followed her, as she seemed to know these people and their antics quite well.
“Oh COME ON!” Shakira yelled once they were inside the bone marrow. The Medikidz, an assortment of freaks and some human kid were singing – something to do with leukaemia.
“And they do this, all the time?” Strawberry asked flatly.
“It has been known. They are idiots after all.”
“Why is that something to sing about?” Holly asked.
“They have their own brand of education. That is all I can say about it.”
Strawberry rolled her eyes. “Hey listen! Why are you using chemo when you have cannabis oil, you have nutritional therapies which go great with the oil, and what about antineoplastons? Burzynski is a sweetie pie and a genius!”
The freak-things and Medikidz weren’t having any of it. They answered with:
#“No, no, no, noooooooooo
No, no, no
Stick to the stuff you know
It is better by far
To keep things as they are
Don’t mess with the flow, no, no
Stick to the status quo”#
“Hey! We don’t see cancer as often as, say, Earth, but this IS what we know and losing patients more often than once a decade makes you a bad doctor by our standards!” Shakira added, getting pissed off by the weirdos that inhabit Mediland. Said weirdos responded with a “Stick to the status- Stick to the status- Stick to the status quo!” and an assault of pies to all four of their faces.
“What the hell is your problem?” Elvis demanded to know. He was usually patient, but who could maintain that around people like this?
“We’re the Medikidz!” the offending ‘superheroes’ announced.
“I KNOW!” Strawberry interrupted them before they could start their corny introduction. “You filmed me and Elvis having sex in my car and put it on SpaceTube!” she explained. Holly scowled at them while eating the residual pie still on her face.
“Hey you’re the hot bum doctor in one of our videos!” the stupid fat one said.
“Bum doctor? Does anyone ever punch you for saying that? The word is ‘proctologist’” Strawberry corrected him. “You’re gonna take that video of me and Elvis down, or, umm, or we’re gonna get all the police who’ve tried to arrest you for vandalising stuff and bring them here!”
“The TARDIS is bigger on the inside so yes we can do that!” Shakira threatened. “And I have done it before!”
“Alright if you promise not to come back here, we’ll delete it”, the stupid blonde one said.
“Only if we see you deleting it”, Strawberry added, and Elvis agreed.
“Okay, deal then.”
They all went back to their headquarters, where Strawberry and Elvis watched them delete the video off of both their SpaceTube account and their computer. After this, they parted ways, as the Medikidz went back to their shenanigans and the four went back to Shakira’s TARDIS, to do something a bit more sane then the brainfuck that their day so far had been.

(**A/N: a fucking weird comic series where the MK’s get away with everything stupid they do and ignore alternative medicine. I had to make fun of them)


5: Differences

“How long have you been a doctor now Shakira?” Farrah asked as Shakira was putting on her makeup.
“For more than seventy years! I’m 99 now…do you remember? I was expected to just get married and have children, but I love being independent and helping people, being a mother is not for me.”
Farrah turned around. “I think you guys are so lucky, because you don’t age.”
“Of course we are!”
Putting her beanie on, Farrah said: “I’ve had some work since I last saw you…until I got sick…you know what happened.”
“When I read your medical records, I thought: OW! MY SOUL! So I know….every detail.” Shakira finished with her makeup and put her things away.
“Someone’s knocking on the door” Farrah touched Shakira’s shoulder to get her attention. “You should answer the door.” She walked over to the door of her TARDIS and opened it. “Salaam aleikum Strawberry! I heard you came here early…you can come inside”
Strawberry gave a perverted smile. “Yes I did….I like Dex, we’re friends now too.” Farrah came to meet her. “Hey I’m Strawberry Fields, just so you know I do everything with my feet because –“
“You don’t have any arms!”
It was true. Strawberry was born with short stumps instead of proper arms, so she had to learn to do everything with her feet, and to a lesser extent, her mouth.
“No I don’t, but I have feet gloves! I get them from a planet where they have four feet instead of two hands and two feet, because we travel through time and space we see a lot of species with different sets of senses and limbs and stuff, so we don’t have disability discrimination.” They walked into Shakira’s spare bedroom, while its owner waited outside. Strawberry put her bag down, jumped onto the bed then removed her shoes and replaced them with feet gloves. This exposed her frilly underwear from under her 1950s style dress; she really did look like a red haired Marilyn with her hair somehow styled in that manner.
“So how are you compared to a few days ago?” she asked, legs in lotus position and flipping her hair back with one arm stump.
“Well I was actually able to eat something yesterday! And I have more energy and Shakira says my heart and breathing aren’t slow like they were yesterday and when I first came here. She said it could have been from the morphine.”
Strawberry’s eyes widened, for she disapproved of morphine and wondered why some people still don’t use the alternatives that never make her job harder. They talked some more, and Farrah’s medical history, which Shakira sent her earlier, was so depressing that Strawberry started crying and wanted to hug her, but Farrah wanted to comfort Strawberry instead of it being the other way around. Strawberry looked at her watch, which she wore as an anklet. “I think I’d better examine you now” she said.
“What the fucking hell? He let it get this bad? Don’t worry I’ve seen cases like this cured, but I’ve only seen them in people coming from places with names like Forbidden Zone and other hopeless sounding names” she said while in a position requiring a considerable amount of core strength, flexibility and mental maturity.
“I thought I could trust him to take care of me but now I know that he should have known better…you know there are photos of him on the internet posing like a model?”
“Wanker…also your radiation burns make you look like you went to the Forbidden Zone.” Strawberry rolled her eyes and took her gloves off. “I think that besides just eating the cannabis oil, you should apply it directly to the tumours, but I can’t show you how today because I don’t have my suppository moulds, so maybe some other time I will. As for your ex-doctor, I’m the Greatest Lover in The Galaxy so let’s see him beat that!”
“Thankyou…wait you’re what?”
“There’s a website where people vote for the greatest lover…I knocked this mad scientist named Frank N Furter down to second place and he didn’t take it well” she laughed.
“Hey! Strawberry! Someone outside says that someone’s here to see you! He says it’s really urgent and to get out here now!” Shakira yelled from outside the room.
“Really? I guess I gotta go now” Strawberry said, then picked up her bag. She left the TARDIS and soon found out who was so desperate to see her.
She gasped. “ELLLLVIIIIIIIIS! I thought you were dead, and you look amazing for someone who must be so old!”
“I was, then Frank N Furter brought me back to life! He’s out to get me, and everyone’s saying that he’s here!”
“Well come on back to my Mustang, I’ll get us back to my homeworld, and my own time because this is 4 years into the past for me.” She was so happy to see her former lover, one of her all-time favourites, alive again. They ran back to her Mustang, which obviously could travel through time and space despite it’s appearance, and started to kiss passionately, among other things. Little did they know, two women belonging to an odd group of superheroes who called themselves the ‘Medikidz’ were watching. Nobody with diseases or sick family members were appearing on their stalker-vision computer, so instead they were spying on Farrah’s doctors, because an armless proctologist having sex with Elvis Presley was better than what was on their TV.
“Oh…Strawberry! I certainly missed THIS! I still remember when you took my virginity all those years ago!” he said, unaware of their stalkers, but that was okay because the Medikidz were also wanted for countless charges of vandalism so it was inevitable that they would eventually be punished for their stupidity.

A/N: http://cannabisnationradio.com/corrie-yelland

1: Resurrection

Frank N. Furter turned off his “vintage” television set. Michael Jackson rehearsing for his tour, blah blah…Farrah Fawcett in hospital, sad, but he didn’t really care…Billy Mays yelling at him to buy something, fuck off…now it was time for him to actually get some work done. He had trained Rocky very well in being a scientist’s assistant, but his handsome sex slave was too stupid to do most of the work, unlike Riff Raff the last time. The fucking bastards had abandoned him and Rocky 30 years ago, and that Columbia ran off to become a successful dancer. Whatever, she was an irritating little slut, just like that Strawberry Fields bitch who had just stolen the title of Greatest Lover in the Galaxy from him. Well, she wasn’t going to steal any limelight from him now, no, tonight he was aiming for fame by reviving the frozen Elvis Presley! It took considerable effort to find and take him, all frozen in carbonite at the bottom of a depressing mausoleum in a depressing graveyard, but it was fucking worth it. He had shown off the frozen Elvis to various alien guests, and now wanted to bring him to life and take all the credit for it. Resurrecting a legend had to be worth a Nobel Prize or something AND getting recognised as the greatest scientist Earth had ever seen! Frank rode his lift to the lab while striking a sexy pose, despite the fact that nobody was watching. “Rocky!” he greeted the blonde like one would greet a charming husband, “is everything ready for the king’s….resurrection?” He smiled and wriggled his eyebrows suggestively, and they paused to admire each other, both as young and beautiful as the day Rocky was brought to life.

“Yes, uh, madam”. Rocky learnt to never call him “sir”, ever.

“Good.” He put on his green coat and mask over his usual black corset. His lab was minimalistic, like all labs, except for the giant rainbow flag hanging on one wall. On the floor was Elvis, still imprisoned by the carbonite slab. The aliens who preserved him in case any others wanted to bring him back had done a very good job of it; however, they would not be getting any credit, partially because Frank did not know who they were.

Frank moved over to the laser’s control board. He selected the “heat” setting, as he simply needed heat to vaporise the carbonite, and guided the laser beam around Elvis to avoid injuring him. It was quite obvious that Frank was enjoying this, bringing the dead back to life was a fucking ego boost. As the carbonite disappeared, much like dry ice, Frank walked over to get a closer look. He smiled and thought: hello there, you look better than what I expected. The aliens who froze him even dressed him, in a 50’s black suit with a green satin tie, which Frank deemed unnecessary. “Rocky!” he yelled, once again trying to sound like a woman from an old ‘50s film.

“Yes boss?”

“Get the defibrillator!” he said with some kind of dramatic look on his face.

“Yes boss” he answered, and did exactly as he was told so his boss could restart Elvis’ heart. Three minutes of CPR followed this, and since it sometimes did resemble pashing, yes Frank was getting off on doing it. Then, Elvis opened his eyes.

“Who’s there? I can’t see anything!”

“Someone who loves you”, Frank said with a deceptively feminine voice, and kissed him for real this time.

“Ginger? Is that you baby?”

He laughed silently, answered with a “Yes, dear” and kissed him some more. Unfortunately for Frank, the blinding effects of the carbonite were quickly wearing off, and Elvis realised that he was not making out with Ginger.

Elvis screamed. “You’re not Ginger, you’re a MAN dressed like a woman!”

“I’m not much of a mayyun, honey, I’m a Sweet Transvestite…from Transsexual, Transylvania…haha!”

“You trying to rape me weirdo?”

“But you liked it, didn’t you?”, he smiled.

“NOT ANYMORE AND GET AWAY FROM ME!” By now, Elvis had the strength to roll out of Frank’s reach, get up and run like hell out of the castle doors, not before stealing some money. He ran to the nearest convenience store, because technically he hadn’t eaten anything in 32 years. After buying and eating a cheeseburger and coke, he noticed an unclaimed motorbike, hotwired it, and started his journey to Dreg’s Den, a place in Roswell where alien time travellers (well the ones who illegally change the past), space pirates and general rebels come to hang out and hide out undisturbed by the US government and every faction of law enforcement. He knew that by going there, he would be able to meet the only person who would believe that he was alive again.