The Wet Misadventures Of One Miss Tempani Jones : Episode 2

Tempani sat exhaustedly at her desk. She’d already had quite the day and it wasn’t even lunchtime yet.

The orgasms (and they are certainly orgasms…plural) that Tempani experiences are quite intense. Waves of pleasure flow through her, every fibre in her body alive to the heightened state of arousal.

They are not the sort of orgasm one has where they can simply go ‘that was nice’ before popping off to the kitchen to make a cup of tea.

These orgasms exhaust Tempani and as she stared out of her office window at the rain she questioned whether she would have the strength to make it back home.

Despite her post-orgasmic fatigue she had coped remarkably well at the very important meeting. Indeed, the very important client and his entourage seemed pleasantly transfixed as Tempani delivered here presentation with professional aplomb.

The only time she slightly hesitated was when a raindrop still clinging to her damp hair fell. Like a horny harbinger of ecstasy it spied Tempani’s bare hand resting on the large glass conference room table.

This dirty little drop only had only one goal in mind. It could see Tempani’s finger just waiting. Were the lines in the knuckle smiling at it? Teasing it to descend faster, to fulfil its deviant destiny by sensually splashing down on to that smooth skin and bringing with it the mother of all climaxes.

Yet despite what promise this singular speck of satisfaction held it would fail in its true purpose. With Tempani’s skin in sight and pleasure only moments away she moved her hand to gesture at the screen. The raindrop splashed inconsequentially on the glass table.

Tempani turned to glance at the raindrop that lay lifeless on the table, it’s promise of pleasure unfulfilled. It was at that moment her brain decided to add some unhelpful commentary;

“Cor! Imagine what would have happened if that had hit you? Best of luck trying to show exponential growth in a line graph while having a full on orgasm”

This momentarily caused Tempani to lose her focus but she was able to regain her composure and complete the very important meeting without incident or interruption from any more perverted little raindrops.

When the meeting was over she exchanged final pleasantries with the very important client and returned to her office. Following a brief discussion with her assistant where she asked if she wouldn’t mind popping out and buying an umbrella and a new pair of tights, Tempani closed the door and collapsed in her chair thoroughly exhausted.

The company that Tempani worked for occupied the fifth floor of a modern building in Central London. The abundance of glass meant the architect was not a big fan of privacy and any passengers travelling on the train track that ran adjacent to the building would have a clear view of her.

She would often stare out across the impressive London skyline, it helped her focus but on this day her view was distorted by the rain that lashed against the glass.

The rain was heavy and the way it hit the window made Tempani believe that it was trying to break the glass to get to her. The sound of the rain splashing against the glass seemed to hiss ‘We are not finished with you’.

She moved closer to the window and stared at the droplets that formed on the glass with impatient haste. It was probably her exhaustion but Tempani thought the rain reacted to her. The rain found its journey blocked by a transparent obstacle it slipped and slithered across the pane desperate to reach her. Deciding that strength lay in numbers it grouped together forming a larger stream. Tempani dreamily traced their futile attempt with her finger.

She would write about the events of that morning when she got home in her ‘Rain Journal’. It was a book that Tempani had started when she first realised about this condition. The hope behind the journal was that it would provide some answers as to what was happening. Yet over ten years of entries and it was nothing more than an anthology of questions, frustrations and awkward encounters.

Her gift/curse/affliction (Tempani would delete as applicable depending on her mood) first revealed itself shortly after puberty. An unexpected downpour during a hockey game led to a thoroughly embarrassed Tempani, numerous raised eyebrows from her class mates and the strong suggestion to her parents from the ex-Nun head teacher that they should consider an exorcism.

Several other incidents are recorded in this journal before a two page acceptance that the rain does in fact cause orgasms (the word orgasm is underlined and highlighted).

What follows are a number of experiments and theories, some of which have proven to be useful. Perhaps the most notable is that it is just rain that causes this reaction and not water. Baths, showers, swimming pools have no sensual impact upon Tempani at all. However, a record of a day trip to Clacton-On-Sea establishes that the sea is very much a no go area. Tempani then spends a number of unnecessary pages theorising whether this means rivers as well and when she might end up in a river, concluding that this probably applies to lakes also and repeating the process.

In amongst the reminders of rain induced orgasms are pages entitled ‘Practical Tips’. Here Tempani bullets points in a variety of different coloured felt tips steps she could take to mitigate the consequence of coming into contact with rain.

Page 7 for instance is the reason why if you asked anyone who went to her school ‘Do you remember Tempani Jones?’ they would reply without hesitation ‘Oh you mean the girl who came to school wearing a poncho carrying an umbrella’.

A melancholic theme of this journal is the bleak look that a young Tempani has on living with this bizarre gift. An attractive and previously outgoing, happy-go-lucky girl slowly becomes more recluse. It is, should you require a reference, on Page 12 of her journal where she happens upon a semi-permanent solution to her troubles – Not go out.

Whilst she reluctantly accepts that her education requires leaving the house she justifies limiting social interaction with a graph, the accuracy of which may be suspect but one can at least admire the pretty colours she chose to use.

Effectively withdrawing from society has its consequence that Tempani painfully reflects upon. Her parents, still reeling from their daughter’s very public sexual awakening, may have been happy she was not sneaking off to see boys but very disappointed she would feign illness to escape a picnic arranged for Aunt Margaret’s 80th birthday.

Whilst she still maintained a core group of friends she had little desire to extend it, her theory was the less people she interacted with the less chance of witnesses of any storm based sauciness. However, even her closest friends would not often invite her to places citing the reason that they didn’t think she’d want to come, it nonetheless frustrated Tempani that she was deprived the opportunity to say no.

Withdrawn and isolated Tempani found the only suitable distraction was her education and with very little distraction she thrived. University beckoned and with it a set of new challenges.

The move from teenager to womanhood is marked in the journal with a declaration that she must live a normal life. It is a mission statement to herself that she would not hide away any longer. Despite this new found resolve she still maintained some of the usual precautions – avoiding large groups and where possible outdoor activities.

Her commitment to leading a more normal life extended to no longer resisting the advances of those who found her attractive. At school she had dismissed any possibility of having a boyfriend finding the notion to be ridiculous (with or without her affliction) but she could not deny her curiosity and desire to indulge ‘in that sort of thing’ (this is also highlighted and underlined).

Her first experience was with Tom after one boozy night at a local pub. His wish of how he wanted to end that evening was made clear before Tempani had even ordered her first rum and Coke. After a number of drinks they ended back in his room for an evening that Tempani would describe in her journal as ‘absolutely fucking terrible’.

To be fair it would be wrong to simply lay all blame at Tom’s drunken fumblings because as Tempani recognised this disappointing liaison led to a scientific discovery – Only the rain could arouse her.

Masturbation was something that Tempani never really considered doing. Why would she? Why put all that effort in if you could simply stick your head out the window and let the rain give you a mind blowing orgasm.

Despite all her ‘experiments’ Tempani had never tried out manual stimulation. Had she done so she would have quickly realised she felt no arousal whatsoever. Instead, this discovery was left to Tom.

Admittedly his technique of prodding at her like he was entering his PIN number at a cash point was not the most masterful way of doing it but it really wouldn’t have mattered. Tempani could feel nothing. She just lay there trying her best to encourage the increasingly frustrated Tom.

However no amount of rubbing would produce any sign of arousal and the faux deep breathing Tempina did to give the impression she was sexually excited started to make her seem like she was asthmatic.

“What’s a matter with you?” Tom said, the alcohol doing little to help control his emotions.

Tempani abruptly stopped that line of questioning by giving Tom a lack lustre handjob resulting in him unemotionally depositing himself over her belly. At least Tempani could put ‘Semen’ on her list of wet things that don’t cause orgasms.

After this non event Tempani spent perhaps too much time trying to make herself manually have an orgasm. Despite her technique being far more refined than Tom’s the result was the same – nothing, not the slightest hint of arousal.

She even tried sex toys but this just resulted in a one page, double sided rant in her journal that she was fifty pounds down and wasted loads of batteries.

Tempani later theorised that perhaps she was cured but the unfortunate consequence of that cure was that all sexual desire had been removed from her. Although she was only twenty she already felt she had a lifetime of orgasms and probably could live with that.

Her awkward experience with Tom happened as England entered a long spell of dry weather and the glorious sun matched her equally glorious mood. She felt free of this curse and threw herself fully back into life by attending many social events.

It was at an outdoor music festival (a previous no go event for Tempani) that she met Ethan. Their relationship blossomed slowly and whilst there was clear sexual chemistry between them Tempani was in no rush to take things to the next level.

No longer concerned with rain the journal entries changed to her theories on how she could possibly keep a man when he would not be able to sexually please her.

She mused on the possibility that a mix of blowjobs, handjobs and any other jobs she could think of would keep them more than satisfied but the problem would arise when they wished to reciprocate. Even the best lover in the world would not be able to make Tempani the slightest bit aroused and guys seem to take that personally.

Within the journal is a whole essay on the possibility of a platonic relationship. They certainly exist and Tempani was in no doubt that there were plenty of couples enjoying such companionship.

What she didn’t know is how does a relationship become platonic. Even at a young age she knew guys do not approach you in bars and say ‘Fancy coming back to my place for a nice platonic relationship’. How do you even raise it? When is it socially acceptable?

“Darling I just want you to know I am going to suck your cock but other than that our relationship is strictly platonic’.

Despite her insecure scribblings Tempani very much enjoyed the company of Ethan and they began to spend quite a lot of time together. Heavy petting on the sofa would not lead to anything more intimate than awkward silence. Ethan masking his erection wondering how to get her in the bedroom and Tempani wondering if now is the right time to say ‘Hey let’s go platonic’.

Despite the awkwardness they continued to see each other even indulging in such pursuits as jogs around the local park (something that Tempani would have normally avoided and not just because of the rain).

During these jogs there would be impromptu races which would lead to flirtatious attempts to trip each other up. As they lined up to start their next race Tempani kissed Ethan on the cheek and said ‘Catch me if you can.’ They both laughed as he chased her round the park, Tempani took a hard right into the wooded area where Ethan found her resting against a tree.

“You caught me” she said, smiling but clearly out of breath.

“What’s my prize?” Ethan replied advancing towards her.

“Come here and I’ll show you”.

Ethan approached Tempani, placing his hands on her hips and pulling her in close as they started to kiss. Above them storm clouds were forming and light drizzle fell hesitantly from the sky.

The leaves of the tree protected them from rainfall but the hissing sound it made alerted Tempani to its presence.

She looked up at the dark clouds that menacingly filled the sky. Normally she would be feeling a sense of panic at this sight, desperately looking to escape the rain or at the very least find somewhere to privately submit to the pleasure it would bring.

But now she was cured. She had no fear. As Ethan nuzzled at the nape of her neck she smirked at the clouds , a teasing smile to entice a jealous reaction from an ex-lover.

The clouds did react throwing down more rain at the kissing couple, ensuring this time it was harder so the weak barrier of leaves would provide no protection.

Drops landed on Tempani as she nibbled on Ethan’s earlobe. As the rain trickled down her cheek she began to experience something she thought lost forever. Within moments her body began to tingle, her heartbeat quickened and her breathing became shallow.

Tempani pulled Ethan into her, his arousal could be felt poking through his shorts. She grabbed his hand and put in between her legs, the dampness already seeping through her jogging bottoms.

She gripped the band of his shorts and tugged them down releasing his cock which she took in her hand and began to stroke.

“Fucking Hell Temps!” he moaned as he slightly pulled away to look at her.

She stared back at him. Tempani could feel the orgasm beginning to build, it was only a matter of time before she would be experiencing the full force. Drunk with arousal she had the presence of mind to bring Ethan along for this wild ride.

The reality, of course, was she didn’t need him. Nothing he would be doing aided her arousal, the rain had that totally covered.

Pulling down her jogging bottoms while Ethan hastily struggled with putting a condom on she purred impatiently ‘Hurry up and fuck me!’

Tempani did all she could to delay this inevitable orgasm. Ethan had to be inside when it happened otherwise she’d be experiencing the same sexual awkwardness as she did with Tom, albeit at the opposite end of the spectrum.

Tempani stifled a moan of pleasure, keeping it at the back of her throat which she only released as Ethan’s cock slid inside with ease.

Once he had entered her Tempani fully submitted to the pleasure that only the rain could provide. Pressed against the tree she wildly bucked and slammed down on Ethan’s hard cock.

Any intention for Ethan to be involved in this orgasm disappeared, Tempani was lost in the throes of it so much so that Ethan could have quite simply ejaculated followed by doing a few laps of the park and Tempani would not have even known he had gone.

When she later reflected on this liaison in her journal she would be unable to recall whether she felt Ethan’s cock inside her. She would remember from holding it in her hand that it was thick and certainly above average size but whatever it was doing as she welcomed wave after wave of blissful pleasure you would have to ask Ethan.

To be fair Tempani would make a particular point of complimenting Ethan on his athletic prowess. With her fingernails dug firmly in his shoulders and convulsing wildly in his manly grip, she was impressed he managed to stay standing throughout.

At some point when there was a small respite before the rain demanded another orgasm from Tempani, she heard Ethan moan, his buttocks thrust wildly before he nuzzled into her. She presumed this was his orgasm but any weakening of his grip was met by Tempani tightening hers. She hooked her legs round his, gripped his neck and welcomed yet another orgasm.

You see, as Tempani recognised at Page 52 of her journal, the rain controls her pleasure. It decides when it is enough and often it’s desire to cause Tempani pleasure was insatiable.

The final climatic wave dripped through her body, turning every nerve into pressure points of pleasure. Perhaps Ethan was of some use after all, she could feel his fingers on her side that caused her to roar out the final orgasm. Exhausted and spent she gently lowered herself down and rested wearily against the tree.

Despite her lack of concern throughout for Ethan he seemed to have enjoyed this unexpected frolic in the forest as he addressed his assessment to the exhausted Tempani

“Oh wow! Fuck! Wow! What the fuck just happened. Wow!”

Whilst Tempani would have loved to indulge in a debrief with Ethan she needed to get out of the rain and get dry. Another thing she had learned about the rain is she only has a post-orgasm immunity for a short period (Page 13 of the Journal – The Didn’t Towel Dry Your Hair Properly Incident)

“Let’s go” she said smiling before running back to the car as best she could with weak legs so she could get dry.

Tempani knew that after this any suggestion of a platonic relationship was off the table. Throughout her journal she would often reflect on the lessons learned with this liaison.

The first lesson was she could have a sexual relationship with a partner, it just needed to be raining when she did. What follows in the journal are a number of prints out showing the average rainfall in England as well as certain specific cities.

On average it rains 156 days and Tempani reckoned that was more than enough sex per year to keep anyone happy.

A flaw in this plan was that it never rained at a suitable frequency to make this viable. Firstly it can often rain for a full week and she did not know if her body could cope with a week’s worth of the orgasms that the rain provided.

Secondly, England had experienced more lengthier periods of dry weather. Often weather presenters would be eager to reveal a month being the driest ever on record. Whilst this suited Tempani’s health and prevented her just becoming a mess of liquid on the floor it was not great for sustaining a relationship.

For example, the storm that brought such a passionate encounter between Tempani and Ethan was a brief interlude before England was once again basked in hot dry weather.

One can forgive Ethan for wanting to experience as soon as possible what he did in those woods and Tempani could only keep him at bay for so long before a frost formed over their relationship.

This caused Tempani to revert back to the beginning of her journal and opting for a life of withdrawal and isolation.

Tempani often mused in her journal about Ethan and others. Wondering what their sex life is like with others. She questioned whether she is being fair to them. After all, a woman having wild multiple orgasms on their cock may give them a sense of achievement they have not strictly earned.

She imagined Ethan sitting on the edge of the bed, head in hands after some unsatisfying love making

“Seriously love it must be you cos I once had this girl literally explode on my cock”

Yet despite these misgivings Ethan would not be the last to experience Tempani’s rain induced sex sessions. Each one recorded for posterity in her journal with the conclusion ‘I never learn my lesson.’

Tempani broke her hypnotic gaze at the rain that still relentlessly tried to pursue her through the glass. She turned to her desk where her phone was vibrating. She picked it up and saw that Danny had messaged her.

Danny was the latest to show Tempani some affection. They had met a few months earlier at a rather dull conference she was forced to attend. She regretted that the conference took place on a particularly sunny day because a wet session with Danny would have livened things up. Nevertheless they stayed in contact and had been out for some perfectly platonic dates.

Fancy going out tonight the message read.

Tempani looked back out of the window at the storm clouds that showed no sign of relenting. She scrolled through the many Weather apps she had installed which confirmed rain was forecast all night.

Absolutely!!! She replied.

Some time later Tempani Jones would write in her journal that she never learns her lesson.

The Wet Misadventures of One Miss Tempani Jones

There is nothing unusual about a rainy day in London, especially in October.

The pavements full of workers on their way to the office, jostling for position with their tiny black umbrellas, grumpily making way for the one who ploughs through the bustling crowd with his oversized golfing umbrella.

The previous night’s takeaway boxes mangle into paper mache works of art against the side of the pavement. A solitary paper cup not wishing to be part of this impromptu abstract sculpture attempts to escape down the dirty stream, it’s journey disturbed by a black cab ferrying a passenger whose new haircut is worth paying the disproportionate fare to preserve.

The paper cup perseveres in its determination to reach the mystery of the drain it spies in the distance and the promise of a magical journey into the unknown.

In its haste the paper cup becomes entangled with a newspaper but it has little time to dwell on whatever horror is the main headline of the day.

Such is the determination of this adventurous little cup it fails to notice the oncoming bus with its large wipers that dismiss the raindrops with arrogant glee.

Yet fortune is on the side of this intrepid cup as the stream which carries it towards its final destination quickens with the increasing rainfall, pushing it safely past the advancing wheels of the bus. The cup spins to reflect upon this closest of calls as it watches the wheels of the bus brush up against the pavement.

The cup is now mere moments away from completing its journey, the wrought iron finishing line agonisingly close. Suddenly a gust of wind striving to reclaim the attention from the rain in this storm picks up the little cup, lifting it high up into the air. It’s goal that had been so close fades into the distance. Is it a raindrop that drips from the lid as it spins uncontrollably in the air or a tear of a dream unfulfilled?

Quickly bored with its newly found plaything the wind unceremoniously dumps the cup in a nearby alley. There it rests, defeated. It takes one final melancholic roll as it concedes to be forever forgotten. The hopes of what wonders lay beyond that drain disappear as it rests still.

Yet our broken cup was not alone in that alley on that particular morning. Had the cup just found the strength to roll one final time it would have hit a patent leather kitten heel shoe.

That shoe belonged to one Miss Tempani Jones. And she was about to have an orgasm.

Now a woman pleasuring herself down an alley is a relatively rare occurrence, even in London. Rarer still at 8.30 a.m. on a Thursday morning.

To be fair to Tempani she certainly had not intended on being down an alley pleasuring herself. It was not part of her normal morning routine, she was not some kinky exhibitionist getting a quick thrill. Nor was she filming a brief video to later upload to a porn site. This was very much an unplanned masturbatory pitstop on her way to work.

Equally it would be unfair of us to judge the location Tempani had chosen for this impromptu orgasm. We can all sit in moral judgement offering alternatives such as doing it at home before she left or the toilet cubicles at work, to even maybe not doing it at all. But this was all out of her control.

Tempani loved being in control. Her life was dictated by precise routines each specifically designed to ensure she would not find herself leaning up against a wall knuckle deep in her own pussy, especially before she has even been able to buy her usual Espresso Macchiato.

So what events conspired to make poor Tempani have no option but to satisfy herself on that stormy Thursday morning?

The previous evening had been beautifully mundane, the sort of day that isn’t even worth registering as a memory. Yet when Tempani reflects on her unusual start to her Thursday morning she would realise events of the previous day were more malevolent than she had assumed.

Firstly, her very important meeting that was scheduled for 9.30 a.m. with a very important client was moved forward to 8.30 a.m. This did not trouble Tempani who would simply get the earlier train to work. She would not wish to blame this very important client for why she was finger fucking herself in the alley, he was after all very important and this contract would see her with a nice bonus. She did however hope he had his worst performance on the golf course ever.

On her walk home from the train station that Wednesday the strap on her large leather tote bag snapped. Tempani loved this bag, it was just the right size to keep all the items she may require at any given time, including the small umbrella she always ensured she had on her person. You will see the relevance of that umbrella later.

Nevertheless given the stories she had read about how these fashion items are made she certainly would not be looking to blame her awkward Thursday on whatever poor soul made the tote bag.

Her Wednesday evening was spent drinking wine and preparing for her very important meeting. It was the pleading sound of the notification alert on her phone that interrupted her work to demand she upgrades to the latest operating system. Tempani was more than happy for her phone to be busy doing other things so not to disturb her further from her work.

Yet what Tempani did not know is that a minor glitch caused by an error in the code would mean all her alarms would be reset. The consequence of this is that on Thursday Tempani would wake up late. Waking up late was not part of Tempani’s routine and she was more than happy to throw shade at the software engineer in California that caused her to oversleep.

Rather than her relaxed morning routine Tempani found herself on that particular Thursday morning rushing around. There was to be no relaxing shower instead she found herself cleaning her teeth whilst rubbing shampoo in her hair; the hope was this newly discovered method of efficiency would claw back some lost time.

Instead of taking time to pick out her work outfit she instead hurriedly dressed in whatever she could find, laddering two pairs of tights before triumphantly hopping into the third pair without consequence.

There would be no time to sit and have that first cup of coffee in the morning while she watched the news, paying particular attention to the weather report. Instead she quickly grabbed her replacement bag, a smaller black handbag, rushing to check the contents before slipping on her heels and hurrying out the flat.

As she hurriedly clipped-clopped in comedic fashion towards the train station her focus was more on not breaking an ankle than the clouds that begun to form in the sky.

While waiting on the platform Tempani was more absorbed with telling her assistant on the phone all what she had to do than to the clouds that had now begun to turn sinisterly dark.

It was when she only a few stops away from Charing Cross that she happened to look up from her phone and see the first drops of rain hit the dirty train window.

Calmly, Tempani reached for her handbag to seek the reassurance she had her umbrella. Her relaxed searched became more and more frantic as the realisation dawned on her that her umbrella was still very much at home, housed as it always was inside her now broken tote bag. Yet even after it became obvious she did not possess an umbrella she continued the futile search, even rifling through the most smallest of pockets in the hope she might find it there.

Don’t panic Tempani it may just be a little drizzle she told herself. A rumble of thunder seemed to answer her back “Fuck you! I’m more than that”.

As the train slowly pulled into Charing Cross she hesitantly stood up. Her gaze was drawn to the gentleman who had been sitting opposite her who was in possession of an umbrella.

“Excuse me? I don’t suppose I could borrow your umbrella” she asked, ensuring she fluttered her eyelids as she pleaded to his chivalrous nature.

The gentleman just looked at her in absolute disgust before leaving the train (Tempani would later wish this gentleman experienced a disappointing sexual encounter for his refusal to give up his umbrella). She slowly followed the other commuters down the platform and onto the concourse.

There are a number of shops located within Charing Cross station purporting to cater for the needs of the weary worker, yet on this particular day not one had any umbrellas for sale.

Tempani stood in the archway and looked out on to The Strand. Normally there would be plenty of taxis waiting but the weather had meant these were in high demand. She opted to wait for either a taxi to come to her rescue or for there to be a miraculous break in the weather.

She pulled her phone out of her pocket and noted the time. 8.15 a.m. It would take her at least ten minutes walk to get to work. She decided to wait a little longer, hopping on either foot in impatience.

Each minute that passed was agonising. She couldn’t be late for this very important meeting. Every time she checked her phone her brain would offer up an image of the very important client walking out of the office with his golf clubs in tow. Or her Boss disapprovingly shaking his head as she walked through the entrance before making her do the walk of shame to clear out her office.

Fuck it. Tempani decided she could wait no longer. Pulling the sleeve of her jacket over her hand she grabbed a free newspaper, held it over her head and made a run for it.

Now you may be wondering what Tempani’s deal is with rain. After all unless you happen to be the Wicked Witch of the West it really can’t hurt you. Indeed, the rain didn’t hurt Tempani – on the contrary, it made her horny.

When we say horny we are not talking just a little frisky. Whilst the mere presence of rain does heighten her senses it’s more what happens when one single raindrop touches her skin. Should that happen Tempani experiences waves of pleasure. The more rain that hits her the more intense the pleasure is. It’s like each raindrop is a mini vibrator specifically designed to create the most arousal possible.

So when Tempani decided to rush out into the rain with just a newspaper as protection she was not risking bodily harm, she was risking having a full blown orgasm in the middle of London during rush hour.

To be fair to Tempani she made a good effort of avoiding the rain. Perhaps she may have even been able to make it without incident were it not for the driver of the Audi (someone who she blamed unreservedly for the events of that Thursday morning) who decided driving at speed through a puddle was an appropriate way to confirm his masculinity.

In her attempt to dodge the mini tsunami she dropped the newspaper that had been protecting her exposing her forehead to the arousal inducing raindrops.

Tempani was able to quickly duck into a doorway for cover but she knew by now that it only took one raindrop to bring on the feelings of intense arousal. She could feel her nipples harden underneath her bra. Between her legs began to mimic the dampness of her forehead.

She couldn’t stay there in the doorway and allow the rain to do it’s thing. Not only were customers coming in and out of the shop and might say something about the smartly dressed woman having a loud orgasm but time was running out for her to get to the very important meeting.

Stifling a moan of pleasure she yanked her jacket over the head and continued her journey to work. The jacket was tight over her head making it difficult to see, plus the occasional pang of pleasure would make her legs suddenly go weak and with it an instinctive groan of arousal would follow.

To the passer by it would have looked as if Tempani was on her way to audition for the lead role in some porn parody of a horror movie. Eventually she made it to her office which was an attractive glass fronted building her firm shared with a number of other companies.

Now something else you need to know about Tempani’s ‘gift’ is that the pleasure she experiences will not subside until she has had a complete orgasm. Many times previously she has rushed indoors after getting caught in the rain, although drying herself manically with a towel did little to prevent her experiencing the complete climax.

Fortunately for Tempani there is a small alley which separates her more modern place of work with one of London’s many Victorian buildings. Avoiding meeting any work colleagues she rushed into the alley and no longer fought off the pleasure the rain was determined to bring.

Now you will recall when we first met Tempani in this alley her fingers were deep inside her. It is a legitimate question to ask why, if the rain does all the work, would she be needing to put in any effort of her own.

Well, she entered the alley at precisely 8.30 a.m. when her very important meeting was due to start. Even in the throes of pleasure Tempani had the presence of mind to believe that a bit of manual assistance would bring about this disruptive orgasm quicker.

Had she not done so and put her very important meeting ahead of her very real pleasure then she would have been in the midst of a complete and blissful orgasm before she even got to third slide of her PowerPoint presentation. She feared shouting at the very important client “Oh fuck! Yes! More” may come across as a tad over enthusiastic.

Within a few moments and with the assistance of her fingers Tempani welcomed the much needed orgasm. As this was an orgasm borne more out of necessity than want she was not willing to indulge in the full pleasure experience.

No sooner had she felt that wave of intense pleasure flow through her body and her vagina begin to contract as if it was trying to applaud happily, she was pulling up her tights and adjusting her skirt before running round to the entrance of the building.

Waiting in the foyer was her assistant who took one look at Tempani and asked “Did you get caught in the rain?”

“Yeh a little” replied Tempani, still experiencing the final throes of her orgasm.

“Anyway. The meeting is about to start” said her assistant moving towards where the lifts were located.

Tempani took a moment to collect her thoughts and ensure all the rain induced pleasure was firmly out of her system.

“You coming?” asked the assistant.

“Yeh I am.” replied Tempani “Just give me one more moment.”

Thrusting: Proposals & Disposals

I watched The Blue King disappear in the rear view mirror as my apparent saviour drove at speed down Old Street.

An uncomfortable silence filled the car. This mysterious man clearly wanted to say something to me and I had plenty of questions for him, such as

“Who are you?”

“Not important right now” he replied without disturbing his attention on the road.

“Okay. Where we are going?”

“Also not important” he said bluntly “Just relax you’re safe now.”

His tone was far from reassuring but I persisted in ensuring I got all my questions in at this early stage.

“Are you taking me home?”

He sighed “You shouldn’t go home” .

He added nothing more which led me to contemplate whether I had made the right decision getting into his car.

I gazed out the window and into the murkiness of the night. There was little illumination and what there was offered only a fleeting glimpse of revellers making their way home or seeking out a place to get another drink; I doubted The Blue King would be open to cater for that final indulgence.

I asked no more questions of my saviour and instead just stared into dark nothingness as I tried to process the events of the night. Did Mr Karpinsky die? Did I kill him? Will I still get paid my wages, rent was due after all. I shuddered at the thought of my Landlord’s alternative means of payment.

Lost in thought I had not realised that we had travelled all the way into central London. The car came to a gentle stop outside a grandiose building; the gloom of the night made it difficult to witness it in all its gothic splendour.

The mystery man, who still hadn’t told me his name, exited the car, took the time to do up the button of his impeccably tailored suit before walking briskly round to my side and opened the door. He offered his hand which I nervously took as he gently escorted me out the vehicle.

I followed him up a few stone steps to an imposing set of double wooden doors. He used the large wrought iron door knocker, one crashing knock seemed to cause the door to open magically.

As the door slowly opened I was presented with a long hallway, a regal red carpet stretched as far as I could see. Paintings of old men sporting different moustaches looked down at me, each with their own expression of disapproval that a woman dare walk these halls. Not just any woman, a working class girl of all things; as I walked further down the hall I half expected the paintings to shake and fall off with unrepentant fury.

Despite the unwelcoming interior I felt comfortable. The cold silence in the car had left me wondering if my apparent saviour had more sinister intentions. However seeing the splendour of this place made me realise he wouldn’t kill me here. No way would they allow the blood of a girl from the East End to stain these expensive carpets.

We turned right into a large room, red leather chairs were neatly positioned around large circular wooden tables, much more lavish than the ones in The Blue King.

Some of the chairs were occupied, all were men and all were dressed in tailored suits. An elderly gentleman was asleep in one chair, his drink precariously balanced in his hand.

Some acknowledged my saviour as he walked in with a nod of recognition which he politely returned. None acknowledged my presence; they chose not to see me although I had no doubt they were mentally drafting a letter to the management regarding that time they let a common woman into this place.

My mysterious companion escorted me to the far corner where he gestured for me to sit in one of the large leather seats. Catching the objecting glance of one of the older patrons I gently lowered myself into the seat, my hands sliding across the silky leather armrests. I half smiled wishing my family could see me in a place of such extravagance.

‘Look at our little Molly in such a posh place’ my Nan would have said before running to tell the neighbours. But the smile quickly faded as I reminded myself of the circumstances that led me here.

Lost in that daydream I hadn’t noticed that a man had approached our table, although he was quickly dismissed by my companion with an order of two scotches.

While waiting for the drinks he cocked his head to one side and looked me up and down, the awkwardness of this compounded by the realisation of how short my skirt was. I instinctively made the futile attempt to lower it below my thighs.

The silence was broken by the sound of two glasses of scotch being placed on the table. I picked up the glass and without any care that it’s content probably cost more than what I earned in a month at The Blue King swigged the whole thing down.

My companion smirked and ordered a replacement with a wave of his hand.

“Well you’ve had quite the evening, haven’t you Miss Jones” he said

Wiping the remnants of scotch from my lips with the back of my hand I replied “Is he dead?”

“Mr Karpinsky? Oh he is dead for sure”

“Did I kill him?” I asked

My companion smiled, “Intentionally? No. Seems Mr Karpinsky’s heart couldn’t take the thrill of being in your company Miss Jones”

I grabbed the glass from the table and holding it with both hands rested it on my lap. I watched as the amber liquid swirled in the expensive cut glass. With my head bowed I meekly said “So I’m not in trouble?”

“Oh you’re in big trouble Miss Jones”

I lifted my head up, the tears forming in my eyes were met with the outstretched hand of my companion, maybe partly to calm me down or perhaps this place had rules against ‘women making a scene’.

“You see Mr Karpinsky is not a nice man” he continued “His associates are not the sort that would be sitting around prepared to wait for the results of an autopsy that would show he died of natural causes. No, they’d be determined to find the young woman who ran away”.

“I was scared. I panicked”

“That may very well be the case but the associates of Mr Karpinsky aren’t the sort to listen”

I took a swig of my drink, the taste of the alcohol an antidote to the tears I was trying to fight back. “Why am I here?” I asked

“I told you Miss Jones. I can help you. I can keep you safe.”

“How?” Given that my companion was now in a talkative mood I wanted to get a response to all my unanswered questions I had raised in the car.

He didn’t respond quickly, instead he took a sip of his drink allowing the alcohol to swirl round his mouth before speaking.

“Come work for me.” he finally said, smiling.

“Why? Do you need a singer?” I asked.

“Something like that.” He paused to take another sip of his scotch before continuing “You ever hear of a band called The Konrads?”

“No. Should I have?”

“No Miss Jones and that is the point”

“Wait. You’re a manager of crap bands no one has ever heard of.” I said laughing “Cos I already have that gig with the worse manager you can think of”

“You really think you can return to Jimmy and The Blue King?” he said raising an eyebrow.

The boldness of my earlier statement quickly faded as I was quickly reminded that I was apparently being hunted by the associates of Mr Karpinsky and the fear returned.

“But how does being in your band keep me safe?” I asked.

“The other people in the band are a very special bunch. They will keep you safe.”

He looked at me but all he was met with was my vacant expression. If he thought I was following what he was talking about then he was very much mistaken. Regardless of me not understanding what was going on he continued.

“What are you? Nineteen? Twenty? Certainly born after the war. You, like many of the population, believe the war is over. We live in peaceful times. But the war was never over. It merely evolved”

Still vacant.

“Those who would seek power realised there are other ways of achieving it besides guns and soldiers. And for years they have been working in the shadows attempting to take control without anyone noticing”

Still vacant.

“And those of us who would seek to stop them have to also work in these shadows. Secrecy is their weapon of choice. Information the silver bullet of success.”

I took a large swig of my drink hoping to mask the fact I had no clue what he was talking about. My only thought at that time was if this was to be a long story I may get another drink out of it.

“Miss Jones I work for the British Government. The others in this room all play a role in the national security of this country”

I spied the old man snoring away in the chair and my confidence of how secure the country might be quickly dropped.

“The Konrads were an early project of mine to pass on information to our allies without it falling into enemies hands. It was based on earlier work done by my mentor during the war. He devised a way of sending messages encoded within songs. To innocent ears they were just morale boosting songs about meeting again or blue birds over Dover, yet to those behind enemy lines they contained vital information”

“Wait?!” I interrupted “You saying Vera Lynn was a Secret Agent?”

“Something like that. I tried to emulate the same principle with The Konrads but it did not have the same effect. Something was missing. Then I realised in these times you not only needed to pass on information but gather information. And this brings me to you.”

I drained my glass but this time my companion was not quick to offer me a refill “Me? What about me? And should you be telling me all this. I might be an agent for whoever it is we are supposedly at war with. I mean you’re a pretty shit spy if you’re just randomly blurting all this out.”

He smiled “I have done my homework Miss Jones. I know all about you….and your Father. Sorry about what happened to him by the way”

I brushed away any concern I ought to have had that he knew everything about me and concentrated on why he thought I was so special.

“Why me?” I asked.

“Mr Karpinsky was quite a private man. Paranoid as well. Never let his security leave his side. He had good reason to be worried, there were many people after him. I certainly could not get anywhere close to him. Yet tonight he forgot all that just to be with you. So that’s why.”

I stared at my empty glass desperate for alcohol to aid me with processing all this information.

“So you want me to sing coded messages and shag enemies to death?”

He laughed, loud enough to disturb the old guy from his slumber “Miss Jones what happened to Mr Karpinsky was a freak coincidence. However I certainly could use a woman of your talents.”

Part of me doubted there was any truth to what he was telling me. Many guys had lied about who they were to try and sleep with me. James Bond was all the rage and for all I knew this was just some posh bloke indulging in some pretend Secret Agent seduction.

“And if I refuse?” I asked.

He shrugged and finished drink, although to my disappointment did not seek to get another round.

“Then Miss Jones I will simply take you home.” He paused, scanning the room before continuing “Of course what happens to you after that will neither be my responsibility or concern. Maybe Mr Karpinsky’s men will already be waiting for you. That might come tomorrow or the day after but eventually they will find you. And as for The Blue King I doubt that place will ever open again.”

For some reason I didn’t want him to think I was scared even though my heart was pounding and my mind chaotically tried to process the events of that night which had spiralled drastically out of control the moment I stepped off the stage at The Blue King.

This attempt to stay strong was betrayed by me looking away from him and down at my lap muttering to myself “You should have turned left Molly.”

“Sorry Miss Jones?” He said, leaning forward to try and catch my eye “What do you wish to do?”

My head roared in confusion. I wanted to ask more questions but it was clear whoever this mysterious man was he had run out of patience with me.

I still was unsure that he was telling the truth. I may be perfectly safe, that no one was after me and after a grovelling apology to Jimmy I could go back to my job at The Blue King.

The guy in front of me maybe well connected but he could also be an absolute psycho trapping me in a lie for his own nefarious reasons. Secret agents didn’t go round telling strangers they were secret agents. Did they?

I dug my nails into the arms of the leather chair. My instinct was to run, that’s always been my instinct. Just run as far away as I could. But I would eventually have to stop running and if he was right they’d catch up with me.

At that moment the only certainty was the uncertainty of whatever choice I made. What I desired then was simply control, to manage my own destiny; but when your life is swirling around in a chaotic mess control and clarity come in very short supply.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Time to make your choice Molly. I lifted my head and stared him straight in the eye.

“So Miss Jones, what are you going to do?” he asked again.

Exhaling I replied “Get us another drink and I’ll tell you.”

Thrusting : One Night In February

The Blue King Club was situated along Old Street in the East End of a London. It was an unassuming place housed above a row of Georgian shops.

It was one of London’s best kept secrets during the sixties. It was not as exuberant as its West End neighbours, there was nothing about the exterior that was welcoming, let alone to let you know it was in fact a nightclub.

To the unassuming passer by they would just assume they were walking past a Haberdashers and an Asian restaurant. Yet sandwiched between the two was a brown door.

A knock on that door and Fred, adorned in his favourite flat cap and nursing an old shrapnel wound in his leg, would open it inviting you up the cramped staircase.

Once you had ascended the creaky bare wooden stairs, a sharp right would take you through a beaded curtain and into the main area of The Blue King.

First timers were always surprised having travelled up the most narrowest of staircases how large the club actually was. It filled the top floor of both the Haberdashers and Asian restaurant that neighboured below.

Immediately to your left was the bar area made of mahogany with the occasional stool dotted around it for the casual patron just popping in for a quick fix.

Along the wood panelled sides was a small corridor that led to the less than luxurious restrooms. The Male cubicle often occupied by a patron who has seen too much of the show that the girls put on.

When not out on show the girls would be housed in a tiny changing room towards the back of the club. It was no bigger than a broom cupboard where they would scramble for any available space to change into a variety of lingerie.

On the opposite side behind a thick wooden door was a larger room. Inside a huge desk dominated the middle with a larger leather chair behind. This was the office of Jimmy Calvin, the owner of The Blue King.

In essence Jimmy was just a petty criminal with unrealistic dreams of being a big time gangster. His office was adorned with photos of all the celebrities, sports stars and those higher up the echelons of the underworld he had met.

Despite Jimmy’s lofty ambitions he knew his place in the hierarchy. He was small fry, a loner who could only be relied upon for the odd job. He was rarely trusted with anything important.

He acquired The Blue King after he took the blame for some crime carried out by someone in The Kray’s firm. ‘A little favour for Reggie’ is all he used to say about it. Five years inside and he emerges as the proprietor of his very own nightclub.

The larger Firms were wary of Jimmy simply for the fact that unchecked ambition can lead to negligence. For his part, Jimmy was largely content with his little slice of the London underworld. He ruled The Blue King and this kept him from doing anything stupid

Every night he would emerge from his office, dressed in a tuxedo, his cummerbund straining at the expanse of his belly. His hair was always slicked back with a middle parting. His rosy cheeks would flush, smiling as he observed his kingdom; dramatically lighting a cigar to emphasise you were on his turf. He had beady little eyes and an upturned nose, which the girls thought made him resemble a pig; Piggy Calvin is what they would giggle after he had done his obligatory tour of their dressing room.

He’d then move to the centre of the club amongst the tiny circular tables covered in red velvet tablecloth, a small green lamp provided limited illumination. Here is where the more important guests would sit and those who Jimmy wished to impress the most.

Should they require a favour from him they would engage in conversation, otherwise there would be some brief pleasantries before Jimmy moved to edge of the bar and sat observing the Kingdom he ruled.

Although his resemblance to a pig was clear I often felt he was an owl. I would catch sight of him from where I was on the stage.

I could see Jimmy craning his neck and observing all those who walked in. He wanted to be noticed. He wanted to be somebody. I, on the other hand remained content to be unnoticed. In this place it was good to be nobody.

I begun working at The Blue King when I was sixteen in the cloakroom. Jimmy gave me the job as a favour to my Dad who wanted me out of his hair. Even though the relationship between Jimmy and my Dad soured I stayed on at the club, working my way up to selling cigarettes, followed by a brief stint behind the bar to eventually being the resident club singer.

The latter occurred by accident when the normal singer failed to show, Jimmy approached me and asked if I could sing. My vague response of ‘a little bit’ was enough to secure me the position.

Jimmy didn’t care about a singer. No one turned up to hear me sing a few Alma Colgan numbers. They were there to ogle at the girls while finalising some shady deals.

The girls paraded on stage as the less refined men at the back of the club whooped and cheered getting their quick arousing fix. Those at the tables would sit in quiet contemplation, studying the girls, choosing which one would provide company later on. A quick word with Jimmy and he’d ensure that the girl of their choice would provide a suitably entertaining climax to the evening.

I was never ‘chosen’ and that suited me fine. I could live with the shouts of ‘take your top off’ as I sung, the awkward silence as I finished and walked to the bar. It never bothered me. Sing, have a drink, get my money, go home. It was a simple uncomplicated life.

Yet on that one night in February my life got incredibly complicated.

I had just finished singing Sugartime to the echo of horny silence and with a happy shrug left the stage to get myself a drink, a straight whiskey which I would swallow in one before meeting Jimmy at the end of the bar to get my wages, then it was down the stairs, a cheery goodbye to Fred and home.

Every now and then a few men would try it on but my demeanour quickly told them I was not interested. Besides I only had to ignore them for five minutes and then then voluptuous Scarlet would be on the stage and I would no longer be in their thoughts.

I would like to think I was attractive enough to justify the attention of the men who frequented the club. But they came here with a certain expectation. They could take what they wanted. If there was the slightest bit of effort involved in they would quickly lose interest.

Therefore I was not totally surprised when a guy approached me. He was tall, completely bald, sunken cheeks and pinhole dark eyes. His smart dressed indicated he was one of Jimmy’s preferred guests.

“Mr Karpinsky would like you to join him” he said he a deep Eastern European accent

“Who’s Mr Karpinsky” I replied.

He pointed over to the furthest table and there sat a overweight man with a heavy black beard, his beady eyes staring over at us.

I wanted to say no but I caught the gaze of Jimmy who was watching. He gestured with his eyes that I was to comply with the request to join Mr Karpinsky .

“Fine” I reluctantly said, grabbing my drink and following the tall man to the table.

I sat down in the vacant chair next to the demanding Mr Karpinsky, who moved closer towards me.  A combination of cigar smoke, alcohol and body odour filled my nostrils as his large frame pressed against me.

“You sing like an angel” he said, his voice had the same eastern European accent as his colleague although slightly higher pitched which surprised me given his size.

He placed his thick hand on my thigh as he continued “You look like an angel”.

It was clear by the way his stubby fingers worked their way up my dress what his intentions were. There was no attractive quality about him. I had no desire to fulfil whatever grubby plan he had in mind. I could see Jimmy watching owl like from his perch at the bar.

A gentleman would intervene, see my vacant expression and offer sanctuary to the women being manhandled. But not Jimmy. To Jimmy we were all his property and he was happy to loan us out to the right sort of people. In his club the girls were bargaining chips and commodity he could trade.

As Mr Karpinsky’s fingers continued their journey all I could think about was grabbing the bottle of champagne and smashing it over his large flabby head. But I knew if I did that I would not have a job to return to. Besides, I was unsure how Mr Karpinsky’s colleague would react to me bludgeoning his fat friend to death with a bottle of the cheap shit that Jimmy pretended was high quality champagne.

It was difficult to think with Mr Karpinsky’s wandering hands.   I needed to formulate a plan on how I could get out of this with preferably my job and dignity intact.  I excused myself politely and walked towards the restrooms.  Jimmy’s steely gaze following me on my journey.

I paused in the narrow corridor just outside the entrance to the Ladies. I breathed deeply, the smell of the toilets a strange welcome relief to the putrid odour of Mr Karpinsky. Suddenly I felt someone nudge into me.

“Oh I am terribly sorry” said the man responsible.  He was impeccably dressed in a three piece suit, his hair was jet black, dazzling blue eyes and although he must have been in his forties was very attractive.  I did not reply, part of me wanted him to try something on with me.  Rescue me from the clumsy fondling of Mr Karpinsky but he just smiled and disappeared into the Gents toilet.

I opened the door to the Ladies and splashed water on my face. I contemplated how long I could conceivably stay in here. Perhaps the likes of Scarlet or Divine would distract him enough that he would soon forget about me and I could just go home without his hand taking that any further lumbering steps up my dress.

I heard the low hum of the music indicating that Scarlet was just about to start her show. I dried my face and left the toilets. As you exit, to the left at the far end is a door which lead to a fire escape and into the alleyway adjacent to the club. The girls call it their Escape Plan if things ever got too much. All I had to do was turn left and I would be free, keep out of Jimmy’s way until he calmed down and then back to work like nothing ever happened.

“I hope you ain’t thinking of leaving Mr Karpinsky on his own.  He’d be most disappointed”

I turned to see Jimmy leaning up against the wall.

“Look Jimmy….this is more what the girls do.  I am just here to sing” I would have continued my pleading but the look in Jimmy’s eyes clearly told me it was futile.

“The girls work for me. You work for me. It’s important we keep our guests…..entertained” he instinctively licked his lips as a he said the last word.

Moving closer to me he continued “Your rent is due at the end of the week, ain’t it? Be a shame if you didn’t have the money to pay him. I hear your landlord will expect something in return if you can’t pay up”.

“Jimmy….please…”

He cut me off by putting a finger to his lips and making an irritating shushing sound “Now Mr Karpinsky requires a little alone time with you, so you’ll find him in my office.  I suggest you hurry up now”

A brief thought of punching Jimmy’s arrogant face and running out the fire escape crossed my mind but it would only be a momentary win. Jimmy was not the sort that would take such impertinence lightly, he would see it as a betrayal, a declaration of war. I couldn’t fight him on my own and I had no-one to help me.

Maybe a few years ago things would have been different. The mere mention of my Dad would have stopped Jimmy from ever making such demands but those days were over. I was alone. Jimmy controlled me and I saw no option but to agree to his demands.

I submissively walked back into the club and across the floor, passing Scarlet who was in the process of removing her bra to the enthusiastic cheers of the audience. I caught her eye as I passed, I thought I saw sympathy in her expression. I had seen her many times go into Jimmy’s office, she knew what I would experience behind that door.

The brief journey to the office seemed to take forever, the music and the cheers a vacant echo in my mind. I felt like a prisoner on death row taking their final walk. I was in a daze and only alerted to the fact that I had reached the door when the handle pushed against me.

I took one final futile look around the club, a desperate glance to see if that suave Gentleman was about to rescue me but all I could see was Jimmy back on his perch watching me.  I turned the handle, opened the door and accepted my fate.

When I entered it was clear that Mr Karpinsky had not intention of just wanting me to sing for him. There was to be no romance or companionship. He was in the process of unbuckling his trousers when he said

“Ahhh there’s my angel”

His trousers dropped to the ground exposing his chubby hairy legs. His underpants quickly followed, a tiny penis emerged from the two overhanging flaps of fat which in any other circumstance would have made me laugh at the thought of a tortoise poking its head out to eat some lettuce.

I stood there not moving, still clinging to the hope that someone would barge through the door and end this bizarre and unwanted coupling. 

“Don’t be shy” he said “I won’t bite…..It won’t bite.” He grabbed my hand and placed it on his penis, he let out a satisfied moan as his hand encouraged mine to stroke him.  

His idea of foreplay was simply to lift up my dress, pull down my tights and bend me over Jimmy’s desk. I felt nothing; whilst that could apply to the vacancy of my thoughts at the point it could equally apply to the fact that I actually felt nothing.

The only indication that he may have been having sex with me was the feel of his large flabby frame pressed against me and comically emphasised grunting.

That’s all I can really remember, his weight getting heavier and heavier on my back, his foul odour filling the room. I was suffocating. Literally suffocating. I just wanted to throw up. Then it stopped. He didn’t cry out in orgasmic pleasure, I felt nothing to indicate he had climaxed, he just lay on top of me.

It seemed like an eternity that I was under him. His full weight trapping me on the table. Then I noticed…. he wasn’t breathing. The possibility there may be a dead guy inside of me was encouragement enough to slide myself from underneath him. It was not an easy task and the momentum caused him to rock back before slamming face first on to the edge of the desk as I prised myself out.

He landed in a heap on the floor, one of Jimmy’s ornaments had fallen off the table and lay by Mr Karpinsky’s lifeless body.  My initial thought was simply ‘Jimmy’s not going to like this’.

I contemplated moving the body, but aside from the difficulty I had getting the lumbering mass off me I did not know what good that would do.  There was only one way in and out of the office so I couldn’t just say that Mr Karpinsky had popped out to get some cigarettes.

Maybe I could just go speak with Jimmy and explain what had happened, but he was not the most understanding person at the best of times. Besides, the bruise that formed on the side of Mr Karpinsky’s temple meant that ‘He simply died’ would be treated with some suspicion.

My only option was to run. I quickly rearranged my clothes, wiped the tears that formed in my eyes, opened the door and just ran across the club. Jimmy, in his curious owl like way, noticed me running but by the time he had hopped off his perch I was down the corridor and through the fire escape.

I took the rickety staircase two steps at a time fearing at any moment that either Jimmy or Mr Karpinsky’s lanky colleague would catch me. The fact that I had fled meant that I had abandoned any chance It was settled – I had killed Mr Karpinsky.

Tears spilled from eyes as I breathlessly made my way down the staircase.  I cursed myself – You should have just turned left when you had the chance.

I tried to put aside any thought of what might become of me.  My only goal at that moment was to get far away from The Blue King as possible.  I would figure everything else out when I was safe….if I ever could be safe.

I jumped the last few steps and sprinted down the alleyway.  My chest cried out in agony as I pushed myself to run as fast as I could.  As I neared where the alleyway opens onto Old Street a car pulled across the entrance.

They’ve already found me.

I stopped. Breathing deeply, I looked back into the gloom of the alleyway and thought I could hear footsteps coming up after me. I was trapped. There was nothing more I could do than hope they would listen to reason.

The car window routrolled down. It was not Mr Karpinsky’s colleague but the attractive gentleman who had bumped into me.

“You’re in danger” he shouted to me “But I can help you.  Get in.”

He opened the passenger door. Whilst I avoided getting into stranger’s cars I had little choice. With the sound of footsteps getting louder in the alley I ran round to the passenger side of the car and hopped in.

Little did I know this would be the final car journey that Molly Jones would make.

Super Sentient Sex Dolls From Saturn : Part Six

So we arrive at Part Six having completed Part One , Part Two, Part Three, Part Four and Part Five. Say what you’re like about this series but at least we are doing this in order.

Quick recap – I have seamlessly and without any fundamental plot holes whatsoever been able to legitimately establish the existence of the Sentient Sex Dolls, put them on Saturn and convincingly return them to Earth.

Anyone still paying attention to this will recall that Gina may not have been the only sex doll who returned from Saturn. So this part introduces the remaining sex dolls – the Version Deltas (or VDs for short).

There are four VDs left and we are introduced to them outside a biker’s bar on the outskirts of town. Because whatever town you live in there is always a convenient bar filled with bikers.

Now as you will have immediately appreciated from reading the previous five parts I do extensive research to ensure authenticity.

So we have four naked sentient sex dolls walking into a seedy out of town bar frequented by bikers. As they walk in the bar goes silent. Two bikers playing chess look up. Another biker sitting by the fireplace reading Voltaire takes of his glasses and looks towards the entrance. A group of bikers practicing the cha cha slide turn off the music and study the new arrivals.

One of the bikers approach the quartet of sentient sex dolls “Well well well. What do we have here?” he asks “Some pretty ladies just walking into our bar. And as naked as the day they were born. You know what this means guys?”

The bar erupts with whooping and cheering, although some choose to politely clap. The biker continues “That’s right! We have enough people to make up our Twister Tournament”

As further cheers erupt it is made clear that these sentient sex dolls are not in the mood to play Twister. Indeed, to fully emphasise their hatred of any party board games one grabs the wrist of the biker and twists it hard. He screams out in agony and another biker rushes over;

“Hey stop that. He’s our best hope for the Inter-Biker Table Tennis tournament later this week”

The sentient sex doll looks at him and says “I need your clothes, your boots and your motorcycle”

“Really?” Says the Biker “Cos I am a little overweight and my clothes would just hang off you. No you need to be taking Slim’s clothes over there”

The Sentient Sex Doll walks over to Slim and snaps his neck and begins to remove his clothes.

“Wait!” says the Biker “He may be slim but he has big feet. His boots won’t fit you. What are you? Size 5? Size 6?. You need Dainty Pete’s boots.”

Snap

“Looking good now we need to accessorise. Gruff Stu’s belt would really accentuate those hips”

Snap

“Now I am thinking a leather jacket to really finish this look off. Mad Matt has the best”

Snap

“Beautiful. The blood splatter really does emphasise that glowing eye. When I saw you walk into this bar I saw vulnerability. But now I see you blossom into the woman I know you can be…”

Snap

In his dying breath the biker hands his keys to the sentient sex doll. “Be careful the throttle sticks a little”

As we watch the now fully clothed sentient sex dolls ride off on motorcycles we cut back to the strange laboratory as unnamed menacing man is given an update by generic underling.

“Sir four of them are on the move”

The menacing man replies “Good. They will come here. That’s in their programming.” He pauses menacingly, the silence confirming how menacing he is “But there needs to be all five. Find me the other one”

Before we leave this part a quick check in with Spencer. Realising he will struggle to keep Gina hidden from his Mother he decides to introduce her as a Foreign Exchange Student.

So Spencer’s mother unknowingly meets the sex doll that her late husband was screwing just before he died.

Spencer’s Mother: Very pleased to meet you Gina

Gina: You never liked to swallow

Spencer’s Mother: Excuse me?

Spencer: Nothing . She’s French

Spencer quickly ushers Gina upstairs and begins to lecture her on not mentioning having sex with his Dad when he is interrupted by Paul calling him. Paul is in an agitated state.

Paul: Spencer I’ve been watching the videos of Gina with your Dad.

Spencer: That’s gross. What is wrong with you?

Paul: You need to see something

Spencer: Paul I’m not interested in watching my Dad have sex with a sex doll

Paul: No you don’t understand. He didn’t die coz of the crash. He was already dead.

Spencer: What? How?

Paul: It was Gina. Gina killed him

Spencer turns to look at Gina who is sitting on the bed. Her eye glowing a deep red.

To be continued

Tell Me You Love Me – The Opening

Recently I pitched a TV series called Ghosts Annoy Her. Since writing it has somewhat evolved.

Provisionally it’s now called Tell Me You Love Me and remains a supernatural tale with the main character being a girl in her mid 20s (although someone in their 30s who can still so pass for 25 will still work).

Unlike my previous ‘pitches’ I just thought I would draft out a few scenes that keep playing around in my head. You know out of my head and into yours.

The opening scene is a seemingly romantic one. Our MC and some gorgeous guy walking hand in hand in the park, followed by a romantic meal and then a glass of wine on a sofa.

He leans in to kiss her and she reciprocates and with their lips almost touching he whispers ‘I love you’. She recoils slightly, a momentary look and then a smile appears as behind the guy a dark mist forms.

It swirls round him, briefly taking a human form before smothering the guy and when the mist disperses the guy lays still, ashen…the life drained from him. The mist disappears.

Our MC stares at his lifeless body, running a thumb over her lips he was just kissing before getting up. It is clear they were in the guy’s apartment and she starts taking cash, jewellery and his mobile before exiting the apartment.

After the open credits we experience a brief dream of the MC. She is standing next to a tree while a guy gets on his knee looking like he is getting ready to propose. We see no more of this dream as in true cinematic style she sits bolt up right, breathing heavy.

We follow her to the kitchen. Her flat is the polar opposite to the lavish apartment we first saw her in. It’s small, grubby and untidy.

She pours herself a coffee and turns on a tiny television. Emptying her bag on to the kitchen side, separating the money and jewellery into three piles. She puts two piles in separate bags and turns her attention to the phone.

As she thumbs through the photos of her and the now deceased gentleman a news report plays in the background;

And the city was rocked today by news that Millionaire Peter Connors was found dead in his apartment this morning. Initial reports suggest natural causes and no foul play is suspected. Whilst a successful businessman Mr Connors had recently been dogged with rumours following implication in the Riletech scandal.

She begins to delete the photos and messages before turning to the TV as CEO of Riletech – Matteus Riley – is giving a statement, mourning the loss of his colleague. She stares intently, with a look of hate in her eyes as the camera zooms into Matteus Riley.

She turns off the TV and focuses on a battered laptop on the table. She clicks on the ‘Riletech Personnel Page’.

The opening concludes as we follow a Detective into the apartment of the now deceased Peter Connors. The rooms are bustling with Police officers, forensic team and the coroner.

Detective : Any idea on time of death?

Coroner: My preliminary estimate is between 11 pm – 2 am.

Detective: And cause of death?

Coroner: Not seen anything suspicious but I will carry out a full autopsy. It looks to me like heart failure

Detective (to an officer): Who found him?

Officer: His cleaner, this morning.

Detective: Strange

Officer: How so?

Detective: Two glasses. Half drunk. Seems someone else was here that night. Have some officers do door to door to see if they noticed anyone leave last night……and check CCTV

Officer: But it’s natural causes and….

Detective: Just do it. Something doesn’t feel right here.

And that concludes the opening. Intrigued?

Super Sentient Sex Dolls From Saturn : Part Four

If you have happened upon this before reading Part Three then you need to go read that first.

Come to think of it, if you haven’t read Part Three then you probably need to go read Part One and Part Two as well. It’s okay, I’ll wait.

Finished? Cool. So we start this part at Paul’s house or more precisely in Paul’s basement. Like Spencer, Paul lives alone with his Mother.

However, unlike Spencer, his Dad left the family home and didn’t die because he was too busy copulating with a sex doll than piloting a space craft.

Paul has a back story which may or may not be relevant and probably don’t want to spend too much time on it. So the best way of doing this is for him to monologue while searching for something in the basement.

“ So when my Dad left my mum she burned most of his stuff. I remember looking out the window and seeing her throwing clothes and that on a massive fire while screaming ‘Die Bastard Die’……Followed by ‘Hope that bitch dies too’. I don’t think she took the break up well.

Anyway, I was down in the basement a while back preparing for Games Night….I was trying to find the little man who dives in the bucket in Mouse Trap….when I stumbled upon this box full of tech and manuals.

My Dad was an engineer working for some company. Clearly my mum didn’t get a chance to burn it….Might have been cos it was a heavy box and mum had put her back out throwing the Peleton that my Dad bought her on the fire….Oh, and she had all those injunctions against her to stop lighting huge fires.

I thought nothing more of it until I saw that symbol on the sex doll. It’s the same logo on my Dad’s box.”

Paul finds the box and points out the symbol and matches it to the one on the sex doll. They eagerly rummage through the box, Paul starts thumbing through a manual and Spencer retrieves a device which has two cones at one end and a cylinder metal plug at the other.

“What’s this for?” he asks

Paul flicks through the manual and replies “That’s what connects her to the mainframe”

“Mainframe?”

Paul looks through the box again and pulls out a tablet “This I guess.”

They move to the Sex Doll which stands still and look to apply the connection. They work out that the two cone shaped looking things go over her breasts. Paul holds up the cylinder tube at the other end.

“Where do you think this goes?” he asks as the both stare at the most obvious place it could go.

Paul goes to slide it between her legs when suddenly a hand reaches out and grabs him by the throat.

“INTRUDER!! UNAUTHORISED ACCESS” shouts the sex doll as she squeezes Paul’s throat. Her eye glows bright.

Struggling to breathe Paul asks Spencer to help him. Panicking, Spencer tells the Sex Doll to stop and that Paul is a friend. She turns her head to look at him.

“A friend? Would you like me to activate Group Mode, Matt?”

“No! And I’m not Matt…. We were just trying to access your mainframe”

“You wish to come inside me? Very well”

The Sex Doll becomes silent and hesitantly Paul inserts the tube between her legs. The tablet powers up and Version Alpha GINA is displayed followed by a long menu of options.

They are briefly interrupted by Paul’s mum shouting down to see what that noise was all about.

“Nothing Mum” replies Paul “Our game of Rummikub just got a little exciting”

“You boys and your gaming” she says

“Wow! This is her Operating System. We have access to everything” Paul says returning to look at the tablet.

They both start looking through the menu as the secrets of the mysterious sex doll is revealed.

Paul: This is why she calls you by your Dad’s name. She was assigned to your Dad and his DNA registered which is close to yours. I can change the name to you. I can also change her hair colour, skin colour, breast size….seems I can also give her a penis if you want…

Spencer: No! Just get her to stop calling me by my Dad’s name

Paul: Probably can make her look just like Becky if you want….

Spencer: PAUL!! Just change the name

Paul: Wow! I can equip her with all manner of kinks…..Not even sure what that one is… What’s this? We can access her memories…There’s a lot in here….involving your Dad. Do you want to take a look?

Spencer: PAUL!!

Paul: oh yeh… sure… he was busy though…the last one is dated….oh

Spencer looks at the tablet and sees the date. It was the date his dad died.

Paul: seems that memory is a little corrupted…. I can do a factory reset …. Do you reckon that means she will be a virgin again cos your Dad….

Spencer: Paul!!! Just change the name and stop mucking about with her. We have no idea what we are dealing with.

Paul: mmm…that’s interesting. There is a hidden mode enabled here called ‘Kill ’ . Wonder what that could mean?

Spencer: Probably why she tried to strangle you. Must be a Security feature or something .

Paul: Yeh probably. But why would a sex doll need a security mode? I’ll just disable it though. To be on the safe side……..All done

Spencer and Paul disconnect Gina from the mainframe and stare at her.

Spencer: What are we going to do with an advanced sex doll that will obey my every whim?

Paul just looks at Spencer.

We leave them staring at Gina the sex doll and cut to a room where people in long white coats are walking around purposefully. They are either scientists or dentists. However as there has been no indication previously that this is a movie about dentistry we can safely assume they are scientists.

We track one non-descript scientist as she walks across the room holding a tablet. She reaches a man who has his back to us.

“Professor. Someone has accessed the mainframe”

Menacingly he turns around. Even more menacingly he takes the tablet. With some additional menace you didn’t think possible because of all the menacing stuff he’s already he done he says ‘Who?’ menacingly.

Who could this menacing Professor be? Who? This and more will be revealed probably at some point.

Super Sentient Sex Dolls From Saturn – Part One

You ready for another epic Movie Pitch? Then let’s do it. (By the way that was a rhetorical question because I am doing this whether you want to or not).

So with thrill and excitement still buzzing in your beautiful mind, settle down as the second movie from OfSelina begins.

Now we have a lot to cover in the opening such as how or indeed why are there sex dolls on Saturn. No doubt there will be much chuntering in the cinema about whether these sex dolls are super and sentient or if they are super sentient? And if the latter what does that even mean? Well, who knows and by the end of this … who cares?

So to cram a shed load of back story into a very short period of time we adopt a time honoured Cinematic ploy of Flashback and Montage….

First the flashback. The movie opens with a wide shot of space because, after all, this is a science fiction movie and nothing says Sci-Fi like stars and shit.

‘International Space Station – Sometime Ago’

We meet an unnamed generic astronaut moving through the space station looking for ‘Steve’. A cool continuous shot of him just floating around asking anyone he meets if they have seen Steve. They all shake their heads with one asking ‘Who is Steve?’

Eventually we are introduced to the mysterious Steve who is in the toliet….. masturbating wildly.

(NB Long time sufferers who follow me and have read CONFESSIONS will know that Steve is the name of my ex. I want to make it clear for legal reasons that I am not implying in any subtle way that he is and always will be a wanker. Clear? Cool, back to the story.)

In his haste to masturbate Steve has forgotten to lock the door and unnamed generic astronaut opens it just at the moment of ejaculation causing Steve to fall forward and the consequence of his fervent wrist action flies out. Because there is no gravity we see his jizz escape through the door and it travels the same route that unnamed spaceman had taken. This journey of Steve’s Semen will be one continuous shot as people duck out of the way to avoid the cum’s commute in zero gravity.

This piece of steadicam sauciness will last precisely one second longer than the continuous shot from Goodfellas – just for the bantz. It’ll be cool if in years to come, movie scholars will argue whether Goodfellas or Sentient Sex Dolls is the greatest continuous shot in cinematic history. They will eventually settle on Sentient Sex Dolls being the greatest continuous money shot.

It is also a very crucial plot point. Because as they follow Steve’s jizz the viewer will immediately be struck by the realisation that this is just more than a string of cum, it’s the epitome of the butterfly effect. As we watch it land onto sensitive machinery causing an explosion that tears open the space station you will understand that all of what is about to happen begun by one lonely man knocking one out in the toilet. This rope of semen becomes more of an existential odyssey than Kubrick’s 2001 could ever hope to be.

As the space station explodes the Main Titles begin playing out to a montage of what happens next. We are treated to clips of senate hearings and news reports about the destructive qualities of masturbating astronauts.

Reports of other space calamities caused by Spaceman semen occur and the future of our exploration beyond the stars is under threat. A solution to this epidemic is needed and quick.

A Senator suggests sending women instead but a NASA official replies “Do you know how much it would cost to kit them out in those shiny short skirts and thigh high boots?’

Eventually a group of scientists happen upon an idea – send specially constructed sex dolls to accompany the astronauts.

We cut to the President of the United States announcing that Sex Dolls will solve the Astronaut masturbating crisis. Now, a few years ago a President on the lawn of the White House talking about sex dolls in space would seem implausible but now?…Maybe not so much.

It is as the opening credits conclude that the viewer joins a particular band of intrepid and no longer sexually frustrated astronauts as they journey to the newly built Space Station.

In the cockpit is Matt. Quick back story Matt is the younger brother of Steve the wanker. This is revealed by some clever dialogue between Matt and the Control Centre.

Control: Okay Matt. Now comes the tricky part. You’ll need to concentrate for the link up. Clear your mind. Don’t think about the fact that your family was disgraced because of your brother Steve’s persistent masturbation addiction which caused an entire space station to explode.

We also know Matt is married with a kid. He looks up at two photos he has hanging from the cockpit. One a photo of his wife and child smiling by a tree and the other photo a more saucier one of his wife in lingerie. It is the latter that Matt stares at and with the sound of Control telling him to concentrate he turns to look at one of the sex dolls that accompanies him in the cockpit.

Maybe he has time for just a quick one?

He grabs the sex doll and begins wild lovemaking. The scene plays out with Matt lost in lust adopting all manner of sex positions all to the sounds of lights flashing, alarms, screaming and the increasingly irritated voice of Control.

What’s happening Matt?

Matt? Concentrate

Matt, are you fucking the Sex Doll?

Someone needs to get in there and disassemble that sex doll. Jeez this whole family are just wankers.

As the sex doll is riding Matt to a climax he looks over her shoulder through the cockpit window to witness the craft about to collide with the space station.

Matt’s final words are ‘Ooooh Fuck. Forgive me’.

Wide shot of the space station exploding. Probably if the CGI budget is tight can just use the same shot of the first station exploding but flip the image or something.

And that concludes the opening. Now you might think there’s a lot of throwaway stuff in there but all what you have witnessed will be relevant as the rest of the movie unfolds. Probably.

I know you have questions. How do the Sex Dolls end up on Saturn? So are they going to be Super and Sentient or just Super Sentient? And, you really are doing this aren’t you?

As always all these questions and more will be answered in a tightly woven plot with zero holes in it at all.

And yes whilst I haven’t actually explained how these Sex Dolls end up being from Saturn I have managed in the opening scene to put them vaguely yet plausibly in space during a montage which was pretty cool.

Stay Tuned for more Super Sentient Sex Dolls From Saturn

The Overlord Unicorned Squirrels From Mars : The Complete Movie Pitch

I present for the first time the Movie Pitch to The Overlord Unicorned Squirrels From Mars in one handy to read blog post.

No need to thank me . You’re welcome. Enjoy.

So the movie opens with a wide shot of a forest or a wood (not sure if there is a difference between a forest and a wood. I mean I have been propositioned many times to get naughty in the local woods but never a forest.)

So the camera takes the viewer inside the woods and in the clearing are a male and female having sex.

I think it’s always good to start a movie with a sex scene. After all there will be a lot of guys out on romantic dates and they maybe feeling a little horny at the prospect of what may lay ahead for them.

Research shows that they are unlikely to pay attention to what is happening on the screen and instead will be preoccupied with thinking up ways they can get their date to touch their junk in the dark cinema.

Therefore a sex scene right off the bat ought to provide adequate encouragement to quickly leave and go knock one out. This would mean that they can concentrate on the rest of the movie and their partner can enjoy the popcorn without the guy’s penis emerging from the kernels.

Now how full on we go with the sex scene will largely be based on the rating we are likely to get. If the squirrel based violence will see us R rated then I reckon go full on HBO with the sex.

We could get all arty with the sex scene. You know close up of writhing skin, fogged breath emerging from mouths all intercut with nature based metaphors like a close up of a worm going into a hole. Maybe keep going back to a confused looking sparrow.

Or we could simply settle for the sight of a pair of buttocks thrusting up and down as the sound of pleasure echoes through the forest (or woods).

As the sex scene reaches its climax we have a close up of the female, her eyes closed, the pleasure on her face clear. As she opens her eyes we follow her sight to a tree and there sits a squirrel with its back to her.

Her male companion speeds up with his thrusting, the moment of release is imminent. Throughout his fervent banging the female’s gaze is firmly on this squirrel.

The camera leaves the copulating couple and zooms in on the squirrel; the sounds of pleasure get louder and as we reach the squirrel it suddenly turns. The viewer is presented with its demonic red eyes, gnarling teeth and oversized unicorn horn on its head.

This monstrous squirrel leaps from the branches ( that shit would rock in 3D) and we hear the cries of pleasure turn into screams of terror.

It fades to black and we move to the titles. There needs to be a kick arse score with this. I read John Williams doesn’t want to do Star Wars anymore so he’ll be all over this shit. If he’s unavailable then my friend Jez likes to piss around on Garage Band on the iPad so probably could create a tune or two.

Make sure the titles are not tacky. This is, after all, a love story.

The opening score really needs to convey the emotion of killer unicorned squirrels whilst at the same time be a little jovial. You know let the viewer it might not be all bad that rodents with bushy tails and oversized horns want to kill us all.

The opening credits end. They need to run for sufficient time to allow the horny guys who had to go and release following the sex scene time to ..ahem…complete. So say at least 30 seconds.

Actually make it a minute so they can pick up something from the confectionary stand.

So the first scene after the opening credits is set in an apartment.

It is the apartment of Detective Dan Duprez. He’s a brilliant policeman but he’s damaged. Three ex-wives and a teenage daughter who doesn’t like him.

Dan solves crimes in an unorthodox way. He’s difficult to work with but no one seems to mind. Nope HR are cool with his inappropriate comments to his colleagues making the working environment rather toxic. His bosses don’t seem to mind that he has on more than one occasion rammed the face of a suspect against the wall of an interview room, only for it to turn out that guy didn’t do it, because Dan gets results.

I understand a brilliant but flawed Detective is nothing new so if you need him to have ‘a thing’. You know, something he can be associated with that separates him from the countless other brilliantly but flawed Detectives….then …I’m thinking he could presently be shacked up with a sex doll.

Hear me out. Firstly we are not just talking about one of those cheap sex dolls but the more modern ones. You know the ones with real feel skin and actual hair.

Next you got to be thinking about the merchandise. We need as many Pop Vinyl characters as possible and ‘Doll’ would look awesome on the shelf next to the Overlord Unicorned Squirrel.

Thirdly, I am quite confident I can fill the 1 hour 30 minutes of runtime with action and killer dialogue. I don’t need to use up screen time by having Nordicesque staring over a lake for five minutes.

However we need to explain crucial plot points to those who haven’t been paying attention.

So I’m thinking Detective Duprez goes home and tells ‘Doll’ about his day, telegraphing all the important plot points that the viewer needs to know….then he has sex with ‘Doll’.

Good eh? Okay but just don’t rule it out.

So in this scene we establish that he is a detective (his badge and gun are hanging on the bedpost), he is a drinker (he kicks over some whisky bottles), he is getting divorced (court papers are on the fridge) and he also has a daughter (photo also on the fridge). He also has opted for a simpler relationship with a sex doll….See, it really does fit in with the character development.

You may disagree but this has the same vibe as a Castaway Man loves Ball thing. Doll will be the new Wilson and she has tits.

So Detective Duprez goes to the fridge and starts drinking milk when the phone rings. He’s summonsed to attend the site of the grizzly slaughter by the unicorned squirrel we saw before the opening credits.

How much more time do I have to fill with this movie? Really? That long?

Okay maybe he can take the scenic route to the murder scene. Lots of atmospheric driving through narrow lanes in the forest with eerie music.

We follow Detective Duprez on his journey to the forest. To show how brilliant but flawed he is we need to have him driving a crap car so I suggest a Yugo 45 (my brother says he can get us one if we need it).

The Yugo 45 would also be a good choice because if we need to stretch this journey (or indeed any journey) out for runtime reasons it’s highly unlikely the Yugo can comfortably go higher than 60mph.

Anyway he eventually arrives at the crime scene and is met by his partner – Detective Bland.

To be honest, there really will be minimal character development with Detective Bland. His sole purpose is to explain police procedures to the audience and to emphasise how brilliant yet flawed Duprez is.

There really is little point to the character and Detective Duprez will spend the entire time just being a dick to him.

Inevitably Detective Bland will be killed off. I suppose just to make him vaguely interesting he can die saving Duprez.

Duprez of course will be all upset about it despite the fact he has been nothing but a dick to the guy. That should be good enough to sell the premise that flawed but brilliant Duprez always saw Bland as the son he never had. He was just being a complete dick because deep down he really loved him.

So killing Bland off following a brutal attack by a Unicorned Squirrel adds deeper emotional context to the complex characteristics of Duprez. Plus we get this awesome line of dialogue;

Duprez: No Bland that horn was meant for me.

Emotional stuff, right?

Anyway I’m getting ahead of myself. So Duprez and Bland walk towards the bodies that have been savagely attacked by a Unicorned Squirrel. There they meet a Forensic Pathologist.

Again no need to waste time with the character of the Forensic Pathologist because literally all we need he or she to do is engage in this line of dialogue;

Duprez: Cause of death?

Pathologist: I won’t be sure until I’ve studied the bodies back at the lab but if I were to guess I would say the multiple horn shaped penetrating wounds all over the body…. It’s either that or natural causes.

Duprez: What sort of weapon could have make such wounds?

Pathologist: I will know more when I’m back at the lab but I would guess it’s nothing man made.

Duprez: Animal?

Pathologist: Animals don’t make weapons but given the ferocity of the attack I would say we are looking at some sort of creature but I’ll know more when I’m back in the lab.

Duprez: What sort of creature could do this?

Pathologist: I have no idea I’m not a zoologist.

This would lead us nicely into Duprez getting back in his Yugo 45 and taking a long drive to go speak with the zoologist.

Yes I know this is all unnecessary because the audience knows it was a Unicorned Squirrel that did it. But do they know the squirrel is from Mars?…Yes it is in the title of the movie but do they know why the squirrels have come to earth . Okay so the Overlord bit in the title probably does suggest they want to enslave us and take over the world.

But do….Oh never mind.

So Duprez drives to the local zoo and there he meets Melissa the zoologist. She’s dressed in incredibly skimpy khaki shorts and her shirt is unbuttoned revealing ample cleavage.

Look, I know it’s 2018 and really we should be showcasing how this woman is clearly intelligent, has studied hard to achieve her choice of career and we should admire her for ability rather than looks, but we ain’t looking to break any glass ceilings with this movie…

Well there is that scene where the Unicorned Squirrels do crash through a glass ceiling to carry out a slaughter but that’s not the point.

So we first see her tending to an animal (whatever one we can get cheap and won’t shit all over the set).

Duprez wastes no time in walking up to Melissa and showing her the crime scene photos. Just like that! Duprez don’t give a shit. He’s cool with just waving pictures of mutilated bodies around but it’s okay because Duprez gets results.

Duprez : Could these have been caused by an animal?

Melissa: Not from any animal I know

Duprez: A rhino?

Melissa: I know rhinos. Besides it’s too small to have been caused by a rhino

Duprez: Are you sure? Are all your rhinos accounted for?

Now people may expect Melissa to respond along the lines of ‘Fuck you. I’ve spent my entire life studying animals and know how big a rhino horn is. Plus I’ve been here since five in the morning doing an entire round of the zoo. I’m educated, I’m competent and I’d know if a fucking rhino was missing , you dick’.

But instead we will have her happily agreeing to show Duprez to the rhino enclosure.

Now the short walk to the enclosure will all be from the point of view of one of those Unicorned Squirrel bastards, who is high up in a tree. Really ramp up the tension.

Melissa shows Duprez both rhinos are indeed still there. Whilst he should have just taken her word for it in the first place, the fact he would want to double check just shows what a brilliant yet flawed detective he is. Detectives who simply accept what a trained, educated, competent female zoologist may say don’t get results..Not like Duprez does.

As Duprez and Melissa are discussing the fact that the rhinos are still present (even though it’s clear to see they are both there) the Unicorned Squirrel gets closer ready to pounce and then….

Birds fly off from the tree startling Duprez. He asks ‘What’s that’ but Melissa does not respond ‘Birds flying away from a tree’. Instead she remarks that ‘Something must have startled them’.

From the point of view of the Unicorned Squirrel we see Duprez looking up. That brilliant, clever man, he knows something is up.

Duprez exits the zoo. Melissa watches him leave and then turns to walk away when suddenly down falls a….dead mutilated bird. (Yep we are going to troll the audience in thinking it’s a Unicorned Squirrel but it’s not. Those fake scares always work, trust me).

She kneels down to examine the dead bird before slowly looking up at the tree. We know danger lurks there, will Melissa be okay?

The scene cuts to Duprez driving his Yugo back to the Police Station. When he arrives back at the station there is a homeless man outside.

We could, of course, look to explore the social and economic reasons that has led this poor chap to endure a life of deprivation. We could seek to pass comment on a system that allows such hardships to occur. But we’re not.

Nope. The guy’s homeless so he’s going to be shouting about all manner of crazy bollocks. With his long beard and shabby clothes he’ll be screaming ‘They’re here!’ and ‘We’re doomed!’

Despite the fact that Duprez is paid to serve the residents of this town, which includes the homeless guy, he just pushes past him. Because Duprez don’t give a shit.

If you are indeed still reading this pitch with fervent enthusiasm then you may be asking ‘But wait the title suggests interplanetary warfare yet this so far has been a procedural Police drama’

Well, in the next scene we really move into the sci-fi by switching the action to a Secret Astrological Research Centre. Yes, it maybe a small town but when you think about it it’s an obvious place to put such an important and secret facility.

We meet Sophie who is dressed in a white lab coat and unnecessarily short skirt. The lab coat will immediately indicate to the viewer that she is a scientist.

When we first meet her she is looking through a telescope. This will clearly establish she is a space scientist.

Now we do have an important back story to tell with Sophie but I’m acutely aware we need to get back to the gratuitous slaughter of people no-one gives a shit about by the Unicorned Squirrels.

How we achieve this is by introducing another character who can best be described as a ‘dodgy bastard’. We will make it immediate apparent that this guy is odd as he will be bald, have an eye patch and will walk with a limp. He too will be wearing a lab coat. His name is Professor Schrinkle.

From his point of view we see him creep up on Sophie who is attentively looking up at the stars.

“Still trying to find him” He asks in a creepy voice which startles Sophie.

What follows is important dialogue between Sophie and Schrinkle.

Sophie: I will never give up looking for my Father who disappeared during that mission to Mars when I was just a little girl.

Schrinkle: I admire you Sophie. Ever since I was lead scientist on that mission to Mars I have often wondered what happened to your Father.

Sophie: I know you and my Father were good friends and people blamed you for what went wrong. But I know you would have never done anything to endanger him. You’ve been good to me and I remember you ensuring me and mum were okay. You spent a lot of time coming round our house to check on my mum and you also paid for me to make it through Astrological Scientist School. I’m grateful for everything you’ve done.

Schrinkle: How is your Mother by the way? Is she still single? Does she still yoga by that open window on a Tuesday?

He puts his robotic hand on her shoulder (I’ve decided he should have a robotic hand) and whispers “We will find out what happened to him”.

She stands up and moves to take a shower. The owners of this Top Secret Astrological Research Centre decided, following a team meeting, to install a shower after concerns about Sweaty Steve’s personal hygiene were raised.

Having had no real nudity in the movie since the opening scene we need to unnecessarily flash a bit of flesh.

Plus this does allow us to emphasise the creepiness of Schrinkle who watches Sophie through the frosted glass. The sound of creaking metal joints will imply that Schrinkle is pleasuring himself with his robotic hand.

There we have it, all the main players in this emotional melodrama are now in place. It’s time to take it up a notch.

Exciting times!

We enter the second act with important scenes exploring the emotional complexity of the characters interspersed with many Unicorned Squirrel based deaths.

Duprez goes to visit his teenage daughter and is immediately faced with hostility from his ex-wife. She clearly did not appreciate that he is brilliant but flawed.

She has found stability with Derek but it’s important that the viewer has absolutely no respect for Derek.

Sure, he’s reliable, loyal and has provided a safe and peaceful haven for Duprez’s ex wife and daughter. He’s been able to remove them from a chaotic life that ultimately would have seen them spiral into a pit of depression.

He’s stepped up and provided a stable home; giving them all the love he can.

But, fuck you Derek, you’re so boring. When Duprez acts like a dick towards Derek, we won’t care. There’s never been a super hero called Mr Dependable. Batman never became a vigilante because he was tortured by which rubbish bin was being collected that week.

And no-one is going to give a shit when Derek gets brutally murdered by a Unicorned Squirrel.

Duprez wouldn’t have got killed – you loser.

We cut to a scene of a sweet old lady walking her dogs in a park. She lets them off the leash and they run towards the trees. There is rustling of leaves and a high pitched yelp.

The old lady calls out for her dogs. They don’t come. Concerned she walks amongst the trees and there she sees the mutilated corpses of her beloved pets.

With tears in her eyes she looks up at the tree and we see a Unicorned Squirrel pounce down on top of her.

Poor old lady. A retired nurse who, when her husband of forty years died , dedicated her life to a variety of charitable causes. Her five children, ten grandchildren and two great grandchildren are going to be devastated when they learn of her gruesome death. But you’re more upset the dogs died, right?

Duprez arrives at the scene, abandoning his theory that an animal is responsible, he now believes this is the work of a sadistic serial killer.

He examines the bloody consequence of the attack and speaks for the viewer when he exclaims “What sick bastard would do this to a dog?”

Some pointless dialogue and unnecessary explanations will follow from Bland and the Pathologist.

We move back to the Secret Astrological Research Centre where Sophie is getting nearer to solving the puzzle as to what happened to her Father.

We will know this by her exclamations of ‘Strange’ and ‘That’s not possible’. We won’t no exactly what is strange or indeed what isn’t possible. I’d like to say it’s to add a bit of mystery but to be honest I haven’t sorted out all the science stuff just yet.

But this scene is all about Sophie being curious, especially about that strange mechanical sound she hears whenever she turns her back on Professor Schrinkle.

Back to the action now as we cut to an amorous couple; a cheerleader and a football player about to indulge in some carnal pleasure in the woods.

She kneels down ready to perform some expert oral action. The guy throws his head back with pleasure and when he opens his eyes staring back at him is a Unicorned Squirrel, whom piledrives him in the skull.

Blood spurts everywhere which rains down upon the screaming cheerleader who tries to run away before she is also brutally murdered.

Duprez attends concerned about the escalation in murders. He wants to catch who has done this because Duprez gets results.

We quickly move back to the zoo and Melissa is doing zoo like stuff (just in case anyone has forgotten she is a zoologist….although the khaki shorts and the giraffe in the background should be enough).

An evil lurks in the zoo and from the point of view of a bastard squirrel we see it creeping up on Melissa ready to pounce.

Is this the end for poor Melissa? Could this movie be about to get its first meaningful death?

Despite the Unicorned Squirrels being pretty deadly and accurate thus far, for reasons no-one can explain or indeed care about, this particular squirrel misses Melissa as it lunges for her.

What follows is a dramatic and tense chase round the grounds of the zoo. The squirrel bastard relentless in its pursuit. Melissa hides in a room, out of breath..scared. Just when she thinks it is safe…..BAM… A horn pierces the wall.

She screams and tries to runs away but she’s trapped. All she can do is helplessly watch as the squirrel burrows through the concrete. It’s demonic red eyes and gnarling teeth are clearly visible.

She backs into the corner of the wall but the squirrel has its prey just where it wants it. It bares it’s teeth and launches itself towards her.

Then…..BANG….Melissa hits the squirrel with a conveniently placed metal tray. The squirrel is knocked unconscious and then, for good measure, she repeatedly stamps on the fucker.

Back at the Police Station, Duprez is staring thoughtfully at the Evidence Wall. He mumbles that he is ‘missing something’ , but what?

Outside there is a screech of tyres and in walks Melissa holding a bag, her top has conveniently , yet somewhat inexplicably , been ripped in the squirrel attack to show off more flesh.

She tips up the bag and the now dead (and somewhat stamped on) Unicorned Squirrel falls onto the table.

“Here’s your killer!” she pronounces.

Duprez, brilliant as always, enquires what type of animal this.

Breathlessly Melissa responds “This is not any species I know. This is alien.”

And with that revelation we move towards the Final Act.

Melissa points to the dead Unicorned Squirrel to Duprez, declaring that it is an alien species. Now, Duprez in his flawed but brilliant way, is having none of it.

Forgetting he has zero qualifications to even attempt a conversation about alien species, he’s straight up in there suggesting Melissa is crazy for saying it.

Then she shows him the green blood that is oozing from the temple of the Unicorned Squirrel (which occurred when Melissa repeatedly bashed its head in with a metal tray).

Even Duprez knows that green blood can mean only one thing….Alien; well that or you really need to be seeing a Doctor.

Duprez is now all happy to accept its an alien species (not that he really had any justification for disputing that in the first place) and he wants to know more.

Despite the very intelligent Melissa pointing out it was alien, Duprez decides someone else needs to provide more information, so it’s off to the Secret Astrological Research Centre.

Yes, I know it’s meant to be secret but it’s a small town and half the residents work there. Plus there is a whopping great telescope sticking out the roof.

Duprez and Melissa leave the Police station , pushing past the crazy homeless guy still banging on about someone coming, and drive to the Secret Astrological Research Centre.

Despite it being a top secret facility owned by the Government which clearly Duprez does not have clearance for he just storms straight in because Duprez don’t give a shit. Strangely, the people paid to actually stop anyone walking in to a top secret facility don’t really put much effort into stopping him.

Inside he meets Sophie and slams the dead Unicorned Squirrel on a table. WHAM! Just like he couldn’t care less about showing a member of the public photos of decapitated bodies, he’s just waving around dead alien corpses for all to see.

“We think it’s an alien” says Duprez, conveniently ignoring the fact that about ten minutes ago he was ready to have Melissa certified for suggesting such a thing.

Sophie begins to examine the squirrel corpse saying things like ‘interesting’, ‘curious’ and ‘I wonder’ (Like with the science stuff I haven’t got the alien bits all sorted yet but these vague sentiments will be enough to make the viewer think that some mysterious shit is going on).

They are interrupted by Professor Schrinkle. He’s being all creepy and when advised by Duprez of the alien species he offers to help in anyway he can. Schrinkle doesn’t mean it because he is a creepy lying bastard.

It is agreed that Sophie would perform an autopsy on the alien squirrel because that is apparently what Astrological physicists do. Melissa agrees to stay and help and promises to let Duprez know as soon as they find anything out.

Working into the night Sophie and Melissa start talking, it will be a great way to fill in some back story without taking up much time.

Having only just met these girls are not shy of over sharing. Sophie tells Melissa about her dad who was an astronaut that went missing on a one man mission to Mars. She explains how it destroyed the family and left her with a numb feeling of emptiness all her life.

Melissa tells Sophie she is a lesbian.

They then have sex.

Hot, naked lesbian sex.

Putting aside the appropriateness of having sex in a place of work , especially one where you are about to cut open an alien squirrel, there should be nothing wrong with two women expressing their desire for each other.

Love is love and this should be seen as the most natural thing ever.

However, from the point of view of getting people to watch the movie, a hot lesbian sex scene should see it ripped and posted on a website like Pornhub.

A number of guys eager to knock one our before their wife comes home or mum calls them for dinner will watch it. They will then assume that Overlord Unicorned Squirrels is full of hot sex.

They will of course find out that it just has a pair of male writhing buttocks at the start, a solo shower scene and a bit of lesbian sex. But we won’t care because they would have paid their money.

It’s not as if someone is going to post a review on Rotten Tomatoes saying ‘Can only jerk off one and a half times to this ‘.

Anyway, Melissa and Sophie have sex featuring saxophone music, heavy breathing and the sound of a mechanical arm going back and forth.

Melissa awakes from the post-coitus slumber and wraps a sheet round her. Despite not giving a shit about the alien squirrel when she was all horny now that she has had a few orgasms she decides to take a look….. But it’s gone!

She alerts Sophie to the absence of the previously dead alien Unicorned Squirrel. Where could it be?

Back in town, Duprez is just driving around in his Yugo when he gets a call on the radio. There are multiple reports of a disturbance at the bowling alley. Reports of rodents…with horns.

“Shit!” Duprez says performing a handbrake turn in his Yugo “It’s Thursday night. That’s the Mother and Daughter Bowling Tournament Night. I got to get there”.

To really ramp up the tension what we need to do is add a few scenes before Duprez gets the call of a squirrel disturbance.

In these scenes we will see a bunch of random people enjoying themselves at the Mother/Daughter bowling tournament. The mere fact we are paying attention to anybody here is a clear signpost that they are all going to die.

So we have the elderly mother and daughter couple. The daughter is 80 and the mother is 105 and they were at the very first Mother/Daughter bowling tournament; indeed they won it in 1972. Anyhow, they are going to be killed by squirrels.

Next you have a touching scene where a daughter tells her mother that she loves her very much. The mother holding a bowling ball turns and smiles, it’s a loving smile. Then a squirrel emerges from the bowling ball machine and pierces the mother’s head with its horn. Heartbreaking stuff.

We do of course need a loveable fat guy. I’m acutely aware there has been no loveable fat guy in this movie. Let’s change that by introducing Al. He works at the bowling place. Everybody loves Al.

Al tries to save everyone by grabbing the shot gun he keeps under his desk (no one has ever questioned why he has a gun at a bowling alley). Anyway he shoots a few squirrel bastards before ushering a number of patrons to safety into a store cupboard.

Locking the door he turns to utter the words ‘We’ll be safe in here’, right before numerous squirrel horns shoot through the wooden door and spear him to death.

Poor Al. He only had a few days left to retire before he can devote more time to that orphanage he was building.

As we know Duprez’s ex wife and daughter are at the bowling alley. Also there is Derek. You remember Derek, right? Loyal , loving Derek who has provided a stable home to Duprez’s ex wife and daughter.

Now he could be at home watching sports or be out with the boys drinking. Yet he has chosen to pop along to the bowling alley to support the love of his life. What a nice guy. Yet you’re still not going to give a shit when he dies.

But how are Duprez’s ex wife and daughter fairing in this squirrel onslaught? Surprisingly well.

Whilst others run for their lives they have the wherewithal to knock out a few squirrel bastards with hefty swings of a bowling ball.

Yep. Poor Al couldn’t see those squirrels off with a shotgun but a forty year old mother and her teenage daughter can get the job done with a bowling ball (a 12 pound one if you’re interested).

Strangely, the squirrels had been launching at people with pinpoint accuracy yet when it comes to Duprez’s ex wife and daughter they keep on missing.

Finally, Duprez enters the bowling alley. Despite agreeing to protect the entire town he’s more concerned with the welfare of his ex wife and daughter. No one seems to care much about that and are happy another guy has turned up with a gun (the other gun owner, Al, is presently hanging from the door like a macabre pin the tail on the donkey).

Duprez’s ex wife and daughter are both very happy to see Duprez. This proves that even if you are an absolute dick if you try to save someone during a squirrel apocalypse that’ll make you an okay guy.

However , these squirrels are cunning bastards. They circle around Duprez, his ex wife and daughter. This is strange because they could just all launch at them, giving them zero chance of survival. But now they are doing this stalking thing…..it’s for dramatic effect.

Duprez and co are in danger. Can anyone save them? Well Bland (remember him? No didn’t think so) tries to help. He got the call to assist and left his pregnant girlfriend at home. She told him to come back in one piece. He promised. The squirrels rip him in two. Therefore, not only did Bland not do very well at saving anyone, he lied to his pregnant girlfriend.

The squirrels approach the trapped Duprez family. He’s out of bullets. The ex wife has thrown the bowling ball (her motive remains unclear).

Unarmed. No where to go. Who will save them?

Derek. That’s who . Derek will save them.

He jumps in between them and waves a pole at the squirrels. Turning back he tells the previously trapped Duprez clan to run.

Now Duprez ought to be saying ‘No Derek I am employed to look after all residents including you. You go’

But he doesn’t. He grabs his ex wife and daughter and runs out of the bowling alley while Derek bravely fends off the squirrels.

The ex wife looks back to see the squirrels pounce on Derek. She screams and Duprez pulls her to the car saying there is nothing that can be done for him (you didn’t really try Duprez).

Poor Derek. Died saving the woman he loves….. You still don’t give a shit he’s dead.

They reach Duprez’s Yugo and get inside but they are not alone. Squirrels surround the car. A few take a shot at the vehicle piercing the metal. There is no escape. A violent and bloody death is inevitable.

Then suddenly they stop. The squirrels stand on their hind legs… something is calling them, but what?

They all begin to run away. Where are they going? Duprez wants to find out and decides that his ex wife and daughter are safer with him following every single one of the killer Unicorned Squirrels than maybe back at the police station or somewhere.

Soon Duprez realises where the squirrels are heading…. The Secret Astrological Research Centre. But why?

The action moves back to the Secret Astrological Research Centre.

You will recall that shortly after having inappropriately timed hot lesbian sex, Melissa and Sophie realise that the most certainly dead Unicorned Squirrel is in fact not dead and has gone missing.

Whilst it could be possible for them to play out the entirety of the scene naked, it is likely to be considered unnecessarily gratuitous. So have them slip on an ultra skin tight space suit that just happens to be laying around.

Despite the fact that the suit can zip all the way up both Melissa and Sophie, realising that time is of the essence to hunt for this squirrel, only zip the front up halfway thus displaying cleavage.

Some may argue that in itself is gratuitous but those same people would be moaning if Melissa or Sophie met a bloody end because they were too busy concentrating on a zip than worrying about a killer squirrel.

They notice drops of green blood and choose to follow it. For reasons that will be unclear they follow the trail by torchlight rather than turning the main lights on.

This, of course, will give us the opportunity for a tense scene as they follow the trail along a spooky dark corridor. Lots of unnecessary fake jump scares can be had.

Eventually, they reach a door. The trail of blood stops. The squirrel is inside!

Sophie remarks she’s never seen this door before. Melissa chooses not to raise questions as to how observant Sophie is. Nor how a squirrel managed to open a door. There’s no time for that. Besides, they are more curious about the purple glow that emanates from under the door.

They enter the room and see Professor Schrinkle, now in full mad scientist mode. He’s unnecessarily pressing buttons and pulling levers. To his right is the cause of the purple glow….a large portal that hovers in mid air.

There are squirrels in the room but their attention is not on Sophie or Melissa. The squirrels sit poised in a semi-circle staring at the portal. What are they looking at? What are they waiting for?

Before we can answer that we must first deal with Professor Schrinkle who, as he is now full mad scientist, must embark on a really pointless monologue.

To be honest what he will say will make no sense but I’m guessing that by this point of the movie no one will really care. If need be just keep cutting back to Sophie and Melissa with their cleavage showing to sustain interest.

Anyway here is the monologue:-

Schrinkle: They didn’t believe me Sophie. They blamed me. For everything. But I knew there was something out there.

I didn’t want your father to die Sophie. It wasn’t my fault. But they blamed me.

I loved your Mother, Sophie. If they hadn’t blamed me maybe she could have loved me too.

I watched you grow up without a father into the beautiful , attractive woman you are. So intelligent and with all the curves in the right places. At the same time your Mother got old and wrinkly and I realised I love you.

But how could you love me? After what they said I had done!

Well I’m going to show them. Show them all. It’s coming. It cannot be stopped.

Sophie and Melissa look into the portal and there moving closer is a giant Unicorned Squirrel. Demonic eyes, teeth large. It must be the size of a skyscraper. It is the Overlord.

Sophie: You’re mad. That thing will kill us all

Schrinkle: I can keep you safe . Come with me….and you can bring your friend next to you if you want.

Sophie: You’re insane. I could never be with a monster like you

Schrinkle pulls out a gun and says “If you won’t be with me then you must die”.

Just as Schrinkle goes to pull the trigger someone hits him from behind, knocking him out. But who is their saviour?

Hey…It’s the crazy homeless guy (they really need to up their security in this facility).

He looks at Sophie. She looks at him

“Dad?” She says with tears in their eyes and they embrace. Emotional stuff.

Now of course we are going to have to deal with a few obvious plot holes here which thankfully can be done by way of another monologue.

Former crazy homeless guy : Oh Sophie I remember it now. That portal must have kickstarted my memory.

I remember going to Mars….seeing those things and knowing I had to warn everyone.

Something must have happened. I don’t know what but I returned to Earth with only fragments of my mind. I thought I was going crazy.

But I’ve found you now. I’m here. I will keep you safe.

It’s at this point a squirrel, who are well known not to care for emotional reunions , launches itself at Sophie’s Dad.

It burrows it’s horn up through his anus and out of his stomach.

Sophie is understandably rather upset by this. Having just been reunited with her long lost father she is a little pissed she has just had to watch him die from a Unicorned Squirrel climbing up his rectum.

She takes out all her frustration on this turn of events by stamping the fuck out of the squirrel. She then crumbles to the floor in a sobbing mess.

Melissa is equally confused with what is happening. Totally unprepared on how you comfort someone who has just witnessed their father die by squirrel, she also is unsure if now would be a good time to enquire if they will be having sex again later.

Instead, Melissa turns to the more pressing problem of the extremely large squirrel about to come through the portal.

“Sophie. Help. We’ve got to shut this portal off” She cries.

Will they do it? Or will the world crumble under the ferocious might of the Overlord Unicorned Squirrel?

Where is Duprez? And what of the hordes of squirrels making their way towards the centre?

How will it end? Does anyone actually still care?

The enormous Overlord Unicorned Squirrel is making its way to earth. If he or she – let’s not go assuming a murderous horned squirrel’s gender now – arrives it will be armageddon.

Can Melissa and Sophie turn off the portal to prevent this monster from entering the earth’s atmosphere?

Well they try.

Recovering surprisingly quickly from witnessing the brutal death of her father she had literally just been reunited with after many long years, Sophie springs into action to turn off the portal.

Now I’m guessing that no actual scientists will watch this movie so we can have Sophie say all manner of crazy shit that actually makes no sense.

Here’s the dialogue:-

Melissa: What are we going to do?

Sophie: If I can reverse the polarity and reduce the quantum flux then perhaps the gravitational constant will cause the portal to fall in on itself. But I’ll need you to control the heliocentric ionosphere.

Melissa: Great let’s do that

See putting together science type words randomly in a sentence works. Unless someone sits down and actually studies the dialogue we ought to get away with it.

Melissa and Sophie begin to shut down the portal, but wait, Schrinkle is awake! What maniacal thing is he about to do?

He crawls slowly to the machine and reaching out his mechanical hand he….. switches the machine off. Oh, the devilish Professor Schrinkle.

Melissa and Sophie look perplexed and then suddenly Schrinkle’s skeletal hand grabs at Sophie’s leg.

We cut away from this tense scene to see what Duprez is up to. He’s merrily chasing the horde of squirrels in his Yugo.

They reach a cornfield and the trail goes cold. Where have the squirrels gone? Duprez stops the car and turns off the engine. The headlights dimly illuminating the cornfield.

Then the squirrels emerge from the corn, circling the Yugo, ready to rip the occupants to shreds. Despite the car working perfectly all week and only recently having a full service the car will not start. They are trapped! They are at the mercy of the squirrels.

Duprez checks his gun, just one clip of ammo left and hundreds of squirrels. He’s still going to give it a go because Duprez don’t give a shit.

The squirrels get ready to pounce but then….. the army arrive!

Thankfully there is a fully operational army base just the other side of the cornfield and they come with tanks and machine guns and blast the squirrel bastards.

Yep, this town also has its own army. It really is a wonderful place to live.

We keep cutting back and forth between scenes of the army slaughtering the squirrels and Schrinkle and Sophie fighting.

She’s kicking at him and he’s just taking the opportunity to grope at her ass and tits. Meanwhile, Melissa works out that Schrinkle turned the machine off and sets about switching it back on.

However, there are squirrels blocking the switch. Back and forth the action goes of soldiers v squirrels, Sophie v Schrinkle and Melissa booting some squirrels out the way so she can get to the switch.

How long these scenes go on for is largely dependent on how much more runtime we have left to fill.

It concludes with the army vanquishing the squirrels, Sophie smashing Schrinkle’s face in with her stilettos (the ultra skin tight space suit has stilettos) and Melissa turning the switch back on.

But as the machine powers back up Schrinkle, a bloody mess, laughs and says “You’re too late. It’s entered the earth’s atmosphere. You’ve lost”.

Now we’ve covered a lot of deep and meaningful themes in this movie. Possibly, we could bring some political intrigue into this movie.

We move to the White House where the President of the United States of America has just been informed of the pending invasion of the Overlord Unicorned Squirrel.

President: We must nuke the bastard

Random staff member: Sir, we don’t have any nuclear weapons.

President: What?

RSM: Well they are quite dangerous and expensive to have around so we actually haven’t had any for years and we just say that we have. No one has ever really questioned us actually owning any.

President: So we don’t have nukes?

RSM: No, Sir

President (on telephone): Get me Britain…… Hey Prime Minister you heard about this gigantic monster

Prime Minister: Oh yes. Such a brute. We have had an emergency meeting where it was agreed that Beatrix Potter had lied to us.

President: You going to nuke it?

Prime Minister: Oh heavens no. Such frightful things those nuclear weapons. No, we have never had any.

President: What the hell do you keep in those subs then?

Prime Minister: Oh just old souvenirs from previous Royal Weddings. But we have a plan.

President: Which is?

Prime Minister: We shall wait for it to arrive and tell it to jolly well bugger off. If that does not work we intend to throw rocks at it.

President (to random staff member): What about anyone else? The EU?

RSM: They need all member states to agree on a motion that they will have a look around the place to see if they could find nuclear weapons. A meeting is scheduled for next Wednesday… although France said they might not be able to make it.

President: North Korea?

RSM: They said ‘nah we’ve just been shitting with you, mate’

President: Russia?

RSM: They pretended to be an answerphone message but we could hear them giggling.

President: So there’s no one?

RSM: I’m afraid not sir

President: Then God help us all

Dramatic stuff.

We watch as the monstrous, evil Overlord Unicorned Squirrel hurtles towards earth.

Close ups of helpless faces of our main characters, scenes of people watching this terrible event unfold on televisions all across the world.

This is it. The end. The earth will perish at the hands of a rather large squirrel.

All hope is lost. No one can save us.

But then…….

WHAMMMM!!! Out of nowhere a red Tesla Roadster slams into the Overlord Squirrel moving him away from the earth.

Good job someone decided to stick one of them up in space.

The movie concludes with joyous scenes as the world celebrates it will not become a large squirrel’s bitch.

Duprez hugs his ex wife and daughter. Yes, near armageddon is enough to make her forget he is a total dick.

Finally, Melissa and Sophie kiss passionately and in that moment Sophie forgets that the skewered corpse of her father lay only inches away from her. Epic music and the sound of a mechanical arm going up and down plays over their passionate kissing.

Roll end credits.

Of course we need an end credits scene so picture this….

Deep space. Silent. We hear the echoing sounds of Space Oddity and slowly into view comes the Roadster with the Overlord Squirrel wrapped round the bumper. It looks dead. Then, suddenly it opens its eyes.

And then back to a list of people who unashamedly made this movie

At the end the obligatory ‘No squirrels were harmed in the making of this movie (even though they are bastards)’.

Followed up with Unicorned Squirrels will return in ‘Hiberannihilation’

Right?

No?

Okay then.

Sad that it’s over? Well there are a few more Squirrel posts for you to enjoy!

Cool Character Concepts drawn by the talented Robert Ahmad.

Or perhaps you are wondering what happened to Doll? All is revealed in this Deleted Scene

Maybe you want to see the Trailer

What Was MetaWrite6000 All About?!

Regular readers and people who may have gone scrolling through might be wondering ‘You know that MetaWrite6000 thing you did? What the hell was that all about?!’

This of course is a fair question and one I will gladly answer.

Prior to the MetaWrite6000 posts my website was in disarray, littered with incomplete stories that had no real semblance of order. I was behind on writing Fell8 and indeed my creativity was at a bit of a lull. I was pretty much on the verge of just saying fuck it and giving up the website.

Then one evening (I probably had drunk alcohol) I thought wouldn’t life be easier if I just could connect something to my brain that would automatically write down all my thoughts.

A quick look on Amazon made it clear this did not exist (or certainly not on Prime one day delivery) but still I imagined how easier it would be for writers if we simply could think a story.

And in that moment of wishful thinking the idea for MetaWrite6000 arrived. A few Jack Daniel’s later and I had a whole project. It was perhaps my intoxicated enthusiasm for the project that led to me ignoring one pretty obvious flaw in my otherwise great plan.

The idea started simple I would create a fictitious neurological aid for writers – The MetaWrite6000.

That was the easy part and I put together the mock adverts and transcripts of early MetaWrite6000 logs.

I also proudly announced on Twitter that I was now powered by the MetaWrite6000. Clearly those who follow me know me too well because no-one really questioned that (or check to see if I was okay)

With the first part of the plan successfully completed (and still unwise to the major flaw that clearly existed) I moved onto Part Two.

This was slightly more complex but the main premise is that the MetaWrite6000 would break my website. I changed my website design and incorporated smashed versions of all my graphics.

I as the author will then end up in some digital coma and effectively be stuck in my website. It was all going to be beautifully meta.

What would then follow is a number of stories where I am the main character. Each story would be broken up with conversations with MetaWrite6000. The conclusion would be my website being put back to normal.

The first story was myself as a stripper forced to give a lap dance to a guy, who if he gets aroused would open the gates of Hell.

There was also to be a story where I would me a Miss Marple type character solving a murder at a country house. There would even be a fantasy adventure where I was not the princess but a warrior goblin.

I would also be paying a visit to Fell8 and Unicorned Squirrels. The idea being that by linking it to my earlier work my entire website would become the story. I could reference the incomplete stories and the out of place posts.

It would become a jumping on point for new visitors to my website and at the end of it should have left it in a better state. Everything would now have a wider purpose of telling a much grander story.

So with alcohol fuelled enthusiasm I set about writing the first part ‘I Meta Girl At The Gates Of Hell’.

I quite like the first part but as it stands it remains the only published part to the wider project.

This is because shortly after publishing the first part that major flaw, you know the one that was pretty obvious from the start dawned on me.

My website had got into the mess it had because I was chaotic which was exacerbated wildly by my work commitments.

Whilst the MetaWrite6000 was an exciting project the chaos and other commitments were still there. I simply could not devote the time it needed to make it work.

I therefore abandoned the entire project before it really got going.

But the early parts still remain on my website as a reminder of the project that could have been.