Attack of the Giant Bobby

After the fourth consecutive forced viewing of The Paul Lynde Halloween Special I finally cracked. I was ready to spill my guts before my kidnappers did the very same without my consent. A few hours previous, I'd been ambushed while questioning a Bavarian taxidermist about a series of grizzly bear maulings that had recently taken place in the the upper west side. This just wasn't my day. Earlier in the afternoon I'd been denied a new driver's license at the DMV because, despite my enormous silk turban and curl-tipped shoes, I was unable to provide sufficient identification to prove that my name was actually "Ali Baba". Goddamn bureaucrats! How the hell do they expect me to get a new driver's license under my own name after five drunk driving arrests in a single year?!

I wasn't sure what my captors had in mind for me, but I was crossing my fingers that it didn't involve rat traps or hairy male buttocks. I could hear muffled voices from the next room and it sounded as if my kidnappers were debating whether they would rather have sex with a live squid or a dead Oopa Loompa. This was a fine kettle of fish! Me, a private investigator with an honest-to-God certificate from The Jerry Jergen's Private Investigator School College, tied to a chair with my eyes forced open with tooth picks and duct tape. If only they had forced a pair of silky women's' panties into my mouth as a makeshift gag, I wouldn't have been so embarrassed.

Seeing as how my kidnappers had yet to reveal their motives for my abduction, I broached the subject before I had to once again endure the horror of the effeminate Paul Lynde attempting to play a macho trucker clad in white leather duds, fighting funnyman Tim Conway for the love of diner waitress, Roz "Pinky Tuscadero" Kelly. What any of that had to do with Halloween I was still attempting to figure out on the fourth viewing. I cleared my throat and then addressed my captors in a loud voice so that they could hear me in the next room. "So...ah...to what do I owe the dubious pleasure of your hospitality?"

There was a brief silence and then footsteps from the other room as my kidnappers approached me, finally revealing themselves. Upon laying eyes on the pair I could only gawk in speechless wonder. One of them appeared to be a blond boy, no older than seven years of age, but monstrous in size, wearing blue pajamas that stretched tightly over his skin as if he had been wearing them before experiencing some kind of freakish growth spurt. The second kidnapper was a middle-aged, mustachioed man dressed in a tuxedo, top hat and black cape, the unmistakable trademark costume of your typical stage magician. "I am Montag! Master of illusion!" he said, then gestured to his gargantuan accomplice. "And this is Giant Bobby."

The behemoth child stepped forward with an angry grimace on his face, clutching his fists in rage. "And you're a fucking dead man!" he roared and then punched me hard in the face, bloodying my nose. Montag chuckled. "Giant Bobby has been partaking of the Food of the Gods...a mysterious white liquid that brings about gigantism for reasons that are yet unknown by scientists." he explained. "Unfortunately for you, one of the side effects of Giant Bobby's condition is a ravenous craving for human flesh."

"What are the other side effects?" I asked.

"Irritability, severe diarrhea, which causes the irritability, a fondness for stage magic and an irrational bitterness over the fact that Joe Besser was chosen as Shemp Howard's successor for The Three Stooges." Montag said.

"Hoof and Goofs was fucking terrible!" Giant Bobby screamed and stomped on my foot, breaking my right pinkie toe in his fury.

I attempted to remain calm, despite the fact that I had just wet my pants. "You two wouldn't be mixed up in that series of grizzly bear maulings in the upper west side would you?" I asked, already anticipating the answer.

"As I have mentioned, Giant Bobby has acquired a voracious appetite for human flesh. To feed such an enormous growing boy, one must seek out human meat. The Bavarian taxidermist, Hans Shickelhaggen, provided the grizzly bear skin as a reasonable disguise with which to cover our tracks. Who would suspect that the vicious grizzly bear was in reality a gigantic seven year old boy with a taste for human flesh and a mad magician who's ghastly tricks actually work?"

I thought for a moment. "Hey isn't that former Wheat Thins spokeswoman, Sandy Duncan?" I said excitedly, glancing over my captor's shoulder. The pair turned away momentarily as I struggled to free myself. My ploy was all for naught, as I wasn't able to free myself from the chair before the gigantic youngster and his magician friend turned back to face me with looks of irritation.

"Giant Bobby is hungry!" the boy roared, seizing me by the throat and lifting both me and the chair off of the floor. "Feed Giant Bobby the genie man!" Bobby said, tossing me to the ground and shattering the chair. As I rubbed my throat, gasping for breath, I realized that my humongous silk turban and curl-tipped shoes did in fact make me look like a magic genie of the lamp. "Yes, Giant Bobby...I am a genie...and I come from the magic lamp...my name is Umpoopoo. Perhaps you would rather have three magic wishes rather than just eating me for dinner." I suggested.

Giant Bobby mulled over the idea for a few seconds. "Giant Bobby wants wishes!" Montag looked at me skeptically. Just then we were interrupted by a knock at the door. Without waiting for an invitation to enter, a middle-aged woman walked into the room accompanied by a man in a white doctor's coat. "Bobby, I would like you to meet, Dr. Fredrick Sizzledick." she said.

"And I would like for you to GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!" Giant Bobby roared. "Get outta here you bitch! Get outta my room!"

The woman exited the room timidly, shooting the doctor an embarrassed glance as if to apologize for Giant Bobby's rude behavior as he followed her out, closing the door behind him.

"Giant Bobby wants his fucking wishes!" The over-sized boy was now thoroughly enraged. I would have to act quickly if I wanted to survive the bizarre evening. "My wish is your command" I said and then crossed my arms and nodded my head. To my amazement, a puff of purple smoke appeared before me and former Wheat Thins spokeswoman, Sandy Duncan suddenly materialized. "What the shit?" she said, coughing a waving her arms to clear away the haze.

I pointed at Miss Duncan with starstruck glee. "Hey, isn't that former Wheat Thins spokeswoman, Sandy Duncan?!" I said. As Giant Bobby and Montag rushed to Miss Duncan waving their pencils and autograph books in a frenzy, I made well my escape, leaping from the window onto the back of a giant mothman who happened to be soaring under the apartment window at that very moment. As I soared away into the night sky I chuckled. "Merry Christmas to all! And to all I good night!" I said, as the mothman shit on some crazy homeless guy on the sidewalk below. "I love you mothman." I said and kissed him on the cheek. "I love you too, Kevin." he said with a grin.

The End