That’s All, Folks

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by Menagerie

Vickie hated sitting for the Bradys' kid. The little geek was skinny, sickly and snotnosed, and he stared at her all night in a way that gave her the creeps. But her mother was a good friend of Mrs. Brady's, so she couldn't turn the request down. She was pretty much retired from the babysitting business, anyway; she was just home from college for a few days, and figured this would be one of the last times she'd have to watch over him or anybody else.
Mrs. Brady eagerly welcomed her at the door; she was about to be elected president of her local civic club, and had a long evening ahead of her. "Stevie's so glad you can sit for him tonight," she said as she struggled into her coat. "You were always his favorite. He's so tied up with those computers these days, it should be easy for you; just get him to bed by eleven."
Vickie forced a smile. "Sure, Mrs. Brady. Nothing to worry about," as the lady hustled out the door.
She sighed and settled in for the evening; she'd brought some books and CD's. She was a short, vivacious brunette; not beautiful, but well-built and perky, with a page boy haircut and a toothy grin. Her ample bosom strained at her t-shirt; her jeans were tight. She looked around; there was no sign of Stevie. She'd heard the ten-year-old had turned into a real whiz on the computer, and had been building some of his own components.
She plopped down on the couch, kicked off her shoes, and reached for the remote. One of those silly cartoons that Stevie loved was on--the hungry wolf chasing the shrewd rabbit. Decked out in a derby and bib overalls, the wolf had just put the rabbit, tied up and with an apple in its mouth, under a casserole dish; when he lifted the top again, the rabbit was gone, replaced by a stick of dynamite. Ka-blam! Vickie rolled her eyes and started to change the channel.
"Do you like that show?" Stevie had snuck down the stairs; his high-pitched voice startled her. She gathered herself. "Hi, Stevie!" she smiled. "Oh, it's okay. So what have you been up to?"
The kid's eyes shone eagerly through thick glasses. He hadn't grown much; his sandy hair was still slicked down, and he still wore button shirts with breast pockets. Usually, though, he was so shy around her he barely talked; now, he looked excited. "I've been working on something new with the computer," he announced. "An interactive game. Would you like to play?"
Vickie hesitated a little; "Sure," she finally said, and followed him up the stairs. On the TV, the wolf had stuffed the rabbit into an oven in his den; the rabbit's head popped out of one of the range tops, sending a skillet up in the air and down on the wolf's head.

The kid's bedroom was a tangle of mainframes, monitors and wires. One power cable stretched out the window. It was so warm with all of that equipment crammed into a little room, Vickie started to sweat. Up on the dresser on Stevie's big TV, that same cartoon was on; the wolf, wearing a napkin around his neck and carrying a knife and fork, was chasing the rabbit.
Stevie was talking about ROMs and RAMs and hard drives and operating systems; Vickie wasn't interested in any of that stuff. Then, he turned on one of the computers and pointed something at her that looked like a camera with a laser on the front. "This is how I do it," he said. "You can actually live what's in the program!"
Oh, sure, she said to herself, but she was nervous. "That thing looks dangerous, Stevie," she said. "Does your mom know you've got it?"
"I built it out of mail order parts," he said proudly. "I got the idea from a site on Virtual Reality on the Internet, then looked up some engineering stuff. I'm drawing power from the main cable outside."
That's it, Vickie thought; I can't let this kid electrocute himself in my care. "I don't think you should be using this thing, Stevie," she said, as sternly as she could make her usually bubbly, little-girl voice sound. "Why don't we just go back downstairs? We can play Asteroids or something."
"Oh, this is a lot better than Asteroids," he said, grinning. "Here we go!" And as he flipped a switch, Vickie was drenched in a powerful beam of light
It felt like the light was going right through her. She was rigid, incapable of moving or speaking. As she stood helplessly, she suddenly realized she felt lighter--as if she were going to float away. And then, she began to fade from view; she grew more and more transparent...until finally, she wasn't there anymore; her clothes dropped to the floor.
Stevie switched off the strange machine, then looked up at the TV on the dresser. And there she was.

"Stevie!" Vickie shrieked. She was nude, standing in front of the cartoon backdrop of the Wolf & Rabbit Show. "Where am I? What did you do to me?"
Stevie grabbed the microphone next to the humming computer. "Vickie--it worked! You're part of the cartoon!"
She looked around at the pastel blue sky, the sketchily-drawn green sod...and then it dawned on her that he could see her. She covered her breasts with one arm, her pussy with the other hand, and dropped to her knees. "Stevie--get me out of here, right this minute!" she screamed.
Stevie thought for a moment. "I don't know if I can. All I've been working on is inserting the person into the program. I'll see if I can figure out how to reverse it."
Vickie bowed her head and began sobbing. Suddenly, she felt a finger tap on her bare shoulder and heard a familiar voice say, "Eh, pahdon me." She jumped; it was the screwy-looking rabbit from the cartoon. He looked at her quizzically; then, grinning, said, "You're new around here, aincha? I'm Harry Hare. Pleased to meetcha," extending a four-fingered, white-gloved hand.
Vickie was so astonished, she couldn't talk. The cartoon character narrowed his eyes and rubbed his chin. "Hmmm--cat gotcher tongue, eh?" An animated cat dropped out of nowhere and, reaching into the rabbit's mouth, pulled out its tongue and took off; the tongue unrolled like toilet paper, pulling taut and then snapping back into the buck-toothed creature's mouth.
Vickie's pounding heart was starting to slow; she caught her breath, swallowed and said, "Help me--please! I'm trapped here!"
"Aw," chortled Harry Hare, "things ain't so bad here. Just," and with an arm around her bare back, drawing her close to him, he whispered, "watch out for Willie Wolf."

Stevie was reversing wires and switching the plugs on gizmos as fast as he could. Every once in a while, though, he'd glance up at the screen. Gee!...Vickie sure was pretty! He'd never seen a naked girl before. Her legs were sleek and sexy; her breasts full and upthrust. It occured to him--I should save this! He popped a disc into the computer and began loading the image on the screen...

Harry Hare abruptly looked to the right, and jumped six feet in the air; his legs started churning, and he took off like a bullet as soon as he touched the ground. Vickie looked, too; then turned, and ran after the rabbit, as fast as she could run.
It was Willie Wolf, all right, lumbering after them. He still had the napkin under his chin, the knife and fork in his paws; his tongue lolled behind him, a huge smile on his lupine, cartoon face. He whipped past Vickie, bounding after Harry...then, with a look of amazement, stuck both feet out and screetched to a halt like a car with bad brakes. He turned back to look at Vickie, who had stopped dead; a finger of chill traced down her back. Willie started slavering; his eyes literally bulged out of their sockets, his tongue fell out of his mouth and hit the ground. "Hmm--a girl!" exclaimed Willie in a heavy Balkan accent. "Even more tender d'an a rabbit!" And he started after her.
Vickie turned and ran wildly, tears blinding her. There--in front of her--a hole in the ground. She jumped into it feet first, dropping a dozen feet and landing on her soft bottom on the earth. "Ooff!" she grunted.
This was no ordinary hole in the ground; it had a bed, a nightstand and dresser--and one very angry-looking cartoon porcupine. "Hey, whut'tha big idea?" Peter Porcupine sputtered. The crazyness was starting to become routine to poor Vickie. "Please!" she begged. "Willie Wolf is after me! He wants to eat me!"
"Better you than me, thithter," responded the beast, who turned his tail toward the young woman and began to shoot spines at her. One sunk into a breast; another, into her firm, smooth belly. They were sharp, and hurt. "Ow! Ow!" she cried, turning and running down a corridor; several quills found their way into her butt as she escaped, crying in pain.
The light behind Vickie receded into the distance as she escaped down the tunnel; finally, it was pitch black, and she had to slow down and feel her way along. Her heart was pounding again; her breath came in gasps. "Stevie!" she shouted in the darkness. "Stevie, goddamn you--get me out of here!"

Stevie wasn't making any progress; every time he tried to reverse the program, error messages filled the terminal's screen. And now, he thought unhappily, he couldn't even see his nude babysitter's body in the darkness of the porcupine's hole. A message on the screen informed him the disc he was loading was full; he inserted a new one.

Vickie was damp with sweat as she worked her way along; then, she saw a faint light ahead. She ran desperately toward it; there was another hole, a good six feet over her head. How would she get out? She looked around. Of course--this was a cartoon! Lying around her were anvils, bowling balls, sticks of TNT--and a trampoline. She put it under the hole, and began bouncing. Up...up...three, four five feet above the floor of the tunnel...then her head poked through the hole...then her bosom...she got ready to put her arms out to stop her from falling back through the hole and to pull herself out...
She didn't need to. In mid-bounce, a huge, hairy paw grabbed her by the throat , lifted her out of the hole--choking, her tongue out, her legs kicking--and thrust her into a gunny sack, tying the top shut.
Frightened, she punched and kicked from inside the bag. She bounced up and down as the wolf, carrying the sack over his shoulder, jauntily strutted toward his cave, singing some sort of crazy song about eating supper: "The volf and his vife, vit'out any strife, cut up de girl wit' a fork and a knife." Terror washed over her; her blows became more frantic.
Finally, he arrived in the den. Tossing the sack on the floor and his derby hat neatly onto a hat rack, Willie shouted, "Honey, I'm home--and I've got supper!"
Wanda Wolf emerged from the cartoon wolf kitchen, wearing an apron, lipstick--of course--and a scowl. "Where have you been, you lazy good-for-nothink?" she demanded in a contralto version of Willie's accent. "You set out after d'at rabbit an hour ago!"
"But, Sweety, dis is even better d'an a rabbit," said Willie, untying the sack and dumping Vickie out.
Sprawled on her back, Vickie looked up between her knees at the two looming characters; both of them were twice her size. "Oh, Villie--she looks absolutely scrumptious!" exclaimed Wanda. She grabbed both of the whimpering girl's ankles with one paw and held her upside down. "And plenty of meat, too!" she added, as Willie beamed with joy.
"Stevie!" Vickie screamed, her voice cracking. "Do something! Scare them! Shout at them!"
She heard the kid's voice. "I can't, Vickie. This is your interactive game; only you can hear me. Let me see if this will--oops."
"Oops?" she shrilled. The cartoon animals looked at each other, puzzled. Willie spread his paws and made a face. "So she's crazy," he said. "She'll still taste good." Wanda looked intently at the naked girl, who was shouting at the top of her lungs; then, still holding her by the feet, carried her into the kitchen.
"My power line just burned out," Stevie's disembodied voice explained. "I'll try to rig something."
"You little bastard!" she cried. Wanda was tying her ankles together and hanging her by the rope from a hook in the kitchen; "Hey, you vatch vat you sayink!" said the she-wolf, and pulling an apple off a shelf, stuffed it into Vickie's mouth. "Dere--dat'll teach you some manners," she muttered as she took another cord and bound the girl's hands.
The little brunette, silenced by the apple, swung back and forth--how would Harry Hare get out of this? Wanda was slicing carrots and potatoes into a big pan; incredibly, she was singing the same song Willie had been: "Dey never had such a supper in deir lives, and the liddle ones chewed on the bones-oh."
On cue, three little cartoon wolves showed up. "Who's that, Mama?" one of them said.
"Shoo, shoo," said Wanda. "Go avay. Dat's our supper tonight. No snacks! Dere's plenty here for everybody!" Giggling, the little wolves surrounded the helpless woman, who was twisting and swaying on the hook as tears streamed from her eyes and splashed on the floor. "How're you gonna cook her, Mama?" another one wondered.
"In dis big pot of mine," she said. "Now go avay; don't bodder our supper." As they scurried out, one said, "I want the wishbone!"

Stevie was stumped. He didn't have a backup cable to the outdoor power source. He couldn't just unplug the computer; it was hooked up to an emergency generator that would run no matter what. Besides, that wouldn't bring Vickie back. He changed discs again, mesmerized as the female wolf on the screen took the writhing naked co-ed down from the wall and stuffed her, belly down, into the huge, black cauldron, her legs and arms folded under her; the wolfess put the lid on the pot, and shoved Vicki into the oven.

Vickie had never been so hot in her life; she was boiling sweat now. She had seen the rabbit pop its head through the stove top; maybe that would work. Rocking back and forth, she tried to knock the lid off the pot she was roasting in; a few sideways thrusts with her head and shoulders, and it fell off with a clang. Then she stiffened and tried to straighten up--owwww—
Wanda opened the stove door, wearing oven mitts and holding a baster. "Dat screwy rabbit tried dat, too," she said, then drew up some of Vickie's drippings from the bottom of the pan and squeezed them onto her back and buns. Replacing the lid, she slammed the door shut--as Vicki heard Willie call, "Ven's supper ready? I'm starvink!" She squirmed uncomfortably, straining at the ropes that chafed her wrists and ankles, her plump butt wriggling. The hot iron pot and her own simmering juices were searing her shins and forearms. If she could just get the damn apple out of her mouth, maybe she could untie her hands with her teeth. She tried to spit it out--no good; it was wedged in there tight—
The door opened again; the lid came off. Wanda was holding salt and pepper shakers, and sprinkled the seasonings liberally all over Vickie's reddening body. It stung her butthole and the soles of her feet; it was making her sneeze--That's it! That's how Harry got the apple out of his mouth! She held her breath, waiting to be returned to the oven; then, taking a few deep breaths, got the irritating grains into her nostrils. Aaaahhh-choo! The apple popped out; she immediately started picking at the cord holding her wrists—
And she felt the pan slide out of the oven; again the lid was removed. this time, it was Willie. Smiling from ear to furry ear. "Harry tried dat, too," he said, holding up the apple Vickie had expelled from her mouth. "Say 'ah'."
What could she do? "Aaahhh," the poor girl said weakly, looking helplessly up at him from the roasting pan, her big brown eyes round and sad. As Willie reinserted the apple in her mouth, she started sniffling, pools of tears in her eyes, still fixing that sad look at him. Let's try sympathy, she thought; she heard "Hearts and Flowers" being played somewhere on a violin. Willie stared at her, a look of comic strickeness on his face, and then started snuffling, too. As the tears continued to well up in her pleading eyes, running on either sides of the big apple, Willie broke down and started bawling, pulling a hankie from his back pocket and blowing his noise with a sound like a New Year's Eve party favor.
"It's dese onions," he finally said, grabbing some sliced Bermudas and scattering them on her bare skin. "Dey always do dat to me," he said tearfully, as he clamped the lid shut on the frantically writhing woman one last time.

Of course, they ate like cartoon characters, too. Willie took one of Vickie's shapely legs and, to the sound of a xylophone, inserted it into his mouth and removed a clean bone. Wanda popped one breast in the air; it dropped directly into her gaping mouth, bulging her neck as it passed through her throat and into her stomach. She closed her eyes, smiled and patted her tummy. The little ones tossed the other leg into the air and, baseball-bat style, put one paw over the other 'till they got to the foot; the littlest wolfling capped Vickie's toes, bit off her foot, and chewed ferociously, licking his chops as the meat and bone went down the hatch.
Willie and Wanda both stuck forks in Vickie's pelvis; each started taking chomps out of the nearest buttock. When they met at the crack, Willie gave Wanda a smooch. "Darlink, a vonderful supper!" he exclaimed, as she batted her eyes and turned away, smiling shyly. One of the little ones called out, "Make a wish!"
And superimposed over the picture of the Wolf family picking the last shreds of meat off Vicki's carcass on Stevie's terminal screen, the graphics read: GAME OVER.

Mrs. Brady got back late; seeing no one downstairs, she tromped up to the bedroom. "Where's Vicki?" she asked, distracted by the events of the club meeting.
"Uh...she had to leave; she said she had to meet someone," lied the nervous little boy.
"Oh, well," his mother said. "You're getting big enough to be able to care for yourself, aren't you? All those computers and everything. I'll have to thank Vickie's mother." She left; Stevie exhaled and wiped his brow. He looked at the TV; Willie Wolf and Harry Hare had their arms around each others' shoulders, like they were old buddies, and Willie's gut stuck out conspicuously. He raised a paw and, winking, made a circle with his thumb and forefinger.

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