The triumphant shrill shout of Andee Handyman jolted Poo-gofferson wide awake. The pudgy nekroklown sat up just in time to see his friend Dr. Lubricious Slugg go down under a perfect wave of mad Handies, who had formed their big head-hands into fists and were repeatedly bowing over Dr. Slugg, fist-butting him again and again.

  Poo-Go made a dash towards the mob, but the fishing line that tied him to the fleshtree caught him with a jerk. He spun around and untied the line. Then the nekroklown dove into the Handie mob and began mumbling continuously under his breath, touching first one and then another of the crowd swarming around him, and each time he touched an Handie, the Handie disappeared.

  The Handies stopped beating Dr. Slugg. Those in front began to tread on the toes of the ones in back, in their anxiety to get away from the thaumaturgic arts of the Spij?kenian nekroklown. While twenty had vanished in as many seconds, the rest ran howling to the woods. Poo-Go ran to Dr. Slugg and helped him upright.

  "You saved my life, old fellow," cried the nekroklown, giving the large slug an impulsive hug.

  "And you saved mine," gasped the slug, as soon as he had breath enough to gasp. "Where did they all go?"

  "To Honkytown," explained the nekroklown, winking at Dr. Slugg, "They’re in Honkytown and scaring the life out of Kraka, I'll wager. Remember the thaumaturgical verse that brought Tiny Tirdly and I there? Well, every time an Handie came near I said it!”

  "Marvelous!" sighed Dr. Slugg. "How did you think of that?"

  "I had to," replied Poo-go modestly. "You see, when there's nothing else to do I think. Do you suppose the other Handies will come back?"

  Dr. Slugg shook his head. "Not in a hundred years," he gurgled. "And now that they are good and frightened let's all get some sleep." The humanoid-sized gastropod was bruised and sore from the fight, and so tired he could not keep his eyes open another minute. Stretching himself beside the snoring Tiny Tirdly, who had not even heard the battle, he fell instantly into a heavy slumber. Poo-go, lying on the other side of the little boy, was soon enjoying the rest of the dream he had begun earlier. He dreamed about large veiny otters playing poker.

  When the tinkling yellow stars had faded out and the pink, peach-shaped sun began to rise in the cold gray mist of early morning, our three friends woke up, huddled together and tried to think what to do.

  "First, let's get away from the edge," shuddered Dr. Slugg. Cutting the fishing lines that connected him to the fleshtree, Dr. Slugg set Tiny Tirdly on Poo-go's shoulders and they moved slowly in the half darkness toward the center of the skyle.

  For an hour there was not a sound. Then the noise of someone sawing wood came distinctly through the still air. As they advanced the sawing grew louder and louder and, peering around a large fleshtree, they saw a creature flopped against a chocolate-colored fleshrock, snoring at a great rate. It was a stinkingo, a bipedal avian-class yokai with overactive sweat glands and terrible body odor. While there were still some on his wings most of his feathers had fallen off, leaving much of his gammon-colored body bare. Their wrinkly, veiny, pockmarked skin was covered with hundreds of tiny hard scabs and gooey open sores from where their feathers had come out.

  As our friends watched the bird-shaped creature opened one eye, farted, and immediately fell to snoring again. Poo-Go scratched his pointy ear and then burst into a loud peal of laughter, which he could not have helped had he died the next minute. The avian-class yokai stopped snoring instantly, and opened both eyes.

  "What do you mean by waking me when I was sound asleep," it slurred crossly.

  "A great many sounds of sleep," giggled Poo-go, winking at the singular creature.

  "I thought someone was chainsawing a zombie," said Dr. Slugg.

  "Did you?" The bird looked rather proud. He stood up on his wide, three-toed feet, above each of which were three rings of sick-looking pinkish flesh growing around each felt-textured orange leg. "I'm the loudest snorer in the sky," it announced beamingly.

  "Why are you in Handieland?" giggled Poo-go, as the creature continued to look at them.

  "I’m a wanderer," said the bird with a triumphant little hop. More of his wing feathers floated to the ground. "The Handies grow some sweet, sweet roachberries so I’ve been hanging out here for a few weeks. But why are you here?"

  "Because we’re unlucky, I guess," giggled the nekroklown ruefully. The four characters introduced themselves. The mangy bird was named Qrt Vogelkot, and he was very interested in the travelers’ tale.

  "Maybe you know a way to escape from Handieland," suggested Dr. Slugg.

  "I know one thing," Vogelkot sighed tremulously, nestling close to Poo-go. "This dude is beautiful, beau-ti-ful!" He rolled his eyes rapturously and waggled his felt-textured orange eyebrows (Vogelkot’s great-grandmother was a puppet-class yokai and his meaty body retained some of her puppety traits like his felt-skinned beak, eyebrows, and legs).

  Vogelkot cocked his head to one side and looked at Poo-go. "You're beautiful, beautifully beautiful.” Dr. Slugg and Tiny Tirdly had all they could do to keep from laughing, but seeing that the stinkingo was serious, Poo-Go patted him awkwardly on the head and giggled:

  "If you don’t want my beautifulness splattered to gore when I get thrown off the skyland tell us a way to escape."

  "There's only one way for you to leave," said the stinkingo, "and that is in the Zedarcoaster."

  "What is it?" choked Poo-go.

  "Where is it?" roared Dr. Slugg.

  "When is it?" ejaculated Tiny Tirdly.

  "It’s a flying roller coaster, tied to a wrinklenut fleshtree near the handquarters. But we'll have to wait till the Handies go to poop," replied Vogelkot. And while the three listened in amazement the stinkingo told them a bit about life on the skyle of Handieland. Each morning the entire population went to the edge of the skyland, bent over the edge and pooped, and nothing was allowed to interrupt their pooping. For three hours they pooped their poops as loudly as they could, and Andee Handyman, because Mandee Handyman could poop harder and poop louder than any of the rest, had been made leader.

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  "You'll hear them at it soon," said the stinkingo, "and that's the best time for you to leave. Afternoons they fish and evenings they fight. Feces, fish and fight- that's the program here."

  "We get it," gurgled Dr. Slugg impatiently. "Lead us to the Zedarcoaster, old fellow!"

  "All right," chirped Vogelkot obligingly, "but step- or ooze- softly and do just as I tell you." They began to walk. Vogelkot gazed gooily at Poo-Go and said “That clown suit really flatters you. I think I could love you!" Poo-Go blushed.

  "Do you think there any nice Handies?" asked Tiny Tirdly with a little sigh.

  "Well," said Vogelkot, bending his neck down so he could rub his orange felt-textured beak with his smelly wing. "I heard there was once one good Handie, but I've forgotten his name, and the others treated him so unkindly that he's hidden himself in a cave somewhere. But they do say if he ever becomes king, the Handies will all have to reform and be nice."

  As Tiny Tirdly stumbled along the rocky beach he fell to thinking about this good Handie and wishing he might see him before they left the skyland. Poo-go was so cheered at the thought of leaving Handieland that every few seconds he sprang into the air or somersaulted over Dr. Slugg.

  By this time they were so near the handquarters that Vogelkot held up a wing for silence. Hiding behind a huge rock, they watched as hundreds of Handies hurried off for their morning off-the-edge poop.

  "As soon as you hear an ear-full of pooping noise run for that third wrinklenut-tree," said Vogelkot. He pointed out the fleshtree with his scabby wing and the three watchers waited anxiously for the signal. Soon there was not an Handie in sight and a few seconds later a perfect explosion of spluttery, splattery defecating noises rent the air, studded with grunts and groans. It was, as Poo-go explained afterward, a mammoth-ear-full of noise, for every Handie on the skyle was pooping prodigiously- and in many cases, painfully- at once.

  As soon as they had recovered from the shock, Poo-go, Tiny Tirdly and Dr. Slugg rushed toward the fleshtree. Vogelkot had flown ahead and perched on a pockmarked branch. He was already calling down directions when they reached it.

  From the veiny top branch of the fleshtree the Zedarcoaster was tugging merrily at the long large intestine that bound it. The Zedarcoaster was indeed a floating, red-and-yellow, three-car roller coaster. Following Vogelkot's instructions, Poo-go climbed to the top of the wrinklenut fleshtree and, hanging on to the intestine, managed to bring the coaster down a bit and jump into the first car. Vogelkot flew out of the tree, used his feet to pick up Tiny Tirdly, and deposited the orphan in the second car. When the bird sat next to the clown the trio’s combined weight brought the coaster down still further.

  "Hurry! Hurry!" croaked Vogelkot, flapping his wings warningly. The stinkingo’s pink feathers were flying off now, leaving fresh yellow-goo-oozing red sores in their stead, "There's a Handie!" And sure enough, a tardy Handie was staring at them in astonishment from a few yards away. With an ear splitting squall, he rushed off to the pooping place to tell the others, and soon rushing toward them in tumbling waves of fury were an angry mob of screaming Handies, all awkwardly pulling up their puffy shorts as they ran. In a despairing frenzy, Dr. Slugg lept into the air and into the third and final car.

  There was not a minute to lose, for the mad Handies were already surrounding the fleshtree. The stinkingo chomped through the intestine tether with his beak and up sailed the Zedarcoaster like a balloon released from its string. Up, up, up they went, till the wild screams of the Handies could no longer be heard. The Zedarcoaster’s metal wheels whirled around continuously on an invisible track, so that the noise, when the coaster flew swiftly, was terrific. Up, up, and 'round and 'round, plunging now this way and now that, till Poo-go, Tiny Tirdly and Dr. Slugg were too shaken and dizzy to know or care what was happening.

  But Qrt Vogelkot, more used to flying than the others, kept his head. The stinkingo seized a long lever that swung loosely to and fro in the front of the coaster. He had never been in the Zedarcoaster before, but something told him that the lever must guide the movements of the strange vehicle. Sure enough, as soon as he wrapped his wings of it, the darting about stopped and it flew quite steadily.

  "Are we still going up?" giggled Poo-go from his seat in the first car next to Qrt, without opening his eyes. In the second car Tiny Tirdly threw up all over his black T-shirt and black jeans, and in the rear the car of the coaster Dr. Slugg heaved over the side.

  "Yes, but there's some way to bring it down," chirped Vogelkot. "Have a look. I know how to fly myself, but I don't know how to fly a Zedarcoaster."

  Poo-go opened his eyes and unsteadily peered down at the control panel. Next to the lever there was a tiny steering wheel, and below that there was a row of buttons and the first button said "Slower." Poo-go hastily pushed this one and the coaster’s metal wheels immediately slackened their frantic whirling and quieted to a low rumble.

  While Vogelkot held the lever Poo-go investigated their strange flying machine’s controls still further. The front car turned with the steering wheel and honked loudly when you pushed the button marked "Blow."

  “Tiny Tirdly, you come help steer," giggled Poo-Go. So, while Vogelkot grasped the lever to hold the coaster steady, Tiny Tirdly climbed into the first car, sat on the pudgy nekroklown’s lap, and turned the wheel, now to the left and now to the right, and in less than an hour, they were floating slowly over a quaint city.

  “We'll just fly over this town and land in one of those fields," giggled Poo-go uneasily. He was not sure they wouldn't be impaled on a flagpole, or run over some of the inhabitants, if they attempted to land the coaster in the city itself. As it was they flew quite a distance before the nekroklown located all the buttons necessary to make a landing. The Zedarcoaster came to earth so fast and with such a bounce that they all flew up like rubber balls and landed on the ground, while the coaster continued to fly and bump around the field until Poo-Go and Vogelkot managed to tie it to a fleshtree with it’s remaining length of intestine tether.

  "And now what?" wheezed Vogelkot.

  "Breakfast!" wheezed Dr. Slugg, rolling out of the huge hair bush he had landed in. "Aren't you hungry, Tiny Tirdly?"

  Tiny Tirdly nodded. "But where are we going to get it?" the orphan asked, looking rather puzzled.

  "If we look carefully, we'll be sure to find something," answered the slug easily.

  "Let's make it a game," giggled Poo-go. Although he was sad that he had left behind his beloved slug costume he was determined to keep the vibe light. "Now then, all ready for a breakfast hunt. I'll take this field, Qrt can take the air and Tiny Tirdly and Lubey may have the woods."

  Dr. Slugg went poking his head in bushes and looking around fleshtrees in a businesslike manner, and Tiny Tirdly began to look too. There were plenty of fetid, unchewable mushrooms in the woods, and for a time Tiny Tirdly found nothing else. At last, pushing through a tangle of pulsating pinkish veiny vines, the little boy found himself standing under a stout little tree that rattled curiously when the wind passed through its branches. It was full of tinned Spork. The cans had their own key so you didn’t need an opener.

  While they all ate Tiny Tirdly chattered quite gaily to Dr. Slugg and Vogelkot, but Poo-go chewed in silence. Poo-go was thinking about Master Kraka. After the valiant way Lubricious had defended them from the Handies, the nekroklown could not bear the idea of betraying his new friend. Better a thousand times turn to a poop sculpture than have the kind-hearted Dr. Slugg fall into the merciless hands of Kraka.

  "Perhaps the old Honkytowner's ring will not work any way," thought Poo-go uncomfortably. "Perhaps it was just a threat to frighten us." If they could just reach this wonderful Schmegma City and tell their story to Tremorroid Titiana, everything would turn out happily.

  "I think we should just head straight ahead," Dr. Slugg gurgled uncertainly. “Maybe we’ll see some landmark that will tell us where we are.”

  "All right," giggled the nekroklown and, calling to Tiny Tirdly, started for the Zedarcoaster, which was jerking at its intestine as if it was anxious to be off. But half way he stopped. Poo-go looked down at his hands with a shudder. "I'm brown," he muttered unhappily. He tried a light double somersault and an even worse thing happened. Halfway around he found himself unable to move, and there he stood on his head, powerless to straighten his arms or legs.

  There was no doubt about it, Kraka used his thaumaturgic ring and turned Poo-Go into a petrified poo statue.