Bouncy Women

By David Hallamshire

Planet Darsee has a problem! They have run out of fat women. Doomed to a path of extinction they send two men, an erotic dance troupe called the Slide Brothers, to planet Earth with the task of bringing back Big Bouncy Beautiful women.
Following closely behind is Starton, a member of the fascist Fashion Industry,
whose job it is to kill the Slide Brothers before they complete their mission.
And following behind him is Mr Brakkman, the Fashion Industry's professional hitman whose job it is to...

Well you get the idea.

Another manic, slapstick, satirical tale from David Hallamshire containing all the plot twists, hilarity, and big bouncy beautiful women you could wish for.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Feb 11, 2013
• ISBN: 9781291321463

Book preview

Bouncy Women

Bouncy Women

by

David Hallamshire

Copyright David Hallamshire 2013

All rights reserved.

ISBN: 978-1-291-32146-3

www.flemingpress.co.uk

Table of Contents

Bouncy Women

by

David Hallamshire

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE

EPILOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

Hilda Robson was used to seeing strange things.  She was, after all, a sprightly seventy one and had seen a lot of things in her life, strange and otherwise.  But she was pretty sure that this was the first time she'd ever seen people materialise out of thin air. She'd never seen that, even after a good session with the gin.

It was shortly after dawn on Saturday morning and the sun was only just beginning to get into the swing of things, so the light on the edge of the open park was not at it's best. But as she stood in the middle of some thick bushes, trying to flush out her dear little Jack Russell, Toby, she became aware of a twinkling shimmer of air only ten metres from her.  The air appeared to sparkle, like light reflecting off a stream.  This light then took on the more solid form of two very good looking young men.

Even though Mrs Robson was seventy one, her eyesight was remarkably good and she could see that the two men were of an unnatural beauty.  At first she had a fleeting notion that they may be angels and that she'd died peacefully in her sleep or something of that nature, but then she doubted that real Angels would be wearing extremely tight faded jeans, skin tight T-shirts and have an even sun tan.

The piercing eyes were about right for angels though, and the perfect athleticism of their bodies.  Both men had an impressive physique, without being over muscled and Hilda couldn't help noticing several bumps and curves in their tight jeans that looked decidedly unangelic.

She also doubted that angels would each be carrying a small holdall.  Both men had what looked like a small overnight bag, gripped tightly in one hand as if the means of transport they'd just used might rip it from them.

She decided that rather than make any movement, she would stay hidden in the covering of the thick bushes.  The men had just appeared out of the air and Mrs Robson had always taken the precautionary steps of never doing anything rash when encountering a strange phenomenon. Her third husband, God rest his soul, had been involved with Spiritualism and she was used to the odd phenomenon, usually in the form of Red Indians and Egyptian Pharaohs.  However, the encounters she'd had with people long dead were usually of the table tapping and 'Message to Uncle Arthur' type rather than actually seeing two very real looking people materialise out of nowhere.  She could hear them talking very quietly but was too far away to make out what they were saying.

***

You can open your eyes now, the taller of the two men said. We're here.

The shorter blond haired man opened his eyes and exhaled a long and heart felt sigh.

Wow! Scary or what?

The other man didn't reply.  They stood silently for a moment, trying to adjust to the fact that they'd just travelled across light years in only a few minutes.  They slowly shuffled around in a circle, taking in the full three hundred and sixty degree view, rotating on the spot as if they were not convinced the ground around them was solid.

They found themselves in the middle of a park. There were trees planted at intervals, small flower beds, bushes and ornamental gardens. In one direction they could see the buildings of the town, rising above the trees at the edge of the park. In the other direction the grassy land sloped steeply away and ended at a main road that ran next to the sea. The sea was a dark uninviting grey in the early morning light but the sky was already a hazy pale blue, promising to become a beautiful summer's day.

The dark haired man took all this in and then looked down at the grass. He stepped forward with one foot, gingerly testing it, as if it might give way under pressure.  Then he bent and touched it with the flat of his hand.

Just like Darsee grass, he said quietly.

His blond haired companion was looking out at the sea, frowning.

Are you sure we're in the right place? he said uncertainly. This looks like Estavab park, you know, on the Black Mountain coast.

The other man stood up and looked around him.

No. This is it. They did tell us Earth was a lot like Darsee.

Hmm, his friend shrugged.  Well, if you're sure.  What now?

Now we have to get a base camp.  We have to look for a thing called a B&B so we've got somewhere to stay.

Oh right. That's the Bed and Breakfast thing.

That's it.  And remember about using our new names. You're Paul. I'm George.

Right. Which way?

George nodded towards the buildings visible above the trees.

That way I suppose.

They strolled away towards the centre of the seaside resort of Westport, looking around them with the same amazed expressions as tourists wandering around New York.

***

The old lady glared at them from her hiding place in the bushes and watched as the tight jeans moved away from her.  Despite her age and the obvious signs of wear and tear, Mrs Robson had quick movements, almost sprightly, as if she were a bundle of nervous energy.  She bobbed her head up and down and side to side, peering through the gaps in the branches as her quarry moved away to the park gates.   Her grey curly hair moved too.  In her youth it had been bright red, a colour of flaming passion that perfectly matched Hilda Robson. It had framed her once pretty face in flouncing red curls that drove men crazy.  Even now, the twinkle in Mrs Robson's eye was more than just a trick of the light.

Hilda watched the men turn the corner and finally disappear from view.  She moved slowly out from the hiding place, staring at the empty street beyond the park gates.  She shook her head slowly, eyes wide, a half smile like a child in amazement.  She was about to race after them when she realised she still hadn't found her dog.

Toby! she called as she began to stalk the bushes.  Here!  Toby!

Most people witnessing what Hilda Robson had just seen would have been afraid, or at least deeply shocked, but Mrs Robson was a woman of vast experience.  She had either looked into, or personally encountered, things that others might find ridiculous or unbelievable.  Her interest in the paranormal had remained undiminished since her first experiments with a ouija board when she was only fifteen.  Over the years, she'd witnessed many séances; seen objects thrown across rooms by poltergeist activity; seen a real ghost; and had even seen a real U.F.O. -  though every other eye witness had tried to convince her it was only a hot air balloon. Her reaction therefore, on seeing two solid men materialise before her eyes, was not one of fear, but one of excited astonishment.

She found Toby and walked briskly towards the park gates.

Aliens! she whispered to Toby.  She narrowed her eyes thoughtfully. Nice bums too.

The two men didn't actually look very alien, she had to admit.  It wasn't as if they had green skin, or funny eyes or anything.  But people who materialise out of thin air aren't your normal human.  She was pretty sure of that.

***

Meanwhile: On planet Darsee.

The Parliamentary Building where the Cabinet meeting was being held was in Getisvar, the capital city of the Union of States.  The impressively furnished Cabinet room seated thirty people.  Twenty nine of them were already there, sitting along both sides of a long conference table, waiting for the Leader of The New Planetary Committee to arrive.

An expectant buzz filled the air as they spoke in hushed tones, excited by this sudden and secretly held meeting.

The Leader finally made an appearance.  He walked to his seat, placed a Top Secret folder on the table and sat down.  He was a very thin man, good looking, with silvery hair and with the charisma of a major political leader.

Thank you for attending this meeting at such short notice, he said.  What I have to say to you is of the utmost importance.  I hope you'll bear with me if I cover some aspects of our planet's history that you're familiar with, but I want you to clearly understand the seriousness of the situation.

He looked around and saw that he had their full attention.

"Before our planet split into East and West, everyone was ruled by the Nino Quin Fashion Industry.  The power he had, through his control of the media - enabled him to convince an entire planet that they were overweight, unhealthy and undesirable. For generations we were bombarded with images of unnaturally thin people and the 'ideal body' in his magazines, newspapers, holovision stations, and his Global Computer Net.

"It was the fascist political organisation, known as the Fashion Industy, or F.I., under the leadership of Nino Quin, who flooded the planet with images of the 'ideal body'.  And even when Nino Quin died, the Fashion Industry continued flooding the planet with their propaganda for the next hundred and fifty years....Until the great war ended their influence, at least in this half of the planet.

And thank God for that, someone muttered with feeling.

The Leader looked up and nodded at the Internal Affairs Minister.

True. But, the problem is....for a period of a hundred and fifty years our women were bombarded with images of an unattainable 'Ideal Body'.  The war ended the madness of the F.I., here in the Union of States, but the population hasn't recovered.

We got thin, is what you're saying, the Defence Secretary said impatiently.  So where does this lead?

The Leader took a sip of water and looked around the room.

The point is this, he continued.  Although we in the East are now free of the F.I. and its influences, we have achieved this freedom too late.  Because of the damage already done, there's been a steady and irreversible decline in the population.  Because of their lack of fat, only one in four of our females now develops mature ovaries.  Only one in four women can now successfully have children.  That is the problem.  Our Statisticians have calculated that this downward trend in the population is now irreversible.

The members of the Cabinet looked on in shock.  The Chancellor was the first to speak.

Are you saying that we're becoming extinct?

The Leader nodded gravely.

That's exactly what I'm saying.

What can we do?  If the whole planet has the same problem? the Employment Minister asked. She was a woman of thirty and like the other women around the table, was skeletal thin, as her mother had been, and the female generations before her.

The Leader continued.  A member of the Special Services has been able to get hold of a Particle Transmitter. It was stolen from F.I. Space Control.  We now have our own particle transmitter.

The Cabinet members began to smile and murmur, but in a rather nervous way.   It was now possible to transmit objects and people from one place to another, even across light years, using the Particle Transmitter.

The Leader looked round and nodded.

The people of this planet are dying from lack of fat!  Despite all our efforts, our scientists have been unable to isolate the fat gene so there is nothing...absolutely nothing we can do to re-generate healthy normal women, as they used to be, using the genetic materials available on this planet. We have bred ourselves into a course of extinction because of this ludicrous pursuit of the 'ideal body'.  But we are going to change the suicidal course of our planet's history. We are going to start our own breeding programme.  We are going to recreate women in their true image, as they used to be more than two hundred years ago.

The Leader held up his hand to stop the flood of questions everyone was wanting to ask.

We are going to simply out-breed the Alliance of Western Countries!  All we have to do is successfully reproduce, and wait, and the Alliance will fall to bits as we watch.  Now you obviously want to know how we can do this.  With the Particle Transmitter we can do this, because we have recently sent two people to another planet, where there are humans like us, but where the genetic make-up of the females is as it used to be. The men we have sent will bring back normal healthy women to Darsee, and we will start a new generation.

That's a big responsibility, the Internal Affairs Minister said.  Who have you sent?  Army or Special Forces?

The Leader smiled.

The Slide Brothers.

There was a moment's stunned silence and then the room erupted in shouts of amazement, laughter and ridicule.  When the Leader managed to settle them down, the Defence Secretary spoke for all the cabinet.

You can't be serious!  The Slide Brothers?

Why not?

Because they're male strippers!  That's why!

They are erotic dancers, the Leader conceded. Yes. But that doesn't...

And they're idiots.

The Leader's face reddened.

We've sent them to another planet to bring back women!  Should we have sent someone who is ugly?  Or should we have sent two of the most famous and best looking men on the planet?

The Leader stood up and thumped the table with each sentence.

Ladies and gentlemen!  We want women with breasts!

A raucous shout went up from everyone in the room.

We want women with huge hips! the Leader shouted.

Another cheer followed.

And where are we going to find these Mothers of our new generations? the Leader said. The Cabinet became silent. They looked at each other.   O.K.  Where were they going to find these Mothers of our new generation?

Planet Earth!

CHAPTER TWO

Planet Earth!

At the age of only twenty two, Liz Collins was Westport's chief U.F.O. Investigator.  Actually, she was Westport's only U.F.O. Investigator, but even without the competition, she'd not had a phone call or report of a sighting for three years now. The last sighting she'd been given was when a strange light had been seen in the sky over the Amusement Pier at the end of Westport beach. It turned out to be a distress flare sent up by three drunken fishermen on a day trip from Halifax.

However, this lack of response didn't dampen her enthusiasm and she still avidly read books, interviews with people abducted by aliens and any other material she could get her hands on concerning extra-terrestrial encounters.

Her job as a librarian had been useful for her hobby because there was a wealth of information at her fingertips, but she still yearned for a genuine sighting even if it was only to justify the advert she'd put in the Yellow Pages.  She was secretly proud of the advert but had never told anyone at work about it in case they made fun of her. U.F.O Investigations!  Call Liz Collins!.   But what the people at work thought about her hobby was of no importance anymore, because she was now an ex-librarian, having been cutback by the Westport Council two months ago.

It wasn't just that she was unemployed that depressed her.  Being unemployed was a practical problem.  No, the big issue was that she had really and genuinely been made Redundant: superfluous to needs; of no use; without purpose.  She was Unwanted and it was that, more than anything, that had made her cry for three days afterwards.

As she sat now, slumped back on the settee in her cosy flat, she tried to rally herself for another empty day of being Unwanted.  She looked at the shopping list:  Pay the gas, buy food, buy clothes.  She thought about the clothes she needed.  The expense was bad enough, given that she was now unemployed, but just the act of buying clothes was a depressing experience for Liz. She was what she would describe on a good day as 'cuddly'.  On a bad day she described herself as a 'fat lump of lard'.

The truth of the matter was that Liz was actually an attractive lady.  She had a pleasant smile, a healthy vibrant complexion, curly chestnut brown hair that shone in the right light, and a caring nature that had made her one of the most popular members of the library staff.  Her shy manner, and tendency to talk quietly was a reflection of her own lack of self confidence, brought about almost entirely by her size.  She wasn't hugely over-weight, but she'd always had a tendency to be on the plump side, ever since she was twelve, which was why, Liz reasoned, boyfriends had been kept pretty much in the background.  Had she been a little less shy at school, and more aware of the mind mangling effects of testosterone on pubescent boys, Liz would have found that there were plenty of young men only too eager to make her acquaintance behind the bicycle sheds.

She nibbled on a biscuit (fifty calories) and turned the sound down on the television. Another advert.  She didn't need to hear the sound. She knew it by heart.

Just one nutritional Thin-Slim milk shake for lunch and I lost...blah blah.

She went to the small kitchen to make herself a cup of hot chocolate with two sugars (one million calories).

***

Hilda Robson looked at the man behind the police station desk and managed to hold back the string of swear words that immediately came to mind.  She took a long deep breath and tried to smile pleasantly.

No.  I have not been drinking, she said calmly.  She wound the dog lead round her hand one turn and yanked Toby back to stop him trying to wander off.  I saw what I saw.

Yes Madam, the young policeman said.  Hilda was used to policemen looking young. Policemen had looked young for the last forty years, but this one appeared to have run away from school and stolen a policeman's uniform into the bargain. But the thing is, he continued, we can't really do anything to follow up your reported sighting.  You see, these people...

Aliens.

These...people...were human looking you say.

Yes.

And they weren't actually doing anything of an illegal nature, like shooting people with ray guns or asking people to take them to their leader or....

Look, you! Hilda said as she stood to her full five feet three. She pointed a thin finger at the young man's face and then quickly lowered it again when she realised she had the dog lead in that hand and Toby was hovering above the floor making gargling noises.

I thought I was doing my duty as a good citizen and all I get is abuse!

Just calm down love.,

And don't call me love.

I'm just saying that there isn't really anything I can do.

Typical! Hilda shouted.  She turned to appeal to the other people waiting in the front office of Westport police station. Typical!

The wino, the two