Part Six – The Light At The End Of The Tunnel

 by Zapped!

   This last chapter will focus on the destiny of the Goodwin family and their vacation guest. This is the last “planned” chapter of the series, and I hope it has been enjoyable.   

It was a blast writing the holding tank scenes in this series. (There aren’t enough of those stories out there, as far as I’m concerned!)  In the first “Resident Evil” movie, there’s a scene where a blonde technician in a white lab coat is seen floating eerily, within a flooded underground room. That single scene was the main seed that inspired this portion of the tale.  Some other sources that inspired me to write this chapter were stories like Dmuk’s “Button, Button, Which Button?” from the Medusa Chronicles, as well as a story called “Suspended” that was written by Barbanne.


Previously at The Sideshow:

   After their unexpected beating by a scrawny teenager, the Grimly boys had finally managed to gather up their broken and battered bodies. Elmer had no choice but to rush his own son, Weasel, to the emergency room (The redneck would later be diagnosed with a severe concussion and a broken jaw!)

   Several hours had passed, and Lester (along with Wendell’s assistance) had been working hard throughout the night, just preparing their latest catches. Now running short on supplies, the men ride to the next town over, to visit the 24-hour “Wally Mart” store; leaving Lester’s only son, Junior, an opportunity to save his new-found friend . . . 


A glimmer of hope . . .

   Junior Grimly was looking around his paw-paw’s barn for something that would break through ¼ inch thick glass. The young boy’s family of goons would all be back from town soon, and he was desperate to free his newfound friend from the goopy confinement he’d been immersed in.

   Finding what appeared to be an axle-rod from a junked automobile, the hillbilly boy steps up to the base of the glass tube that contains Joey’s floating body. Bracing himself into a batter’s stance, the kid takes his first swing . . .


. . . The metal axle rings within the boy’s hands, but the glass cylinder remains intact. The strong-minded kid takes a second swing; this one slightly harder.


. . . Once again the container remained unaffected. The boy remains resolute and takes several more swings in succession.  There is a growing white mark on the glass surface.

*BASH!* . . . *BASH!* . . . *BASH!* . . . *BASH!*

 . . . Junior’s forearms and hands begin cramping up, but he’s determined to succeed.

*BASH!* . . . *BASH!* . . . *BASH!* . . . *BASH!*

. . . The glass chamber begins to spider-web in the area that Junior’s focused on. Now in pain, the heroic boy continues the violent strikes - intent on freeing his friend!

*BASH!* . . . *BASH!* . . . *BASH!* . . . *BASH!*

. . . The spider-web of cracks begin to open up and expand into gaps, allowing the gel-like preservative to ooze out of them. With several more well-placed whacks, a large section of the chamber wall cracks through and is forced open all at once by the pressure from within. The preservative solution gushes out in lumpy surges and spills out over the surface of the barn floor, making the wood slippery.

   The exhausted boy drops the heavy axle off to the side. The kid pauses in an attempt to catch his breath, but he knew he didn’t have much time now. As he had seen on his father’s black and white TV once, Junior quickly purges a hypodermic needle into the air, before injecting the shot of adrenalin directly into the chest of his helpless friend . . .

   On the inside, Joey would barely feel the needle prick his skin and pierce his heart:

             . . . As I began to gain consciousness, I realized that I was somehow frozen in place. My body felt numb all over, and I would liken the sensation to having your foot or even a leg fall asleep on you - only this was my entire body!  Although my vision was blurred, I could make out a faint light beyond my eyelids. I struggled to move an arm, a hand . . . even a stupid finger! . . . But I found any such actions impossible . . . It was as if my nervous system and brain had somehow been derailed, leaving my body in a state of paralysis!

            . . . And then there was this weird tingling sensation that was passing through me. It started in my chest and pumped throughout my entire rigid body. It pulsed through my veins, like a current traveling through copper wire; it made the features in my face twitch; my toes curl, and it tickled my scrotum all at once . . . I’m not entirely sure of what they call it, but I believe the term is aroused . . . Anyway, that was when I realized that I was standing inside some sort of containment chamber. There was this warm, “gel-like” substance that was flowing out from around my bottom, and the pleasant sensation of it lapping up against my crotch, was soon replaced by cool air.   . . . The first thing that really hit me was the putrid smell of the substance, which burned my nose.

   On the outside, Junior anxiously watched in hope that Joey had survived. The kid’s eyes burned, and his nose began to run from the powerful fumes, as he watched the remaining formaldehyde mixture drain from around the teenager. His friend’s naked body stood inside the glass chamber; still coated with a thick layer of green slime that had been in the process of preserving him.

. . . It was a short moment later, when Joey’s thawing body began to fall forward. Junior catches his friend rather clumsily beneath the arms, and the pair fell backwards to the barn floor! The heroic boy quickly slides out from underneath the weight of his friend, and then stands up to wait for a reaction . . .

   Joey was attempting to open his eyes, but he was met by a blinding light. The room wasn’t particularly bright, but his eyes were irritated by the formaldehyde that had seeped into them. The cold air burned the victim’s skin, and threatened to overtake his already exhausted body. Before he fully gained consciousness, the teenager thought he heard a semi-familiar voice . . .

   “Are . . . Are ya’ll ok?” the voice asked.

   Joey curls up on the ground in a fetal position and starts coughing up some of the preservatives from his lungs. Then, looking up blindly into the semi-darkness, the boy briefly attempts to identify the stranger’s voice. After a moment, the teenager finally asks, “Unh! . . . W-w-who is that?”

   “It’s Junior… Grimly . . . The one with the I-pods.”

   Joey coughs up some more preservative before he questions, “You mean from the sideshow?”

   “Yeah . . . Ya’ll actually remember me?” asks Junior excitedly.

   “Yeah, sure I do,” replies Joey before coughing up some more. He then adds, “I don’t think you ever told me your name.”

   The voice replies, “Well my name’s Junior.”

“W-well Junior . . .where am I? . . . What happened?”   . . . The teenager was now sitting up and rubbing out the irritation within his eyes. Joey began to complain, “I think I’ve been permanently blinded.”

   Junior grabs a bucket from nearby and quickly runs off to fill it with spring water. When he returns, Joey remains in the same spot and still rubbing the dull pain that throbbed within his eyelids. The kid dips a rag into the bucket and then graciously rubs the fresh water over his friend’s eyes . . .

   “It’s 'bout time ya’ll woke up,” said the voice. “After ya’ll shot my Aunt Gertrude, and after that hurtin' ya’ll laid on my cousin Weasel, I was surprised they didn’t just kill you outright!”

   “W-what’re you talking about?”

“That’s a question fer another time. We best focus on the present, till we know 'yer good n' safe,” instructed the voice.

   As Joey’s vision came into focus he saw a boy in front of him, and it was indeed the same deformed-looking kid from the sideshow. The teenager took the time to look around, and the best way to describe it was: Very weird!

. . . The cordoned-off room he was sitting in was surrounded by a wall of clear plastic sheeting. There were clumps of hay scattered about, and the faint rays of dawn’s light were filtering through the gaps of the boards that made up the structure.   . . . Joey surmises, Hmm, I must be in some sort of a barn or something?   . . . Even though the area was poorly lit, it wasn’t long before the teenager noticed the other tall glass chambers nearby. Apparently, he’d just come out of one, judging by the broken glass of the tube directly before him . . .

   With a noted uncertainty in his voice, Joey asks, “W-w-what is this place?”

   The hillbilly boy strangely replies, “This is where my paw-paw preserves the bodies.”

   It was at this point that Joey somehow manages to stand himself up. The teenager felt a sudden chill throughout his body, and as he glances downward, his panic increases when he realizes that he’s naked. Self-conscious of his state of undress, the boy cups his hands over his privates in an attempt to cover an early morning chubby! The humiliated young man looks around in the near darkness in a desperate search for his clothing, but found nothing . . .

   Sensing his friend’s embarrassment, Junior quickly grabs an old towel from a nearby workbench and offers it to the young man.

   Joey quickly fashions a makeshift loincloth to cover his genitals and then looks up at his rescuer with red cheeks and a mortified expression!

   Junior looks up from the barn floor and assures, “It’s ok; I’ve seen naked people before. I see them all the time when I help my paw-paw prepare them.”

   “Prepare them for what?” asks Joey with suspicion.

   Junior steps over to a control panel and flips a light switch upward.   . . . At first nothing happened. Then there was a flicker from behind the surface of the chamber, along with a barely audible electric buzzing. As the glass slowly illuminated from its faint glow, it began to reveal the floating form of a young and completely naked female!

   Joey cautiously stepped forward. The boy’s fingertips lightly touch the chilly glass chamber for a brief moment, before his eyes fully widened in shocked recognition. It was at that exact moment that he had realized that the body trapped within was his twin sister Nicole!

. . . A jolt of shuddering coldness passed through Joey’s body, as he began to shake with unimaginable fright!

   From just behind the horror-stricken boy, Junior instructs, “Ya’ll need to stay calm now, Joey.

   Nicole floated effortlessly inside the tank; her naked body suspended in a pale green substance. Her eyes were closed and she didn’t offer the slightest hint of movement - not even the gentle rise and fall of her breath. She could have been dead, for all her brother knew.    . . . Joey could see that his sister was as developed as was fitting for their age. However, placed within this setting and seen bobbing around defenselessly, the girl surely appeared much more frailer now.

   “Oh my God, what have they done to you, sis?” asks the boy in a disheartening tone.

. . . But Nikki didn’t answer. She just floated there helplessly in limbo; her arms somewhat folded across her chest and with her blonde hair swaying to and fro in a magnificent halo. Even as the boy stood there in dead silence, more air bubbles floated up from the bottom of the tank to caress his sister’s helpless pink body.

   “W-what happened to her?” Joey asks, not quite sure that he wants to hear the answer.

  “Yore sis has been pickled in that stuff for about nine hours now, and will eventually be fully plasticized so that she’s suitable for display - jest like the others . . .”

   “What others?” asks Joey with suspicion.

   That’s when Junior flipped two more switches. A pair of illuminated glass chambers soon flicker to life, just beside the first . . .

   Inside the second chamber was the faint outline of another naked human. The figure was indistinct at first; but when the gelatinous matter swirled and thinned abruptly, a face soon drifted into view . . .

It was the beautiful visage of Courtney West!

   Joey felt the blood suddenly drain from his face and his stomach felt like it was about to turn inside out . . .There, suspended before him, was his sister’s best friend and his own schoolboy crush!

   Courtney’s nubile, nude body floated in thick gelatinous substance; her dark silky hair now drifted around all green and wispy, while her arms drifted freely away from her sides. The young woman’s eyes were wide open and staring, and her mouth hung slackly. The teen’s expression permanently displayed the petrified terror of her final active moments, until she too had finally surrendered to the venom and was settled within the gooey confinement of her womb-like enclosure!

   Joey swallowed hard, as he eyed-up Courtney’s floating body. The brunette was 5’9, with legs that were long and well-muscled, while her body was easily kept in tone by years of high school athletics. The girl’s breasts looked like a pair of ripened oranges that were firm and up-sloped, and her admirer couldn’t help but appreciate them. Even Courtney’s sensuous crimson lips were now forever moistened by the mysterious preservative that surrounded and entombed her. Joey soon considered:

. . . My Courtney was still quite beautiful, even now. But I couldn’t help but feel that she was somehow tainted. Had these loathsome hillbillies finally robbed this sweet innocent girl of her virtue? . . . Come to think of it: I had spent my own period in stasis; hovering helplessly near death, in a tube like these that Nikki and Courtney now floated in. What sorts of things had these hicks done to me while I was in my own comatose state?

   The teenager continued to watch as Courtney floated gracefully about. At one point, her breasts came in contact with the glass surface, causing them to smear against the enclosure. The captive beauty stared out blindly at the boy, as if she were waiting for her night-in-shining-armor to come and rescue her. The pale teenager eventually turns away in shame, as he’s no longer able to hold her haunting gaze . . .

   Stepping up to the last of the illuminated chambers, Joey sees another familiar form floating into view. It was the unfortunate woman that the teenager had shot in his own defense! The sight of 60-year-old Gertrude Wood’s naked body was horribly affecting and yet oddly instructive. Sure the boy had seen naked female bodies before: mostly through incidental run-ins with his siblings in the bathrooms of their home, as well as in the adult magazines that occasionally got passed from one horny teenager to the next. However, those women were supple and sexy.   . . .What Joey saw in front of him, was a first-hand example of nature’s weakening effect on the human body with only the simple passage of time.  Mrs. Wood’s body looked well worn and tired. Her wrinkled skin reminded him of his baseball glove, while her pubic region was overgrown with thick, partially gray hair. The old woman had large breasts, yet they looked like two partially deflated balloons. In the spacious valley between them was a crudely sewn pattern of stitches that marked where the teenager had shot and fatally wounded the old lady.

   At this point, Joey didn’t know what stunned him the most: the sight of Gertrude’s nakedness; or the stitches that reminded him of what he had done . . . (The boy shakes off another chill that suddenly bolts through his body).

   Joey walks back to where Courtney and Nikki floated, before turning to his rescuer to ask, “Can’t we do something to help them at least?”

   Junior lowers his head as if in shame. In a calm and lowered voice, the boy reveals, “The red light on the panel of each o' them chambers is actually an indicator that they’re finished.  Your light was still green; I checked.”

   The freed captive looks at the indicator lights of his sister’s and Courtney’s boggy enclosures to see that they had, in fact, turned red. Joey angrily questions, “What do you mean, they’re finished?”

   Junior explains, “Well I don’t have time ta' go in'ta partic'lars, but they’re finished . . . Done . . . Complete. Plasticized. 'Nother words, there’s no turning 'em back.”

   Joey Goodwin looked around, the wave of fear and despair continuing to spread over him.   . . . This just couldn’t be happening. This has to be just some terrible nightmare, and I’m going to wake up in my own bed and find that it was all in my imagination! The teenager then looks back at Nikki’s chamber and questions out loud, “How could they do this to my sister? . . . The boy then nods his head in the direction of where Courtney’s naked body floated and includes, “Or even to her?”

. . . Joey caught himself staring at Courtney once again. It was so odd to see the poor girl exposed like that; just floating there in suspended animation. She was like a vision from a dream: faintly hovering just beyond the boy’s reach; a beautiful damsel in obvious distress. Joey began to wonder if he was nothing more than a passing moment in her memory.    …Had these hillbillies regrettably erased Courtney’s memory of him forever?

. . . That would be the most tragic of all, thought the boy to himself.

   Suddenly, there was a tug a Joey’s shoulder, which abruptly awoke him from his reflective trance.

   Junior warns, “We have to go now . . . My paw-paw and the others gonna back any minute!  The won’t like seein’ you up’n walkin round none.”

   With tears welling up in his eyes, Joey looked back for a moment at the tank holding his sister. The boy had finally realized that there was nothing he could do for either of the girls now. Time was running short and if he wanted to live to tell the authorities of this horrible nightmare, making a run for it was the only way out!

   Joey confesses, “I don’t know how I’m going to explain all of this to the rest of my family.”

   “Uh . . . I don’t think that will be much of a concern for them,” assures the hillbilly kid.

   Joey gets a troubled expression and questions, “What do you mean by that?” . . . The boy then presses, “Where are they, Junior? . . . Tell me!”

   The boy reluctantly motions to his friend to follow him. The pair walked toward a hanging barn door and Junior rolls it open. On the other side was a short hallway, which led to a second door that was made of steel. Once the second door was pushed open, it revealed some sort of room beyond. This area was dark at first, but then Junior flipped on a light switch and the area illuminated to a reddish hue.

   At first, Joey thought it was some sort of dark room like for developing photographs. But once the boy entered the space beyond, he was in for another surprise . . .


More unexpected sightings . . .

   Although sparsely lit by the odd red lighting, the room was still illuminated enough for Joey to notice that the area had no outside windows. There were overhead pipes that rattled and hummed from the cool air-conditioning, and the climate of the room was noticeably chilly. The left-hand wall was lined with a row of naked mannequins that stood in odd poses upon pedestals, while the right-hand wall was similarly lined with more of the same. Also on the right-hand side were several tanks the glowed ominously from within . . .

   The teenager’s eyes curiously scanned the anatomically correct torsos of the naked mannequins with great interest. They were all female and came molded complete with realistic nipples, meticulously carved musculature, and with well-detailed genital areas.

   At first, Joey found their nudity a little embarrassing and just a bit unsettling . . .

   The boy asks with a note of intrigue, “Now what is this place?”

   Junior answers, “This here is what my pappy calls The Museum of Natural Beauties.”

   Joey quickly surmises: So this is the secret my dad was hiding!   . . . The boy bashfully approaches the first of the strange, waxwork-like exhibits. The figure was standing on a mini-stage and was posed with one hand on her cocked hip and the other lost in her head full of lustrous and curly black hair. She looked to be of Latin ancestry and had this deeply tanned skin that gleamed beneath the red lights. She had these awesome boobies that looked so firm, that the boy couldn’t help but reach out to feel one . . .

   “Look, but don’t touch,” cautions his escort.

   Joey quickly withdrew his hand, but continued to look at her figure in awe. His eyes glide down along her toned abs, and then down between her hips, to where her dark pubic triangle was!

. . . It was kinda odd and I hate to admit it, but I’ve sneaked peeks under the dresses at mannequins before, and I don’t ever remember seeing any of those having hair “down there!” . . . And then there was the little tattoo of a cracked heart on her lower abdomen. I couldn’t help but wonder what that was all about?   . . . She just stood there and stared at me with her big dark eyes, like she was about to yell at me for looking at her naked parts or something!
. . . This was totally weird . . .

   The two walked among the figures, as if walking through a church full of religious statues. There were so many of them, and their eyes almost seemed to stare out at them wherever they moved! Joey soon contemplates:

. . . Even though they were just mannequins, I could tell from their bowed heads, slumped postures and even the way they turned their hands and bent their fingers, that they had a certain “body language”   . . . It was almost like I could actually feel their loneliness and despair!   . . . I looked at a redhead with huge boobies, and then a Chinese girl that had a nice body just like Courtney’s! . . . Anyway, I must have been getting a little too carried away, because Junior yanked me by the arm and told me he had something important that he had to show me.

   We passed these water tanks on the other side of the aisle, and there were more mannequins that floated inside. I didn’t look at them for long, because they reminded me too much of my sister and Courtney . . . But I did manage to finally see the mermaid. She looked totally real, as she wavered there behind the glass. She was bare from the waist up, and looked like a regular naked lady. But her bottom half was covered with scales like a fish, and she had these flippers for her feet. I was just about to ask where they found her, when Junior grabbed me by the arm again . . .

   “Come on Joey!” . . . But his pal doesn’t answer. He’s too preoccupied with the sight of the makeshift mermaid. The hillbilly boy urges, “I said lets go . . . We don’t have that much time!”

*Sigh* . . . Joey furrows an eyebrow and gets an annoyed look.   …My first chance to see a real naked mermaid up close and I can’t even enjoy it!    . . . Now drooping his head, the teenager follows his friend further down the aisle . . .

   It was just a few steps beyond, when Junior stopped his friend short from where another figure stood above a stuffed tiger. The boy exhales deeply before warning, “Now ya' have ta' promise me ya’ll won’t git mad at me, and that ya’ll will jest take a quick look an then leave!”

Joey:  “What do you mean get mad? . . . Why would I get mad at you?”

   Junior cautions, “I’m bein' serious Joe, we aint got that much time before my pappy comes back!”

   With that said, Junior leads his friend to where the next figure stood. Joey could tell just from the side profile and the costume alone, that it was going to be a female lion tamer that was ruling over her stuffed tiger. The character stood posed with a chair extended out in front of her for protection, while one of her glovelette-covered hands was raised to crack her leather whip!   . . . But as the face of the figure came into view, the boy lets out a gasp in shock! His big blue eyes suddenly go wide at the sight of his mother, who stood there stiffly posed and attired in the very risqué ringmaster costume!

“Oh no! . . . Oh-my-God! . . . Mom!” exclaims Joey, before waving a hand in front of her unblinking eyes. “Mom…?”

. . . Mrs. Goodwin made no movement of recognition, but eyes her son steadily.

   Obviously, it wasn’t the boy’s mother, but a well-done recreation of the woman! The racy outfit she was wearing included a grand tuxedo jacket with gold-tasseled epaulets on the shoulders and tuxedo tails that hung down from the back. Her graying blonde hair was pulled tightly into a bun and capped off with a black top hat that was cocked sexily to the side. She wore spiked, high-heeled boots that were black in color, and reached up to the middle of her creamy thighs. But the real eye-opener was the tight black corset that forced her full breasts up and outward; creating a copious display of cleavage for all the world to see!

. . . As my unbelieving eyes skimmed over the restrictive undergarment, I briefly notice the cording detail that criss-crossed its way up over her midsection. However, once again I found my attention drifting back to the figure’s impressive cleavage, which reminded me of two ripe melons crushed up against each other! It was fairly obvious that this type of foundation was more about decadence than support, and it looked like it would most likely squeeze the life right out of a real living woman!

   As sexy as the display piece was, one legitimate question still remained. Why would somebody create such an outrageous effigy of my mother? . . . I mean it looked just like her, despite the erotic apparel . . . I soon found myself studying the figure’s facial features more closely.   . . . Her face looked airbrushed like a model’s, flawlessly perfect and pleasantly fresh. If it weren’t for the waxy sheen and faultless beauty I would have surely sworn it was really her if I didn’t know any better.    . . . I mean - the mannequin even had the same overbite!

“W-w-why would they make a wax figure of my mom?” asks Joey with suspicion.

   Junior briefly looks at his feet, as if with a sense of shame. The boy tries to choose his words carefully, but there wasn’t any easy way to go about this! That was when he finally looked up rather hesitantly to reveal, “This actually is 'yer mom, Joey . . . She’s been completely plasticized.”

   The teenager’s heart immediately sinks in horror at the revelation!

. . . Racked with anguish, Joey can’t find the words to ask at first . . . As tears well up in his eyes, the boy finally presses, “W-w-what do you mean she’s been plasticized?”

   “Yeah, she started out in one o' them glass tubes like you an' yore sis, then my paw posed her like that before she done hardened up. He even painted her face all nice n' purty, jest like all the others.  Now she’s been preserved fo’ever more, as this har display piece,     . . . Heck Joey, I sorta thought ye already knew,” confesses his friend. It was at that point that Junior further exposes, “You’ll prob'ly recognize the tigress too . . .”

   With all his attention distracted by the chesty ringmaster, the boy had somehow managed to miss the exotic predator that was posed just bellow them!

   Joey looked down at a curvy female form. She wore a skin-tight fitted coat of orange fur that featured exotic black stripes that blended into an all-white under section. The figure was posed in a “doggy-style” position; the back curved deeply to draw attention to its arched hindquarters and raised tail. One puffy paw was raised up and outward, as if to playfully strike out at its master.   . . . When the boy’s eyes turned their focus to the tigress’s head, he sees that it has the face of Amanda!

. . . To find that his sister has met the same grisly fate as his mother was far more than the kid could take. As his heart sinks deeper into terror, Joey shouts out a harrowing, 


. . . The traumatized boy immediately turns his head to throw up in the narrow aisle way!

   Junior comes to the aid of the young man, by rubbing his back and asking, “Are ya’ll goin' ta' be ok?”

   Joey repeatedly spits out the remnants of puke that had risen in his mouth. He then turns and spouts, “Do I look like I’m gonna' be ok? . . . I mean my dad is sitting at the bottom of a swamp somewhere; Nikki and Courtney are floating naked in glass tanks; my mom has been changed into some plastic mannequin; and my sister Amanda has been turned into a fucking tiger!”

   “Well I’m very sorry about all that, Joe, but thar warn’t nothing I could do fer them!” apologizes his friend. “This is what they would'a done to you too, if n' I didn’t bust ya’ll out o' that thar tank! . . . Jest look around yerself, it’s what they do wit' all of 'em!”

Now completely breaking down, Joey turns to give his friend an appreciative hug . . .

. . . As I broke away from my rescuer, I looked around at all the naked bodies with their sightlessly staring eyes.   . . . Every innocent victim that the Grimly family had ever encountered now stood posed as frozen playthings; placed here as mere display trophies for a bunch of perverted hillbillies to enjoy at their very own leisure . . . and there were so many trophies!

   I got down on one knee right beside my sister. Her head was covered in a tiger-like hood that had two fuzzy ears that begged to be scratched. Although her face retained her human color, she now had these realistic white cat whiskers that somehow managed to sprout from her face. She looked up at me with her piercing dark eyes and that little black button nose. I hated to admit it, but Amanda looked so ridiculously adorable, that I couldn’t help but laugh as tears streamed down my cheeks.  

   It was then, that Joey reached out to lovingly pet the spine of the tigress, (or where it was believed to be anyway) . . . From there, his hand moved down over the sleek profile of his sister’s stripes, accidentally brushing across the swell of her breast, which hung beneath in her form-fitting tiger suit. His fingers reach up to gently stroke the area beneath her chin, before they touch the pointed tips of her snarling teeth . . .

   “How did they get the fangs on there?” inquires the boy.

   “Those are actually bear teeth,” confesses Junior. He then goes on to explain, “They done drilled out the centers and then permanently affixed 'em over 'yer sister’s teeth with crazy-glue.”

   Joey soon reflects:

. . . I could almost feel my sister’s humiliation, as the tears continued to run from my eyes. Yet, Amanda looked so powerful in her new form, like a true predator in the wild.   . . . And her color was so amazing, with the way the blacks and whites perfectly fit the curves of her sleek body. I looked back to admire her raised hind quarters, where her curved backside truly reminded me of a cat that was ready to pounce on its unsuspecting prey . . . I was so caught up in the illusion at this point, that I had forgotten that my hand was still stroking the fine orange fur . . . The fur that covered the plasticized body of my sister.

   Junior taps his friend on the shoulder and warns, “We really should be going now . . .”

   Joey nods his head in understanding. The boy places a delicate kiss on his sister’s forehead, and then stands up to face his mother . . .

   “I guess this means goodbye mom,” the teen sobs, before hugging his frozen parent.

   When his friend starts crying into Mrs. Goodwin’s bosom, with his arms wrapped tightly around her, Junior’s own eyes start misting over. It was a beautiful moment, and one that would haunt him forever . . .

   That was when a voice called out in the distance . . .

“Junior? . . . Where ya at, son?”

   The frightened kid immediately yanks at his friend’s arm and orders, “Come on!

“Junior, where the hell ya hidin' boy?” questions the voice, now in the suspension room next door.   . . . After a brief pause, Lester’s voice is heard to angrily yell out, “Criminey – What the holy hell happened in here? . . . That lil' son-of-a-bitch!”  

. . . A moment later, a pair of heavy footsteps began running towards the back door to the museum, which the boys had mistakenly left open!

. . . That’s when Junior pointed in the direction of the front door to the museum. He had luckily remembered to unlock the door from the outside, just prior to rescuing his friend!

“Run for it Joey! . . . Ruuuuun!”

   Joey burst from the museum doors and ran from his pursuers just as fast as he could. The early morning fog lessened visibility and the woods ahead were hardly visible at 5:30am, but the boy could still make out the trees. As he looked towards the treetops, the kid knows that it will be light out soon. He also knew that the forest would be thick with pine trees; its bed lined with undergrowth of weeds and brush - both of which could slow his trackers down quite considerably! . . . It would be far too risky to follow the dirt road on foot, so it would be here, in the deep and darkened woods, that the teen would make his daring escape!

   A second later, Lester crashes through the museum doors in hot pursuit. With both of his sizeable hands now cupped to his mouth, the old man yells, “Where in the hell do ya' think 'yer goin' ya' little shit? . . . Git on back here fer 'yer moma n' sisters’ sakes!”

   The big man turns in Wendell’s direction, (now unloading fresh supplies out of the shiny Land Cruiser), and shouts, “We got us a runner! . . . Release the dogs!”

   Joey ran far into the woods, with tree branches and thorn bushes scratching and gouging at his bare feet and body. He could hear more than one voice yelling for him now, as several dogs began barking in pursuit with their masters.   . . . The poor kid stumbles and falls at one point, but quickly scrambles to get back up. The desperate teenager knows that if he’s going to survive, he must push himself onward! 

 . . . Even though he’s completely exhausted, Joey endures; running at full speed until his heart feels as if it will beat clear out of his chest. His breathing is labored, and he sees the rhythm of his pulse flashing within his eyesight. . . . If he doesn’t let up soon, he’ll surely collapse!   . . . But the boy continues his mad dash through the piney woods; searching his surroundings in desperation for a good hiding place. Only then, could he rest for a few minutes to regain his bearings…

   Then, without any warning, Joey suddenly trips over a rotten log! - The teenager falls head first into a pile of leaves, which then collapse into a deep sinkhole. Landing with a pronounced thud, the boy has the breath knocked clear out of him.   . . . (This proved to be a blessing in disguise, as it was the only thing that prevented him from screaming out any obscenities!)

   Quickly acting on his recent misfortune, Joey pulls the mound of leaves and other assorted debris down around him for a quick disguise. “Holy shit!” the boy chuckles beneath his breath before holding his chest in pain.   . . . With his face now flush and his breathing labored, Joey rests his head back against the dirt. It wouldn’t be long before the fugitive unknowingly passed out from pain and exhaustion . . .

* * * * * *

The home stretch . . .

   It was two hours later, when Joey Goodwin re-opened his eyes. The boy lie there completely still for a bit, trying to recognize his surroundings . . .

. . . Have you ever had a dream so vivid that you spend much of the day confirming reality? I always hated those kinds of dreams . . . (Well except for when they involved Courtney!) But unfortunately, this dream wasn’t a dream.   . . . It was a total nightmare that actually was my reality: the suspended bodies that floated in tanks; the naked plasticized women that stood stiffly posed in the Grimly’s personal museum - These were all visions that I’d surely never forget! 

   Although cold and damp from a light spring rain that had started to fall, Joey knew it was time to get moving. The teenager climbs up out of the sinkhole and brushes his filthy body off, shaking his head in disgust at his make-shift underwear. And then, with his eyes wincing at the bright Georgia sky, the Goodwin boy begins to walk onward.   

It would be almost forty minutes later, when the boy gasps and finally comes to a stop . . .

   Joey finally hunches over, now trying to catch his breath for a moment.    . . . By this point, his feet were bleeding from several cuts, along with the deep scrapes along his legs.  But as the boy raises his head, he can see that the woods ahead were thinning out! The young man cracks a slight smile, before pressing on.   . . . In a short moment, the teenager would run barefoot and near naked out onto old route five:

. . . I began walking along the edge of the asphalt, which was covered with small rocks, broken pieces of glass and other bits of debris. My feet were so far gone at this point, that I just didn’t care how much they hurt anymore. I was so hungry, so cold and so exhausted from the whole ordeal, that I just walked along totally oblivious to my surroundings. For a brief moment, I curiously take notice of the leftover suspension goo that’s still squishing around in between my ass crack and my nether region. Even after all these hours, the mysterious substance still retained a lot of stickiness, and I oddly find myself wondering if I will ever get it completely off of me . . .

   It was at this point, that I just happen to look up to notice a pick up truck that was approaching in the distance. From deep within, I suddenly found the courage and strength to walk out to the middle of the road to flag the truck down.   . . . My eyes began to well up with tears once again, but they were tears of joy at the simple thought of being found. I began to wave excitedly at the fast approaching vehicle, and actually forgot for just a moment that I was standing there half-naked.   . . . The truck was so close now, that I could actually see the man’s face, and he was Mexican . . . That’s right; it would be a courteous Mexican fellow that would stop to pick me up, and become an instant media sensation . . . One that would be seen on every TV channel and spread across the front of every newspaper in the nation!   . . . But he was coming at me too fast . . . He had better slow down, or he would run me clear over!   Then suddenly, his horn bellows as if to warn me to get out of his way . . .


   A voice yells out, “GET DE HELL OUTTA’ DE ROAD, FREAK!”

   - The truck wavered off to the shoulder to avoid hitting the boy, and leaves him standing in a cloud of dust and tumbling pebbles. The guy never left off the gas, and in fact Joey never even saw the brake lights come on!

. . . That’s when I officially lost all hope. I simply dragged my tired feet to the side of the road and sat down Indian style. I had no noble thoughts in my head, no expectations to live up to, or anything . . . I just sat there staring at the ground and casually tossing rocks off to the side.   . . . I’m not sure how long I was there, or even how many cars had passed by, as I sorted my stones. But I was so caught up in the moment that I somehow managed to miss the Hatchapee County police car that had pulled up alongside of me! The Sheriff squawks his siren to finally get my attention . . .

“ . . . I asked what ya' were doin' thar son?”

   Joey staggers back a bit, as he gets up from the roadside. A great deal of the boy’s remaining energy has been drained from his run through the woods, so he clutches the front fender of the patrol car in agony . . .

   “What in the hell happened ta' you boy?”

   “They’re trying to hill me officer . . . (panting) . . . They got my mom, and they killed my dad! . . . (panting some more) . . . They took my sisters, and they have Courtney too!”

   The sheriff makes a suspicious look and questions, “Whose got yer folks, boy?”

   “Those hillbilly rednecks with the circus sideshow!”

Sheriff:  “Are you on drugs boy? . . . 'Cause I’m tellin' ya’ll right now: we don’t

tolerate no drugs here in Hatchapee County!”

   “No sir; I don’t take any drugs and I’m telling you the truth!” assures the kid, before he insists, “They’re turning innocent people into naked statues up there! . . . I seen it with my own two eyes, I swear!

Sheriff:  “Alright son . . . Why don’t cha get in the back o' this here caw, and I’ll go n' see what nonsense is all about.”

   The teenager was somewhat reluctant at first, but at the insistence of the sheriff, he quickly climbed in the back of the patrol car.

   As the white and blue Ford sedan gets up to speed, the sheriff inquires, “Now ya’ll said this place was some sort of a circus?”

   “Yeah, they had live snakes and turtles and stuff . . . It was pretty neat, but then our van broke down,” Joey admits. The boy then goes on to explain, “This scary guy named Wendell picked us up and let us stay at his cabins . . . But then my mom, my two sister’s and this girl named Courtney . . . they all disappeared! And then I saw them hanging on these hooks, and then they were floating naked in tanks, and there were all these naked statues . . . They had turned my mom into a lion tamer, and my sister Amanda got turned into this tiger! . . . They were gonna turn me into a statue too, but this young kid named Junior helped me get away . . . The hillbillies were chasing me through the woods with their dogs!”

   The sheriff looks up in the rearview mirror at the boy and says, “Turned 'yer sister into a tiger, eh? . . . That sounds like quite a wild story ya’ll got thar, son!”

   It was then that Sheriff Woods picked up the mic to his radio and spoke:

*SSSKRSH* …“Tow-man or Lazy-eye, you got a read on me?” … *SSSKRSH*

. . . The man stares at his radio while waiting in silence for a reply.

*SSSKRSH* …“Tow-man, Lazy-eye; are ya’ll out thar? …Come on.” … *SSSKRSH*

. . . The radio remains silent, before a grungy feedback noise emits from the other end.

*ssskrsh* …“This is Lazy-eye, over”…*ssskrsh*

 *SSSKRSH* …“I jest picked me up some half-nekid city kid on the side of old Rt.5 …

Ya’ll know anythin' bout that?” *SSSKRSH*

*ssskrsh* …“You got him? . . . We been lookin' all over our woods fer him!”…*ssskrsh*

*SSSKRSH*…“Yeah, he’s right here in ma back seat, all safe n' sound!”… *SSSKRSH*

*ssskrsh* …“Alright Elwood, bring him on by if ya’ll could.”…*ssskrsh*

*SSSKRSH*…“Will do Uncle Lester . . . Over!”… *SSSKRSH*

   Just as the sheriff is hanging up his mic, the patrol car slows to make a left-hand turn at a rusty old school bus. As the Ford rumbles up the dusty country road, Joey looks out the side window at the all-too-familiar surroundings . . .

   “W-w-wait, where are you taking me?”

   The sheriff replies, “We’ll jest go fer a quick ride up the road, sos I can hear ma Uncle Lester’s side o' the story.”

   “No! . . . No you don’t understand! I won’t go back!” warns Joey in a defiant tone. The boy reaches for the door handle to bail, but finds there isn’t one!

   Sheriff Woods looks up in the rearview mirror and questions, “Now jest where ya' think 'yer goin' son? . . . This heeyah’s a police-caw boy, thar aint no handles back thar!”

   “No! . . . No I beg of you sheriff,” the boy pleas, “You can’t take me back there!”

   The sheriff looks back to see a flash of fear in Joey’s eyes. He casually leans over the seat-back and inquires, “So tell me son; what does 'yer mama and 'yer sisters look like anyway?… Heh-heh-heh-heh!”

* * * * * *



   Wendell Woods sits in his parlor, watching the six o’clock news from his treasured recliner. There was an overstuffed couch that was just off to his right, with doilies hanging over its armrests, and with heavy wood trim around its worn edges. Seated in her chosen spot upon that couch was Gertrude Woods, his beloved wife. Mrs. Woods sat with her hooked needle in hand, and with a ball of yarn at her side. The woman is contentedly knitting a blanket that she would never seem to finish.  Mr. Woods looks over at his wife to admire her pleasant smile and knows that she’ll always be doing what she loved best; crocheting blankets.

   Standing at either side of the couch were two lamps; each standing a little over four feet tall, with dingy white shades. Now these were no ordinary lamps, mind you. Making up the bases at either end were kneeling identical twin figures of a boy and a girl; their faces looked like those of a doll’s; beautifully painted and perfectly sweet. At first glance they would appear to be made of carefully molded plastic or even wax.   . . . Both of the figures were quite charming, and yet too alarmingly realistic to be thoroughly enjoyed.

. . . Well by anybody other than their owner, that is.

   The girl had these aqua blue eyes, along with this blonde, silk-spun hair that featured pigtails with big red bows. She was attired in a dark blue “Navy-style” sailor suit, complete with a double row of white piping that ran around the edges. The little outfit had such classic touches as a flared out collar, matching white cuffs with little gold anchors for buttons and a short pleated skirt that fanned out at mid-thigh. On her legs were white knee-highs, while a pair of black shoes that were impeccably polished were on her feet. To finish off the nautical look, a “rolled” red neckerchief with a square knot tied in its middle, overhangs evenly, at the V-neck opening of her chest.

   The boy was dressed in the same fashion, only in navy blue shorts while a white “Dixie-cup style” sailor’s cap sat on his head. Both were identically posed with their knees pressed tightly together and with their bodies perfectly straight. Each had one arm straight to their side, while the other raised a lampshade and bulb upward to provide light. Although their faces held the slightest hint of a smile, both stared ahead with a far-away look in their eyes. It was a stare that was so far removed that it suggested that they might be reflecting back to a better time and place . . .

  Because of their costumes and poses, both figures looked much younger than they actually had been in real life, before their fateful trip to see the sideshow.

   Suddenly, there is a jingle from the bells upon the entry door of the store. This is followed by a female voice that unexpectedly calls out, “Hello? . . . Is anybody here?”

   “Oh!” spouts Wendell, as he slowly rises up from his dilapidated chair. The man pauses briefly to pat the boy statue on the shoulder and says, “It looks like we might have us some company thar, Joseph! . . . What'cha think about that?”

. . . The male statue made no movement from the old man’s contact, but continues to stare eerily ahead, while obediently holding up his light and shade.

   Wendell shuffles out from his living room, to the front of the store, anxious to see who has stopped by. As he enters the counter area, he’s surprised to see a delightful couple studying a poster for Elmer Grimly’s Sideshow.    . . . Mr. Woods could tell right away that pair were newlyweds just by the way they were laughing, teasing and holding hands with one another. The hillbilly watched in silence as the two continued kissing and letting their free hands curiously roam across each other’s backsides. They only stopped this frisky activity when they finally noticed that someone was in their presence.

   The pretty female gets a startled look and quickly pulls herself together, as her groom gets an annoyed look . . .

   “Oh hey there old-timer,” greets the male. “I was hoping you could gas us up and maybe check the oil real quick.”

   “Sure I could,” answers the old man before asking, “Where we headed?”

   The excited couple reply that they are on their way to Daytona Beach for their honeymoon. They go on to explain that their honeymoon was going to last for four weeks, and that after a week-long stay in Daytona, they were going to the Bahamas for the remainder of their vacation. The one island they were going to be staying on was pretty much deserted.  . . . The bride, (who introduces herself as Daisy), mentions how her husband was quite excited to take her snorkeling near some reefs, for their very first time.

   Wendell comments, “Well now that sounds awfully excitin' . . . although I was never one ta' be surrounded by water though!”   . . . The hillbilly then suggests, “Ya’ll might better save yerselves the money, n' head on up the road here ta' ma brother-in-law’s sideshow! . . . Heck, he’s got all kinds of critters pickled away up there that ya’ll can look at! . . . In fact; I got me some cabins I rent out here in the back, if ya’ll are interested.”

   “That’s ok, pops,” declines the groom, before reminding, “…The gas?”

   “Oh sure…sure,” replies the old man. Wendell glances at the bride who politely smiles back, in return . . .

   The onlooker notices the woman’s pretty blue eyes and flawless white smile. She wore her blonde hair up, with its curly tendrils framing her lovely face, and there was still a lovely white daisy that was affixed to the side.  The woman was very animated when she talked, and moved her hands a lot to express what she was saying. The hillbilly couldn’t help but notice something else, too: Daisy’s massive breasts were tightly squeezed into a low-cut spring blouse that surely looked like it was at least a size too small. Wendell watched quite unashamedly as the blonde’s quick movements cause her tits to bulge and jiggle beneath her top!

. . . As I continued ta' stare at this Daisy gal, I felt a familiar throbbing in ma' balls that told me I needed ta' shoot a big ole' load all over this young woman’s body. The more I saw her full and moist lips part, the more I wanted to take it with my cock! . . . I new that they was newlyweds from the first moment when I saw their affection towards one another, but did that mean she was still a virgin? . . . Surely a purdy gal like her couldn’t be! …Anyway, the question haunted me, as I walked on out ta' fill the tank o' their car, (which by the way, was festooned with the typical honeymoon graffiti and tin cans that was tied to the back bumper).

   As the creepy owner exit’s the store, the bride complains, “Did you see the way that old perve was staring at my chest? . . . That was disgusting!”

   The groom replies, “Well, you do have an awesome rack, babe!” . . . (The guy teasingly grabs hold of her boobs and gives them a good squeeze).

   Daisy lets out a brief laugh, before shrugging the advance off. The embarrassed woman then continues, “I mean he was seriously drooling! . . . If his mouth stayed open any longer, I think his jaw would have permanently locked in place.    . . . It was like he was undressing me with his eyes, or something!”

   “Hey now; that’s my job!” reminds the groom. The young man then steps behind the woman and wraps his arms around his lover’s tight stomach, before kissing her playfully on the tender spot of her neck.

   The bride enjoys it at first, but then brushes the guy’s face away with her hand. “Do you mind? . . . Can’t you even wait until Daytona?” questions the woman. “Ya' know; I’m beginning to think that all men are pigs, regardless of their age.” 

   Her lover corrects her and says, “That may very well be. But the difference is: I like to hear you moan . . . That guy would ask you to squeal like a pig for him!”

   The woman gasps at the comment and punches her man in the stomach. “I can’t believe you just said that!”

   Wendell Woods was never particularly good at reading (since he never made it beyond the fourth grade). But as he saw “Don’t do anything we wouldn’t do!” scribbled across the trunk of the car, the old man couldn’t help but let out a chuckle. That’s when the redneck reached into his front pocket to dig out his little bag of sugar and mumbled, “Oh we’ll jest have ta' see 'bout that one now! . . . Heh-heh-heh!”


   Meanwhile, just a few miles up yonder and behind the locked doors of the Museum of Natural Beauties, Lester Grimly was putting the finishing touches on one of his latest additions . . .

   Every job the undertaker took on, he accomplished with great care and with an equal amount of pride. Lester clearly loved his occupation; his enthusiasm and dedication to his efforts clearly showed in the end results. This was a man who didn’t like to be rushed; he not only had a knack for detail and an eye for beauty, but he also took great pleasure in the time well spent with his work. Some might consider the man a fanatic, but the fifty-two-year-old would surely shrug off such criticisms (if they were actually ever to occur, that is).

   The preoccupied mortician was humming a tune to himself, as he patiently glued a set of stunning eyelashes to his subject’s eyelids. Those lashes were long and thick, and further enhanced the beauty of his model’s light brown eyes, (which didn’t blink, even with his fingers up so uncomfortably close).   . . . Once finished, Lester slides his thumb through the hole in his hand-held palette and begins swirling around a mixture of silver and pink paint. Once satisfied with the tone, the self-proclaimed “artiste” takes his brush and paints his subject’s nails to a metallic-pink color.

   It wasn’t long before the man was mixing up a different color and adding a light amount of rouge to the figure’s cheeks and nipples, (not too much, for this one was surely a na'tral beauty). This addition was simply to give the gal a little color, and it was a technique that the mortician had used on all of his girls, since the very beginning.

   “Whenever I see pink, it reminds me of ya’ll,” Grimly confesses to his muted guest, as he changes back to the pink and silver splotches on his palette. The man begins to swirl around the colors to achieve yet another desirable hue. Lester raises his fine-tipped brush to his model’s lips, before taking care to paint them as well. (The female’s parted lips soon turn from plain, to a frosted pink color, which only seems to enhance their suppleness). His subject’s head was turned back at an angle, making the position of the brush awkward within his hand. However, Lester knew that in the end, the results would surely be worth the minor discomfort.

    After a short while, Lester sets his palette off to the side and wipes his sweaty brow off on his shirtsleeve. The aging man takes a few steps back from his work, before expelling a profound sigh of relief. “Well, that should jest about do it thar, sweetie,” he said while looking on in admiration.

. . . She was quite beautiful . . . near perfect, actually. Her face glowed with the vibrancy of youth, while her hair had this healthy sheen that I always adored on a woman. Beneath the glossy coating, her stomach was as flat as a diving board; the defined muscle tone perfectly captured. Her solidified breasts were as round and fresh as a pair of large oranges. I couldn’t help but reach out and cradle one of those orbs in ma left hand, just ta' preciate the ripeness.   . . . I almost missed the pliancy of her breasts, but I 'spose that was one o' the downfalls of the plasticization process.

   Before the evil embalmer stood the nude, motionless form of Courtney West. The young woman was placed on a low-lying dais and had been lovingly posed; her sexy legs were in a braced stance with her pink pumps parted exactly two feet from one another; her torso was bent slightly forward at the hips. This forward leaning position not only made the teen’s perky breasts jut forward, but it also caused her ass to arch up quite invitingly, in a pleasing presentation! Her keeper had placed one hand to rest on her curvy waist, while the other arm was bent upward at the elbow. The hand at the end of this arm was strategically placed in a palm up position, with only the index finger extended to its fullest length. (The rest of the fingers gradually curl inward in succession).

   The adorable brunette had her hair thrown off to one side, and was looking back over her shoulder with her bedroom eyes. On the teenager’s face was a sweet “come-hither” expression that teasingly beckons her viewer.

   As Lester lights up a cigarette, he stares at the female’s fine posterior with a noted sense of fondness. The man blows out a steady line of smoke; the hazy stream now tumbling out over the satin-smooth surface of Courtney’s arched ass. The mortician ran his hand over the plastified curves of the bum, enjoying how the taut, cool shape felt beneath his leathery palm. He then pats her round little bottom in approval, before confirming out loud, “Nice and compact . . .”

. . . The female’s glazed eyes stared through him, failing to recognize her keeper’s presence, let alone his touch.

   Lester began circling her, assessing his handiwork, gazing at her, seeing Courtney for more than just the mere statue that she had become.

. . . This young gal had one helluva sexy ass. But from the first time I saw the lil' tease, I could tell right away that she was fully aware of her power over men. That’s why I posed her like this right char. An let me tell ye; if ya’ll was standin' in ma shoes right now, an' ye could see her perty lil' face lookin' back over her shoulder with that hungry look in her eyes . . . Ya’ll would be runnin' yer hands over her plastic tushie jest as well!  . . . Hell, every time I let ma hands brush against her hairy little split, I jest wanted ta' grab that precious ass and fuck her tight lil' pussy fer all it was worth . . . Well, if n' it wasn’t plasticized, that is . . .

   The hillbilly stroked the young woman’s hair, before he leans in close to place his lips to the female’s ear. That’s when the bastard whispered, “. . . Aint that right sweetie?”

Courtney didn’t move or speak.

   Lester steps away for a brief moment, taking his smoke cloud with him. The fellow reaches into a nearby suitcase and begins sorting through a stack of the girl’s underwear. It seemed that they were all the same brand, and only differed by style and color. The man finds the color that he was looking for, and then returns to his subject.

   While giving the gal a quick once-over, Lester comments, “I think ye got a pair o' undies in every color o' the rainbow -Heh-heh-heh! . . . But thar was only one color that I was lookin' fer, n' I’m glad ya’ll had a spare . . . Well, with me cuttin' up the other pair.”

   It was a that point that Lester unfolded the mysterious item within his hands. As one final touch, the mortician hangs a pair of pink-colored, low-rise panties from the tip of Courtney’s extended finger. (The word “PINK” was actually printed in bold black letters across the back).

   A smoldering cigarette still dangles from Lester Grimly’s lips; the curling smoke forces him to squint his eyes. In one swift move, the redneck drops the butt to the ground and he extinguishes it with a twist of his boot. Then, in his gravelly sounding voice, the man reflects out loud: 

“. . . Ya' know Pink, it’s awfully funny 'bout the things ye remember. -Heh-heh-heh!”


The Show Must Go On….?

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