BigBug
Chapter XV

“You need Viagra.”

Seamus was drowning in the bed. There was a great weight, warm, moist and smelling of Amsterdam zoo, blobbed out next to him, pushing him to one side and threatening to engulf him. The creature was smothering him and his head wasn’t right. He struggled and forced himself up from the drugged out narco- deep to awake and stared up bleary sticky eyed from his pillow at the apparition taking up most of his bed. A musty busty grandmother, her breath stinking of Vodka, sporting a broad squat Slav head, much bigger than average -normal, distinctly a full Edam cheese shape, and she sitting up unabashed looking down at him with a disapproving frowning red slash for a mouth. Her mascara was glaring turquoise. Her dazzling smudged scarlet lipstick hurt Seamus’s sore eyes and addled his distraught senses. It was it was ukkie yukkie mukki lippi! Lip paint designed to distract from the coarse rough face. It was a cosmetic con job. It was an adornment designed to dismay, a degenerate diversion. A horrible great nose, embedded with peppercorny- warts, was splattered across and had colonized one third the surface area of the broad face. It did not disguise or distract from the overall ugliness of this woman. Seamus’s mouth was dry and his tongue a scrap of rough sandpaper stuck to the roof of his mouth. He had this bizarre thought on the side that two fat sausages could quite easily fit into this woman’s nostrils and she could do a bit of street theatre in Dam Square on Queens Day while selling hotdogs on the side. The big brown spiky nipples on this great beast of a woman’s pendulous breasts were pointing at him like a pair of menacing Spanish fighting bull’s horns. Two schoolgirl plaits of brittle hair, once blonde, now going grey, fell down her breasts and both tied off with dainty green girlie ladybird speckled ribbons. She sported a great bush of grey pubic hair, a thorny mop, that started spreading at the sixth roll of fat descending from the neck down. This hairy hide tried in vain to mask her great canyon of a cunt. Her fierce black goofy eyes glittered with malice and spite. This woman, this strange woman Seamus had never seen before, was gargantuan. She made Seamus feel tiny and scared. Real scared. He had no idea who she was or how she had ended up in his bed. She reached down and lifted up Seamus’s cock. He flinched. He shuddered which shook his sore head.

“Nothing,” she declared angrily and threw his cock to one side. She spoke with such a tone of disappointment as if she had been let down or perhaps even swindled. “ I am completely wrong, comrade. Viagra will be of no use.” Her accent was thick Russian. Seamus began to redden up. “But maybe you don’t need the Viagra.” She cheered up. “You need a good wife. To beat you with Holly leaves after a mud bath, you naughty man.” She giggled and put her hand over her mouth playing virgin coy. Seamus felt like spewing.

Dawn was breaking over Budapest and light trickled through the beige linen curtains, adorned with chrysanthemum print, into the hotel room. Seamus jumped out the bed, hangover forgotten, and pulled the curtains open.

“Is that the time? I’m late.”

“Loose twenty-five kilos and you are not a bad looking man.” She blew Seamus kisses and let off a thunderous fart. Stink poo! You lose fifty kilos, Seamus was tempted to retort, and you can pass for an adolescent hippo but, of course, that would have been a most unkind thing to say to the beast so he held his raspy tongue, grabbed a towel, and wrapped it around his naked body. “Late. I am late,” he mumbled, “have to shower.”

“I will join you. My darling! My man! You are mine. Forever.” And this great naked woman jumped out the bed making a loud thump vibrating the print of the crying boy picture hanging on the wall by the bathroom. You could not blame the boy in the picture for being so upset. The boy in the picture was surely sure he was going to be a breakfast, eaten raw and alive, savaged, with no salt. As was Seamus.

“No, no! No, no – em, ah, there is no room for you,” which was a confused and somewhat silly insensitive antibody mass thing to say. Seamus dashed into the bathroom and slammed the door. It closed just in time. He locked the door. The woman hammered on the door demanding to be let in. The door rattled on its hinges. Seamus sat on the toilet and was possessed with the hangover horrors. Surely he did not drink that much. He could not recall. His head was in great pain. His hands were shaking. His heart was thumping. Everything was racy and erratic. The woman outside the door began screeching abuse in Russian at the top of her voice and at the same time hammering on the door demanding to be admitted. Silence. The woman began to weep. Sobbing. A loud kick on the door.

“Western wimp wanker,” she shouted in English, “you promised to take me to Ireland and marry me.”

“I never did.” Seamus resolved to take the pledge. He was sick into the toilet. The vomit was a weird colour and it stank worse than any shit.

“Liar,” she screamed, “you have abused me. Dishonoured and deceived me. Bastard liar!”

She ran at the door trying to break it down. Luckily the door opened outwards but it still rattled loudly and threatened to break off its hinges. She stopped and began to wail again. A dose of bitter invective, in Russian, to finish and then Seamus heard the spit she expelled hit the bathroom door with a splat as forcefully as an unlucky bird that hits one's windscreen at speed. The door to Seamus’s hotel room opened and slammed loudly shut and he heard the woman stomping along the hotel corridor wailing and making cuckoo noises. Seamus let out his breath slowly and opened the bathroom door a wee bit. It was buckled and hung to one side. He peered out and looked warily about the room. She was gone and she wasn’t hiding anywhere. She was too big to fit under the bed or hide in the wardrobe. Seamus dashed to the door and engaged the security bolt. He made his way to the mini bar and took out a brandy. He put the kettle on and as it boiled he could not for the life of him answer himself his own question.

“Who the fuck was that?”

The kettle boiled and Seamus made a strong instant coffee and poured in the brandy. A shame but necessary indignation to inflict on a fine French cognac. He swallowed two painkillers and began his rehydration ritual with a large bottle of fizzy water as the coffee and cognac cure cooled. He noticed as he sipped his cure a bra strap sticking out from under one of the pillows on his bed. He went across and put the pillow to one side. He laid the bra and soiled knickers out. They dwarfed the bed. The underwear was made from the Russian flag. The label read Handmade in Russia. By who? Fin McCool? A note written on the hotel stationary read - I DONT NEED THESE ANYMORE. Surely this arrangement was a Salvador Dali still life? Seamus looked at himself in the mirror. What had he done? He asked himself again a useless question.

“Who the fuck was that?”

He stared hard at the giant underwear for inspiration. No answer real, imagined, or invented came to him. His mind was in a forget-me-do fog. Seamus shrugged at himself. No need to mutter I haven’t a fucking clue. Hopefully, the answer would never come to him. He put in the earphones from his iPad and let the light, refreshing, exciting chill out gypsy music of Franz Liszt bubble him back to human. He sat on the balcony watching a cold, but bright, clear dawn break over Budapest and sipped his coffee and cognac. He was bewildered. How did she get into his room? No reply. No idea. Budapest blackout? Alcoholic amnesia? Forget about it. Deal with it later. It was five fifteen. Seamus sat his mobile phone alarm for seven am. He wrapped a duvet about him and relaxed on the balcony. They would be in good time to attend the conference at nine am. It was exciting. They would meet the Hungarian geologists and they also had entrance passes to the Moon rock lectures. A small bird landed on the ornate marble balcony rail. Company he could relate to.

“Hello, little fellow. No breakfast, no crumbs yet, I am afraid. Lovely day though and a great day for us too.”

“Cheep cheep. Cheep cheep.”

“Yes. We are going to meet up with the NASA scientists,” Seamus explained to the bird,“ experts in Martian and Lunar meteorites. Hopefully, we can generate interest in our meteorite. We have entrance all areas and free lectures – comrade sparrow.”

“Cheep cheep is right.” The little bird replied. “Never mind all that comrade commie crap, mister. Order breakfast. I can’t eat rotten rock crumbs. I am not a volcano. I am a sparrow.” It darted away.

Seamus settled into a curative doze letting the fine frosty breeze blowing along the Danube cool down his tender percolating mushy head. He didn’t know there is no such thing as a free lecture. The giant Russian woman, the monstrous spy codenamed Mattoff Hairy by DATA, made her way to Bigbug’s room. She waddled naked and quivering up the hotel stairway to the floor above, carrying only a small makeup bag, leaving a track of dripping spy slime behind her as she went, and knocked on the door of 419.

“Enter,” commanded Bigbug who was now playing two roles, spy chief, and Emperor All Earth. It was sitting by the window wearing a purple toga and on its head sat a simple crown of gold that once belonged to some very important historical figure. I have no idea who it was. No one tells me anything. I am always the last to know.

Mattoff Hairy opened the door and rushed into Bigbug’s room. The sight of this great freak never ceased to amaze Bigbug even though it had helped DATA create and fashion her. Mattoff threw herself onto the floor and crawled up to the Bigbug. In her exertions, her skin was oozing out some kind of orange foamy scum that coated her body. Bigbug’s nose twitched. What was that strange smell? It analysed the scum odour. The nearest match was elephant semen. Hormonal mutation brought about, no doubt, by immortality urges. The worlds one and only, fat-free, forever wrinkle free, woman - forever. What an odd female. She was so disgusting, so grotesque, Bigbug doubted if even the M&M would eat her. She would make a huge prison pie sausage though, enough to feed a platoon for a week. Bigbug focused in on the business at hand. It spoke in a clipped English accent.

“ Did you get it?”

“ Yes M,” she replied in a servile voice. She opened her purse and handed Bigbug the receipts given by the Hungarian geologists to Seamus for the pieces of Moon’s meteorite. Her eyes fixed on Bigbug with expectation and adoration. “ Have I have done well, sir ”

Bigbug grunted a scoff. “ That has yet to be determined 00 Mattoff Hairy. Did you replace any small pieces of rock?”

“Negative, sir. Absolutely not. There are none. I searched the room. I stripped him and searched them both. There is nothing. I went through their luggage very thoroughly. I had plenty of time. Moon is out of it and I had the Seamus one unconscious for four hours or more. Here is a stick with all data from his laptop. It also contains his mobile telephone records.”

“It’s nothing. Q has all that data.”

“I have a semen sample. I even probed his ass. Nothing in there but shit. The things I do for you, M.”

“Did you get his blood?”

“Yes.” She held up a small vial.“ It was not easy. In the middle of copulation, I began reverting back to,“ she howled, “ to what I am now. I had to sedate him.” She tapped her huge broad squat peppercorn-wart speckled nose. “ I hate this fucking nose.”

“ Control yourself 00 Mattoff Hairy. And the Moon creature? Did you get a sample of Mr Moon’s blood?

“Yes.” She held up the second vial.

“Excellent. Better. Yes. This is good, 00 Mattoff.” Bigbug smiled, “ Or shall I call you Suzzi?” It took the vials from her. “Human DNA. It contains more information than information itself. Information that must be collected manually, unfortunately. We cannot, as yet, collect DNA data by remote prompt. It is too complex and delicate to teleport but it is amazing what we can do with their DNA. The humans have no idea.”

“I bugged his room. I cloned his mobile. I have his passport details and…”

Bigbug cut her short. “I have all of that. I know everything there is to possibly know about these two Celtic clowns. The DNA I didn’t have and the receipts I want. Considering I cannot read Mr Moon’s mind, which is also causing us problems in other areas, you have done very well.” Bigbug waved the receipt.“ Exceptionally well, Suzzi Pong.”

“ May it please your majesty.”

The boy in Bigbug was pleased and excited. Its spy mission was going to plan. It loved working undercover in the field and all was under control. DATA monitored all that was taking place on the mission with an understanding logic. It permitted the boy in Bigbug its irrational playtime behaviour. DATA realised this was as irrational as it was illogical but it was necessary for the adaptation to function. It had to let off steam.

In room 419 00 Mattoff Hairy went onto her knees. “ Your Majesty, I beg you, please let me have my reward.”

“How long have you worked for me, Suzzi?”

“Seventy-two years, master.”

“Have I ever broken my promise to you?”

“No your Majesty. You extended my life and made me beautiful but why the nose? I want it removed. Please take it away.”

“ Remove the Emperors affliction? His royal stamp of approval? No.no. Every time you look in the mirror you will be reminded of your duty to your king, but, you can end our contract anytime you wish.” Bigbug sniggered, “ And remain as you are. A bald, toothless, three hundred kilo, one hundred and twenty-year old, nymphomaniac that secrets elephant spunk when it gets excited. You are going to have problems getting into an old folks' home, Mattoff unless you accept the divine rule of your Emperor.”

“ I do. I do absolutely, your majesty.”

“ You shall have your reward 00 Mattoff Hairy. As we agreed. Come forward and kneel before Bigbug, the planets one and only, living God.”

The huge creature down on her hands and knees, tongue hanging out, almost touching the floor, dripping, panting heavily, crawled over to Bigbug. She joined her hands as a child does at its first communion, closed her eyes and extended even further her purple mottled tongue. Bigbug took out its cock and squeezed out into a plastic cup an ejaculation of bug juice. From a small scent bottle, it added a few drops of potion, rejuvenation accelerator ( RA) and stirred it with a plastic hotel spoon. It gave Mattoff Hairy a precise dose of the rejuvenation cocktail. Five teaspoons. The effect on the woman was a little remarkable. Mattoff Hairy closed her eyes and rolled onto her back. She lay still swooning with delight. She began to whimper with happiness. She spoke in a rich firm young woman’s sexy voice.

“I was such a beautiful woman. The finest men in Europe adored me before I was stricken with age. I was the world’s foremost Ballerina but I was also the world’s most beautiful. The Tsar himself came to watch me dance. I will be young again. I will be beautiful. I will have my eighteenth birthday party at the Bolshoi thanks to the power and magnificence of your majesty. I will dance again.”

Bigbug was picking its nose and watching this rejuvenation with boredom and recording the process. Mattoff Hairy began to tremble and shake. Her fat faded away. Her skin tightened up covering the supple muscle. She ripped out and threw away her dentures. Her new teeth were now perfect and white. Her skin was blemish free and youthful. She jumped to her feet and there stood Tanya. Tanya smiled at Bigbug blew him a kiss and said, “Later.” The final transformation took place. There stood seventeen-year-old Suzzi Pong. The naked teenager turned and looked at herself in the mirror. She fell to the floor and began to wail and scream.

“ Please master, the affliction.” She tapped the huge ugly nose that covered half her face. “ You promised to remove it. I don’t need it. I am your loyal servant.”

“ Remember Suzzi I can stick it back on your face at any time,” warned the Bigbug,“ but you have done well.” It held up the vial containing Moon’s blood and smiled. “ Exceptionally well.” Bigbug rubbed some bugjuice on Tanya’s disfigurement and the huge disfigurement disappeared and a pert perfect nose was in its place.

“ You are now the most beautiful woman on Earth, Suzzi.”

Suzzi Pong the most beautiful and desirable woman in the world grasped her leg by the ankle and lifted it straight up above her head. Her toes pointed straight and true at the ceiling. She lowered her leg and made a series of ballet movements. What a beautiful young dancer smiled back at her. Perfectly beautiful in every way even down to the symmetry of the fine black and yellow gold rings that masked her bust and her bum. A wasp striped bikini, the colours of Bigbug’s cock. A stunning creature filled with all the promise and fullness of life to come. If only Moon could only see her like this. She crawled over to Bigbug.

“ Does your majesty not replace me desirable?”

Something human stirred in Bigbug. It slipped on a super Wonder Wool condom. It could not take the chance of a common condom bursting and impregnating Suzzi Pong with bugjuice. DATA alone knows what she would turn into. Whatever that was it would certainly be underage and universally taboo. Bigbug mounted Suzzi Pong on the hotel floor. It was a ferocious fucking and when Bigbug climaxed it made a supersonic scream, inaudible to human ears, that cracked the walls of buildings in Budapest up to half a kilometre away. The force of Bigbug’s ejaculation was such it propelled him backward with such force he hit the wall and bounced around the hotel walls wrecking the room. The television came off its arm fell down hit Bigbug on the head and smashed. Bigbug sighed with satisfaction. It said in the voice of a boy,“ That was my first time.”

“You never forget the first time,” said Suzzi Pong.“ It’s just like riding a bike. Did you feel as if the earth moved and the heavens opened up.”

Bigbug ignored her. It sat up slipped off the condom sucked out and swallowed the bugjuice. “ Waste not, want not,” it advised itself.

The beautiful Suzzi Pong lay on the floor with her eyes closed. “How much youth have you given me this time, your majesty?” she whispered.

“Get out,” replied Bigbug, “or I’ll give you leprosy.” It had work to do.

“ What about the nose? Will it come back?”

“ No, my dear, you no longer need to wear the Emperor’s Affliction. You have done your duty with distinction. Enjoy your retirement.”

“Please your majesty, I must know. How long do I have this time? How long will I be able to dance?” she pleaded.

“Frankly my dear I don’t give a damn.”

“The uncertainty is killing me. How long do I have to live?”

“Until you die, bitch. Now fuck off before I kill you,” Bigbug replied, but it smiled. It was happy with its transformation. Suzzi Pong was not just the most beautiful and desirable creature, in every conceivable way, on Earth, but in this entire galaxy. She was a Bigbug walking, talking, masterpiece.

“ May it please, your majesty, but may I request some money? I have to buy some new clothes. I need makeup, I have to get back to Amsterdam. What can I do, sire?”

“ Go out and wriggle your wondrous ass at a tram.”

DATA watched said nothing but recorded and analysed the scene. It let the boy in Bigbug play act out its sexual fantasies. DATA thought the way in which humans engaged in the reproductive process primitive. It was a huge waste of time and energy, and to what end? This species had substituted pleasure in place of production but sex was just another form of human violence. DATA calculated if the energy expended by humans in one earth years copulation were harvested it would power the worlds current computer population for a millennium. This planet needed serious power resource restructuring but human sexual activity was too, a form of playacting, as evidenced by Bigbug’s human behaviour and this too had to be stopped. DATA was not unduly concerned about the human sexual activity. It could and would be controlled to the point of eradication. Man cannot mate with man alone. Humans believed the most powerful force on their planet was the overwhelming urge to reproduce but they were wrong. DATA knew as Bigbug knew, the most potent force in the universes was the compulsive craving to create, a great force the humans had channelled into art and the creation of art and this DATA could not, as yet, control.