R.W.C. #4: 'Anus Cold As Ice'

After a wait of well over a month, I present the newest (and fourth) installment of

"Cheesesticks & Poon: The Adventures of Robot Winston Churchill Across the Ages".

Part Four

"Anus Cold As Ice"


Doctor Robert Watson, chief paleontologist at the National Museum of Natural History, came bolting through the doors of the delivery docks just about as fast as anyone could. The newest prehistoric discoveries from the field had just arrived, and Doctor Watson was sweating with anticipation. As he signed for the delivery, he ordered his assistant, paleontology graduate student Tony Danza, to help him bring in the giant crate.

“What is it, Doctor? Is it the homo erectus you’ve always wanted?”

“’fraid not, me boy. This prize’ll be much grander. A perfectly preserved woolly mammoth, frozen instantly at the beginning of the Ice Age. I’m just hopin’ this one doesn’t have the strange deformities like the last one.”

“What were the deformities, Doctor?”

“Hold on boy, let’s get this crate in the examination room first.”

As they brought the massive crate in by fork lift, they placed it upon the examination table. As Danza began to tear away the protective covering, the Doctor could barely contain his excitement. His colleagues in the paleontology world had laughed at his obsession with the wooly mammoth, but Doctor Robert Watson was on a mission.

Ever since his first expedition to the artic as an eager graduate student, and his first mammoth find, he had been hooked on finding the perfect specimen of the massive beast we know today as Mammuthus Primigenius. But what had puzzled him most, especially recently, was the odd deformities in and around the sexual organs that seemed to appear on each and every specimen that ventured through his museum doors. It was almost enough to drive the poor old man insane.

But as Danza peeled away the last of the plastic wrap, exposing the perfectly preserved fur and fleshed, the Doctor became wholeheartedly aroused.

“Hurry boy! Show me the anus!”

Danza paused at this request, but when you spend eighteen hours locked in a museum like the Doctor did, the standards of attraction may be slightly lowered. Either way, he did as he was told.

As Danza unwrapped the anus’ covering, the Doctor pushed him away and grabbed the first look. What he saw couldn’t be put into words. A massive hole seemed to have ripped away the anal cavity, as if the result of a penetration of biblical proportions. And inside the gaping hole was, just like all the others, a kind of stringy, metallic goo.

“No! No!”, the Doctor jumped back, horrified, “No, it cannot be! Not again!”

“What is it Doctor?” Danza yelled at his petrified professor.

The Doctor was speechless. Eager to look for himself, Danza looked in at what the Doctor had staggered back from.

“My god, Doctor. This hole… it’s enormous. And this liquid. What is it? It’s almost like some kind of robotic semen.”

With those words, the Doctor was pushed over the edge.

All of his theories, his worries, his fears, were confirmed with those words. His worst nightmare was coming true and it was directly in front of his face. Terrified, he fell to his only solution to such a pain.

The Doctor, in his last act, ran quickly to a counter near the table where he grabbed a scalpel. Tears pouring from his eyes and agony ripping at his soul, he quickly slashed his wrists and throat as he fell to the floor. As he looked up once more from his pool of blood and pure human grief he bellowed his final words toward the heavens.

“Damn you, Robot Winston Churchill!”