ID Number: 1060 From: strait_flush5 <email@example.com>
Subject: Story telling time
Date: Tuesday, July 15 2003 - 13:50:20
As many of Lisa's fans know, she once played a stripper in one of her
movies ("Glass Cage" I think it was). This is the story of Lisa's
first visit to a strip club.
Several years ago, Lisa was heavily involved with a guy named
Hulbert. Hulbert was the typical, Southern-California, surfer-dude,
who even spoke with the same, stereotypical surfer cliches that
people who live outside of California hear surfers speak on movies or
TV. Hulbert was young and vibrant, tall, muscular, with curly blonde
hair and a penchant for those activities that would someday
become "Extreme Sports." Hulbert was also very self-assured, to the
point of being cocky - even arrogant. Hulbert didn't run much
outside his circle of beach-buddies and wave-riders, so he rarely had
any inkling of how his brusque, self-centered style handicapped his
social skills. On the contrary, for an avid surfer, his over-
confidence was an asset when attacking the big waves.
At that time, Lisa was early in her college career, and had not yet
been persuaded to send those life-changing photos of herself wearing
a yellow bikini to Playboy. She was still very young and naive,
innocent from the experiences of hardship and loss that every person
endures in life and that serve to season and mature a teen-ager into
Lisa saw her and Hulbert's relationship through fairy-tale eyes.
Hulbert saw Lisa as a nice piece of ass. Lisa would sit in her
college calculus classes, gazing out the window at the beautiful
California sun, day-dreaming about her "Precious" (that's what she
called him - any similarity with Gollum in "The Lord of the Rings" is
purely coincidental). Rather than finding the roots for the
polynomial equation the teaching assistant was dutifully scrawling on
the blackboard, Lisa would scrawl different combinations of her first
and middle name with Hulbert's last. Lisa Braithewaite, Lisa Marie
Braithewaite, Mrs. Hulbert Braithwaite... The bottom half of her
page had the names of her and Hulbert's imaginary children.
Montgomery Applebottom Braithwaite, Horatio Jacques Braithwaite,
Beatrice Amelia Braithwaite, Rosacea Viola Braithewaite.
Lisa tried to imagine what Hulbert was doing right at that moment.
Maybe he was busy paddling out - thinking of her as he scanned for
his next ride. Maybe he was resting on the beach for a moment,
working on his beautiful tan, and thinking of her. Maybe, she
thought, they were both gazing at that cloud that looked curiously
like a wedding cake, right at that same moment. It's probably
fortunate that Lisa could not know the truth of what Hulbert was
doing right at that moment - smelling day-old salmon steaks while
masturbating to publicity photos of Darryl Hannah from the
movie "Splash" - maybe it would have been better had Lisa learned the
truth earlier on.
Lisa loved Hulbert, and so she turned a blind eye to his self-
centered cockiness, and his intrusive fascination with mermaids. As
the weeks wore on, however, Lisa began to feel restless.
"Hulbert?" she asked one day while the two of them sat on the couch
watching "The Little Mermaid" for about the 100th time.
"What Fish." Hulbert said dryly. "Fish" is what he called her.
Lisa thought it was a strange pet-name, and that it probably had some
crass reference to the smell of fish, but she endured it - all for
"Would you like some of my popcorn? I'm getting kind of full."
"I've got my sardines, Fish" he said with an edge of
annoyance. "Quiet now - she's fighting the shark."
"Precious, I'm feeling a little frisky. Let's turn this off and go
into the bedroom" she said.
"Oh, what a nice piece of tail Ariel has!!!" Hulbert said, ignoring
Lisa and wondering again what the cartoon character looked like under
those clam shells.
"Hulbert, Precious, listen to me. I haven't felt like a real woman
for quite a long time. I want you to make me feel that way again."
"Okay, Okay... will you put on the outfit?"
"No, Hulbert... I want to feel like a real woman... not a fish"
"C'mon... you know you're my little Fish."
"No, Hulbert" she replied emphatically. "I want to feel like a real
*woman* this time."
Hulbert looked at her with a mischievious gleam in his eye. Lisa
felt that she was finally getting through to him. Hulbert started
unbuttoning his shirt.
"A real woman, huh?" he said.
"Yes, a real woman, Hulbert."
Hulbert turned back to the movie while he handed Lisa his shirt and
replied "fine... go iron this."
It was two weeks later, and Lisa's friends were growing concerned.
She had been so depressed since she had a fight and broke-up with
that louse Hulbert. Just yesterday, Helen, Lisa's classmate in
calculus, reached across Lisa's lap to retrieve her graphing
calculator out of the glove compartment. One of Lisa's homework
assignments with the names of the Braithewaite children fell out, and
Lisa burst out into sobs "Damn this warm, mammalian blood of mine!"
she cried. Helen knew she had to do something quick.
So, Helen and Serena took Lisa shopping for shoes. There was a sale
going on at Galaxy of Shoes - free laces with the purchase of every
pair of slip-ons. Serena loved to flirt with the pock-marked, brace-
faced kid who worked the counter. Helen was so excited by all of the
pastel colors of moon-boots, she nearly fell into a lump of giddy
convulsions right in the middle of the aisle. Andrew, the skinny kid
who manned the register and who was completely enraptured with Serena
and her lazy eye, had suggested to the manager that he order moon-
boots, warm Southern-California weather notwithstanding. As it turns
out, with Helen and her credit cards, that was a strategic business
move of unusual acumen coming from a High School Junior.
Lisa, however, was not impressed. She was quickly lost in the 20,000
Sq Foot store, crammed full of shelves full of shoes, some with
laces, some without. Within minutes, Lisa had slipped out the side
door, to find herself in an alley. There was an intensive,
intoxicating beat coming from the building next door.
"I wonder what kind of a place this is?" she thought to herself. She
walked around to the store front, and looked up at the sign.
"First National Bank of California" it said. Strange music to be
coming from a bank, she thought. She walked around to the back of
After quickly investigating, she discovered that the business that
adjoined the bank was a strip club called "Hypoerotic Hogtied Hippos."
"They must not realize that the "Hypo-" prefix means "under or below"
as in Hypodermic needle, and the the prefix "Hyper-" means "above,
over, or beyond" as in "Hyperactive Disorder" she thought to
herself. Thinking this could turn into a mildly entertaining
distraction from the paramedics responding to an epileptic seizure at
Galaxy of Shoes, she went in.
The business lobby was painted almost entirely in garish pink and
black. Lisa surmised that the unusual name for the club was at least
partially derived from the artificial habitat for a pygmy-
hippopotamus that occupied a large part of the lobby space. A
receptionist was seated behind a desk in front of a curtain of
beads. The incessant pounding of the music came through that
opening, as if some sadistic drummer were beating on Lisa's temples
with a mallot. She began to feel nauseous, as if her head were stuck
in a Tuba of a marching band as it paraded down the street.
"It's five dollars to get in, sweetie, or are you in the right
place?" the receptionist asked sarcastically as she was intently
filing and painting her fingernails.
"Yeah, I'd like to go in" Lisa said, pulling 4 dollar bills, a
quarter, 5 dimes, 4 nickels, and 7 pennies out of her pocket. The
receptionist just plopped the two extra pennies into the "Take a
penny, Leave a penny" cup on her desk.
"One more thing, sweetie" she said. "You have to feed the hippos
Lisa thought that sounded a little strange, a customer having to feed
a business establishment's pet/mascot before being allowed to enter,
but since she had never been to a strip club before, and not wanting
to appear silly, she said "Okay."
"Here" the receptionist said, handing Lisa a small bucket filled with
cabbage. "Just dump this over the side, and you can go in"
Lisa looked at the bucket full of low-grade vegetables, and in her
minds eye, the wilted leafs became dead fish. With relish and
uncommon vitriol, she tossed the contents of the bucket over the
railing into the hippo-habitat, and in a great moment of cathartic
expiation, let out a virile scream.
"My goodness, honey... if you like feeding hippos that much, maybe we
should get you a job here."
"Thanks, sweetie," Lisa said with newfound life and vigor, "but I'll
just go inside now."
"Don't let me stand in your way, sweetie" the receptionist said, and
returned to filing her nails.
The main dance hall was very dark, and it took a moment for Lisa's
eyes to adjust. After a few seconds of standing under the entryway
arch, Lisa began to move through the tables and chairs arranged in
front of the main stage. A couple of pool tables were sitting unused
off in alcoves to her right. On her left was a bar, situtated atop a
dais a couple of steps above the main floor. The stage was straight
ahead, and she could see a dancer mostly undressed, wriggling and
swaying around a firepole. There were about 10 or 20 men seated
individually at the bar, at tables, or at the stage. Each man
appeared to be alone, and was mesmerized by the action on stage. A
few waitresses moved among the male patrons, and Lisa guessed it must
be pirate night, because each of the waitresses was dressed as a
Lisa took a seat at an unoccupied table, leaving a buffer zone of two
or three tables between herself and any of the other patrons.
Despite the liberating experience of produce and miniaturized
amphibians (possibly the result of a cloning project gone awry) of
just a few moments before, the men in the room gave her the creeps.
She found, however, that her position did not afford her a very good
vantage point for the stage, and since Lisa is a dancer by trade, she
was understandably curious. So when the current dancer was finished,
she got up and moved closer. She took a seat at the foot of the
stage, and waited for the next pirate lady to appear.
After only a minute but what seemed like an hour, the next act
appeared. As it happened, it was two women - one with a red-bandana
skull-cap and black and white sailor shirt, the other dressed like a
pirate captain, complete with eye-patch and peg-leg. The women began
their strip routine, and Lisa soon realized the the pirate captain's
peg-leg was not a prop, but that the woman was an actual amputee.
"Wow" Lisa, thought. "She can really dance with that stump. I
wonder if they make toe-shoes that fit tree-branches?"
After the first song, both women were nearly naked. The captain was
on all threes, working a group of entranced and salivating men at the
other end of the bar. Red came slinking toward Lisa. She began
bobbing and thrusting her pelvis approximately 19 inches from Lisa's
face, and Lisa was beginning to feel slightly uncomfortable. Then,
looking at the captain, she realized that this dance move, while
never one that Lisa had learned in her ballet experience, was
evidentally a code for "stuff some dollars in my G-string."
Undaunted by this being her first experience, Lisa pulled out a
Sacajewea dollar coin, and, hand shaking ever so slightly, reached
out toward the pirate-stripper. She slipped the coin under the
dancer's waistband, but it promptly fell out. The dancer's gyrating
continued unabated. Lisa reached out under the dancer, and picked
the coin up. She tried to slip it into the dancer's G-string again,
but the motion of her hips was so violent, the coin fell again, and
rolled on it's edge further back on the stage.
Lisa stood up, and reached under and behind the dancer to get her
dollar coin. It was just beyond her fingertip's reach, and realizing
her predicament had little hope, Lisa sat back down.
Just at that moment, Serena came bursting into the club.
"Lisa, there you are! Helen maxed out two of her credit cards on
moonboots. I finally carried her out to the car, and she's waiting
there, breathing into a paper bag. What are you doing here?"
"Oh, Serena, it was wonderful. I fed Hulbert to the pygmy-hippos,
and I feel so much better now."
"Really? Won't there by charges?" asked Serena, incredulously.
"No, I didn't really feed Hulbert to hippos, but in a sort of
symbolic way." Lisa said. "And what's more, I think I want to be a
"Well, I'm glad you're feeling better, now, Lisa. Let's go home now."
And so, they did.
Helen and Lisa stopped hanging out after two semesters of calculus,
and Lisa was secretly glad. She just couldn't get used to moon-boots
on a southern-California campus. Lisa never became a pirate,
although she and Serena rented a boat during semester break, captured
Hulbert, made him walk the plank, and left him about 50 miles
offshore. And Serena went on to become a nuclear physicist.
And that's the story of how pygmy-hippopatamuses came to invade the
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