Tales of The Kandy Kingpin
Ashes of soot fall from what once was the heavens. Rubble fires scorch crumbling concrete. Gangs of survivors post up on the remains of street corners and in the skeletons of old buildings. A foul smell of feces, urine, and death creeps from every dark alleyway.
The capital has been blown to smithereens by our adversary. Our nation has been at war for many years but the nemesis had enough toil and blood bled on their soil. They brought bombs here to our home.
Annihilation of every army base and city with 30,000 or more in 21 hours. Many millions dead instantly, hundreds of thousands more from radiation, and countless others in the months to follow from starvation, disease, and dysentery.
The barrage did not halt there. Major rivers poisoned from the source. Farmlands of the west ravaged by genetically altered locusts, beetles, and mites. Pipelines and oil rigs exploded followed by a systematic destruction of dams and reservoirs. The people, our people, have had to endure mass chaos for many moons since the bombings first fell.
When the attack all began, I was in the countryside injecting liquid ketamine into a people sized horse. I’m a doctor. I was in shock but as soon as I felt able, I returned to the nearest city to search for my family but everything was gone. Flattened back to Mother Earth’s crust. Including my only kin.
I wandered for many days. Sticking to the forests of the North. Surviving. Eventually, I stumbled into a fortified community in the forests. Surviving. Soon, I was a doctor again.
One day I was in my office when the General came in,
“Doctor.”
“General.”
“Doctor Rotcod.”
“General La’Reneg.”
“Hello.”
“Hi.”
“I have an important mission for you. Utmost importance.”
“How important?”
“Utmost.”
“Okay, I’m in.”
“As you know the queen's youngest child has PW syndrome. Princess Whining syndrome. She has recently come down with a spout of the sickness and requires sugary candy. Or she will die. We need lots of it and we need it stat.” He paused to lower both eyebrows to show his seriousness then continued, “In the capital on the full moon of each month a night of peace is held amongst tribes. A market takes place on Penn Ave that night and is lit by torches. I need you to go there to retrieve the highest quality medicine and return ASAP.”
“Is this intel true?
“I have no idea.”
“Okay, I’m in.”
“You will take my best men; Reno, Condor, and Major Martoni. Also, you will take Pete.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. I guess, I’m in.”
He then gave me currency and a small tin tube that would be stored in my rectum to hide from thieves. With the plan stashed away, we were off.
A harrowing pilgrimage of many full moons preceded. All of the men died heroically, except Pete. He just died. Tonight is the full moon and tonight I went to the capital.
I slithered through shadows, unseen, to the street lit by torches. Indeed a market was being held. I soon found the merchant with the medicine the Princess so desperately needed.
The merchant was a cross dresser who was introduced as the Kandy Kingpin. A big round gut with round breasts, sloppy stubble from the neck to the jaw but with a stylish, thick handlebar moustache over the upper lip. Long and luscious light brown hair hung over their shoulders but a natural bald cap on top. Wearing a size-too-small pink sundress with blue flowered fabric and a frilled bottom.
“Hello there, handsome. I’m Kandy.”
“Hello there, human. I'm Doctor Rotcod.”
“How can I assist you?” with a wink.
“I am here to acquire all your finest products covered in sugar and its dire.” with a wink.
A quick twirl of the dress and a gentle arm wave over the table of goods. Instantly, drool collected in my mouth. Everything imaginable was there. Charleston chews, moon pies, rock candy, moon rocks, chocolate pretzels, whack-a-doos, tooth tumblers, dots, kits kats, candy cane, candy corn, candy bats! I pushed my plan out from my butt and handed the tin tube over to Kandy.
“I hope you don’t mind.”
“That’ll do.”
Backpack full, I took off. Back to the north to save the Princess from death of the terrible PW syndrome. Before I left the once great capital, I took one last look over the remnants of our empire.
Ashes of soot fall from what once was the heavens. Rubble fires scorch crumbling concrete. Gangs of survivors post up on the remains of street corners and in the skeletons of old buildings. A foul smell of feces, urine, and death creeps from every dark alleyway.
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