A Repugnantly Wealthy Hippo (End)

Texas went to swing the axe a second time when something tugged at her nostrils. She sniffed, and nearly puked! The air was suddenly high with a revolting odor. It was like... cottage cheese wrung out of a pair of sweaty stockings and sprayed down with expensive perfume. Had she accidentally opened a sulfur pocket or something? This mystery miasma was growing more potent by the second!

Suddenly, the ground started to shake. BOOM. BOOM. BOOM. Texas spun around to the opening of the mine to see a curvaceous silhouette blocking out the sun.

“Oh, goodness gracious! Harumph! A moment longer in that dreadful heat and my hair would be ruined! Ruined!”

Trundling into the mouth of the mine was none other than Madame Uppercrust of the famous in Gold Springs at least) Uppercrusts.

Her husband’s name commemorated just about every building in town. He had paid for the schoolhouse, the church, the fixing up of the saloon's roof and always took a neat percentage of the town’s tax for his troubles.

Tex had always considered Monsieur and Madame Uppercrust the blood-guzzling parasites of Gold Springs. As much as she loathed their hoity-toity presence in the town, the place would crumble to dust without the couple's monetary contributions.

Madame herself was as beastly as any wild boar. It seemed that all her wealth and influence had held back the tongues of her peers and potential critics. Everyone was too afraid to tell her how fat she was, or how disgusting she was, or how her fifty dollar hairdo looked like a wig mounted on top of a plate of grey jello. No, badmouthing the Uppercrusts would get you nowhere in Gold Springs. Even now, Tex held back her insults and just kept picking at the wall.

“You! Sheriff! What is this I hear about the miners striking?”

“Ah’m ‘fraid so, m’aam. They just up and left an’ now I gotta-“

“Oh, say it’s not so! Oh, my! Oh, what a heartache!” The grotesque hippo whipped a handkerchief from her dress pocket and fanned her face, clutching the string of pearls about her neck, “B-But… if there’s no miners then… oh, there’ll be no diamonds! No rubies! No emeralds for my jewellery!”

Oh, brother. Talk about drama Queen! Though, Tex silently thought, even Queen was too gracious a term for a reeking glutton like Madame Uppercrust.

“It can’t be true! It simply cannot be! How could you allow such an injustice??” Madame started jumping up and down like a petulant toddler. The entire mine quaked. If she didn’t stop she’d cave the both of them in! "Oh, you loathe me! That's it, isn't it? You want me to go without my precious jewellery and die!"

“Miss, can yah not-“

But it was no use. Madame just kept bouncing and bouncing. Loose pebbles tumbled down the walls. From deep in the bowels of the cave Texas could hear crumbling. She felt it coming but before she could scrabble out of the cave it was too late. A giant heap of boulders loosened from outside and tumbled down over the entrance, sealing both Texas and the grotesque beast of a hippo in.

Madame Uppercrust ceased her jumping and gasped. One single shaft of sunlight sliced through the darkness and painted her shocked face, until that, too, was covered up.

“Aw, crud…”

“Waaaaagh! Cave in! Avalanche! Oh, good heavens! We’re trapped!”

If Uppercrust’s jumping hadn’t knocked the rocks loose, her unparalleled wailing surely would have. Texas dropped her axe and plugged her ears, grinding her teeth together.

It seemed today just couldn’t get any worse. At least, that’s what Tex thought before she cracked open an eye and saw three hundred pounds of feverish hippo rump flying right at her.

With a resonating THUD Madame pinned the sheriff to the wall, offering a snotty “Hmph!” And “That’ll show you!” As she ground those twin blubberballs into her frail form. “This is all your fault!”

The Madame was wearing a silken dress and a pair of frilly bloomers, but neither layer was enough to keep the slimy texture of ass from violating Tex's features. Trying to spit out the bitter taste of hippo tush, instead she sent airbubbles rolling up the mounds of glistening fat. She was now doubly trapped.

“There’s only one way to punish revolting little vermin like you! With an act equally as provincial!”

Madame balled her fists and puffed her cheeks. Texas could hear something stirring from deep within her, and like a great volcano Uppercrust rumbled for just a moment longer before unleashing a vile gush of hot air into Tex’s face.

PLLLRPLLLRRPLRRRPLRRP!

It was quite possibly the most disgusting wet fart she’d heard in all her life (and when you’re playing g-string for flatulent outlaws on a weekly basis that’s really saying something).

On and on it sputtered and spewed, topping up Tex’s nostrils with the stench of teacakes, quiches and tart garlicky salads gone rotten. The utter repulsiveness of the smell was even more surprising than the sound. Texas wriggled and started to sob as it continued to surge against her. Five seconds later it broke down into a moist hiss and ended.

“Hoohh! Oh, m-my! What an unladylike display!” Madame was fanning herself again, scraping sweat off her brow, all while layering on a pretty unconvincing air of mock embarrassment. “But when you’re eating foods as rich and refined as I am, and attending three garden parties a day, one must find time to ease some pressure where the elite won’t hear it!”

Her nostrils flared. “Or smell it! Ghastly!”

“Please…” Texas squirmed, her voice muffled by the blubbery mass. “Air… ah need air…”

“Harumph! And why exactly is MY air not good enough for you? Why, you should count yourself lucky to experience such lavish cuisine, even if it’s only the aftermath!”

BRRROOONNK!

The filthy hippo fanny flapped against Tex’s face for a second time. She was receiving a grade-A cheek massage with the only cost being the total annihilation of her lungs. Every breath was chock-full of that unbearably sour flavor. The food may have been high-falutin’ on the way in, but was pure **** on its journey out.

"Pleeze M'aam... can't breathe..."

“Hush! I won’t hear another ungrateful word out of you!”

WHAM!

Madame bounced her fat ass against the cave wall.

“That’s better! Not seen nor heard! I think now’s a perfect opportunity to give you a piece of my-“

BRRRRMMMMP

“-Mind! Ahh…”

For Tex it was all darkness. Darkness and dampness and rankness and misery. Madame Uppercrust rolled the hem of her pearly dress up to her tail and squeezed Texas deeper into her crevice.

“I’ve seen you strutting about town like you own the place! And, well, erm… I suppose you are the Sheriff so you sort of do, but that’s beside the point! From now on things shall be changing in Gold Springs! At noon, you are to bring me a bottle of wine and caviar!” Her rear trumpeted out a quick note, almost like it was noting down the demand on a checklist, “In the afternoon you are to restrict the watering hole to yours truly! I don’t want any riffraff wiggling their sordid toes in MY placid lake!” Another gurgling gust. “And every evening you shall bring to my mansion a… donation. No less than twenty dollars, oh, and you’ll be giving me a back massage! A foot massage, while you’re at it… you can scrub my underarms, too. They get ever so clammy in this heat! Hrm, and how good are you at unclogging toilets? If you fail to provide on any of these fronts, well… I think we both know what your punishment shall be!”

Madame bent forwards, really forcing all her strength into her guts to **** out the most violent backend blowout of the day. The gas bubbles swarmed up the cave wall, and when Madame Uppercrust was finally polite enough to peel her fragrant backside off the rock, poor Texas was now a permanent fixture; a very smelly cave painting, with the third dimension truly compressed out of her. Maybe in years to come historians would uncover this painting and wonder how anybody could ever be so pathetic.

(END)