beer_good_foamy’s (no longer F-locked) story Did It Sing?, here is another R-rated Season 8 ficlet. Contains mild spoilers for a sub-plot that might one day go somewhere (I’m not holding my breath!) but which for the past 12 issues has only been of value as a source of inspiration for Crack!Fic. I’ve taken liberties with the time-line with regards to the release of the Simpsons Movie – just as Joss did with the breakthrough of Amy Winehouse, the Tenth Doctor, and the extinction of Scottish wolves. 750 words.In A Big Country
“That wasn’t quite the way the ritual was supposed to go,” Althanea observed, frowning at Willow.
“What do you mean?” Willow asked, wrenching her gaze away from the naked figure’s most prominent attribute.
“The idea was to cleanse the area of the remaining spiritual traces of the ridiculous Homer Simpson image,” said Althanea. “We’ve certainly done that, Willow, but I couldn’t help noticing that you were adding your own, ah, embellishments.”
“I got kinda distracted,” Willow confessed. “Gay now, yeah, but not blind. And, hey, it does pretty much hit you in the face. Uh, not literally, ‘cause that would be, like, ewww, but, well, you know.”
“I certainly do know,” said Althanea, “but it’s never a good thing to allow your concentration to lapse when performing a ritual. You never know what will happen.”
“Well, yeah,” said Willow, “but it’s only a chalk figure. What could possibly go wrong?”
The white chalk outline shone faintly in the moonlight. A cow lowed in the distance. An owl hooted. The lines in the turf began to move.
Grass shifted, chalk-dust billowed up, and the immense two-dimensional figure rose up from the hill and towered into the air. It stood for a moment, hazy and insubstantial, and then began to shrink and solidify. The shape filled out and, as it lost height, it acquired depth and breadth. By the time its fifty-five metre height had reduced down to some sixty feet a fully three-dimensional solid form stood atop the hill. Still naked; and with the most famous erect phallus in England now projecting out as well as up in all its masculine glory.
The giant swung its massive club onto its shoulder, turned to face north-west, and strode off at great speed. Thirty-foot strides took it out of the village boundaries in moments. In a couple of minutes it was passing Yeovil and turning north to follow the A37 on the first stage of its long journey.
The earth shook under the giant’s feet. Sleepers woke, rose from their beds, and peered out of windows; but by the time they were looking the giant had moved on out of sight. Cars veered off the road as drivers stared at the incredible sight. A short while later stern-faced and irritable policemen were ordering obvious drunks to stop babbling and blow into little bags. By that time the giant had passed out of sight and was veering east to avoid Bristol and Bath.
Across hill and dale the giant marched at over a hundred miles an hour. It kept pace with an express train for a while, the passengers peering out of the brightly-lit carriages into the darkness and unable to be sure of what they were seeing, but their courses diverged as the train approached Birmingham. Further and further north the giant rushed, untiring, apparently unstoppable.
Hours later, as it wandered lonely as a cloud through the Lake District, the giant came upon a host of golden daffodils. The mighty club swept down like a scythe. Blossoms fell. An enormous hand reached down and scooped them up. With an armful of foliage clasped to its chest the giant rushed on even faster.
Huge legs plunged into the river Eden and the giant waded across. It trotted parallel to the A7 for a while, causing yet more chaos among what little traffic there was at that early hour, and crossed the border into Scotland. As dawn broke it was level with Hawick. It continued north to Selkirk before turning to the west and striking out across country.
Across lonely glens it strode. As the sun began to climb in the sky the giant picked up speed as it sensed that it was reaching its mysterious destination. Eventually it drew near to a massive building of forbidding grey stone. A great wooden door stood closed. The giant lowered its club and rapped on the door with the mighty weapon. The sound of the impact echoed through the glens like a flight of Tornadoes breaking the sound barrier.
The door swung open. A small blonde figure stood in the doorway, a gleaming axe in her hand, and stared up at the immense figure. Her eyes widened as she caught sight of nine feet of erect penis.
The giant lowered its arms and wordlessly deposited quarter of a ton of daffodils on the ground beside the doorway.
The blonde girl rolled her eyes and turned to face back into the building.
“Dawn!” she shouted. “It’s for you!”
