The Banjo Players Must Die | Page 6

upon which inter-dimensional travel would be based had successfully been laid[As opposed to the Professor.]. Implementation, however, posed its own problems; from the Professor's journal:
"The D.I.L.D.O.[Dimensional Inter-Locator for Delectable Objects] doesn't appear to be doing anything I designed it to do. Of course, I haven't tested it yet, at least not personally. I did shove Anna through it though. That's my lab assistant. I have no idea where she went.
Which is, really, quite odd. You have this hoop with a trans-dimensional stasis field spun across it's surface, and you can see right through it. And yet Amanda, that's my lab assistant, she stumbles right through it and fails to appear again. Especially on the other side of the hoop, as one would expect from a well-functioning hoop.
This thing was designed - I could almost swear I got all the calculations right! - such that sexy buxom and totally horny hamsters should practically burst out of it from other dimensions, and still, nothing.
Decidedly odd. I did try pissing into it, however, and the piss too disappeared. Now, this thing might yet be of commercially value, though I don't know anyone in the hygiene business. It would make one Hell of a fancy toilet. Pity the recipient dimension though.
But it's a shame about my lab assistant. Anita? Yes, Anita. I hope I didn't actually piss on her in another dimension. Though, according to theory, I did in at least some dimensions piss on her. Come to mention it, there's probably also a dimension out there where she's being pissed on constantly, though I suppose one would adopt to something like that. Just look at the British."
Dr. Esmat Owi-Kan Se was at the time the then HoG (bureaucrat speak for Head of Group) of P.I.G.L.E.T.[The demise of the United Nations in the pandemic global peace of the late 21 century did not spell an end to acronym abuse. P.I.G.L.E.T. is an excellent example of why a large organization should never let its consulting scientists pick their own acronyms; it stands for Projecting Intense Gratitude by Licking Everyone's Testicles. It was responsible chiefly for propagating new research, much against any indications the acronym might have given.], a subdivision of B.o.A.R.[The Board Of Advanced Research.] Upon hearing of Dr. Abasiri's research, he sought copies of the relevant notes and technical briefs. Sadly, they had already been used in the stead of toilet paper and were no longer suitable for development and peer review. He had this to say:
"Abasiri's monomaniacal pursuit of rodent sex has blinded him to the larger need of the world around him. His destruction of papers related to trans-dimensional transportation will retard the scientific progress of the human race; how much, I cannot tell. I, for one, wish upon him a hamster rapist.
Strong words for sure, though as events transpired, a little unnecessary. Ramses had impeded the progress of science somewhat, but not as much as Owi-Kan Se had thought. For the world was on a tight schedule to close shop some scant 24 years later.
* * *
Lisa hadn't enjoyed the experience of falling through the D.I.L.D.O. very much.
For one thing, the actual trans-dimensional voyage/transformation itself seemed to involve performing acts with the human body which one would otherwise naturally have done with a sock. That is, having one's head pulled from the inside through the butt such that one was inverted - yanked inside out. Which was fairly painful. And then having it done again, such that one was no longer inverted. Which, naturally, was also quite painful.
Another source of displeasure to Lisa was the alternate universe she had been unceremoniously dumped in. Dr. Abasiri's theory was perfectly sound, she observed; this universe was exactly like her own in almost all regards except for one.
She watched as the occupant of the cage beside her, an older lady and quite heavily drugged, was carefully lifted out by a gigantic hamster in a white lab coat. The name tag on the lab coat said `Dr. Abasiri'. Clipped to the old lady's left ear was a large white tag with the number 75 printed on it. Lisa felt her ear and found a similar tag; 76. Lisa, or rather number 76 jumped off its exercise wheel and watched the proceedings with a startling lack of enthusiasm.
"Linda, can you fetch me some more firecrackers please" the giant hamster asked. It's lab assistant, another giant hamster, gestured to the half full box at the Professor's right elbow.
And of Lisa the lab assistant we shall say no more.
* * *
Dr. Ramses Abasiri's work with explosives was eventually to show itself as the most promising approach to artificial adaption of female hamster genitalia to the Professor's schlongen-dongen.
The first few specimen suffered Ramses' lack of experience with explosives, of course. In fact, the suffering caused by Ramses' lack of