When we were college roommates, back in the 1980's, I had teased Ken Gambol, frequently and mercilessly. Always begging him (in front of pretty co-eds) to do an accapella rendition of "Zircon Cowpoke." And, naturally, he had hated that as much as the co-eds had loved it.
For him, it had sucked to be an astrophysics major with the same full name as a legendary singer/songwriter.
But, he ultimately forgave me. . .after the car crash that nearly killed me.
We'd been celebrating our graduation from college, and (in retrospect) I guess we each had one too many. Our drunken double vision made us see a four-way stop at that intersection, instead of just two. And, as they say in New York City. . .?
BA-DA-BOOM!
I was told much later, after I revived in the hospital, that I'd been clinically dead at the scene for five minutes. Which, I guess is how I became endowed with the ESP I've repeatedly demonstrated to this day! That, in turn, brought me to the attention of Dr. Robert Adam Peal. The pioneering parapsychologist whose detractors semi-affectionately referred to him as "Old Bananas."
Since Dr. Peal's passing, five years ago, I had been working on a new project that I thought would make perfect grounds for both a reunion and a collaboration between myself and Ken. Hypnotically-reinforced astral projection, as a means of space exploration! Unfortunately, when I tried to get in touch with him, last month, to make the offer, Ken's secretary had told me that he was on sabbatical from our old alma mater (Lebaron University).
I had long since learned what "sabbatical" meant to him. Time off to investigate UFO sightings! And, naturally, his favorite investigations took place in and around Area 51, in Nevada. Of course, as Kenny Gambol the singer now lived and worked in (relatively nearby) Las Vegas, that had more or less inevitably resurrected my impulse to tease him, from time to time.
A fact that didn't fail to nibble at my conscience as I boarded my flight to Vegas at JFK International Airport.
I debarked at McCarran International about five hours later. I had tried catching up on my sleep, en route. But, it had refused to come. Instead, I found myself having another weird dream. This one, seemingly patterned after an old Japanese monster movie.
The U.S. Army was attacking a most unusual foe. A numerically small band of giantesses! Each one, a hundred feet tall, at least!! Yet, none of them were dressed like fairy-tale giants. That is; none of them wore medieval-looking rags and sandals (a la Willy the Giant in Walt Disney's "Mickey and the Beanstalk").
Instead, these were baton-twirling majorettes. Some dressed in mini-skirted costumes of orange-and-silver. Others in black-and-white, or green-and-gold.* But, all of them wearing the same kind of skinny, wedged-shaped caps worn by the Boy Scouts of America. And, all of them either scrunching infantrymen and tanks, beneath the soles of their white go-go boots Or, downing helicopter gunships and fighter jets with the hurricane-force winds generated by the super-fast twirling of their humongous batons!
Fortunately, for me, I woke up to the sound of the chief flight attendant announcing our arrival in Vegas.
tbc
Giantess World
Chapter End Notes:
*See "Majorettes Dixi" @ Youtube.