“The Incredible Adventures of Colin McNaulty”
All rights reserved by the author
I first saw Colin when I was sitting on a Central Park bench near Rucker Park, reading my most recent copy of the New York Times. He was an athletic-looking youth with long wavy locks of golden blonde hair. As tall as a center for the NBA, he had the build of an NFL linebacker. There was no doubt he had a way with the ladies, because his smile contained the confidence of a young Greek god going to battle against any unfit opponents. What caught my eye, though, was his walk; a gentle swagger that could have been mistaken for ice-skating had it been the dead of winter in Siberia. He smoothly glided down the sidewalk as if it was just there for him. With his dirty boots, rugged pants, and suspenders, there was no mistaking him for a Fireman. Though you wouldn't know it looking at him, Colin McNaulty had had quite a bit of luck in the stock market. He carries a bag lunch made with the love that only a mother could give. He knows everyone's name and addresses each with the utmost enthusiasm.
His past is one of ups and downs. His mother and father were deported when he was just seven years old. Afraid to be placed in a group home, he lived in and out of railroad cars until the age of 15 when his parents returned from their banishment of Cuba. His father died shortly after from a severe case of genital herpes.
Colin graduated from Boston College on a football scholarship where he received a master’s degree in Biochemical Innovations. After turning down several job offers, he decided to pursue his real passion: a Chippendale’s dancer. The dancing was going great until he was caught one day having sex with the owner's grandmother in one of the changing rooms. He then moved back with his mother where he began fixing up her house with the money he earned fighting fires. With his degree he was able to be on the HAZMAT team, which was the group assembled to handle the spilling of hazardous materials.
It would have been a typical day at the firehouse, but lately the fires had seemed to be evolving into more ferocious flames that seemed to be put out but then rekindle themselves spontaneously. Colin, being the biggest, strongest and fastest fireman on engine eight, was the only person able to save anyone from this new breed of flame.
In the past week, the city had lost more buildings from fires than any three cities in the state of New York combined. Colin thought that a little extra training would make them quicker to save victims, so he started them on a strict regiment of ballet and yoga. But all that did was make all the firefighters run out into the fires with pink tutus around and feminine little lights on their legs. The men had a new found sense of flexibility, but they couldn't move fast enough to put out the fires.
Colin’s next idea was to put the men through some Pilates. The crew had shown some definite promise in the workouts, but their slimmed figures were still not quite light-footed enough to get in and out of the buildings quickly enough.
Colin knew there was some reason why he was so different than the rest of his coworkers. He had decided that the answer lay with his mother. When he arrived home that day after his shift, Colin asked his mother, “Ma, why am I so much different than the rest of the firefighters in the city? There must be something special about me.”
“Well son,” she answered. “I have been trying to keep a secret for quite some time that you were given an experimental procedure when you were first born.”
"What kind of experiment did they perform?” he asked.
"I'm not totally sure about that but I know that they used special proteins and injected them into your muscles. They approached me about it when I was coming towards the end of my pregnancy. It was actually quite peculiar. I was on an examination table completely naked and a man popped out of one of those bottom cabinets and asked me if I would give him permission to use my son in an experimental procedure to enhance the muscularity of human beings. He assured me that you would not be harmed so I agreed. If you want any more info about it though, you'll have to go to the head of the corporation that was funding the operation."
Now what was weird about this was not that a little man was awkwardly hidden in a cabinet, but the fact that after the procedure was done, no one ever followed Colin's progress. Colin thought that this was odd so he decided to look into his unclear past.
His mother gave him the address to the building where the offices were where he could ask for help. Colin felt very uncomfortable standing in front of the building because it had too sections connected to each other with rounded roofs and vines all over the area where they were joined together. It quite resembled a man's hairy ass. As he walked, he peeked into all the doors that lined the heavenly white hallway. He was curious to see what was in the rooms but he knew he had to keep walking to find out why he was what he was. Colin continued to walk towards the help desk when all of the sudden a mop that a janitor had propped up against the wall started to fall. Instinctively, Colin went for the mop but as he stepped for it his foot pressed right down on the head of the mop, his entire body was horizontally suspended in the air as he made the rest of his way to the secretary, who was still chatting away on the phone that was surgically attached to her ear. Colin's body continued to rotate in a counter-clockwise direction and when it was completely inverted in the air, his buttocks connected with the unsuspecting face of the secretary. Fortunately, none was hurt during the accident, but sadly, the secretary turned out to be a very good-looking individual and politely turned down Colin's offer to go out on Saturday night.
After brushing himself off, Colin headed straight for the presidents door, where he was awaited by the president of the company now known as Soco N' Lime Pharmaceuticals Co. The president was a slender man and of a smaller stature, but one could tell that he was a ferocious businessman by the fiery look in his eye. Every drug company knew who Creole Pharfigneugen was. Creole had revolutionized genetic alterations in the world as we knew.
As soon as Creole laid his eyes on Colin he knew who Colin was. Creole asked Colin what he was there for anyway, despite the possibility that he had already given away the fact that he was already aware of Colin's inquiries.
Colin politely asked, "I was wondering if I could ask you about a procedure your company performed on a fetal patient twenty two years ago. Apparently one of your assistants had asked my mother to inject me with a special protein when I was little to enhance my muscle growth as I grew older."
"Yes," replied Creole.” Your particular case is an interesting one. It came to our attention several years ago that a disturbed orderly in our laboratories was parading around like a lunatic, hiding in examination rooms and sneaking up on poor pregnant women. We had heard of only one instance where a mother had accepted his offer but we lost any trace of her after a deportation incident. But my sources say that our missing baby is you and we are thrilled to see that our athletic-genoformula has worked better than ever imagined."
"Sir, the reason I wonder is that I need to rebuild the whole fire department on engine eight so that we can do the best job possible in saving people's live before this new strand wipes out the entire population of New York City. This gene doping experiment may be the only resolution. I need that formula."
"Well Colin, sadly we have misplaced the formula deep in our basement of records but if we find it, you will be the first to know. From this point on, there will be a special task force made just to find this formula."
Now, I wish I could tell you that what Creole Pharfigneugen had told Colin was true, but he wasn't really going to give the formula to this good-hearted boy from New York City. Creole's intention was to sell the formula to major athletic associations to beef up their players and make the games more exciting. Colin had a feeling that there was some shady business going on in that hairy ass building, so he broke in that night.
It wasn't hard for Colin, since he possessed genetically enhanced muscles that could squeeze the cap off of an unopened soda bottle. His master's degree from Boston College didn't hurt either. He took a long rope and swung it between the two butt cheeks of the building and grappled his way up the crack of the ass. He saw a security light making its way right towards him just as he was halfway up. The light stopped right on him, but with all the vines around him he just looked like a huge knot in the hairy asscrack. After Colin finally got in the building, he looked around for a door that might lead him to the basement. One of the doors was a lab where all the test animals were kept. Everywhere he looked, all he saw were jacked up monkeys and immensely ripped pigs that left him in awe. He finally found the door to the winding staircase that would bring him to the stacks of the building. Colin did in fact find it humorous that all of the walls and file cabinets inside the basement of the building that looked like a hairy ass were dark brown. Even the floors were brown.
Colin was no sooner face to face with a giant bull mastiff that seemed to be guarding the premises. Thinking quickly, Colin gave the dog a swift kick in the nuts and took off running in the direction of the gene doping formulas that was marked by a clever Walmartish sign above the cabinets hanging down from the ceiling. After he found the correct cabinet the gene formula he was looking for was even more cleverly indicated by a rather bold tag on the folder's flap. Colin grabbed it and darted up the stairs trying to flee the pursuit of the recovered guard dog who was ironically named Scrotum.
As he was high stepping the staircase he caught his foot on one of the steps and bit it hard right in front of the pretty secretary who was still there to write some last minute memos for all the workers. "What are you doing here?” she asked. "You are not allowed in here this is a restricted area. Aren't you the guy that hit me in the face with your behind earlier today?"
"Yes," Colin replied reluctantly with a hard sigh."Im really very sorry about that. I’m not normally this clumsy, but I guess you have a bit of a presence that make men act out of the ordinary."
Colin suavely put the moves on the sexy temptress who soon, became putty in his arms. They spent the duration of the evening making sweet dominatrix love on the floor of the cafeteria at a nearby middle school. This turned out to be a bad idea since they had overslept the next morning and all the little kiddies were standing in a big circle around them like something out of Children of the Corn movie. They quickly acquired their entire article of clothing and went home to her apartment.
"Ya know ma'am, I still haven’t caught your name,” Colin pointed out intelligently.
"Well, if you must know, my name is Panty Pleasure. I don't need you to tell me your name; I would prefer not to be connected to a felon. You do realize that you have committed a crime by stealing that formula."
"I know, but it’s the only way I can save lives and keep this from being used to buff up professional athletes. You need to come with me and help me administer the procedure to my firefighters so that we can go back to saving lives instead of running around in little pink tutus like a bunch of feminine fairies looking for a tea party."
"Fine, I will help you, but only if we do this wearing those pink tutus.
"Agreed. Now let’s go get this done.
They were just on their way when one of Creole's Soco N' Lime Co. vans pulled up right in front of them. The side door slid open and Scrotum exploded out into the parking lot. At this Colin turned and ran like a bat out of hell. As a result of his high speed and the fact that he didn't realize that there was a curb on these sidewalks, Colin slammed his toes against the curb and flew right into the plate glass window of a nearby shop. Scrotum followed him through and immediately seized the shop owner, biting off his genitals. What Scrotum didn't know was that the shop owner had a shotgun. The shop owner stuck the barrel right between Scrotum's hind legs and pulled the trigger. Let’s just say that scrotum won’t be humping everything he sees anymore.
Taking advantage of the situation, Colin took Panty and went right to the station house. They quickly threw on the pink tutus and gave all the fire fighters the gene doping protein. Within weeks the men were faster, stronger, and bigger than they had ever been. As for the formula, Colin "mistakenly" dropped it during one of the fires and Creole Pharfigneugen never got his hands on it. As for myself I am quite proud of Colin and his accomplishments. After all, this entire occurrence is my own doing. Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Yea that’s right. I was that crazy old bastard who was running around with that gene doping solution. No one ever thought that old George Finklebaum would ever be responsible for such a disaster. Boy were they wrong. This is where I leave you friends. There are more muscle heads to be created.
© Copyright 2005 by the author
All rights reserved