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                                  Andrew Roller Presents
                              NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS
                                                 in 
                                       BIKINI BRIGADE

                         _/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/

                                         Chapter Five

         At daybreak Katie and I were put back into the carriage.  The 
gingermen tied our wrists once more.  I found myself beginning to accept 
my captivity.  Katie and I waited, our hands behind our backs, for them to 
tie them, like patients waiting to see the doctor.  When the licorice was 
put round our wrists we barely flinched.  I enjoyed the feel of it; the firm, 
gentle, yet no-nonsense handling of the gingermen, how they took care to 
make sure that my bonds were tight, yet not too tight.  I was a cared for, 
captive princess, being taken to the new ruler.  I would be his prize, his 
consort.  His queen?  Would he prefer me, or Katie?  Surely he would 
prefer me.  I was bigger.  Yet only because I was a year older.  In another 
year Katie would be 13, not 12.  Her breasts might be as big as mine then.
         With such odd feelings floating in my mind, the carriage rolled on.  
Pines and peppermint sticks passed the carriage window.  I gazed at their 
erectness; the stiffness of the peppermint sticks, so tall and firm, the 
sharpness of the needles on the pines.  I was jolted in a gentle, rhythmic 
way by the rolling of the carriage over the pop rock road.  A team of 
powerful Clydesdales pulled us along, relentlessly, taking us in our 
bikinied nudity to our fate.  My bosoms jostled within my top.  I found my 
nipples standing up through the fabric of my bra.  The air was cool, brisk.  
Mist could be seen hanging amidst the trees.  I looked at Katie and saw she 
was sitting on the carriage bench with her hips forward, her legs open.  
Only the skimpy covering of her bikini undies kept the guards who were 
sitting across from us from peering directly into her slit.  She gazed up at 
me, her eyes wide and unknowing, her lips soft and pink, her nose small.  
Her breasts jiggled within her top.  Her nipples poked sweetly within her 
bra.
         ÒLicorice Lad is very powerful,Ó Katie whispered.
         ÒYes,Ó I agreed.
         ÒVery, very powerful,Ó Katie said.
         ÒMmmm,Ó I nodded.
         ÒHe owns all of Candyland,Ó Katie said.
         ÒYes.Ó
         ÒAnd IÕve always liked licorice.  Especially black licorice.Ó
         ÒMe too,Ó I murmured.
         In my head the tunes of Peppermint Pete still circulated, like old 
well-learnt songs one cannot get rid of.  HeÕd seen us off; piping as we 
rolled away.  Then, when we were gone, he went about his dayÕs work, 
cutting down Peppermint sticks to carve them into woodwind instruments; 
piccolos, flutes, whistles, and the recorders that little children play in 
nursery school. 
         ÒOh!Ó I said.  I shook my head.  My blonde locks tumbled freely about 
my face and shoulders, my bosoms, my back.  ÒNo!Ó I said.  ÒAll types of 
candy are good.  And-- and I like bubblegum best.Ó
         ÒYou donÕt like licorice?Ó Katie asked me.
         ÒAll types of candy, Katie,Ó I said.  ÒYou should not like one type of 
candy over another, except for your favorite, of course.  My favorite is 
bubblegum.Ó
         ÒMine is--Ó Katie paused.  She speculated.  ÒMine is--Ó she began 
again.  ÒWell, I donÕt think itÕs black licorice, but...Ó  She paused.  ÒI like 
Doritos.  Jay Leno eats Doritos.Ó
         ÒDoritos arenÕt candy,Ó I told her.
         ÒWell, theyÕre junk food.  ThatÕs what my mom says.  ÔDoritos... stop 
eating so many Doritos, Katie.  YouÕll spoil your appetite for supper.Õ  
ThatÕs what my mom says.  So theyÕre sorta like candy,Ó Katie told me.
         We rolled on.  The forest around us thinnned somewhat.  We moved 
across meadowlands.  And then, when we stopped to relieve ourselves, I 
saw them.
         ÒMountains!Ó Katie cried.  In the distance stood huge, rounded peaks.  
They glistened with white crystals all along their flanks, right up to the 
very top of each one.  At first I thought they were covered with snow.  
Then, seeing how round they were, I suddenly realized they might be 
covered with sugar.  Some of the mountains were so tall that they were 
lost in the clouds.
         ÒYes, those are the Gumdrop Mountains,Ó Freddie told us, as Katie 
and I squatted, relieving ourselves.  He unzipped his fly and peed into the 
grass.  We were so accustomed to being together now, and being watched, 
that we thought little of exchanging conversation together as we went to 
the bathroom.  We were almost like a family, it seemed, though a rather 
odd one, composed of gingerbread men, Katie, myself, our driver, and a man 
with pink glasses shaped like valentine hearts.
         ÒWho lives up there?Ó Katie asked.
         ÒGumdrop Guy,Ó Freddie answered.  He finished peeing and zipped 
himself up.  One of the gingerbread men passed Katie and I some leaves so 
that we could wipe.  ÒI also live in those mountains,Ó Freddie said.  ÒI have 
a fort up there.  ItÕs a very strong fort, made entirely of fruitcake.  ItÕs 
not as ornamental as the Citadel of Sweets, but I prefer it.  Who needs to 
live in some gaudy palace when a properly built fort will do?  And IÕll bet 
my fruitcake fortifications could stand up to an artillery barrage far 
longer than a Citadel made of poundcake, shortbread, and sugar cones.Ó
         I stood and tied my bikini panties back on.  ÒAn artillery barrage?Ó I 
asked.
         ÒWell, you know, if someone were to set up a catapult, and begin 
lobbing marshmellos at the walls of my fort, or at the walls of the 
Citadel, for instance,Ó Freddie offered.  ÒMy walls would stand up to such 
a pounding a lot longer than the walls of the Citadel would, IÕll bet.  Of 
course, IÕm biased in my opinions,Ó Freddie smiled.
         Katie stood and pulled up her undies.  
         ÒIÕm glad I didnÕt have to poop this time,Ó Katie announced.  
         ÒWell, letÕs move on,Ó Freddie said.  ÒIÕll be glad to be back home 
soon.Ó
         We returned to the carriage.  The gingermen tied us again.  The 
horses pulled us along the pop rock road, across the grasslands and into 
the sugary mountains.
         As we rolled along I began seeing a strange, new breed of bush 
amongst the rocks.  From the branches of this bush round little objects 
grew.  They had rounded tops and flat bottoms.  They sparkled, and I 
realized I was looking at gumdrops.
         ÒLook!  Gumdrop bushes!Ó I told Katie.
         ÒYes!Ó she said.  ÒCan we get out and pick some?Ó she asked Freddie.
         ÒNot right now, girls,Ó Freddie answered.  ÒPerhaps later.  The 
weather is good right now, and I want to go as far as we can.  I donÕt want 
to get caught in a sugar storm, if I can help it.Ó
         ÒA sugar storm?Ó I asked him.
         ÒYes,Ó Freddie laughed.  ÒThis is Candyland.  Snow falls up in these 
mountains but, also, a great deal of sugar.Ó
         ÒOut of the sky?Ó Katie asked.
         ÒOf course!Ó Freddie said.  ÒHow do you think these big, gumdrop 
mountains came to be covered with sugar?Ó
         ÒI dunno,Ó Katie said.  
         ÒIt is the dreaming of children in your world that causes it to 
snow,Ó Freddie explained.  ÒYou should see the storms we have up in these 
mountains at Christmas!  All those children, all dreaming about candy.  My, 
does it snow then!  But of course it can snow any time of year.  Any time a 
child is dreaming of candy, it snows a little somewhere, up here in these 
mountains.Ó
         I gazed out the window.  I saw flakes begin to fall.
         ÒLook!  SomebodyÕs dreaming right now!Ó Katie said.
         ÒYes,Ó Freddie agreed.
         ÒDoes it snow up here when IÕm asleep, dreaming of candy?Ó Katie 
asked.  Freddie nodded.
         ÒSomeplace up here,Ó Freddie said.
         ÒHow about when IÕm dreaming of Doritos?Ó Katie asked.
         ÒDoritos are salty, not sugary,Ó I told her.
         ÒWell, I want it to snow when IÕm dreaming of Doritos too,Ó Katie 
said.
         ÒTell the Sultan when you see him,Ó Freddie said.  The gingerman 
sitting beside him glanced over at him.  ÒI mean, Licorice Lad, our new 
Sultan!Ó Freddie said.  ÒBring it up with Licorice Lad, when you see him.Ó
         ÒI donÕt want to see Licorice Lad,Ó Katie frowned.  ÒAlthough,Ó she 
added.  ÒI donÕt dislike licorice as much as I once did, when I first heard 
how Licorice Lad had been bad, and taken over Candyland.  Now IÕm starting 
to think itÕs a pretty tasty sort of candy.Ó
         I wanted to disagree, but instead I simply gazed out the window, and 
watched as flakes of sugar fell gently out of the sky.  
         The temperature dropped as our carriage climbed up into the 
mountains.  I began to see patches of snow intermingled with the sugar 
that covered the ground.  Yet, I did not feel exceedingly cold, I found, when 
the coach stopped to let us relieve ourselves again.  Despite being almost 
naked, wearing only my little bikini, squatting and peeing in snow, I felt 
only chilly enough to make my nipples erect.  Katie made a snowball when 
she was finished peeing and threw it at me.  It hit my breasts.  The snow 
wet my top.
         ÒOh!Ó I cried.  I dusted the snow off my bosoms.  Some got inside my 
bra and I had to pull on the fabric and shake it out.  Yet I was not terribly 
cold, even then.  I made a snowball and threw it at Katie.  It hit her tummy.
         ÒOooo, donÕt!Ó Katie whined.
         ÒWell, you threw one at me,Ó I said.
         ÒLetÕs make snow angels,Ó Katie said, brushing snow off her belly.
         We lay down in the snow.  It chilled my back and my legs and my 
bottom.  I waved my arms and legs in the snow.  Then I stood up.  I flung 
my hair back and gazed triumphantly at the design IÕd made.
         ÒLook!  WeÕre angels!Ó I told Katie.
         ÒYes,Ó she enthused.  ÒAnd since IÕm littler than you, that makes me 
The Littlest Angel,Ó she said.
         ÒSuit yourself,Ó I replied.
         ÒLetÕs make some more!Ó Katie said.
         ÒGirls, weÕve got to be moving,Ó Freddie said.
         ÒOh, gee.  Well, bye bye, angels,Ó Katie said.  She waved to the 
designs weÕd made.  We were loaded back aboard the carriage and our 
wrists were tied once more.  We were angels no longer.  We were captives 
again, our hands restrained behind our nude backs, where they couldnÕt 
wave about.  I had a damp bottom from the snow.  But even then I was not 
cold, only chilly, despite the deeper drifts of snow that we now saw as we 
climbed higher and higher into the mountains.
         At nightfall we stopped by some hot springs.  Katie and I undressed 
and bathed.  The water steamed around us and made sinuous, vaporizing 
trails of steam that rose up into the cold night sky.  We gazed up at the 
stars.  Katie tried counting them, but got lost after a bit, managing to 
count no more than about twenty.
         ÒThatÕs why people invented constellations, silly, so they wouldnÕt 
have to try to count each individual star,Ó I told her.
         ÒWell, I donÕt know any consolations, except the Big Dipper,Ó Katie 
pouted.
         ÒThere it is, right there,Ó I pointed.
         ÒYes, but what about the rest of them?Ó Katie said.  ÒThe little stars 
are important too.Ó
         ÒTheyÕre all the same size,Ó I said.
         ÒWell, the less important ones, then,Ó Katie said.  ÒThe ones that 
arenÕt in the Big Dipper.  What about them?Ó
         ÒI dunno,Ó I said.
         ÒSo, thatÕs why IÕm trying to count them all,Ó Katie said.  ÒSo each 
one of them will matter, not just the ones in the Big Dipper.Ó
         ÒIt would help if you knew your numbers then,Ó I told her.
         ÒI know how to count, Bambi,Ó Katie told me.  ÒIÕm not a dumb 
blonde.Ó
         ÒIÕm the blonde,Ó I told her.  I drew myself onto my back in the hot 
steamy water and began floating.  My hair floated out away from me in a 
fan, like the hair of an angel, suspended in heaven.  
         ÒWell, IÕm not a dumb brunette, either,Ó Katie said.  She passed her 
hands through her brown hair.  She turned on her back and began floating 
beside me.  Our hips bumped.
         ÒOkay, tell me all the numbers, then,Ó I told her.  I gazed at the hard, 
cold stars above us.  They looked like pinpricks, I thought.  Perhaps they 
were tiny windows to a Heaven that lay beyond the black veil of night.
         ÒWell, thereÕs one,Ó Katie said.
         ÒDonÕt forget zero,Ó I told her.
         ÒZero isnÕt anything,Ó Katie said.
         ÒAnd what about less than zero?Ó I asked.
         ÒI canÕt count with less than zero,Ó Katie said.  ÒIÕm trying to count 
stars.  How can I count stars with numbers that are less than zero?Ó
         ÒOkay,Ó I said.  ÒWhat comes after one?Ó
         ÒThis is silly,Ó Katie said.  She stopped floating and put her feet 
down into the depths of the pool.  She splashed me.
         ÒHey!Ó I said.
         ÒCount how many times I splash you!Ó Katie cried.
         ÒForget it!Ó I said.  I got out of the pool.  A gingerman gave me a 
towel and I dried myself.  Then I got in my sleeping bag.  I was passed 
dinner and I lay in my sleeping back eating it, on my belly.  My bikini lay in 
a little pile by my head.  I didnÕt feel like putting it back on.  Katie floated 
some more in the pool.  
         ÒOne, two, three...Ó I heard her say, beginning her counting again, 
trying to find all the stars in the sky and make each one feel special by 
counting it.
         In the distance I thought I perceived a sound of something bouncing.
         ÒHow odd,Ó I thought, pausing in my dinner.  It was a dinner of 
fruitcake and cherry pudding, the pudding made from snow gathered fresh 
from the ground, topped with a garnish of sugar.  
         The bouncing sound grew louder.  The gingermen looked up, but didnÕt 
seem alarmed.  It grew louder still and then, suddenly, out of the darkness, 
a big, rotund figure came into view.  It looked like a weird sort of man.  He 
was bald.  He wore big, round glasses.  He was big and fat and glistened 
with sugar, like the mountains we were travelling through.  He wore a frill 
of peppermint-laced icing around his neck.  Mountaineer boots clad his 
short feet.  He had small, stubby arms.  Each of his wrists had an iced frill 
about it that matched the one circling his wide neck.
         ÒHiya!Ó the large, blubbery, frosted being called as he bounced down 
the mountainside and into our camp.  Katie dove down in the pool, fearing 
that we were being attacked.  I shrank into my sleeping bag.  I remembered 
my nudity and grabbed my bikini.
         Freddie, whoÕd been doing some paperwork inside the carriage, 
opened the door to the coach and stepped out.
         ÒGumdrop Guy,Ó he said, acknowledging the fat creature.
         ÒGood evening evening evening!Ó the large man replied.  ÒWhat a 
pleasant night for eating gumdrops and licorice!Ó
         ÒAh, yes.  Good to see you, Gumdrop Guy,Ó Freddie replied.
         The large, fat man pointed at Freddie with one of his stubby fingers.  
ÒThatÕs not a gumdrop youÕre holding.  ThatÕs a pencil!Ó he said.
         ÒWell, yes.  I was doing some writing,Ó Freddie answered.
         ÒWhat?  When you could be eating?Ó Gumdrop Guy asked.  ÒCome, 
come!  Gumdrops for everyone!  Look!  IÕve got a bag of them right here.Ó  
He presented Freddie with a bag.  I saw it was stuffed with gumdrops, all 
different flavors, red and blue and pink and green.  The light from the 
carriageÕs open door made them sparkle.  He opened the bag up and insisted 
on pouring a big handful of them into FreddieÕs palms.  ÒEat!Ó Gumdrop Guy 
commanded.
         ÒGumdrop Guy, I live here,Ó Freddie protested.
         ÒEAT!Ó Gumdrop Guy commanded.  
         To please the fat man, Freddie put a gumdrop into his mouth.
         ÒJust one?Ó Gumdrop Guy said.  ÒGood heavens!  You are uncivilized, 
dear sir.  You lack a proper appreciation for gumdrops.  You should stuff 
your entire mouth full of them, theyÕre so good!Ó
         ÒIÕll have some!Ó Katie offered, gazing at the big fat man from the 
refuge of her steamy pool.
         ÒAh, thatÕs what I like to hear!Ó Gumdrop Guy said.  ÒLittle miss, how 
pleased I am to find you in my fair land.  At last, someone with a proper 
appreciation of gumdrops!Ó  
         Gumdrop Guy waddled over to Katie.  He bent and poured a big handful 
of gumdrops into her wet palms.
         ÒYum!Ó Katie said.  Just as heÕd hoped, she tried stuffing the entire 
handful into her mouth at once.  
         ÒAnd how about you?Ó Gumdrop Guy asked, turning, surveying the 
rest of us.  He spotted me, and the fact that I was eating, and came quickly 
over to where I was.  I drew myself deeper into my sleeping bag.  ÒWhat?  
No gumdrops?!Ó Gumdrop guy asked, gazing intently at my half-eaten plate 
of dinner.  He opened his bag and dumped gumdrops all over my plate.  
ÒEAT!Ó he commanded.  ÒYouÕll never be as big as me if you donÕt eat lots 
of gumdrops!Ó
         Gumdrop Guy went round to the others.  Each of the gingermen was 
forced to accept a big handful of gumdrops.  Even our driver, a quiet, 
unassuming man, was beset with gumdrops, and commanded to eat as many 
as he could.
         ÒThere!Ó Gumdrop Guy said.  He put his hands on his hips and surveyed 
us all.  ÒNow things are much better.  From now on, I expect you all to eat 
lots of gumdrops.  In fact,Ó he said, raising a finger.  ÒI hereby declare it 
to be illegal to eat anything in my Gumdrop Mountains except gumdrops!Ó  
He paused.  He considered a moment, then added, ÒAnd licorice.  You may 
eat a little black licorice also...Ó  
         Gumdrop Guy jumped in the air and landed on his bottom.  He bounced 
up, like a ball.  ÒWell, IÕm off!Ó he shouted.  ÒTootle-ooo!  A pleasant 
gumdrop evening to you!Ó
         I watched from my sleeping bag as Gumdrop Guy bounced off into the 
night.  Katie, her cheeks still bulging with gumdrops, watched from within 
her hot pool.  The gingermen went back to their duties, tending the fire, 
keeping watch.  Freddie went back inside the carriage.
         Finishing my dinner, I rolled on my back and looked up at the stars.  I 
tried to picture what Licorice Lad looked like.  If he was handsome enough, 
I might just choose to like him, even if he had usurped the SultanÕs throne 
and taken over Candyland.  Licorice, I thought, wasnÕt such a bad candy.  
Black licorice was the color of night.  And gazing up at the blackness of 
the night sky above, speckled with stars, snuggled in the warmth of my 
sleeping bag, I considered that I rather enjoyed the night.



         ÒWilma Writ!  Get back here!Ó Ms. Matilda Brunswald shouted.  She 
was standing on a rainbow far out over the sea.  Up ahead, Wilma seemed 
to be moving away from her with increasing velocity.  SheÕd sped by her a 
moment before, and the odd thing was, Wilma was standing still.
         ÒYikes!Ó Affidavit Al cried.  He went flying past Matilda.  He too was 
standing still, on the blue color of the rainbow.  Matilda was standing on 
red and Wilma on yellow.  Glenda Guilty was standing on green.
         ÒOh, my!  IÕm starting to move,Ó Glenda, who was walking, announced.
         ÒWell of course youÕre moving!  ThatÕs what happens when you put 
one foot in front of the other,Ó Matilda declared.
         ÒNo-- I mean move, like on an escalator,Ó Glenda explained.  And, 
indeed, she went shooting past Matilda quite suddenly, faster than she 
could walk.
         ÒYikes!Ó Matilda cried.  ÒIÕm moving too!  And IÕm standing still!Ó
         ÒItÕs turned into one of those People Mover things, like they have at 
the airport!Ó Al cried.  ÒLook!  IÕm standing still, and yet IÕm moving!Ó
         Matilda gazed at the rainbow they were standing on.  Each color of 
the rainbow had suddenly lurched to life, carrying them forward.  Al was 
rushing forward on blue.  Wilma on yellow, Glenda on green.  MatildaÕs 
rainbow beam, red, began shooting her forward at an alarming rate of 
speed.  The wind rushed past her.  It disheveled her hair and pressed her 
dress hard against her body.  Glenda, straining against the wind up ahead, 
lost hold of her briefcase.  It flew back past Matilda and arced down 
toward the sea, far below.
         ÒAAAAAAA!Ó Al cried.  He clung for dear life to his business suit 
coat, lest it be blown off his narrow shoulders.  
         ÒMy hair!Ó Wilma cried.  She had rich, red curly hair, done up in a 
bouffant at the hairstylistÕs.  The wind made a mess of it.
         ÒOh, weÕre going to die!Ó Al whined.  
         Matilda, fearful but not absolutely lost to fear, like Al, gazed down 
at the sea.  Slowly it passed under them.  She felt like a passenger on an 
airplane as she gazed from the heights of the sky down upon it.
         ÒHang onto your hat, weÕre going someplace!Ó Wilma, the one 
farthest ahead, cried back to them.
         ÒNone of us have a hat,Ó Glenda said crossly.
         ÒThen weÕre going to DIE!Ó Al whined.
         ÒShut up, Al!Ó Matilda said.  But the wind grew stronger in her ears, 
as they moved faster and faster.  Soon she could hardly hear herself, when 
she tried shouting to the others.  Her hair streamed behind her and the 
wind whipped her dress back so hard she feared having it ripped off her.
         ÒSomebody should be arrested for this!Ó Wilma, her hair ruined, 
seemed to say.  She yelled it quite loudly, but the wind was so strong 
Matilda could just make it out, and then only by guessing.
         ÒYes indeed!Ó Matilda shouted in reply.  But, due to the wind, she 
didnÕt think anyone heard her.



         Tommy Troll set his machine down at the feet of Licorice Lad.  The 
boy sat on the SultanÕs throne, eating licorice.  His underpants still hung 
off the top of the throne.  He steadied the big candied turban he wore on 
his head and gazed at the machine with interest.
         ÒWell?Ó Licorice Lad asked.
         ÒIÕve made all the necessary adjustments, great Sultan Licorice Lad, 
lord of us all,Ó Tommy said.  ÒNow I need only to turn it on, and any 
humans in Candyland will begin to turn into candy.Ó
         ÒHow long will it take?Ó Licorice Lad asked.
         ÒNo more than a week,Ó the troll assured Licorice Lad.
         ÒA week?Ó Licorice Lad asked.
         ÒMaybe less,Ó Tommy said.
         ÒThis better work, troll, or IÕll double your sentence,Ó Licorice Lad 
scowled.
         ÒOh, yes, great Sultan Licorice Lad, lord of us all!Ó Tommy cried.  He 
twisted a knob.  A pink glow rose from the machine and engulfed the 
throne room.
         ÒI can feel it,Ó Licorice Lad said.  He extended his hands.  The troll, 
too, extended his hands.  He put them over the machine, as if warming his 
hands over a fire.
         ÒYes, master, it is wonderful, is it not?Ó the troll asked.  He beamed 
up at Licorice Lad.  ÒCandification, thatÕs what I call it!  The girls will be 
turned to candy, and then you can keep them forever.  You wonÕt have to 
worry about them slipping away, through the Peppermint Portal.Ó
         ÒGood, good,Ó Licorice Lad said.  ÒHow near to this thing do they have 
to be, for it to work?Ó
         ÒNot near!Ó Tommy replied.  ÒThe rays from this machine will 
emanate throughout Candyland.  All the humans who are guests of your 
realm will be forced to stay and pay homage to you forever.Ó
         ÒYes!  And to my licorice too!Ó Licorice Lad said.
         ÒOh yes, great Sultan Licorice Lad, lord of us all!Ó Tommy said.
         ÒPut this machine up in the highest tower,Ó Licorice Lad said, 
turning to a gingerman who stood by the troll.  ÒI want its rays propagated 
throughout my kingdom as quickly as possible.Ó
         ÒYes, master,Ó the gingerman answered.  He bent and lifted up the 
machine.  Its pink rays glowed brightly in his face and upon his chest.
         ÒBegone, troll!Ó Licorice Lad said to Tommy, with a wave of his hand.  
ÒYou may return to your bridge.  Do not disturb my realm again.Ó
         ÒYes, great Sultan Licorice Lad, lord of us all,Ó Tommy said.  He 
bowed.  Then he backed away from Licorice Lad, bowing repeatedly as he 
went, until he was in the great hall beyond the throne room.  Then he 
turned and ran as quick as he could out of the Citadel of Sweets.
         Up in the tallest sugar cone tower, the gingermen placed the 
machine.  They stood and gazed out over Candyland.  From the tower you 
could see, to the east, the moor, where a pop rock road emerged and ran 
across grasslands to the gates of the Citadel.  To the west floated a sea of 
cream.  Its waves, rolling ashore, left a residue of frosting.  Out on the 
wide creamy sea floated iceberg islands.  Interspersed amongst the big, 
frigid islands, which kept the sea cool, were ice cream bars and orange 
popsicles and striped ice cream sandwiches.  Along the shore of the sea 
groves of lollipops grew.  Their clear, round surfaces shone in the sun.  
Above them all now, a pink glow suffused itself into the clouds, radiating 
from the CitadelÕs tallest tower.  It came from the machine of the troll.  
Far below, running along the pop rock road, the troll could be seen, 
scampering back to his lair.

30

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-When visiting Barnes and Noble, ask for:  Jock SturgesÕ Radiant
  Identities and David HamiltonÕs The Age of Innocence. Support art!
-Also by David Hamilton:  A Place in the Sun, and Twenty Five Years
  of an Artist      Need a book?  http://www.amazon.com
- JOIN the worldÕs greatest organization!  Send $35.00 to The North
  American Man/Boy Love Association for a one-year membership.
  NAMBLA, P.O. Box 174, Midtown Station, New York, NY 10018.
-Naughty Naked Dreamgirls (Library of Congress ISSN: 1070-1427) is
  copyright 1998 and a trademark of Andrew Roller.
-END OF story EMISSION