Masturbation, chanting, and sweetcorn don’t mix… (or ‘The Time Pooflake Joined a Cult’)

Way back in the late 70’s when it seemed almost a pre-requisite to join one band of fruitloops or another, I decided to focus my lack of interest from the ladies into something productive. I therefore looked for something local that could offer divination, cheap food and cheaper (maybe even free) love

I didn’t get to join a famous ‘cool’ cult like ‘The Family’ or the ‘Branch Davidians’ – Nope, I wisely decided that all the really hot chicks would already be spoken for at those places so I went for the lesser known “High-Spirit Verde Gargantua” cult of Cheswick.

Their fundamental code of the group was based on their belief in the ‘holy scrolls of ευχάριστα’ which state that any day now, the Jolly Green Giant from the tinned sweetcorn adverts would return from his 7000 year frozen state and stamp across the land, smiting anybody that wasn’t showing him the blessed ’two finger salute of sweetcorny goodness-a-plenty’

At the recruitment centre I was shown a presentation by Aackbar Endemol, the cult leader (although he didn’t like the word ‘Leader’ as only the Giant himself was our true leader…Aackbar insisted on being called simply ‘The Host’)

Despite the fact the Aackbar had decided that the usage of speech was below him, and he only communicated through the medium of mime, he still managed to wow my young imagination with demonstrations on how I would become a general of the New Giant World Order, and if I played my cards right I might be able to squat at the throne of the JGG for him to rest one of his giant bare stampy green feet on my back…

Of course, I signed over ownership of my parent’s house straight away, and after initial introductions I adapted to the communal life very well (although the diet of tinned sweetcorn for breakfast, dinner and tea every day certainly didn’t do my digestive system much cop…I was squitting out entire solid cobs after about 4 days).

I must admit however I certainly did ‘cut a dash’ in my Hessian robes and flowery print headband…I felt it was only a matter of time before I would be beating off a bevy of brainwashed beauties with the sacred ‘Shitty Stick of Telesphoros’.

After a week, the day of my Indoctrination ceremony finally arrived and I was informed that it would consist of a 24 hour non-stop masturbation-fest until the penis turns green in honour of the JGG. I had arrived!

The thought of this marathon meat-beating session didn’t put me off at all – many was the times I have fwapped myself blurrilly into the next day.

I was a little taken aback however, when I was told that it was not actually going to be myself I would be ‘jiggling the wiggler’ with…

‘Get in there!’ I proclaimed as I imagined some lithe lovely squirming on the end of my over-eager digits.

Unfortunately it was at this point that I was introduced to Delroy, a strapping six-footer who used to play scrum half for the Exeter Chiefs Rugby Club. As he walked into the room and de-bagged his dunghampers, I realised it was going to be a long day…in every sense of the word.

Aackbar mimed instructions at me in a frenzy, insisting that I was to get cracking straight away, because although Delroy wasn’t actually a full member of the cult, he had paid his £100 for the day-long five-knuckle shuffle up front.

The hours passed by slowly as the gathering throngs murmered the chant ‘Ho-ho-ho Green Giant’ as I endlessly tugged on Delroy’s pud until it turned the exact shade of ‘Opulent Olive’ from the Dulux summer gardens catalogue.

After my experience was over I was rinsed off with the ‘Fire hose of Splash-ma-tron’ and informed that I was finally being taken to view the Cult’s ‘higher purpose’. I was then led into a room packed with sophisticated technology and radar equipment

The Host then mimed to me that the higher Giant worshippers had been attempting for the last few years to take over control of the Hubble telescope, so they could convert it into a massive projector, which could cover the night sky over Western Europe with detail’s of the sweetcorn-in-a-can Lord’s teachings…and also some competitively priced advertising space (with the right product placement contracts).

I was then introduced to Mosesolina (or Mo for short). She was a techie working on the project and was fist-bitingly beautiful. I instantly fell in love and asked what I could do to assist her work. As she popped her hand up my smock and tickled my gentlemen’s vegetables she calmly replied ‘Nowt just yet…maybe later’.

Although I was entranced by her beauty, I was distracted by a little red flashing light above the console panel and I enquired to Mo what it meant. Mo immediately leapt over and shut the machine down. She then explained as she thanked me profusely that the warning light meant that they were being tracked by NASA…and if I hadn’t alerted her our whole operation would have been discovered.

That would have resulted in her expulsion from the order; following her punishment of the ‘Biblical bum rape by Blood Orange’ which is an experience few have survived…and even fewer enjoyed.

As a ‘thank you’ for my sharp eyed chivalry, Mo reached into her pocket and presented me with a present…

It was a Polo…Her blessed ‘last Polo in the packet’ in fact – and it was her most treasured possession…her one sacred memory from the outside world and her escapism from constant sweetcorn. As she handed it to me I realised once and for all that I should leave the cult and try and re-integrate into the general public again.

So I made good my escape…but sadly...I never saw Mo again…

The experience is now just a distant memory, but I have the Polo mounted in a trophy cabinet to this day, (although it’s gone a bit dusty and rank), and it will always remembered as:

‘Mime-host Gaul-Hubble Mo-mint’



I’ll never look at sweetcorn the same way again I can tell you…
( Pooflake braces for an onslaught..., Tue 26 Aug 2008, 12:06, 11 replies)

i was gullible enough
not to realise until the last sentance that it was a pun post.

what an obscure imagination you have.
(Dan dan dan They tik urh jerbs!!!, Tue 26 Aug 2008, 12:16, closed)

Top marks - see me after school!
*hugs*
( Tourette's ( . )( . ) has a monkey hair in her fried egg, Tue 26 Aug 2008, 12:22, closed)

Ban this sick filth!
But don't really. You flake-y genius, you.
( crackhouseceilidhband Fuck off back to Mumsnet, Tue 26 Aug 2008, 12:31, closed)

I knew it was all a big lie
when I read I was squitting out entire solid cobs

You can't squit solids ffs.
( Madam Marlboro wonders if you've found her yet, Tue 26 Aug 2008, 12:50, closed)

I can't believe
it's not butter I didn't see that punchline coming.

*bangs head on desk*
( K2k6 has a proper job these days, Tue 26 Aug 2008, 12:51, closed)

Someone
has far too much time on his hands ...

*click*
(TheWeeWitch hasn't been here much recently .., Tue 26 Aug 2008, 14:00, closed)

And yet when you meet Pooflake in the flesh.....
his genius is not apparant.....strange that.
( girlinthehole, Tue 26 Aug 2008, 14:25, closed)

^ you said FLESH
Bless him, what a honey.
And thank you so much for not chasing me ;o)
( Tourette's ( . )( . ) has a monkey hair in her fried egg, Tue 26 Aug 2008, 14:54, closed)

Worth every second of reading time that was
*clicks like a madman*
( Jeccius Steam Borderlands 2 junkie, Tue 26 Aug 2008, 16:02, closed)

Oh dear
I can't believe I didn't see that coming.



*sniggers. I said "coming"*

*Click*
(Captain Placid 24/7 ball gags, brownie mix and clown porn, Tue 26 Aug 2008, 17:21, closed)

what... the...
FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK
(Tyraen, Wed 27 Aug 2008, 11:24, closed)