Introduction

It is a dark, cold night in the early 1950's. Popular sci-fi is all the rage but what the writers of such pulp fiction do not realise is that there really are things out there that want to destroy mankind. Things not of this world...

Alien Dancing Pants 2: Jovian Jockstrap

Back in the old country,
A few years after the war,
I heard a strange noise,
From behind my wardrobe door.

Inside upon a shelf,
In packaging neatly displayed,
Was a shiny golden jockstrap,
For my bits perfectly made.

It was designed by Calvin Europa,
From Jupiter in outer space,
This Jovian jockstrap was so appealling,
It put a right big smile on my face.

I took it from its packaging,
It felt so strangely smooth,
It reminded me of dancing pants,
That gave the wearer groove.

Suddenly, without warning,
The strap leapt and took flight,
It latched onto my particulars,
And began to squeeze and bite.

The pain was quite unbearable,
My head began to swirl,
The Jovian jockstrap's hidden agenda,
Was to turn me into a girl.

I screamed in total agony,
At this sadistic cough 'n' drop,
I begged and pleaded, cried and wailed,
But the strap just would not stop!

It chewed and chomped relentlessly,
I would lose at such a cost,
The Jovian jockstrap was finally victorious,
My goolies I had lost.

Then it went and left me,
To rid the world of males,
I tried to track the beggar down,
But the jockstrap left no trails.

Now my story comes to an end,
you may think it a little racey,
My mother used to call me Gerald,
But now she calls me Tracy!

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