Attack Of The Lesbian Activist Squirrels: Chapter 7: Part 05: Alchemy And Sports Medicine

Alchemy And Sports Medicine

Working quickly, it took them fifteen minutes to assemble SMEEDA. They’d disconnected the bathroom sink drain and piped SMEEDA directly into the sewer. They’d strung an extension cord for power, rigged a fresh water intake hose, and scarcely had time to check the fittings before the first “batch” arrived. The first batch included several packets of Ukrainian “Thirst Implosion” sports drink and Gertrude’s broken “burner phone”.

The rest of the apartment was soon packed with workers. Gertrude, accustomed to a leadership role in such activities, was barking orders and everyone was rushing to obey.

Gertrude, (a.k.a. The Cleaner) was legendary in her ability to strip from a crime scene every last molecule of evidence. Not just the obvious stuff like corpses and spattered blood but… everything. Bullet holes, carpet fibers, cocaine residue… you name it. If you made a problem, Gertrude could make it disappear.

Gerald’s apartment was tough project. It was a shrine to questionable chemicals. Rather than sort out what’s what, they elected to send everything down the gullet of SMEEDA. Steroids, antibiotics, and testosterone supplements were poured, spooned, dropped, and tossed into the hopper. Exotic Malaysian donkey urine extract, homeopathic muscle relaxants, mayonnaise, protein powder, methamphetamines, Tylenol, laxatives, peanut butter, heroin, herbal tea, gluten free anabolic steroid substrate, cat food, glycerin suppositories, cocoa powder, Adderall, granola, fish tank antibiotics, raw honey… it all went into SMEEDA. There was a brief pause as two workers got into a debate about whether an object in Tupperware was powdered octopus or a mummified rodent; Gertrude gave them both a dope slap and tossed it, Tupperware and all, into SMEEDA.

In addition to a metric assload of chemicals and additives, there were more mundane personal belongings. Half of the closet was for Janice and half was for Gerald. Gertrude ordered it all removed and tossed in the garbage truck that had just pulled up out front. Who knew what residues tainted the fabrics her grandson wore? Best to toss everything. Also, it was embarrassing as hell. Two of the thugs were poking at a hand stitched fur speedo. Gerald had legally purchased it from some wingnut redneck on Etsy but Gertrude didn’t know that. For all she knew it was made of endangered wildebeest hides, processed by a brothel in Thailand, and smuggled stateside in a canister of protein shake mix. She warned the giggling fools to stay focused and have the closets empty in 15 minutes or less.

Besides she needed the closets empty so she could have the rug pulled. A crew was already pulling rug in the hallway. And it only made sense to throw out the furniture on top of the carpet.

Anything too bulky or fibrous to go into SMEEDA, such as the carpet, went into the garbage truck. The speedo, after some deliberation was stuffed into SMEEDA, which ground it up without the slightest hesitation.

Within the hour, the garbage truck had departed… sent directly (and illegally) to the county incineration facility. It was replaced by three different contractor’s vans. New carpet was being laid by one crew that jostled with another busy putting fresh paint on every wall. Meanwhile, the window guy complained loudly about not having enough room to work. In the midst of the chaos, they had their first injury.

As decontamination progressed, nobody wanted to be the first to breach the medicine cabinet. Finally one brave man had opened the door. He paid the price. An off balance container fell, bounced off his chest, and sent up a plume of shimmering blue dust. Shocked, he inhaled some, got the rest in his eye, and smeared a bit on his skin.

Gerald was less a chemist than an alchemist. His concoctions weren’t medicine so much as potions. This particular powder was Gerald’s premier experiment. It contained protein powder, LSD, banana extract, CBD oil, Viagra, caffeine, turmeric, three of his prescription estrogen treatment capsules, and a heaping teaspoon of something he’d purchased from a Haitian witch doctor who claimed to have the ability to create zombies. It would take years to even guess what such a concoction would do. Or, for the victim, about two minutes. He began bleeding from the nose, one eye dilated, the other vibrated, and he began to hear angels. He thought he could ride it out but then the giant space dragon attacked and he tripped over his own erection.

Watching their hallucinating comrade flail about in the bathtub, everyone donned protective gloves and moved far more cautiously. Gertrude decided to stay out of the bathroom from then on.

Soon it was all over. Everything not nailed down had been removed. Every appliance and whatever residues it contained was likewise gone. (Gertrude, well aware of her Grandson’s mental state, had requested replacement appliances “with the lowest level of technology possible”.) The window was mended. New carpet lain. The walls and ceiling were freshly painted. New furniture, hastily chosen but all new and lacking so much as a finger print, was arranged. New plates, new silverware, new wall outlet covers, new drapes… everything glistened with the confident feeling of “search all you want, I just cleaned.”

Gertrude paid handsomely from a seemingly endless stack of $100 bills. She stuffed a double share into the pocket of the unfortunate victim who was sporting a thousand yard stare, mumbling something about “space bats from Uranus”, and kept bumping into walls with an erection from which you could hang a flag. The last to leave were the three men with SMEEDA. This had been an unusual job. Instead of stuffing some squealer, bit by bit, through SMEEDA, they’d just flushed every chemical known to man. Who knew what all of that crap would do? They all wanted a shower. And maybe another shower after that.

“Good job fellas.” Gertrude commended them.

Then, remembering one small detail among many, “Where’s Ali?” she asked.

“Who?”

“The cat! Where’s the cat?”

The three glanced at each other nervously. The silence grew. Finally one spoke up. “Got no idea.”

Gertrude nodded and they beat a hasty retreat.