Rodger watched another leg mold get dipped into the vat of wax.

Working at the wax museum was an interesting job but somehow Rodger
expected more out of life than living in loneliness and working at
a dead end job like the one he had.

The leg mold came up out of the vat and Rodger swung the manipulator
arm around and grabbed the mold with the metal claw.

He let the wax dry while he walked over to attend to a finished leg.

He opened the other mold, revealing the sexy resemblance of a womans
leg.

The room vibrated and shook.

A loud noise coming from the roof told Rodger that the vibrations
were from a helicopter landing.

"What the heck is a chopper doing up there?" he asked setting the
leg down and heading for the stairs.

A little man in a white suit was sitting in the upstairs office

with a glass of champagne.

"What the hell are you doing in my office?" Rodger asked furiously.

"Hubert Crouwly," the old man said offering a handshake. "I'm here
to offer you a little trip to my island."

"What? What are you talking about?" Rodger asked taking a glass
and accepting some champagne from the stranger.

"You are Rodger Thornton, right? The statue and wax artist so well
known for your female replicas?" Mr. Crouwly asked.

"Yes, why?" Rodger asked.

"I'm here to offer you a trip to the ultimate little island retreat.
There's something I really have to show you. It's right in your line
of business. You'll love it," Mr. Crouwly boasted.

"Why should I go?" Rodger asked.

"Because, my friend, I need you. I'll buy this little museum and
give it to you as a gift if you'll come with me to see my island,"
Mr. Crouwly said and sipped some champagne.

Rodger was speechless for a moment and then said,"W-why sure! I guess
I'm going then."

"Fantastic!" Mr. Crouwly said standing up,"Then let's get going."

"Now?" Rodger asked.

"Yes, Rodger," the old man said walking up the stairs to the waiting
helicopter. "Now. There's no time like the present."

___-----___

The ride there was uneventful and when they landed a jeep was waiting
for them.

They rode through the woods along a little dirt road.

"Nice little place you have here," Rodger commented.

"Yes indeed," Mr. Crouwly agreed as they approached a huge gate and
fence.

"Why the big wall?" Rodger asked as some guardsmen opened the gate.

"Ah, don't want to spoil the surprise, my friend," the old man said
and drove on through the gate. "Don't want to at all."

They drove up to a little hilltop and parked.

Across the wide meadows were hundreds, perhaps even thousands of
beautiful young women in various forms of dress and undress.

"Wowie!" Rodger exclaimed. "Where did all these girls come from?"

"Like them?" Mr. Crouwly asked.

"Like 'em? I LOVE 'em!" Rodger said with wide eyes.

"I made them myself," Mr. Crouwly bragged with crossed arms and a
grin. "Got a whole lab and everything. Isn't it great? A woman custom
designed to suit your every need and fantasy. Welcome to Girlastic
Park."

Rodger whistled and a few girls giggled and waved back.

"This is awesome!" Rodger said. "You've got to show me this lab of
yours."

The old man smiled and drove on,"Rodger, my friend, I thought you'd
never ask."

___-----___

They arrived at the main complex and parked the jeep at the foot
of the stone steps.

"Right this way," the old man urged and they walked up and through
the open doorway.

Inside were many statues of nude women striking various poses.

"Wow," Rodger said looking around.

"The entire place is dedicated to the beauty of the female body,"
Mr. Crouwly explained. "It took hundreds of men to build such a place
but I think it's worth it. We're really going to do some great business
here, my friend."

"Business?" Rodger asked.

"Yes, both tourism and custom designed wives for sale," the old man
said with a wink. "We'll make a fortune. Isn't it wonderful?"

"Isn't that like slavery?" Rodger asked.

"Oh no, not slavery," Mr. Crouwly corrected. "I don't approve of
that. What we have here is just a fee for a service. I create the
women, and men will pay me for this service and get to take home
a custom designed girl. Wonderful, wonderful technology exists on
this island, Rodger. You will see. It makes your wax girls look primitive
compared to what I can do here. Come, you must see the rest."

A hunchbacked man walked into the room to greet them.

"Ah, just in time," Mr. Crouwly said. "Rodger, meet my assistant
and good friend, Igor."

"Hello," Rodger said shaking hands with the big man.

"Good to meet ya Rodger," Igore said.

"Igor here will escort you on the remainder of the tour," Mr. Crouwly
said. "Take care of him, will you Igor?"

"Yes master," Igor said and turned to open a door. "This way please,
Rodger."

They walked inside a room filled with theater seats.

A glass panel stood out on the far wall as a viewport to what lay
behind.

"Be seated," Igor said and sat.

Roger sat down and the room moved slowly to the left.

A narrator spoke out as they proceeded past various observation points.

"Welcome to Girlastic Park," the female voice said. "The place where
girls come true."

"Neat," Rodger said as the ride proceeded.

A slide show came on and displayed the making of the park.

Then they saw a room where some machines were hard at work.

"This is the girl factory," the narrator said. "Please notice how
every girl is designed with the utmost care during her creation.
The machine you see before you is a biological conversion unit. We
can take virtually anything living and make it into a custom designed
woman. Gorillas have been successfully converted in such manner during
testing. For our purposes, the gorilla is the perfect animal for conversion.
After conversion, we modify the brain patterns slightly to correct for
remnants of animal behavior. Indeed, our girls are perfect. See for
yourself."

"You turn gorillas into women?" Rodger asked. "Isn't that a bit
sick and demented?"

Igor shrugged,"I just work here. I don't pretend to understand what
goes on. All I know is this stuff brings me a nice paycheck each month.
I could care less how demented it is as long as I get my money."

The ride ended shortly after that.

"Wow," Rodger said in the lobby. "It sure was an interesting ride."

"Thanks," Igor said and handed Rodger a key. "Here's your room key.
It's located upstairs. Please get settled and meet down here for breakfast
in the morning."

___-----___

That morning, after a large breakfast, Rodger and Mr. Crouwly went
inside one of the larger labs.

Conveyer belts rolled along around the room noisily.

"This is the beauty parlor," Mr. Crouwly said gesturing to a few
young blondes who were lying on their backs, nude, while the conveyer
belts took them through several machines. "We make the girls in the
next room, then the conveyers take them here where the ladies get
full make overs. We also use this room for a general purpose beauty
parlor and plan on using it a lot for some of the guests in the future."

Rodger stood beside an oval shaped machine.

"This one is the leg waxer," Mr. Crouwly explained. "Takes all the
hair off the rest of the body as well. This other machine does the
hair styles and this one over here does facials."

"Neat stuff," Rodger said loudly over the humm of the machinery.

They walked through an archway and into another room.

There were several metallic suits hanging from racks on the walls.

"These are the exoskeletons we use to train our new women on posture
and etiquette," Mr. Crouwly said patting the steel cylinders on one
suit. "Our ladies must walk and move like ladies. These suits provide
thorough training."

"What are these plugs for?" Rodger asked looking at some wires protruding
from a helmet.

Mr. Crouwly looked and said,"Ah, you have found the behavioral interface
ports that we use to record the posture data directly into the subjects
mind. Enough wear of one of these suits and walking like a woman becomes
second nature. Would you care to try one out, Rodger?"

"No thanks," Rodger said looking away from the suits nervously. "I'm
fine the way I am. Thank you."

"So you think," Mr. Crouwly said with a grin. "So you think. Well,
then, let us continue on with this tour. Follow me, then, into our
other mental conditioning rooms. Once our ladies walk and move like
ladies, we bring them here."

The room had several machines with helmets attached.

"What do these machines do?" Rodger asked examining a helmet.

"Selective memory enhancement," Crouwly said. "We can make our new
women have entirely new memories. Give them full lives. Make them
remember growing up from childhood and round out their knowledge base
so they become true women and not mere constructs."

They walked in through some doors and Crouwly quickly escorted Rodger
through a room full of little girls and into another room.

"What was back there?" Rodger asked curiously.

"Nothing, never mind," Crouwly said blushing.

"You had little girls in there," Rodger stated. "Whats really going
on here? I though this was a facility for making wives for men. What
is this?"

"We make girls of all ages," Crouwly explained. "Please forget what
you saw back there. You will be more interested in this room."

They stood in a room full of womens clothing.

"And why should I especially be interested in dresses?" Rodger asked.

Mr. Crouwly looked around absent-mindedly and said,"You know what?
I took you to the wrong room after all. My mistake. We need to go
to the theater for a quick movie before the tour continues. What do
you say? Does a movie and some popcorn sound nice? Let's go then."

Rodger followed his host down some corridors and felt unsure about
the entire operation. There was something wrong going on about this
island, Rodger was sure of it. He had to find out what it was and
to do that he needed to get away from the tour and do some exploring
on his own.

___-----___

The next morning, Igor escorted Rodger out to a waiting jeep.

"Come on, my boy, or we'll miss the festivities," Mr. Crouwly said from
behind the wheel.

"Festivities?" Rodger asked getting in the back seat.

"Oh, I forgot to mention," Mr. Crouwly said. "We share this isle with
some natives whom simply refused to move out. They have quite an interesting
culture, and I must say, quite a fatal bit of disease going about. Pray you
keep away from those infected, Mr. Thornton, or you may never leave this
isle alive."

"I am sorry master," Igor said weeping.

"Nevermind that now, Igor, we have a guest," Crouwly said.

"What disease?" Rodger asked.

"Igor can answer that for you," Crouwly said gesturing to his assistant
in the passenger seat.

"It is far worse than ebola," Igor explained. "Nobody survives who gets it.
Yet there is a legend tied in to all this that-"

"Nevermind," Mr. Crouwly interrupted. "Nevermind all that. The legend is
mere superstition. The important part is the natives expect to meet all
visitors to this island. It is part of our little arrangement. I'm sure
you'll understand when you see the festival this morning. There are
simply some things you must be prepared to see. Simple formalities, nothing
more."

"What is the name of this fatal disease?" Rodger asked looking at the
jungle as they rode through a windy dirt path.

"Have you ever studied Egyptian culture?" Mr. Crouwly said, changing the
subject. "It is quite interesting how they prepared their leaders for the
afterlife."

Igor smiled and pointed off to a stretch of graveyard nestled within the
misty trees.

"You aren't saying there's any of that mummification going on in this
place?" Rodger asked.

"They believe it frees the tormented soul," Mr. Crouwly explained. "Those
who are afflicted with this disease have but one recourse to save their
souls."

"Mummification?" Rodger guessed.

"Exactly Rodger," Crouwly agreed and pulled the jeep down a side road
into the graveyard.

"Where are you going now?" Rodger asked.

"To show you, lest you be unprepared if you catch the disease," Crouwly
said grinning and driving up the foggy road.

Rodger looked at his host with certain unease,"But we'll miss the
festival."

Crouwly turned around and smiled back,"You don't understand . . ."

"This IS the festival," Igor completed with a wicked smile.

"True, Igor," Crouwly said. "But more than that, this is to educate
our guest so that he doesn't fall prey to betrayal so easily."

"Betrayal?" Rodger asked.

"We'll talk of that later, when we meet the little mayor," Crouwly said
looking at Igor with anger. "For now, let's go see what is in store for
those who catch this illness."

The jeep stopped beside a wide meadow and they all got out.

The fog was just burning off and bits of mist still hung in low spots
along the grass.

Several gray figures sat in the middle of the meadow.

"Who are those people?" Rodger asked looking at how the strangers
meditated so quietly.

When they got up to the spot where the seven figures sat, Rodger realized
these were no meditators.

"Why that's an odd way to mummify a person."

"Exactly, Rodger." Mr. Crouwly agreed.

"Why would someone mummify a person into a sitting position?"

"Rodger, nobody did this to these poor souls," Crouwly clarified. "The
afflicted come out to places like this and mummify themselves."

"But that's impossible! Don't they remove some of the internal organs
first? What about the embalming?" Rodger asked in shock looking at the
gray bodies sitting there wrapped tightly in their bandages.

"The disease takes care of all that," Igor said.

"You see, that is the effect of the horrible disease. The body embalms
itself through a painfully slow process. The bandages are a mere
afterthought.
Mere superstition," Crouwly explained. "These people should be given a
proper
burial if I had any say in the matter but the natives simply insist on their
customs."

Off in a far corner of the meadow, some natives were escorting a few sickly
looking people to sit beside some other mummified bodies.

"We can only watch from afar," Crouwly said looking on. "The disease is
highly contagious but you will see that the natives do indeed complete the
process themselves by wrapping their dying bodies with rot moss."

Slow screams echoed across the meadow as the victims suffocated at their own
hands.

"You see, the Zugla priests simply see to it that the process is complete.
Then they bring the arms to rest away from the face. Otherwise you would see
these poor souls sitting here mummified with their hands frozen in a clawing
position at their faces for air," Crouwly said tapping his watch. "Well,
must
be getting along. Have to go meet the little mayor of this community. Quite
an interesting fellow."

"He's a vampire," Igor warned.

"Oh, nothing of the sort," Crouwly said with a fake slap towards his
assistants face. "Igor speaks of the legend. There is really nothing to
fear of these people save their disease. Well, that and their cooking.
They brew up the most horrid stews I've ever tasted in my life. Too much
seaweed or something. Just hideous."

"What legend?" Rodger asked walking back to the jeep with them.

A bird cried out from the jungle.

"It is the most ridiculous legend that I have ever heard," Crouwly said
entering the jeep. "We'll talk no more of it on this part of the island.
Come, we must greet the little mayor."

"You still haven't answered my first question," Rodger said.

"Which was?" Crouwly asked starting the engine.

"What is the name of this disease?"

"Kepakra," Crouwly answered. "The unliving nightmare. Pray you never catch
it, my friend."

They rode along down through the jungle through the cool morning air.

___-----___

Grass huts surrounded them as they drove through the village.

Enormous stone footpaths led upward into the hills to even more dwellings.

The people on the streets were clothed in red and white rags, looking
less like the Polynesian natives Rodger expected, than a people out of
some Egyptian land long ago.

"Keep away from the window shutters," Igor warned. "Blood drinkers hide
in there."

"Superstition," Crouwly spat. "Cut it out, Igor, or I shall leave you here
with your legendary friends."

They parked the jeep at the base of a bamboo stairway that led to a huge
grass hut with several stone towers protruding from the corners.

"The little mayor lives here," Crouwly said getting out of the jeep with
the others. "Come on. Follow me up to the lobby. I think you will enjoy
this visit."

___-----___

The room was spacious and decorated with bamboo furniture. Many animal
heads hung from the walls as token memories of hunts throughout the years.

A skinny fellow with matted brown hair sat in a small chair sipping his
tea. A shiny silver medallion hung from his neck and his fingers were
adorned with many gold rings.

"Hello there, my little mayor," Crouwly said with a bow. "I have brought
you my newest guest. This is Mr. Rodger Thornton."

"Pleased," the mayor said with a nod and setting his cup down.

"Mr. Thornton worked in a wax museum, you know," Crouwly said proudly.

"Indeed," the mayor said standing. "Have you shown him our little museum?"

"He has been to the ceremonial yard," Crouwly admitted. "We just came from
there. Your traditions never cease to fascinate me."

"So glad to meet you mayor," Rodger said at last.

"You may call me Runatet," the mayor smiled. "Mr. Crouwly often insists
upon calling me by my title but I am not the founder of this village. Just
a sort of groundskeeper until the return of Sigil. So you and I are sort
of in the same business then, are we?"

Rodger looked up at the dark open attic above and said,"Well, I wouldn't
compare ritual burial to making a wax figure exactly."

Runatet laughed and offered his guests to take a seat,"Do have some tea.
I think we have more in common than you might imagine, Rodger. I am keeper
of the undead while you craft lifelike figures out of unliving material.
Don't you find that an amusing coincidence?"

Rodger looked at Crouwly who sipped at his tea while Igor seemed to just
sit there looking bored.

"What do you mean?" Rodger asked.

"Your friend the waxman is quite ignorant," Runatet said to Crouwly. "Shall
we tell him?"

Igor coughed and stood up to leave.

"No, Igor, please stay," Crouwly said gesturing back to a chair. "You knew
this was going to happen when I brought him."

A few men in black robes entered into the room, carrying with them some
bowls and rags.

"I am sorry master," Igor said getting on his knees. "I didn't mean to
betray you."

The Zugla priests walked over to Igor, paused, then walked to stand beside
Mr. Crouwly.

"It is too late for being sorry, Igor," Mr. Crouwly said standing up and
following the priests out of the room. "From now on, Mr. Thornton shall be
your master."

"What is going on here?" Thornton asked. "Where are you going, Crouwly?"

"Igor will explain," Crouwly answered as the priests took him down a dark
hallway. "I was tricked into a bargain I never fully understood. For once,
Igor is smarter than his master."

Runatet poured some more tea for Rodger and said,"Looks like you're the
new owner of Girlastic Park."

"No paperwork or anything?" Rodger asked.

"It's in his will," Igor explained.

Rodger set his cup down,"His will?"

"He is already dead," Runatet said with a wave of his hand. "He caught a
strain of Kepakra, though you'd never know it to see him walking about as
if nothing were the matter. He'll be stiffer than a board tomorrow, I'm
afraid."

"I injected him with the virus," Igor said wiping a tear from his face.

"You what?!" Rodger said.

"He was an evil man. He made me do things - I went through the machines.
You don't understand," Igor cried. "I had to kill him, but don't worry,
he'll live on forever this way. The Legend allows it. He'll return. You'll
see. I didn't really kill him if he'll return."

"What legend?" Rodger queried.

Runatet smiled and displayed long, sharp fangs.

"Vampires," Igor pointed at the mayor. "Vampires."

"But that's ridiculous. Why, it's broad daylight outside!" Rodger pointed
out.

"Vampires do not always need fear the light of day," Runatet said patting
his medallion. "As long as the Goddess is with them."

"Girl machines, incurable diseases, mummys, and now VAMPIRES?" Rodger said
standing up and tossing his napkin down on the table. "I don't know what
kind of vacation resort you people are running but I for one don't want
to be a part of it. Just send me back to my museum and let's forget this
whole deal."

"You can never return to tell what you have seen here," Runatet said. "For
if you do, I will find you and make you a permanent part of your own
museum. You are going to run Girlastic Park and you are going to like it."

Igor smiled and raised his eyebrows,"Oh, how you will love this place.
Let me show you."

Igor extended his hand out and Rodger slapped it down.

"You people freak me out," Rodger said backing toward the door. "What - did
you expect to bring a curator of a wax museum out in the middle of
happyland and then show me death, mummy's, and vampires and expect me
to kiss your freaking hand in thanks?"

"Yes," Igor said with a wink. "I think he's got it now, mayor."

"Well you're BOTH wrong!" Rodger said running for the door.

"The keys are in the ignition!" Igor yelled as Rodger Thornton ran outside
and down the stairs to the jeep. "Run all you want, master, I won't stop
you!"

Runatet stood up and shook Igors hand,"He took it rather well, don't
you think?"

"Yes, mayor," Igor said rolling his eyes up to look at the darkness among
the rafters. "At least your children won't go thirsty tonight."

"Exactly," Runatet grinned, showing his fangs. "You think of everything,
Igor. I am glad you are not too upset about your former master."

Igor pulled out a silver medallion necklace and smiled with fangs of his
own,"Master will join us, will he not?"

Runatet laughed wickedly and pat Igor on the back.

"He will, he will, my friend."

Wings fluttered in the attic and the wind howled outside.

___-----___

Rodger drove like his life depended on it.

The jeep bumped along the dirt road past the graveyard and Rodger imagined
those mummy's sitting there in the meadow, glaring at him with empty eyes.

"Damn, damn, damn!" Rodger said pounding the dashboard. "Can't this thing
go any faster?"

His foot pressed the gas pedal hard to the floor.

Dangling tree limbs swooped by as the jeep sped forward through the jungle.
Birds scattered upwards into the canopy of vegetation, crying in fear as
the tiny vehicle sped past.

"God I got to get out-a heeeeeere!" Rodger yelled gripping the steering
wheel tightly.

The ground trembled as the jeep bumped over tree roots and rocks.

"Where the hell did the road go?!!" Rodger panicked coming to a halt at
the edge of a stream.

He threw the stick into reverse and backed up at full speed.

"Where's the road?!"

He finally found the turn he'd missed and spun the vehicle around and
headed at full speed towards the lab.

Shadows played across the top of the jeep and trickles of sunlight
peered down through the trees above.

He drove at a wild speed across the meadow, nearly running over several
young women, and he slammed the brakes right in front of the main lab.

"What's the hurry honey?" a blonde woman asked running her hands along his
left arm.

"Lemme go. I gotta get off this stupid island," he said opening the door.

"Oh, take me with you, pleeeeeeease!" she begged clutching onto his waist.

"Lemme go! Come on, this ain't no game, monkey lady! I gotta get outa here!
Where's the helicopter?" he asked.

She pointed to the roof,"That thing?"

"Great, now where's the stairs to the roof?" he asked pushing her away.

"In there," she said following him in through the lobby. "Wait for me,
darling! I'm coming too!"

He started up the stairs and noticed the woman was following after him.

"Come on. Leave me alone," he said.

"No! You're mine," she insisted lunging forward.

"Damn it! I don't have time for this."

"I neeeeeeed you," she pleaded, lunging forward and clawing at the banister.

Rodger hurried up the stairs and found himself on the second floor lobby.
The other staircase was a hundred yards across from where he stood.

"Stupid monkey bitch," he said running past lounge chairs and potted plants.

"Come back my prince!" the woman cried following after with a happy smile
of anticipation on her face.

He hurried over to the other side of the room and made it to the base of
the staircase.

A bellboy stepped out of the shadows and said,"What's the hurry master? The
helicopter is out of service."

"Igor!" Rodger yelled. "How the hell did you-?"

Igor tossed off the bellboy cap and threw a tangle of wires on the floor.

"When you gotta fly, you gotta fly, but not for you master," Igor said
drawing closer, revealing his fangs.

"My God, man! See a dentist!" Rodger said throwing a potted sapling into
Igors path.

"Sweeti-nookums?" the woman said stepping out from behind Rodger.

"Oh, great Lord! Now the monkey lady! What next?" Rodger said rolling
his eyes and running away through the lobby.

Rodger ran to the other staircase and headed back down the stairs.
There were some women in the main lobby now. Evidently they were looking
at what all the commotion was about.

"Darling!" they all said in unison.

"Oh, this isn't going to be pretty," Rodger said hopping over the banister
and landing in an ornamental pond.

He got out, soaked, and ran down the hall.

Machinery hummed noisily as Rodger ran past conveyer belts and into another
room.

He saw Igor on the other side of the room, grinning evilly.

"Master can run, but not hide," Igor said hissing.

Metal suits hung on the walls and Rodger unhooked one and lunged forward
with it into Igor.

"I'll bite you with less pain if you don't struggle, master," Igor suggested
from under the pile of metal.

A vase smashed over Igor's head just then, knocking him out.

"I won't let icky old Igor hurt you, my darling," the woman said hugging
Rodger from behind.

"Get off me," Rodger urged pushing her aside and lifting the exoskeleton
to one side. "No, wait. Help me get him in this thing. We have to restrain
him or something for when he comes to."

___-----___

A splash of water woke up Igor.

"Hi there, my little traitorous geek," Rodger said throwing another glass
of water at Igor. "Awake yet? Oh, I'm sorry. You're undead. You're always
awake, right?"

He splashed another glass of water on Igor.

"Give me more water," Rodger said to the woman. "And keep it coming."

"What are you doing?" Igor said struggling in the exoskeleton. "Let me go
master."

Splash!

"Ain't revenge a happy thing?" Rodger said handing the woman an empty cup
and taking another one full of water. "I'm going to drown you in cupfuls
of water for awhile. Just until I'm satisfied. Then I'll leave you to some
posture exercises."

"Huh?" Igor said struggling in the metal frame. "No, not that! No, master,
not that!"

Splash!

"Okay, I'm happy," Rodger said flipping a switch on the side of the
exoskeleton. "Now you'll be happy."

The machine came to life and Igor brought the back of his hand up to
his forehead.

A recorded womans voice came out of a little speaker,"Posture, sweetheart,
posture and etiquette please."

Igor started swaying about in the bulky suit.

"Ahhhh! Nooooo!" Igor pleaded.

"Well," Rodger said looking at the power cables running to the suit. "What
do you think? With unlimited power supply and one undead creature bound to
live forever. Which will happen? Will the machine wear out or the monster?"

"You! I'll get even with you, master," Igor said putting his hand on his
hip and walking back and forth in the little room.

"Posture, sweetheart. Let's have a little more etiquette please," the
recording continued on.

"You are so good," the woman said hugging Rodger.

"I know," he said kissing her. "That's why I'm the master. There's just
one litte thing I'm curious about that I'm dying to try."

"What?" the woman asked.

___-----___

Rodger got on his back, naked, and let the conveyer belt pull him along
towards the machine.

"Are you sure, my dear?" the woman asked crying.

"Positive," Rodger answered. "Now stand back."

A little auditorium slowly rolled by outside the glass window and
a narrators voice said,"This is the girl factory. Please notice how
every girl is designed with the utmost care during her creation...."

The conveyer pulled him into the first machine and Rodger was engulfed
in darkness, perfumed steam, and loud mechanical hums.

He emerged from the other side of the machine moaning. He was all wet
and pink in the flesh.

Some girls were sitting in the auditorium watching and clapping their
hands excitedly.

"....The machine you see before you is a biological conversion unit. We
can take virtually anything living and make it into a custom designed
woman," the narrator went on.

"Oh this feels strange," Rodger said weakly as the conveyer belt pulled
him into another bit of machinery.

He felt invisible hands run all over his flesh, shaping it into something
else.

The conveyer pulled him outside and he heard the narrator again.
". . . After conversion, we modify the brain patterns slightly to correct
for remnants of animal behavior."

The next machine welcomed Rodger inside with a charming womans voice.
He felt his mind seem to scramble all up into confused, frightened,
little knots. Then everything seemed wonderful.

"Congratulations, dear. You are now a woman," the machine told him.

The conveyer escorted him along and he heard the narrator continue,"Indeed,
our girls are perfect. See for yourself."

Rodger stood up off the machine, trembling slightly, and looked around
the room feeling better than he'd ever felt in his life.

"It worked," she said looking down at herself. "It really worked."

She walked out of the room, much to the protest of the workers who kept
insisting she go through the beauty parlor machine.

She stood before a mirror in the hall and examined her naked female body
fully.

She was a brown eyed brunette woman. Just about five feet tall, probably
just an eighteen year old, and as pretty as can be.

"Well, now that I got a new body. I wonder how to escape off this
island," she said walking down the hall to the clothing room.

___-----___

She pulled a dress off the rack and out stood the mayor.

"Runatet?" She asked startled.

The monster revealed its fangs,"Yes, my lovely lady."

"What are you going to do to me?" she asked.

"Immortalize you," he said moving to embrace her.

She cried briefly before fainting as he bit into her neck.

___-----___

She sat in the meadow looking at the jungle with sadness.

"My sweet, you will live forever this way," Runatet reminded her. "Now
please finish bandaging up yourself."

With slower and slower movement in her arms, she wrapped her body up with
the rot moss. Wet, slimy rot moss.

Her eyes gazed out upon the misty meadow as she finished covering her
face, leaving her to scream in muffled darkness.

___-----___

She heard voices throughout the centuries as she sat there in the meadow
living onward through time. She was too weak to scream for help anymore
yet people would always visit and leave her all alone once more.

Then one day someone removed the bandages from her eyes....

"My God! She's alive!" someone said.

More bandages were removed and she smiled a lovely smile, hardly revealing
her fangs at all.

"It's a miracle," someone said. "We've saved one. It's a miracle."

"Welcome to Girlastic Park," she said laughing madly in the wind. "Now,
where's the powder room? I'm just dying to see what this has all done
for my complexion."

---