The Expedition

by Vince Milo

It was a wonderful day for a gynecological adventure. After packing up the last of their equipment, famed explorers Hans Forgen, Betty Forgen, Gary Snow, and the rest of their expedition headed north towards the hoary uncharted regions of Nancy Sherman's vagina.

"Now just hold on one blasted moment!" Col. Mustard fumed. "This is absolutely preposterous! You can't tell me your expedition explored some woman's I can't even say it, it's too ghastly!"

The explorers exchanged glances and turned back to the Colonel. "We certainly did explore Nancy Sherman's vagina," Gary Snow said. "We are scientists, Colonel, not novelists."

"Please let them continue Colonel," Sir Wincelot, the host of the banquet, said turning to the flustered Col. Mustard. "We are all very interested in the Forgens' latest expedition."

"Hmph," the Colonel said, crossing his arms.

"Please continue," Sir Wincelot said turning back to the explorers with a smile.

As they at last approached the fearsome cavern, there was a thunderous boom, and a strong sulfurous gale picked up briefly from beneath, throwing the team in disarray. Fortunately, their mountaineering skills held strong, and they weathered the blast with only a small loss of equipment. The less experienced members of the team, however, were shaken and reluctant to move on. As night was falling, the team decided to break camp a short distance away, in case there were any further eruptions.

"I won't listen to any more of this," the red-faced colonel said, rising from his seat. "The Forgens' are obviously having a little joke at our expense, but I, for one, am not amused. Let's go, Gertrude, I've heard enough vulgarity for one evening."

"Oh stop it Reginald," Gertrude said, not moving. "You are making a scene. If you wish to go then by all means, go. I wish to hear their story."

Col. Mustard was flummoxed. "My dear," he said in a harsh whisper. "Don't embarrass me in front of Sir Wincelot."

"You've already embarrassed yourself, Reginald," Gertrude snapped back. "We all just want to hear the Forgens' story and you've been nothing but a pest the entire time. If you don't want to hear it then leave, otherwise be quiet!"

The other dignitaries at the table applauded Gertrude's defiance and Col. Mustard's face turned almost purple with embarrassment.

"Very well!" he roared hoarsely. "Enjoy your vulgar little jokes everyone! Those of us with a shred of decency will be outside waiting in the carriage for their insolent wives!" With that, Col. Mustard stormed out of the banquet hall, the hoots and jeers of the remaining dignitaries following him out the door.

"I do apologize, everyone," Gertrude said turning back to the table. "Reginald has been under a lot of stress lately."

"Not at all," Betty Forgen said. "We are sorry that we have upset him so. Perhaps we should postpone the retelling of our expedition another time."

The hall erupted into protest immediately. "Now, now, there is no need for that at all," Sir Wincelot said rising with a smile. "We are all enraptured by the tale and could not bear to leave without hearing its conclusion. There will be no further interruptions. Please do go on."

The explorers exchanged glances and at last Hans Jorgen nodded. "Very well," he said and the dignitaries cheered in delight.

The next morning was bitterly cold. After preparing a small breakfast and assuring our hesitant companions that our goal was close at hand, we set off at last towards the looming void.

Col. Mustard shifted angrily in the back seat of his carriage. "The very idea!" he fumed to himself. How dare they make a mockery of him like that. How dare Sir Wincelot allow those jokers to spoil his evening with their coarseness. He would have revenge, oh yes. Things wouldn't be so funny when they found out what he had in store for them!

Tragically, there was nothing to be done for young Albert Johanson. They would have to leave him where he fell, at the bottom of the incalculable darkness. They continued their trek around the edge of the yawning emptiness, ever more wary of the treacherous footing.

"Poor lad," Sir Rupert said shaking his head. "What a terrible loss."

"Indeed," Gary Snow said nodding. "His screams still echo in my mind."

They continued their careful descent until at last they reached solid ground once again. They broke camp, but none could find sleep that night. When they awoke, a small fire was lit and breakfast was eaten in silence. It was some miles on when they found the remains of the Pierson expedition. Their bones lay undisturbed from the last seven years when they had been reported lost. The team at once began the grim task of laying their bodies to rest.

"H-how did they die?" Mr. Greenwald asked nervously.

"Exposure," Hans Forgen said solemnly. "They were not prepared for the extreme conditions. Though it is not pleasant to say, we would have likely have met the same fate if not for their sacrifice."

"Professor Pierson was one of the keenest explorers in the world," Gary Snow supplied. "We knew that he wouldn't have succumbed to anything but the most extreme circumstances. Because of Professor Pierson, we knew Nancy Sherman's vagina held no margin for error."

"Oh no, everyone!" Col. Mustard yelled from the entryway. "A giant testicle has attacked the village!"

"Good lord!" Sir Wincelot said frowning in dismay.

"How vulgar!" Betty Forgen said with a sour expression on her face.

"Go home, Reginald," Gertrude Mustard said shaking her head.

"But, but," Col. Mustard sputtered. "They are talking about an expedition into a woman's vagina!"

A cry of alarm erupted from the group and Lady Wincelot fainted into the host's arms. "How dare you, sir!" Sir Rupert said rising to his feet. "We have tolerated your outbursts long enough, Colonel, but this is the last straw! Remove him at once!"

"What?" Col. Mustard cried as the guards seized him by the arms. "But they are talking about a giant vagina and farts! You can't explore that! The whole thing is preposterous!"

"You sir, are preposterous," Sir Wincelot said, as he fanned the air in front of Lady Wincelot's face. "Coming in here with that kind of language. I don't wish to see your presence here again!"

"But I was just trying to --," Col. Mustard's cries of protest were cut off as the heavy oaken doors closed behind him.

"I am so very very sorry everyone," Gertrude said rising.

"Please don't get up," Sir Rupert said, walking over and helping her back into her seat. "It is obvious that your husband has had too much wine this evening. These kinds of things happen."

"And of course you will not be excluded from any more of our gatherings," Sir Wincelot said, Lady Wincelot now recovered. "I am sure your husband will be on his best behavior from now on."

"Thank you, you are very kind," Gertrude said. "I really don't know what's gotten into him. He's never acted in such a manner before."

"Well, it is of no moment," Sir Wincelot said smiling. "Let us hear the rest of the story and we will call it an evening."

At last we reached our final destination and our eyes were dazzled by a beauty that we had not known possible to exist. All around us lay the shimmering jewels of a forgotten age, a simpler time but no less rich than the luxuries we enjoy today. Ye, though our victory came at a grim price, our achievement reminded us that as long as you believe in yourself, nothing is truly impossible.

"Bravo," Sir Wincelot cheered. (c)2004Vince Milo