T H E S C R OTU M S C R O L L S
Kartik Iyengar
Chief Editor Devyani Kalvit Storyline theme Rohit Tiwari
‘Driving across India, treating those they meet in a straightforward way, Kartik Iyengar and Rohit Tiwari’s natural openness and humorous attitude have created a positive atmosphere of friendship and cooperation. May this book of their trip be a great success.’ ~The Dalai Lama
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Hell Ride—Surfing with the Aliens
Close-range encounters with flying saucers and aliens can be broken down into the following five categories:
Close encounters of the first kind: Just a piddly sighting of a flying saucer or any Unidentified Flying Object (UFO) that one reports to TV and radio channels for fame. This is the kind of shit you get to see on YouTube, Twitter and Facebook. It is analogous to fake orgasms. Pure crap. Close encounters of the second kind: Similar to the first kind, but one gets to see some real cool stuff like damaged vehicles, burnt vegetation and broken beer bottles. Gory sights include injured people, mutilated pigs and shrieking newspersons on TV. Similar to the aftermath post a Metallica concert. Close encounters of the third kind: This is the kind of stuff they make movies about. One gets to meet the ugly aliens in this kind of an encounter. There is contact, albeit restricted to the visual or aural kind only. Almost like watching porn. Close encounters of the fourth kind: Similar to the third kind, just that one is subject to some awful, torturous alien sex and at times to some far out experiments. Not unlike an orgy.
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Close encounters of the fifth kind: This is the real deal. This is when it gets really ugly. Not just restricted to alien sex, but this one is way beyond. The abductee is instructed to save the world. Worse, at times the abductee is tortured to write a book like this one just to agonize the world by subjecting humans to buy and read the same. They call me Chief Redbull. I was there. My friends and I saved the world from destruction on 21 December 2012. Nobody knows our story. It’s time the world knew about it just to respect it a bit more. b The alien abduction The room was dark and dim. No, not because I was there. True, I am dark and dim, but even I cannot influence a whole room. I cannot even influence a dumb doorknob. I can only wish that I were so awesome. The place looked and stank like an operation theatre. I was strapped to a bedpost that seemed like a stretcher glued to the wall. The last I remembered, I was packing my rucksack, waiting to board a flight. Given my history with airlines, not once had I been able to board on time without my name being called out by an irate airline attendant. I was hunting for my tickets when there was a blinding flash of light. When I woke up, I found myself in this dingy laboratory, all tied like a trussed-up chicken. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Hound, Goose and Derek—all of them tied up too, strapped up in nightgowns, looking like Egyptian mummies inside a tomb. Hell! We
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were supposed to meet at the airport. What had happened? What are we doing in here, strapped down like victims in an S-and-M bar? Worse, there were neither naked girls around us nor were there any pole dancers. I tried to scream, but no words came out of my mouth. There was a small window beside my bed. With great difficulty, I strained my neck and managed to look outside. What I saw was beautiful. I was shocked, for I realized that I was looking at what seemed to be the Earth below. Slowly, it dawned upon me that we had been abducted and were inside an alien spaceship that was circling the Earth. Holy fuck! This was so cool! ‘Let me go! I hate being tied down! I don’t want to date someone who ties me up like this!’ Goose let out an Earthshattering squawk, which I’m pretty sure was heard all across our galaxy. ‘Let me come! Bring her on!’ Derek howled in a throaty voice, as though expecting Angelina Jolie to come and straddle him. Hound was busy trying to bite the straps that had him tied down. It was futile. Well, at least I had these three morons for company. I was miserable, but I was not alone in my misery. ‘Shut up!’ growled Hound, realizing that all his attempts to free himself were futile. ‘We need to know what is going on. We were supposed to be in Mahabalipuram, near Chennai, right now, weren’t we? Shit happens when you miss a flight, shit happens when you don’t. I asked for tickets for an airplane, dude. Not for a freakin’ flying saucer!’ I vaguely remembered being floated into this room and placed upon an examination table and then tied down. I
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had some recollection of a blowjob machine and some weird medical procedures. Looking around the room, I realized that all four of us were returning to our senses. Katy Perry was playing in the background on the radio, some track called ‘Supernatural’. These fancy-dress freebooters seemed to love chick songs. I wondered what would come next. Were they going to play Justin Bieber? A shiver ran down my spine—the horror! I could hear the odd rhythmic sound of a moving motor that seemed like the whining of the outer casing of the flying saucer. It was making a terrible racket. These stupid aliens needed to send this dumb alien saucer for servicing. Or at least they ought to change the darn engine oil. b ‘Dude, I was in bed with this super awesome girl and was about to enter her and all of a sudden I see this blinding flash of light and here I am. Do these Scrotum Heads even realize how much effort it took me to convince her to let me into her pants?’ Derek asked, clearly distraught as he lamented his lost moments of ecstasy. Classic case of a slip between the cup and the lip. Derek was hopping mad. Goose spoke in a dry, raspy voice as he tried to come around. ‘I feel like I’ve been probed, poked, felt up and stretched. Dude! I feel violated. If they ever let me loose, I’ll take on these Scrotum Heads doggie-style, holes or no holes.’ I looked around and tried to recollect what they’d done to me, ‘I feel like someone used my stomach as a piano or a typewriter. Hell! How on Earth did they know that I was a writer? Last I remember was being at the airport…’
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Hound gasped like a rabid dog that had just been neutered. He had finally given up trying to break free from the leather straps that held him down. A section of the room opened up and a strange bluish light was visible. We saw four silhouttes float inside before the door slid shut behind them. The four aliens came and perched themselves on a surgical table kept in the middle of the dimly lit room. It was a table that was roughly rectangular, long enough to hold an adult-sized human. The lower third of the table opened into a ‘Y’ and slanted—so it was ‘ Y’ in italics, I suppose. The aliens looked like naked, deformed kids with heads shaped like inverted scrotums. Small—no more than three or four feet tall—and grey, these beings had disproportionately large heads, pretty much like Lady Gaga sans make-up. Their shrunken faces, large eyes without eyelids, two hands and two legs—no crotch—made them look funny. I was sure it wasn’t close to Halloween yet. There was a huge misshapen glass jar kept under the table that looked like a cross between a washing machine and a paper shredder attached to the table and—fuck!—it was full of sperm! My sperm! My unborn children! ‘Holy shit! We’ve been milked by these Scrotum Heads!’ I screamed, but nobody paid any attention. Just like always. Some things never changed, even in alien flying saucers. ‘Ouch! My head hurts!’ Goose moaned as he tried to lift his head. ‘It feels like someone drilled a hole in my head and inserted something inside me.’ ‘Shut up! You’ve always had a hole in your head. It’s where your brains fell out from when you were a kid. Any insertion would only do you good!’ quipped Hound as he tried to break the leather straps that held him down.
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‘Same here, Goose, I feel like some alien fuckball has inserted something into my nose and now it’s bleeding. I cannot smell a thing!’ Derek screamed in disgust as he tried to breathe in. ‘That’s cool. There is nothing to smell in here anyway. If you want a reference, it looks and smells worse than Goose’s bathroom,’ I said. ‘Even my ear is hurting, like someone fucked me in my ear.’ ‘My head feels like it’s been cut open or someone’s drilled a hole through my skull. I can smell this burnt smell inside my head. It’s like someone sucked out my brain with a straw, puked inside and sealed it.’ Derek groaned as he gave up on the strong straps that held him back. It was evident that we had all had something alien inserted into our bodies and it did not feel good. b Freakin’ Scrotum Heads! They all sat at the table, looking at us in a very strange manner, like trying to establish a Bluetooth connection with our pea-sized brains. They reminded me of my strange professors from college and some crafty colleagues in the corporate world today. All the creatures had the same rubbery skin, which was crying out loud for some moisturizer. Their leathery hands had three webbed fingers with absolutely no hair, musculature or skeletal structure. Also, they didn’t have any distinguishing marks on them like warts, pimples, nicks or cuts. Well, the moment I was let loose, I’d give them enough cuts and pores as distinguishing marks. After a round of mind-scan that drew some really blank stares from the Scrotum Heads, the nose-to-nose staring started. The mind-scan hurt, I’d felt a rainbow of emotions—
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from joy to fear, horniness, calm, dread and disgust. Dude, I thought ‘brain-fucking’ was the sole prerogative of my first girlfriend. I wondered what nefarious purpose these blasted Scrotum Heads had for putting all four of us together in one room. Nothing good…I was willing to bet.
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