The Rigby Narratives:
The Ultimate TG Experience
by
McKenzie Rigby  

as told to
Andy Hollis and Jaye Michael

 

Chapter Twenty-One -- Code Pink

Sirens wailed as the ambulance raced for the emergency room door. The two emergency medical technicians in the back of the vehicle kept a constant monitor on their patient's vital signs while the driver yelled into the radio.

"We'll need at least two people out on the deck-STAT. Maybe three. We've got a very large patient that needs to be moved.

On the stretcher, McKenzie Rigby groaned and opened his eyes. He groaned as the sights of the ambulance interior registered. "What?" he managed to croak out.

"Looks like you had a heart attack, Mr. Rigby," one of the medics said.

"Yeah, you panty-freak queen. You're going to find out what we do to sissy boys around here."

Hold it right there, McKenzie.

"Huh?" Mac looked up from the computer, scanning the room to find out who had talked. After all, it didn't sound like the cat and Igor never really did anything more than growl and groan.

You know people don't talk like that in real life. That person is a highly trained medical professional, and he wouldn't be jabbering at you like that.

"What's going on?" he asked twisting around in the chair as I kept trying to see whoever was speaking. "Who are you?"

I'm your internal editor, of course. You can call me, Carey.

"Carey? Wouldn't your name be McKenzie as well, since, as you say, you are my internal editor?"

You're not going to saddle me with some stupid name like McKenzie. Besides, how could we tell each other apart if I had the same name? Answer me that, Mister I'm-Going-to-be-Logical-About-This-Whole-

Disembodied-Voice-Thing?

"You don't speak very formally, I mean for an internal editor," Mac pointed out.

I don't care about your writing, you clod. I'm your internal editor. Have you noticed that pressure in your chest and the fact that you are having a hard time breathing?

"Now that you mention it, yes. But that happens all the time. Hey?! You mean I'm having a heart attack?"

On the nosey! It might be days before anyone finds you so why don't you call 911 now, while you still can? It's that or let your life flash before your eyes with me along to edit it.

Mac reached for the phone in spite of the ever increasing pain. He dialed out 9-1-1 as someone knocked on the door. "Help," Mac sputtered out. "Heart attack."

"An ambulance is on the way, sir. Just stay calm and keep breathing."

The knocking grew louder. Then a key turned in the lock and David pushed his way inside.

"Uncle Mac?" Dave screamed as he ran over to the computer table and shook the man. "Uncle Mac?" David screamed again as he shook the man's shoulder. A second later, he grabbed the phone out of

McKenzie's now limp hand and heard a voice.

"Hello?" he offered hesitatntly.

"This is the nine-one-one operator. Who are you?"

"Uh, David. Mac-Mr. Rigby is my uncle. He looks like he's dead."

"Just hang on, son. The medics are on the way."

"Okay, I'd better call Mom."

Before the emergency operator could stop him, David hung up and called home. Igor licked McKenzie's face, and David looked up in time to see the cat, Amencatep, bolt out the still open apartment door.

"Mom," he half shouted into the phone. "It's Uncle Mac. I think he's had a heart attack. He must have called 911 and there's an ambulance on the way here."

"Does he have a pulse?"

"Yeah," David answered as he felt Mac's neck. "It's, like, really fast."

"I'm on my way, sweetheart. You stay there until the ambulance comes. If it gets there before me, go with Uncle Mac to the hospital and I'll meet you there, instead."

"Sure, Mom. I will," David promised as he heard sirens outside. "I think the ambulance is here."

David stood outside watching the ambulance leave, with sirens blaring and lights flashing, with his uncle on board. They wouldn't let him go with Uncle Mac, something about being a minor. He frowned as he saw his mother's car turning onto the street right in the ambulance's path. She swerved out of the way just missing the ambulance. David started to wave to her in hopes of catching her attention before she followed the ambulance and left him here at Uncle Mac's apartment.

"Watch out!" David's wave turned to a horrified shout as he saw Amencatep dart across the road in front of his mother's car.

Janice swerved the car again, this time to avoid the cat, and stomped on the brakes. The result was a sideways skid, right into a large tree.

"Mom!" the boy screamed as he raced to the car. Yanking the door open, he stood and gaped at the sight of his mother, lying motionless in the car seat. "Mom?"

There was no response.

David knew better than try to help directly. He opened the back door, reached into his mother's purse and retrieved her cell phone. He dialed 911 again.

-=-=-=-=-

"Do not vorry about a zing, senor Rigby. Ich bin Antoinette, und I am your nurse for the evening, if youse please."

Mac heard the voice from a mile away. He heard the constant beep of his heart monitor overheard, and the usual sounds of a busy Emergency Room: kids crying, staff yelling, and nurses pushing equipment up and down the halls.

He licked his lips, and tried to focus on the tall, blonde woman standing over his gurney. "Don't I know you?"

"Wee wee, monsur Big Mac. Do not play ze cat und mouse wiz me, I beg you. You remembers your Antoinette."

"But I wrote you," Mac protested. "You're from the Cathouse. Dr. Morouser and Madam Gatochateu. You aren't real."

"Ah, but signore, there is real and there is real. Remember da cat. If eet is real, zen vhy cannot I be real aussi-how you say, also. Vas is happenink to you now is very real, wouldn't you agree?"

"I want a real nurse," Mac half shouted as he tried to sit up on the gurney. "I…" His words turned to an anguished scream as he felt his chest being crushed. Pain shot up into his jaw and down his left arm as part of his heart muscle died from the lack of oxygen.

"Code Blue," Antoinette shouted. "Code Blue in the ER!" She looked down at the patient lying unconscious on the bed struggling to breath. "Code Pink!" she added just above a whisper as she smiled knowingly.

The first doctor raced into the room and almost knocked the tall, blonde nurse to her knees in his rush. He positioned his arm for a pericardial thump, watched the monitor, and pounded Mac's chest with his closed fist. He tried again before shouting for the defibrillator.

"Clear!"

Twice the doctor jolted McKenzie's heart, and still the monitor showed no sign of improvement.

"Epinephrine in a cardiac syringe," he shouted, then took the syringe from Antoinette. After three doses injected straight into McKenzie's heart, the monitor showed the heart rate slowing down, back into normal sinus rhythm. "Get a line in with lidocaine and monitor…."

He glanced down at the syringe. Something was wrong. The pink stuff inside could not possibly be epinephrine. "What is this?" he asked, already fearing that he knew what it was.

"Oh, Herr Monsur Doctore, you asked for ze epinephrine."

"But this is estrogen, isn't it?"

"Si, si, yavohl. Estrogen, epinephrine, same zing. It vorks like charm on senorita Big Mac."

"Doctor?" Another nurse called out. "Look at the patient!"

"Holy Mother of God," the man said watching his patient visibly shrink on the gurney-and it kept on shrinking, as if it was folding back into itself. He turned back to Antoinette, but the girl was gone, as if by ancient magic.

On the litter, McKenzie's frame seethed and shifted as skin and muscles shrank against the bones. Years of culinary abuse melted away as the hormonal balance changed from male to female.

Five minutes later, a young woman, all fresh faced with unblemished skin lay on the bed in place of the man having the heart attack. The woman was less than a quarter the size of the man that had been there moments before. She was also beautiful, with long tawny blonde hair and a face to make a supermodel jealous.

"What do we do now?" the nurse asked the doctor, who could only shake his head. "I think he-she-whatever-might notice this."

"If she doesn't notice," the doctor commented staring at the girl's face. "I'm asking her out."

-=-=-=-=-

McKenzie woke with a flutter of eyelids. Gradually, she opened her eyes and glanced around the hospital room with a frown on her face. Something wasn't right, and she couldn't pinpoint the problem. But, she was alive, heart attack or no.

"Good morning, sweetheart," a voice said, from far away.

Focusing on the voice, McKenzie made out her mother's face. "Mom?" she choked out, then cleared her throat. Her voice sounded odd.

"It's okay, darling. Everything will be fine. You're alive, and in much better shape than you were when they brought you in here, but there was a slight problem?"

"Slight?" McKenzie asked. "Slight? I feel totally wrong. My voice sounds totally wrong. What happened? That nurse…."

"Yes, apparently that was the cause of this, Darling. She gave you the wrong medication while they were working on you."

McKenzie managed to hold up one arm. She stared at it for a moment, then studied the long, tapered fingers that adorned her hand. She choked back a scream. "This can't be for real. What did she give me?"

"Estrogen. Well, estrogen plus a bunch of other medications that the doctors here still haven't identified," Mrs. Rigby answered slowly, not sure if her new daughter would understand. "Instead of epinephrine, the nurse gave the doctor estrogen to inject into your heart. It caused some…changes."

"But changes like that aren't possible," McKenzie insisted. He studied his hands, with the long, slender fingers, tapered nails, and let his vision take in his slender, almost hairless arms. Slowly, he pulled the sheet up and looked down at the good-sized lumps underneath. "Okay, I never thought changes like that were possible."

Mrs. Rigby sighed, and pulled her chair closer to the bed. "There's something else."

"What? Now that I'm your daughter instead of your son you're going to kick me out of the family?"

"No, of course not. It's David. He needs you now, more than ever. I won't be able to take care of him for that much longer."

"What do you mean? Where's Janice?"

"They didn't tell you?" Mrs. Rigby asked, suddenly quiet. The elderly woman took a deep breath and squared her shoulders, yet at the same time seemed to shrink into herself. Mac was getting really worried now.

"I guess there's no easy way to say it. Are you sure you're ready for this my dear? I don't want to hurt you. I can wait until you've had a bit more time to recover…"

"I may have changed," Mac laughed. "But you certainly haven't. How about coming to the point, just once, Mom?"

"Janice died in a car accident shortly after the ambulance brought you here. She was on her way to your apartment after David called her and told her you'd collapsed. She ran into a tree. She died instantly.

Even worse, David is missing. He wasn't at your apartment and he wasn't back at Janice's house. Social services is trying to find him and they may involve the police very soon."

McKenzie shuddered for a moment before she broke down crying.

-=-=-=-=-

 

Interlude Twenty-One

 

It was an oversized casket, vaguely reminiscent of a piano crate, but with a smooth mahogany finish. Of course, that wasn't very surprising considering McKenzie's girth. It wasn't even surprising that it was a closed casket. That was a request direct from McKenzie's will. What was surprising was how many mourners there were considering how few people were still alive in the Rigby family, and even to David's young eye, some of them appeared to be a bit…odd, as it were.

The gravesite was surrounded with flower arrangements, more than David had ever seen. Apparently, most of them were from a Ms. Everes of Carlico Industries. The notes apologized for not being able to be at the funeral due to a previous business engagement and offered sympathies.

Of course Grandma was there, standing to David's left as they stood before the gravesite. She had done an amazing job of keeping David's spirits up while organizing two funerals and an adoption.

Then, there was Caroline, the social worker who had overseen David's adoption by Grandma Rigby. She stood to David's right, her blonde hair blowing in the gentle breeze. Behind her were several friends of hers that came to offer David and Grandma moral support in this difficult time. Cindy and Maggie were redheads, while the second blonde, Jacki, had absolutely luxuriant, long flowing hair, but wore a rather austere, male-cut business suit. Jacki stood a head taller than any of the other women. She seemed to be Caroline's closest friend, always standing nearest to the social worker, always with a protective hand at Caroline's back. Maybe they were sisters. From their conversation, carefully designed to avoid painful topics like death, it seemed that Jacki was an account executive for an ad agency as well as a model for some hair care products with a successful series of television commercials, which was probably why she seemed vaguely familiar to David.

Actually, there were several rather famous people at the funeral, made even more surprising when one considered that McKenzie Rigby had worked as a night security guard. David wondered when his uncle had had the opportunity to meet some of them. Most notable was Michal Rossetti Salieri, the internationally renowned star of stage and screen.

Another actress was at the funeral too. David had never heard of her, unlike Ms. Salieri, but Victoria Lane had been introduced as one by Freddy, the man who had accompanied her. Freddy was one of the stranger people at the funeral with his bright blue leisure suit and his constantly moving hands, but he was more surprising for the fact that he was one of the few males there.

There was even royalty at the funeral. David really had no idea why they were there, but considering the rather large and evil looking guards hovering near them, he decided that cowardice would actually be the better part of valor and had no intention of approaching Princess Maryanna Magdelaine Eustacia Tatiana von Korngold of Slovavia to ask. Similarly, the rather sharp knives being displayed by the swarthy guards surrounding Princess Amechdela and her consort were daunting, but at least she was his age. David decided that, if he got the opportunity, he would at least try to talk to her to see how she had met uncle Mac.

Uncle Mac's ex-girlfriend was at the funeral too, although she seemed to be hanging in the background. David guessed that she was there because she still cared for Uncle Mac, but didn't want to talk to

Grandma or him after the break up. Some of the people David saw her talking too were a bit weird though.

One was a lady with skin that was so smooth that she reminded David of a mannequin. Another was a really ugly looking fat man with skin so flabby he looked more like a blob than a person. He had introduced himself as coming from somewhere called Gygaxion or Gigantion, or something and talked funny. There was a really pretty teenaged girl with a Russian accent and wearing some of the highest heels David had ever seen. He wouldn't have noticed if Caroline had not commented on them to Jacki. The Russian girl was talking to two other girls who also had strange accents. One was wearing a full-length black dress and a huge hat with a veil so thick that you couldn't see her face. She kept standing under a large Elm tree, seeming afraid to step outside the circle of shade that it provided.

Then there was the group that looked like they were escapees from a circus. There was one guy with a leisure suit as bright as the one that Freddy guy was wearing. He kept asking people if they wanted to buy stuff. There were these two little guys with him, not much taller than David himself, that kept roaring at people and telling everyone that they were giants and that people needed to do whatever they said or else.

No one from David's school had shown up, but there were a couple of kids about David's age at the funeral. Unfortunately, both sets seemed to have paired off. The two girls kept giggling and whispering to each other as they pointed smiled and waved at David. They were pretty, but David wasn't ready for girlfriends yet. The other two, a boy and a girl, were holding hands. David wasn't certain, but about half way through the service, he thought he saw the girl fly off carrying the guy.

The only problem had been when the casket broke the straps holding it up and it went crashing down into the grave. Somehow it dropped smoothly into the pit without popping open or anything gross like that, so everyone tried ignore it. The minister intoned the words "ashes to ashes, dust to dust," threw a handful of dirt on the casket and everyone but the lady with the veil standing under the tree began to file by to do the same.

After the last few stragglers filed past the grave to drop in a flower or some dirt, the group milled around, apparently waiting for something rather than moving off to their cars. The last mourner was a tall, rotund man sporting a full head of gray hair with black stripe down the center. He carried a rather large cat that looked a lot like the one that Uncle Mac had had. He was also surrounded by a gaggle of women who were so voluptuous as to be caricatures of women, if the snide comments of some of the other attendees were any indication.

One of the women whispered to the man, who had previously been introduced to us as a Dr. Morouser. He shook his head, but the woman whispered back and gave a look that could only be described as pleading and he relented. Smiling brightly, the woman, a blonde, approached Grandma and offered her condolences, although she seemed to be smiling as if she had some special secret rather than looking somber.

"Mademoiselle Rigby, on behalf of Mein Herr Doktor, I'd like to offer yahs our sympathy und ask about vouz daughter. Ve doesn't see her here."

Grandma looked the woman up and down distastefully before answering. "Thank you for your concern. McKenzie is obviously in a better place, as is Janice."

"Oh nein, no, nada. I meant vouz other daughter, Jenna."

"You know Jenna?" Grandma was surprised.

"That's enough Antoinette." The man with the distinguished looking hair interrupted the woman. She immediately bowed her head and respectfully stepped aside, allowing the man to step forward as she stepped back to join the other three.

"Allow me to introduce myself. I am Dr. Morouser and I am a genius. I represent most of the other mourners when I say that we are more concerned about your new daughter's life than your son's death."

Grandma was flabbergasted.

"Grandma, what's going on?" David asked, tugging gently on the older woman's sleeve when she didn't respond.

"I don't know, David," she finally answered and turned back the doctor to see that the rest of the mourners had gathered around them. It might have been scary except for the fact that they all looked so friendly and concerned.

"David's question is an excellent one, Mrs. Rigby. Would you like me to explain?"

"Yes, please."

"Why don't we move over to that bench? This might take a few moments to explain." When Grandma made no objection, Dr. Morouser gently too her hand and escorted her over to a horseshoe shaped bench under the shade tree where the woman with the veiled hat stood. The other mourners separated to allow them to reach it, but then reformed around them, even closer than before.

Grandma chose a seat to one side of the bench with David beside her, being hugged tightly while the doctor gracefully seated himself on the other side of the "U," facing them.

"I think you were going to explain something?" Grandma prompted once he was seated.

"Like I said, this will take a bit of explaining," Dr. Morouser sighed. I need to start by making several statements of fact. While several may be a bit hard to accept, please believe me when I say that they are completely true.

"First, there are other dimensions."

Grandma snorted and began to get up.

"Please, wait. I warned you this would be difficult. Besides, I'm guessing that McKenzie Rigby developed his love of storytelling from you. Do you really have somewhere to go that is so important you would miss the chance to hear a tall tale, not that that's what I'm going to tell you, but still…"

Grandma sat back down and waved the doctor on.

"Like I said, 'First there are other dimensions.' I don't mean the eight, twelve, twenty or however many the string theorists claim describe the universe; I mean the kind of dimensions where other people live.

"Second, except for a very few of us, we are all from different dimensions.

Grandma rolled her eyes, but remained seated.

"Third, all of us owe our very lives to McKenzie Rigby."

"Excuse me," Grandma interrupted. "I loved my son very much and thought he had the potential to do great things, but even a mother has to recognize some truths and McKenzie was no hero."

"You misunderstand, Madam. McKenzie did not save our lives. We owe our lives, our very existences, to him.

"Huh?" David looked around, wondering who said that, until he realized that he had and scrunched down closer to his grandmother.

"Mr. Rigby authored a variety of stories and published them on the Internet. We are the characters from those stories. Had your son not written those stories, we would not be. I guess, in some way, we are all your grandchildren."

He stopped to let Grandma stop choking. David started to pat her on the back only to find that it was already being done. Jenna had returned.

"I'm sorry I was late folks. Car trouble. Almost missed my own funeral."

"Hello, Jenna," Dr. Morouser greeted the newcomer with his usual leer. "I see you're looking well."

"Yes, thank you, Doctor. I heard you explaining what happened to my mother, please don't let me interrupt." With that she took a seat on the other side of Mrs. Rigby from David and placed a hand around her mother, briefly reaching beyond to lovingly ruffle David's hair.

"Ah-hum. Yes, of course," Dr. Morouser cleared his voice before continuing.

"Where was I?"

"Vous is ze characters," Tiffany, Brigette, Simone and Antoinette, his "wards" shouted out in unison before giggling, also in unison.

"Hush! That was a rhetorical question," the doctor grumbled, but then continued.

-=-=-=-=-

 

Togetherness

 

On top of Olesmuki Mountain in the southern continent of Gygaxion there was a brown lump. It was staring up into space and thinking when it saw what looked like a shooting star. As a scientist, it was fascinated by all things not of Gygaxion. It had even had the opportunity to take a sample from another world once.

Seeking to better examine the phenomenon, it modified its shape to create a parabolic receiver and sensors in the electromagnetic range. It took a moment to focus on the object, but then it rippled with shock. It was a red and blue flying creature of a shape very much like the human it had examined. Even more amazing, the human creature was flying toward it.

"Greetings," the caped human said as it gently landed beside it. "Is this Gygaxion and are you the blob that studied a human specimen named McKenzie Rigby on your spaceship?"

"Yes. May I help you, uh …."

"They call me Superkid, and yes you can. I'm looking for a, I believe the politically correct term is, polymorphic intelligence who recently studied a human male of outstanding wisdom called McKenzie Rigby?"

"Why yes. What can I do for you?"

"You can come with me to meet several other people whose lives have been touched by him."

"You mean I might be able to speak to the one and only McKenzie Rigby once again? I am overwhelmed by the honor. Take me anywhere you wish."

The blob rolled itself into a small, hard ball and bounced into Superkid's arms. Faster than a speeding tall building, they were off.

-=-=-=-=-

"I am NOT the creation of some human's imagination." When the conversation had started, a remarkably nondescript man of average size had been speaking, but as his anger grew so did his size. He was now at least ten feet tall and his skin had changed from the unhealthy pallor of one who spends too much time indoors to a ruddy red similar to that of a smoldering ember and he barely fit inside the circle drawn on the floor that he made every not to cross.

"Are you not known by the name Puppick?" Michal Rossetti Salieri, internationally known actress and physicist calmly asked, yet again as she stared upward at the demon looming menacingly over her.

"Arch Demon Sloth Puppick is the name you puny humans know me by, yes."

"And do you remember how you escaped from Castle Dracul?" Michal double-checked some papers on the clipboard in her hand. "Excuse me Castle Fodor."

"Of course. I remember all my victims. The Whiting brothers were especially tasty…"

"Don't attempt to play games with me. I meant Melvin Dodson."

"Have you met the lovely Melvin?" the demon sneered disdainfully down at the woman questioning him.

"Actually, yes. Several times now," Michal responded solemnly.

"Is she the reason why I am held in this boring dimension against my will?"

"Well, Melvin helped us find…"

"Us, there are more of you pathetic humans about? There goes the neighborhood."

"As I was saying," Michal tried again, "Melvin helped us find you, but you are here because of McKenzie Rigby; not because of any desire to see you again on Melvin's part."

"My little succubus would not wish a repeat of the best sex she will ever have? I'm shocked," the demon growled, yet still managed to sound insincere. Then, he examined Michal appraisingly and added, "Of course, you will do quite nicely as a replacement. Release the ward and you shall receive pleasure beyond your wildest imaginings-before I destroy you."

"There are no wards," Michal calmly replied. "But I should warn…"

"Warn me later-if you survive. First you shall pleasure me." With that the demon growled and grabbed at the woman's blouse. It's intent was to rip it from her body. The result was that it's clawed hand stopped less than an inch from her body.

"What trickery is this?" it asked as the creature's formidable muscles contracted and flexed as it struggled to grab Michal. "The ward is on, you liar."

"No, I did not lie. There is no ward. On this world, in this dimension, violence, such as the rape you attempted, is not permitted."

"Impossible!" The demon spit the words out, still struggling to reach Michal, whose response was the light tinkle of laughter.

"A demon, a being of magic, alleges impossibility? Now I've heard everything."

The Arch Demon Sloth Puppick growled and continued to struggle. It swore to itself that it would not be denied this taste mortal, but as the seconds turned into minutes, if finally gave up.

Michal sighed. She knew that the creatures of this dimension could not be injured by violence, but she had not been certain that it would apply to a creature of magic like the demon.

"Walk with me Sloth. I have a story to tell you."

-=-=-=-=-

"So we all got together," Michal stopped to brush several strands of hair from her face. There was a breeze picking up and David shivered and huddled closet to Grandma. "It took a while, and the debates were fascinating, albeit occasionally bitter, but we finally agreed that your son McKenzie was our creator and that he was in trouble. We did what any self-respecting honorable group of characters would do. We saved him and made him one of us."

 

David's Tale

 

David stopped typing and wondered if that would be enough. It had taken quite a while, but Grandma finally believed and then she and Jenna had explained it to David. Uncle Mac had almost died from a heart attack. Instead, he had been saved by being turned into a young woman named Jenna. There was a lot of discussion back and forth between Grandma and Jenna. Mostly it was Grandma asking Jenna if she had been writing all those stories because she wanted to be a woman and Jenna insisting that they were just something to write about.

The boy didn't care about those stories. There was only one fact that was important, he thought. Uncle Mac had written stuff and it had come true. The first chance he got, David snuck into Jenna's room and turned on her computer. Starting the word processing program, David began to type.

Mom was alive and well. It had been someone else in the car.

-=-=-=-=-

THE END