(Inspired by the Stephen King novel "Thinner")
(ticklish celebrity fiction)
Demi Moore, the strikingly beautiful star of Ghost and A Few Good Men was driving on Mulholland Drive in the Hollywood hills one morning talking to her agent on her cellular phone. It had been a few years since the tall, raspy-voiced movie star had a big hit, and she was really putting pressure on her representative.
"Come on, Richard, I really need a big summer hit this time. Not another one of those low budget heavy themed films that the Academy likes. I need something that'll make a killing at the box office," she pleaded. "What? A remake of King Kong?...But that was already done twenty-five years ago with Jessica Lange...What?...the latest in special effects?... Okay I'll do it."
Two months later...
The blue-eyed darling had traveled all the way to the jungles of Zaire with the cast and crew of her latest (and hopefully most promising) project King Kong 2001. It was a very trying six weeks on the set: The weather in Zaire was so humid Demi felt like she was in the world's largest sauna, the director that the studio hired was incredibly difficult to work with (especially during those scenes where several of the locals were used as extras), and three weeks into the shoot Demi came down with dysentery.
One day on the set, Demi Moore was so frustrated with the whole thing she wondered if all this was really worth it. She had the runs really bad and had requested something for her upset stomach. Johnny Mu, an assistant on the set as well as native of the African republic, returned with an unusual, homemade brew that he said was a remedy handed down for many generations. He handed the steaming cup to Demi Moore with a great big smile.
The unwell actress took one sip of the medicine and immediately did a Danny Thomas spit take and went into a coughing fit; it was the nastiest thing she had ever put in her mouth.
"What the hell are trying to do, kill me? Oh my god! Get this crap away from me!" The actress rebuked.
Johnny was deeply hurt by Demi's rejection of his tonic. The local man was immediately fired and one of the star's personal assistants approached Demi Moore and said, "Don't worry, he won't be coming back."
Three weeks later, the final day of shooting completed and the director called it a wrap. Everyone was so happy it was over, especially the worn out, but still very attractive, Demi Moore. As the actress headed back to her trailer, she could've sworn she heard footsteps behind her. When she got to the staircase in front of the trailer door, Demi suddenly turned around to see if she was being stalked or something.
The beautiful blue-eyed woman was shocked to see a strange man standing behind her. He was a black man whose face was painted; he held a peculiar object in his hand that looked to be a miniature totem pole. Before Demi could react the man shook the little idol in her face, chanting something in his native tongue. He then reached out a lone finger and stroked the stunned woman's cheek, whispering a single word, "TICKLISH!"
Quickly, the eccentric subject ran away and left poor Demi Moore bewildered. She eventually snapped out of it and laughed to herself, dismissing the whole thing as some harmless folly. If I didn't know any better, I would have worn that was Johnny Mu, Demi thought.
A week later, Demi Moore visited her physician, Dr. Judith Green. Judith Green was an attractive, forty-something redhead with brown eyes. Demi had an appointment to have an abdominal exam:
"Go ahead and get up on the exam table and lay down on your back, then we'll begin," Dr. Green instructed.
The cute actress did as asked, but for some strange reason she felt reluctant to do so, as if she was going to be unusually ticklish or something.
"Now does it hurt when I do this?" Dr. Green asked as she lightly tapped her two fore-fingers on Demi's tummy, just above her bellybutton.
A stubborn grin overtook the dark-haired beauty's face that she tried to pass off as a pained expression.
"No." Demi answered, unable to relax.
"How ‘bout here?" The doctor continued, thumping below Demi's bellybutton this time, an even more sensitive spot.
"Grrrrrr," Demi grunted, squirming a little more. "It's sensitive."
"Sorry. How about here?" Dr. Green asked, and felt around the sides of the actress' belly.
"Eeeeeeek! That tickles, Judith! I don't know why I'm so ticklish today! That's so strange."
Later, when Demi left Dr. Green's office, she pondered about what had happened during her exam. Gee, I've never been ticklish before. I don't know what came over me, she thought. Then she remembered that incident in Africa when that weird man came up to her and touched her face, whispering the word "TICKLISH". Demi scoffed at the notion and told herself that she was being silly.
The next week, Demi Moore visited her masseuse to get a long, soothing deep tissue rubdown. Ever since she left Dr. Green's office, the soft-spoken actress felt more hyper as each day passed. She was restless¾irritable¾and thought a nice massage was just the thing she needed.
The sexy movie star lay nude on her stomach on top of the massage table waiting for Helga, the stout German woman who Demi trusted the most with her body. Helga then entered the room and Demi Moore was quick to inform her, "Helga, darling, you'll have to be careful with me today. I'm very sensitive, right now."
The plump, unsightly European woman acknowledged the actress' request and began the massage. From the first touch Demi was fidgeting uncontrollably. IT TICKLED LIKE CRAZY!
"Relax, Demi," Helga directed.
"I'm trying, Helga, but it seems like I've just been so extremely ticklish, lately," Demi explained.
Helga started to knead the super sensitive areas along Demi Moore's neck, shoulders, and back. She used her fingers to dance along the back and spine of the ticklish celebrity.
Demi immediately tensed up and giggled and squealed in ticklish delight.
"That tickles so much!"
"Calm down. Take a deep breath."
Then Helga moved down to the end of the table where Demi Moore's pretty pedicured bare feet lay. The actress became even more nervous, and without warning Helga touched the incredibly ticklish soles of the movie star's soft feet.
Demi Moore went berserk!
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!" The woman screamed and jumped off the table, wrapping her towel around her. "I'm sorry. I'm just too ticklish for a massage right now. Goodbye." then the dark-haired, lovely actress stormed out the room.
During the next month, Demi Moore was burdened with ceaseless worrying about her ever-growing ticklishness. It even started affecting her sex life. Everytime she was intimate with a man, Demi Moore got so incredibly ticklish she couldn't continue and had to ask them to leave. Her boyfriends didn't understand and were insulted by Demi's behavior; it made her feel awful.
Again, the image of that face-painted man approaching her in Africa troubled Demi's psyche. She was starting to take it very seriously and it really disturbed her. Oh come on, there's no such thing as a curse. I don't believe in that kind of stuff, she thought. But the more she pondered the idea, the more it solidified in her soul.
The plagued actress was compelled to leave home and get on the next plane to Zaire. She arrived in that same small village where her King Kong movie was filmed. It was night-time and rainy. All she could see was a dirt road lit by tiki torches in front of two rows of straw huts. The confused actress was desperate but hadn't a clue what to do now that she was here, alone, thousands of miles away from Hollywood.
That was when the popular actress felt a persuasive urge from deep within her being that directed her to a particular hut at the end of one row. When she got there, she freely opened the door and walked in. Demi Moore was absolutely shocked to see Johnny Mu standing before her.
"I knew you'd come," Johnny said.
"You! It was you who followed me to my trailer. It was you who p-p-put a hex on me. Why Johnny? W-w-why have you done this to me?"
"You insulted my people. That tonic was a part of my culture for many generations."
"I'M SORRY, JOHNNY! I MEANT NO HARM! PLEASE TAKE OFF THIS CURSE. I CAN'T EVEN HAVE A LIFE I'M SO TICKLISH ! PLEASE, JOHNNY!" Demi Moore said with pleading eyes.
"Very well, but only on one condition."
"OH YES, ANYTHING! ANYTHING, JOHNNY, JUST PLEASE MAKE ME NOT SO TICKLISH ANYMORE. IT'S RUINING MY LIFE."
"First you must remove those wet clothes. You are going to catch your death of cold."
Without hesitation the surprisingly uninhibited actress removed her clothing, revealing her slender, curvaceous body. Johnny was very fond of her milky-white flesh; he knew he was quite fortunate to have this white beauty totally at his mercy.
Johnny then gestured behind him to a table. It was covered in what looked like leopard fur and there was a candelabra with a diorama of several carved mahogany masks forming a crescent around the table.
"Get on the this table and lay on your back," the witch doctor commanded.
Demi Moore was terrified and breathed heavily, but did what he asked. Johnny wasted no time and grabbed four long pieces of Zebra hide. He then tied down Demi's wrists and ankles to the legs of the table, putting her in a spread-eagle position. The ex-Brat Packer's heart was pumping like crazy. She was shaking uncontrollably, anticipating the worst.
"Before I can remove the curse, you must be tickle tortured one last time," the African medicine man warned.
Demi panicked. Her eyes bugged out, her mouth dropped open, and her long, pretty toes curled locked in the cutest little way.
"W-W-WHAT? I-I-I CAN'T BELIEVE WHAT I'M HEARING! I SAID I WAS SORRY, JOHNNY! PLEASE, DON'T TICKLE ME! NOT WHILE I'M TIED DOWN LIKE THIS, NOOOO!" The actress screamed.
Demi Moore's please for mercy fell on deaf ears as Johnny launched an all out tickle assault on the extremely ticklish movie star. Demi exploded with a symphony of those famous raspy-voiced giggles. She screamed and roared with hard belly laughs as Johnny Mu scratched and stroked his fingernails all over Demi Moore's horribly ticklish feet, pay-ing close attention to her especially sensitive spots.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! HEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEE! OH! OH! OH!"
Demi more bucked up and down on the fur-lined table, jerking and screaming at the top of her lungs as Johnny mapped out a ticklish exploration of her beautiful body with his cruel fingers; legs, belly, sides, and ribs were all attacked.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! HAHAHAHAHA! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! STOP! STOP! YOU'RE KILLING ME! I CAN'T TAKE IT! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! AAAAAAGH! OOOOHOOHOOHOOHOOHOOHOOHOOHOO! AAAAAAAAAAAAGH! THAT TICKLES SO MUCH! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! JOHNNY, PLEEEEEHEEHEE HEEHEEHEEHEEHEEEEEEEEASE STAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAP!"
Finally, Johnny Mu did the unthinkable when he nestled his fingers in the ultra-ticklish hollows of Demi Moore's smooth, hairless armpits.
Demi went wild!
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! OH! OH! NOT THERE, JOHNNY! NOT THERE! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! OH! OH! NO! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! PLEEEEEEEEEEEEASE! STAAAAAAAAAAAAAHP! NOT THERE! NOT THERE! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! HAVE MERCY! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! NO MORE! NO MORE! AAAAAAAAGH!"
After what seemed like an eternity of non-stop tickle torture, Demi Moore mercifully passed out. When the lovely actress awoke, she was shocked to realize she was laying on her own bed in her own house. She was dazed and confused, but not so much as to not notice that her skin wasn't as sensitive as before. The curse is gone, she thought. And the attractive, blue-eyed star of St. Elmo's Fire went on with her day, refreshed, relaxed, and with a whole new look on life. She learned a valuable lesson; disrespecting someone's culture may get you into a ticklish situation.