Dexter’s Laboratory Porn Story: Dexter and Mandark Trip the Realm Chapter 7

And All that Jazz

Dexter opened his eyes, expecting to see himself lying, drenched, in a pool of his own blood. Instead he saw a white ceiling.

Did they take me to the nuthouse, Mandark? Dexter inquired.

No answer. Dexter turned his head to his right. There was a nightstand, with a clear vase stuffed with cheery yellow daffodils resting atop it. A half-open bureau revealed a number of suits on hangers, as well as some womens cocktail dresses. Dexter immediately turned his attention to the right, where a large glass window looked over a street teeming with Rolls-Royce limousines and glamorous blondes with pin-curls and luxurious fur coats. Dexter sat up.

Was this a new part of the slum? No, couldnt be. He remembered creating this world; hed had a lot of fun with it. It was the world of 20s nightclubs, where everyone was glamorous and the locales were smoke-filled dens of flirtatious desire.

Thank GOD you decided to get up, a cheerful voice called from a room directly adjacent to his bed. Dexter got up out of bed; he was wearing sweats and a wifebeater. So much for EVERYONE being glamorous.

Dee-Dee McPhearson poked her head out from the bathroom door, hair half-styled. Come on, Dexter, we both know that Mr. Astronominov is impatient!

Dexter raised an eyebrow as Dee-Dee disappeared back into the bathroom, still talking. And especially today of all the days to sleep in, Dexter! I moved in with you to make sure you didnt do anything stupid, like Mom asked me to, and the one day you act stupid is the one day we cant afford to do things like that! Dee-Dee, once again, poked her head out at the completely confused Dexter. You still have a hangover, dont you? Dee-Dee sighed. Of course you do. Remember? Tonight is when Mr. Mordecai comes to see my act. I mean, our act the girls and I. You do remember who the girls are, right?

Dexter nodded, having no idea what was going on. Act?

Get in the shower! Dee-Dee demanded, stepping out of the bathroom in her bra, a white slip, and tan nylons. Dexter bit his lip, holding back vomit his sister was half-naked

He jumped into the bathroom and took a shower, feeling that whatever Dee-Dee was gearing up for was important. But everything else didnt make any sense Dexter, hung over? Douglas Mordecai, addressed as Mister? Mr. Astronominov, Mandark, being punctual?

None of it made much sense, but Dexter decided to just throw himself into the moment and finish his shower as quickly as possible. He didnt want to ruin Dee-Dees big night, whatever it entailed.

Mandark found himself slicking his hair back with grease, unable to fathom why hed tacked an exact schedule on the wall adjacent to his bed. Itd proved very useful to getting him on task, but he couldnt find anyone in his apartment, or the hallway outside, to inform him what his varied scribblings meant. All he knew was that in ten minutes, he had to be at Apartment No. 400 on the eighth floor. He had no idea what floor he himself was on. Hopefully there was an elevator.

Mandark adjusted his crimson tie, recalling how random everything had seemed in those final moments in the slums. Hed stared down at Nora for a few seconds, wondering if hed ever get home in time to give Nora a call and tell her all the things she wanted to hear. And then the world swirled into nothing.

If that wasnt anticlimactic, Mandark didnt know what was. The last thing he remembered was seeing Debus right eye cloud with one single tear. It didnt make any sense. They escaped the Arabian world when Dexter crumpled on the ground, lifeless. But Dexter seemed dead in the slums, and escape came at a time so inconsequential that Mandark couldnt make ANY sense of it.

Either way, Mandarks main focus was going through this world relatively unharmed. He looked at himself in a cracked bathroom mirror, noting that his black pinstriped suit fit his thin frame perfectly. If he wasnt so modest, hed have realized that he was handsome, desirable, even. Mandark just nodded at his reflection, walked out of his cramped apartment, and realized, once again, he had no idea where he was going.

Mandark checked his watch. He had eight minutes to be on floor eight. Thankfully, an old woman with tight curls and a large housedress hobbled out into the narrow corridor just as Mandark turned. A strand of black hair fell into his pale face as he darted after her.

Maam! Maam? Mandark cried.

The woman turned before giving a generous smile. Why do you always call me that, Mr. Astronominov? Ive told you time and time again, call me Arabella.
Mandark blinked before nodding. Sorry Arabella. Old habits die hard, you know. Mandark swallowed his spit before launching into one of the most spectacular lies hed ever told. Well you see, I got drunk last night. I know, I know its terrible, but I really cant remember what floor Im on at the moment.

Arabella shrugged. You dont get drunk too often youre allowed your fun. After all, Miss Debussi seems ready to court you now. You must be delighted.

Mandark smiled lackadaisically. Yes, most most definitely.

Miss Debussi must be Nora! Mandark thought joyfully. Finally, a world where things were simple and clear!

Well, youre on floor 7, dear. Room number 327, in case you dont know that either, Arabella grinned. She shuffled past Mandark, her green slippers clashing magnificently with her blue dress and black overcoat. Mandark smiled at her back. Cute little old woman.

He then ran up a flight of stairs at the end of the hall, and was shocked to find that the first door he hit was room 400. Convenient. Mandark glanced at his watch yet again, noticing the gold plating. Four minutes. Shrugging it off, he knocked on the door.

A scream immediately erupted from within, followed by some frenzied male and female yelling. Mandarks eyes widened as the door slammed open, revealing what could only be described as a goddess.

Mandark shook the thought from his head immediately. It was Dee-Dee. Just Dee-Dee. Never mind the fact that her red satin gown was making the back of Mandarks neck sweat. She stared blankly at Mandark before sighing.

Youre early, Dee-Dee scowled. My stupid brothers still putting on his pants.

Something I dont want to see, Mandark admitted.

I heard that! a voice from within yelled. Definitely Dexter. Mandark sniggered before shrugging.

Im punctual.

Dee-Dee glared at him. Uh-huh. Sure. Im sure Nora loves that about you. She whipped her head around, blonde pigtails expertly curled and lying across her collarbone. Mandark gulped. Really bad time to be regaining feelings for her. So Mandark busied his mind with the dirtiest Nora-centric fantasy he could muster up while Dee-Dee wandered out of eyeshot.

Are you done?

Yes, why?

Mr. Astronominov is here.

Already?

Yep.

A small thud, and then two figures appeared in the door, apparently livid.

Is being early a bad thing? Mandark wondered.

Yes, both McPhearsons growled.

Oh. Ill show up five minutes late next time, Mandark grumbled.

Its amazing that Nora finds you attractive, Dee-Dee muttered before a bouncy smile replaced her twitching frown. Okay, lets go!

Dee-Dee led the way down the stairs, leaving Dexter and Mandark to reunite.

So where are we going? Mandark hissed.

The Common Room, Dexter responded in a low voice. Across the street. Its where Dee-Dee and the rest of her friends perform. Douglas Mordechai is a talent agent.

Mordechai? That idiot? Mandark blurted out.

Dee-Dee turned around quickly. No one likes him, I know, but hes powerful. He signed Miss Kelly and got her a recording contract he might do the same for us.

Mandark smirked, glad his faux pas was so easily glazed over. He tilted his head to Dexter, sure to keep his voice at a low whisper as he walked past the third floor. Who else is in Dee-Dees little group?

I dont know, Dexter replied.

How do you NOT know whos in these worlds?

I put the characters into the machine, Dexter quietly explained. The machine does the rest.

Mandark stared at Dexter in awe. He couldnt believe how advanced this machine was, in all honesty. No wonder Dexter acted just as shocked as Mandark every time.

Well, Noras obviously Dexter offered.

Well, yeah, Mandark nodded as he opened the apartment lobbys door. A blast of cool night air hit Mandark, blowing that strand of black hair across his forehead. Dexter adjusted his hat, and Dee-Dee grabbed at the edge of her dress, curls floating in the inky darkness.

So today will make or break us, Dee-Dee mused.

Yeah, Dexter nodded.

Break a leg, then, Mandark offered.

Dee-Dee smiled bitterly, looking at her manicured nails. Well that may be the only way to impress someone with a heart of stone.

A/N: I know I havent updated in a while. Reason number one was my psychotic fixation on writing Softly Into the Dark Night (SHAMELESS PLUG!), the There Will Be Blood fanfic I recently posted. Reason two, same as Camilia, was STAR testing. Sigh

Anyway, this chapter starts off my favorite arc in the story: the glamorous (or are they?) twenties. This is because theres a chapter that challenged me deeply when I wrote it, and I couldnt be prouder of it. Its not this chapter, by the way. I was inspired by F. Scott Fitzgeralds The Great Gatsby, so there you go.

DISCLAIMER: I dont own Dexters Lab, Nora is an OC, whatever.