In the mid 1960's, publisher Harvey Kurtzman regularly put out a magazine called "Help!" It was unrelated to the Beatles, but instead featured a photocomic story in each issue. In May of 1965, John Cleese, later to rise to fame with "Monty Python's Flying Circus" and "Fawlty Towers" was the featured character in one of these, written by Dave Crossley. The Photo Supervisor for this session was Terry Gilliam, who would remain friends with Cleese and eventually join him in England to work on the Python show. I credit these men entirely with the ideas and concepts for this bit, and have merely adapted it for our fandom.


Jake's Punctured Romance

Adapted by Milderbeast from an original story by Dave Crossley


Oh you beautiful doll
 You great big beautiful doll
Let me put my arms around you
 I could never live without you

"Oh You Beautiful Doll" by A. Seymour Brown & Nat D. Ayer



Jake Morgendorffer pulled into the driveway of his Highland, Texas home and shut off his car's engine. Another stupid, lousy day in that stupid, lousy office with his stupid, lousy boss. Was this what life was supposed to be all about? The same crap every day, come home to more crap every night, weird kids doing weird things he couldn't understand. It was frustrating; but worse, it was downright boring. This sure wasn't the life he had expected or hoped for.

Jake sighed as he exited the car and strode up to his doorstep. What would he find tonight when he opened up the door? Helen, home from her own job, hastily throwing together some form of dinner, his kids occupied with whatever was capturing their interest at the moment, conversation at dinner he couldn't quite follow or participate in. How long had it been like this? He couldn't really remember.

He turned the knob on the door and entered the house. He could hear Helen in the kitchen just as he had predicted. Exactly like a thousand other nights, he called out "Helen! I'm home!", filling his voice with as much cheerful inflection as he could. That had become a regular habit of his.

"Hello dear!" Helen called. "Dinner's almost ready. Give me another 10 minutes or so. Busy day at the firm, just got in myself. That Fletcher case is driving me insane!"

Jake ambled aimlessly to the wet bar and made himself a martini. That, too, was becoming a regular habit of his. Screw it, I'll have orange juice tomorrow he thought as he poured the drink. He looked around for his evening paper and his eyes fell upon a small doll standing on the coffee table in front of a brightly colored box.

"What's this?" he asked Helen.

"What dear?" she replied.

"What's this doll stuff in here?" he said.

"Oh, that's Quinn's Barbee doll. I bought it for her yesterday," Helen said.

"Barbee doll, eh?" Jake said. He walked over to the couch and saw his paper sitting underneath the box that Barbee must have come in. He reached out to lift it up, and it opened in his hand. It looked like a small clothes closet inside, and was jammed full of Barbee's attire.

"My God! Look at all the clothes!" Jake marvelled. Indeed, Barbee seemed to have outfits for every occaision in her wardrobe. Jake picked up the doll and looked closely at it. Of course, his own father wouldn't allow such things near his son, no sir. Jake had never seen one before. He noticed the absurdly large chest the doll had.

"Hey! She's even got boobs! Helen, did you know this doll had boobs?" Jake's voice rose up a bit.

"Jakey, all Quinn's little friends have got them," Helen said, not liking the tone of Jake's voice.

"Got what? Boobs?" Jake was almost yelling now. Helen sighed and went to her husband. His extreme reactions were becoming a regular habit. She knew she had to calm him down.

"No, honey, they all have Barbee dolls," Helen said as she entered the room. Jake was staring at the doll with a glassy look in his eyes.

"Is this a good idea? She's only seven, for God's sake! She should have a frilly little baby doll instead of a...a...sexpot!" Jake was getting wound up, all right.

"Sweetie, it's just a toy. Come on in to the kitchen and help me finish dinner. Then we can watch some television and go to bed," Helen said, with as much sweetness as she could muster. She knew by now that a little involvement and affection could calm him down...a bit.

Jake put the doll down, and turned to his wife. Helen smiled at him, and he relaxed somewhat.

"All right, that sounds good." He slipped an arm around her waist and the two strode towards the kitchen. Jake glanced back at the doll sitting on the table. "Hmph," he said under his breath, "Boobs."



In the deep dark of night, Jake was awakened by his stomach rumbling. He opened his eyes and sat up in the bed he shared with Helen. That damned microwave stuff never fills me up he thought to himself. He swung his legs out of bed and fumbled for his slippers. Finding them, he crept into the kitchen to fix himself something to eat. He rummaged in the refrigerator and came out with a massive pile of meats and cheeses, along with several jars of condiments. Setting them on the table, he grabbed the bread and proceeded to make a monstrous sandwich for himself. When he was finished with the preperations, he wrapped his creation in a few paper towels and headed for the living room and his forgotten newspaper.

Jake turned on a small table lamp and sat on the couch, unwrapping his sandwich as he did so. He lifted it to his mouth, and was just about to take a taste when he noticed the Barbee doll was still on the coffee table. Jake grinned slightly as he lowered the sandwich.

"'Well, well, what's a girl like you doing up so late on a night like this, eh? Care for a bite?" He held the sandwich out to the doll. "No? Well, don't mind me, then..." Jake stuffed the sandwich into his mouth and took a bite. He gazed at Barbee as he chewed. Her figure really was quite sensual.

"You live around here, foxy mama?" Jake purred at her. He set his sandwich down and propped his head up on one elbow. "Quiet type, eh?" he said with a grin. His gaze wandered to the still-open box full of clothes. Quinn had appearantly not been playing with her doll tonight, off on some other activity. Jake sat upright and ruffled curiously through the clothes. "Jeez, look at all this stuff! There's a fur coat, a ball gown, a cocktail dress, and..." Jake held up a small, lace teddy. "Woo, look at that! Naughty, naughty!" He continued rummaging through the box, stopping suddenly when his fingers pulled out a miniature brassiere. "Hey, a bra! A little bra! Geez, it's not even padded! Not that you'd need it, of course." Jake grinned at Barbee. A thought popped into his head, he glanced around to make certain no one was watching, and he picked the doll up.

Slowly, Jake brought his slightly trembling hand up to the bottom of Barbee's pink taffeta gown. His breathing began to increase slightly as he inched the fabric up her smooth, plastic thighs. Higher and higher it went, until a small portion of silky, black lace underwear became visible. Jakes eyes grew wide, and a small "Mmm..." escaped his lips as he turned the doll around and unsnapped the small buttons on the back of her gown. He licked his lips as his fingers began to gradually free the doll's shoulders from the constraints of the miniature garments. He pulled the gown carefully off the doll's body, leaving her clad only in her black lace panties and matching bra. Beads of sweat formed on his brow as he turned her around to face him once more, his breath coming in deep, deliberate draws. With his thumb and forefinger, Jake grasped the strap on one shoulder and pulled it downward until it lay across Barbee's upper arm. He shifted his attention to the other strap, gently nudging it into a position equal to the other one. He licked his lips as a bead of perspiration dripped down his face.

What the hell am I doing? Jake asked himself. It's a DOLL for God's sake. What if Helen saw me right now? Jake struggled with his conscience for a moment. But a glance downward at the sultry, thin-waisted, and over-endowed maiden he held in his hand, her pert, plastic breasts partially exposed and urging him on, decided the issue for him. The hell with Helen, he thought.

Barbee's black panties sailed through air as the light went out, plunging the room into a merciful darkness.



The alarm clock on Helen Morgendorffer's side of the bed buzzed into her sleeping head, the sound cutting through the fog of dreams and insisting that it be silenced. She groped for the off switch, clumsily finding it and halting the invasive sound. She rubbed the sleep out of her eyes as she tried to rouse her husband. "Jake," she said, sleepily, "It's time to get up."

Jake was sitting upright in the bed, unseen by his wife. "Yeah...I was just...uh...I was awake already.." he said.

"That's nice, dear," Helen said absently, as she made her way into the master bathroom. "Would you start breakfast for the girls? I'll be down in a minute....Jake...did you hear me?"

"I'm awake," Jake repeated, staring into space. "Boy, am I awake...breakfast...for the girls...right..."

Jake put on his bathrobe and headed to the kitchen. A few minutes later, he started the coffeemaker, pulled out a cup for himself and one for Helen, got out two cereal bowls and spoons for the girls, and sat in silence until his wife emerged from the bedroom.

"What would you like this morning, honey? Instant Grits, instant oatmeal, or microwave breakfast burritos?" Helen asked upon her arrival.

"Hmm? Oh, just a nice cup of coffee, thanks dear. And maybe some toast," Jake replied, his eyes far, far away.

Helen noticed his demeanor as she placed two slices of bread in the toaster. She poured him a cup of the now-finished coffee, and as she placed it before him she asked, "What's the matter, Jakey, didn't you sleep well?"

Jake could hear the unmistakable sounds of one of his girls in the children's bathroom. "I...I think...think I had a dream..." was all he could manage as he raised the cup to his lips.

"Hey!" cried Quinn from the living room, "Daria's been playing with my Barbee doll! Her hair's all messed up! And her clothes are everywhere! Mo-o-o-m!"

"I wouldn't touch your stupid doll if you paid me to!" yelled Daria from the bathroom.

Jake choked on his coffee.



Jake sat in the meeting room of the consulting firm where he worked, surrounded by jabbering co-workers. His face was a blank mask, his thoughts straying to a small plastic doll that sat in his home. He imagined her wearing the lace teddy he had found, posing seductively, urging him on, on, on....the chatter of his associates barely penetrated his ears.

"What about that Jennings deal?"

"We'll have to get the lay of the land before we move on it."'

"Get everything together fact-wise and we'll toss it around."

"Chinese delivery for group lunch suit everyone?"

"Suits me."

"Okay, get the orders and we'll strap on the feed bag."

"Check. I could eat a horse."

"Make that two. What do you want from Fong's, Jake?"

"Jake?"



"Helen! I'm home!" Jake said as he walked in the door.

"Hello, dear. Dinner's almost ready. Give me another 10 minutes or so. Busy day at the firm, just got in myself. That Robertson case is driving me insane!"

Jake walked purposefully into the living room. There she was, almost exactly where she had been yesterday. Quinn had fixed the doll's hair, dressed her in a bathing suit, and placed all the clothes on tiny plastic hangers which hung from a small plastic rod across the top of the "closet". Jake's face brightened immediately upon seeing Barbee.

"Hey, that's quite a bathing suit you've got on there, Barbee! Yes sir, what do you think of that? Ol' Barbee's quite the looker, eh?" Jake gushed.

"What was that, honey?" Helen called from the kitchen.

"Nothing dear. Listen, Barbee baby, what say we get you all dressed for dinner, eh? Something classy. Nice evening gown, okay? Let's see what we've got to choose from..." Jake began removing outfits from the box, when he suddenly stopped cold.

Behind the outfits he had removed, Jake found a male doll standing in the "closet", clad only in a pair of shorts. Jake's mouth dropped open, and a series of stammering questions emerged from his mouth.

"Wha....who...Barbee...who's this?" he said with a shocked tone. "HELEN!" he screamed, "Who the hell is this in Barbee's closet!" Jake's face was a mask of fury.

Oh God, what is it now? Helen thought, rushing to her husband. Jake sounded on the verge of a full-blown psychotic attack, and she would rather the girls didn't see it. "Jake, calm down for heaven's sake, what's wrong?" she asked. She saw Jake pointing fervently at the doll in the middle of Barbee's "closet".

"Where did HE come from?" Jake cried.

"That's Ken, Barbee's boyfriend. Quinn just begged me for him this morning after you left, and I picked him up on my lunch hour. Don't worry, I got Daria something to balance it out; neither one cost very much, we can afford it," Helen explained gently. "Come on into the kitchen and help me with dinner, sweetie."

Jake went from manically upset to quietly depressed in an instant; Helen mistook this for him calming down and turned back to the kitchen.

"I'm not feeling so good tonight, honey," Jake said quietly. "I think I'll just go to bed early." His shoulders slumped, a defeated-looking Jake trudged off in the opposite direction as his wife. Helen turned around and watched him with concern. She wanted to comfort him, but she had two daughters that needed tending to; they had to eat, do their homework, and take their baths. Maybe Jake would be receptive later. Helen sighed and returned to the kitchen. Making a marriage function was sure a lot harder than she'd thought it would be.



Jake sat on the bed in his pajama bottoms, a half bottle of whiskey he'd stashed away for "emergencies" in his hand. I should have known it. What do we have in common? I'm a married man and she's a doll. It couldn't last. We were doomed from the start. How can I face myself? How can I face Helen? What have I done? God, just kill me now and get it over with. Jake put the bottle to his lips and took another swig, drinking deeply, feeling the alcohol burn its way into his stomach.

When the bottle was empty, Jake passed out on his side of the bed. The empty bottle fell out of his outstretched hand and rolled under the bed. When Helen got around to checking on him, she thought he was asleep.



The next day, a hung-over Jake sat in the meeting room, silent and sullen. In his mind's eye, he saw Barbee and Ken, hand in plastic hand, laughing at him and frolicking merrily together. Jake's head sunk lower and lower until it lay buried in his arms. His co-workers jabbered on and on.

"What about this Mortimer deal?"

"We'll have to get the lay of the land before we move on it."

"Get everything together fact-wise and we'll toss it around."

"Deli delivery for group lunch suit everyone?"

"Suits me."

"Okay, get the orders together and we'll strap on the feed bag."

"Check. I could eat a horse."

"Make that two. What do you want from Greenburg's, Jake?"

"Jake?"



Jake Morgendorffer pulled into the driveway of his Highland, Texas home and shut off his car's engine. He was utterly exhausted, the events of the past few days (coupled with his drinking binge the night before) taxing him to the limit. It's all been so bad, so wrong. How could I have screwed up so bad? Is there anything left? Any reason to go through that door? Well, there was Helen. As far as he knew, she was unaware of his indiscretion. If you can call it that. It was a doll, after all. Helen, sweet Helen, such a wonderful, beautiful woman, such a good mother to his Quinn and Daria. Perhaps I can start again. Maybe it's not too late. I can make it up to her! I know I can!

Jake lept from the car with an enthusiasm he hadn't felt in months, maybe years. He ran for the front door, and practically erupted through it.

"Helen! Helen! Where are you?" he cried.

"Hello dear! Dinner's almost ready. Give me-"

"Helen! Helen! My sweet, dear Helen!" Jake cried, and ran in the direction of the kitchen. As he did so, he missed seeing a large box sitting on the floor. His feet caught it, and he crashed to the carpet with a thud.

"What the...?" he asked, looking at the box. On it's cover, a woman stood with her arms slightly outstretched and her palms facing upward. The odd thing was, you could see inside of her; internal organs, skeletal structure, and musculature were clearly shown. The box was stamped with the words "The Visible Woman". Jake saw that it had come partially open, and inside he could see a plastic model of a woman with invisible skin covering various bones and organs, just like the cover.

"What happened?" cried Helen, running from the kitchen. "Oh! I told Daria to pick that thing up earlier! I swear, the way those two girls leave their things lying around, you'd think they don't care what happens to them. I'm sorry, dear."

Jake pulled the model from the box. The "woman" was indeed visible, with a slightly more rubenesque figure than Barbee had.  Jake stood up with his back to Helen, cradling the model in his arms.

"Are you alright, Jakey?" Helen asked. "What did you want to talk to me about?"

Jake looked down at the figure in his arms. A small smile crossed his face.

"Nothing, dear. Nothing at all."

FIN