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In reply to: Snowflakes of Tens
“Le tunnel”, as they called it now, had become a high-class French restaurant for bugs of all layers of bugsociety.
Crawlers, diggers and blood-suckers everywhere came for the most refined feast of meals imaginable. Roasted snail on shelly, topped with sherry sour cream with gorelick sauté and poursley purée was today’s special. Heck Thor and Walty Creemlon wouldn’t have missed it for anything and drooled of envy waiting behind the line of roaches who’d been camping there all night to be the first.[link: tunnel]
In reply to: The Eights’ Shift, Stories
The alien bodies loved to dance. “Let’s do the time warp again!” they shouted in unison.
“It’s just a jump to the left…”The peeping Peaslander was won over by such enthusiasm. “What is your secret?” he asked, beguiled, yet raucous a tad.
“Oh, well, the alien named Comice replied, are you sure you want to hear it?”
“Come on, I’m dying of impatience”
Comice gave a sideways look at her friend Williams’ Bon Chretien. Then she enunciated very deliberately: “Malkoovich”In reply to: Strings of Nines
“Minky!” called Winky, “Hey Minky, yesterdays attraction was tops, loved it! Great tour!”
“Ah” replied Minky, after a long pause. “What was it that appealed to you the most?” he asked, fishing for clues. He had no recollection of organizing any excursions.
“The Pop In, in that old Charlie Chaplin movie, very clever, I wasn’t expecting that!”
“Aha! Yes!” Thinking quickly, Minky added “I had a feeling you’d like that one”.
In reply to: Strings of Nines
Arona was starting to get cold in the pinkini. She wondered how the lady with the green hair managed to keep warm with so little (not to say as much as nothing) on her skin.
She probably had some fuel more lasting than just Nhum.
Upon seeing that (not the nakie lady, Flove forbid, but the freezing Arona and the night falling down), chivalrous Vinny and Bucky went to gather some bones and fire to spend the night around a nice bonefire. Just what she needed for a keetle of hot tea.Note from the observing Sue Maffey, who started quickly to get high and delirious on Nhum tea in chippendale cups and mumbled to herself and patient Minky-in-crutches in between a few hiccups: “you knew that a bonfire is actually a fire made of bones, originally said of fires in which the bones of slaughtered animals were burned, allegedly a Gaengelic tradition of the slaughter season in autumn (Samhain, which was soon to come).”
She almost gasped wondering where their camelephants had suddenly gone and why that purple reckless dragon suddenly looked satiated.By now, almost everyone else who was there, including (but not only) Mandrake, Yickesy, Winky-nakie-greenie-Messmeerah-with-her-carved-jamón and Mrs Janet had thought the same at least once. That and wondering whether they’d ever get to see that famed Jiborium.
So much for cheap package tours.In reply to: The Eights’ Shift, Stories
Unable to hear, see, smell or taste in the usual manner, they sensed sound, aromas, sights and flavours with the sense threads that hung from their shoulders. Unfortunately sense threads were out of fashion this season and the aliens had plucked them all out, not wishing to appear passe and frumpy. Without their sense threads, however, they failed to notice that their appearance would no longer be appearing in any sense whatsoever to any of their friends. The senseless endeavour remained unsensed entirely, until the appearance of Eggboot, who immediately sensed (using a variety of sense apparatus) that this was all a strange kind of none sense party.
In reply to: The Eights’ Shift, Stories
Eggwoot, rather bored by the meeting of the heads, rolled outside to enjoy a sneaky peagarette. He was startled to see a group of alien bodies in the distance making strange contortions.
“Are they dancing?” he wondered, intrigued.
In reply to: Strings of Nines
In reply to: The Eights’ Shift, Stories
There, at the special bodies event, a big spiritism session was organised.
Through one of the old bodies of wisdom, came forth the great Forehead of Mazelduk, eager to converse with the lowly bodies and impart its knowledge of the great things bodies couldn’t fathom.
Such thing was, for instance, that bodies of sweet Peasland did not need to wait for the coming of the alien bodies (the alien bodies would be easily recognizable, as they were shaped as pears). Peasland bodies could very much so start to contact them, on their own —and even better, with a bit of luck, hope for successfully abducting some of them.
Such was the grand wisdom of the Forehead.In reply to: Strings of Nines
“Sorry, but who are you?” Arona was puzzled. Not wanting to be rude, but really she had no idea who all these people were.
In reply to: Strings of Nines
Mandrake rolled his eyes, something he had learned from Arona, which made Yickesy chuckle.
Arona sighed, rolling her eyes twice and asked: “So who want some Nuhm tea?”
“Where does that tea set come from”, asked Vincentius.In reply to: Strings of Nines
It was a great relief for Arona to realise the hot pink bikini was just another figment of her slightly muddled brain. Shaking her head she desperately tried to work out what was happening, and who all these strangers were. Would there be enough tea cups to go around? she worried.
In reply to: Strings of Nines
Mandrake sighed. That trip on dragon’s back was a fast and bumpy ride. They’d landed right in the middle of the group of tourists in no time at all, and surprisingly Arona, still high on Nhum spiked tea had failed to notice much of what had just happened, let alone that her progeny was in the midst of them.
Even more surprisingly, the tourists had failed to notice their colourful, noisy and dusty landing, not to say the purple dragon itself that Vincentius had to refrain eating one of the big two-humped beasts. That dragon cloaking magic, was a hell of a powerful jinx.“Strange,” Arona said in her mild stuporous state “am I missing some events there? and… is it me, or that travel guide is a cross-dresser?”
And casting a suspicious look at Vincentius, almost blushing “and how did I enter into that hot pink bikini?”
In reply to: Strings of Nines
Minky suggested they continued their trip on camelephant’s back, a somewhat surprising mix between camel and elephant. She said her uncle had a special breed in a farm nearby and that she would be happy to take some news.
When Yickesy heard that, he thought that maybe they could jump on the occasion and maybe leave silently when Minky would be busy with her uncle.Arona was too busy with her chippendale tea set and mumbled something unclear that Minky took as a ‘yes’, and Vincentius rolled his eyes, as someone had to do it at that moment.
In reply to: Strings of Nines
Shelly Dwelling, horrifed ~ naturally enough ~ at the mention of butter and parsley, was immensely relieved to see Frobisher the frog gliding along in his electric wheelchair. “Hop on, Shelly!” he whispered urgently “My wheelchair is super fast, I’ll get you out of this pickle in a jiffy!”
“Frobisher! Oh my godfrogs, it’s good to see you! What timing! But I can’t hop!”
“Well neither can I now, without my legs” he replied, “But you can climb up my wheel, can’t you?”
“Well ok, but don’t move, I’m on my way, this may take a while…”
“Hurry, Shelly! Hurry up! I can smell butter melting, there’s no time to lose!”
Unfortunately for Shelly who was a quarter of the way up the left wheel, Frobisher engaged his electric motor and sped off into the long grass. It would have been far too risky to wait.
“Hang on, Shelly! This will be the ride of your life!” he called, as Shelly spun round the giant Ferris Wheel.
“I suppose this is why your name is Frobisher Ferris” she replied through gritted teeth.
In reply to: Strings of Nines
Arona gazed fondly at her bottle of Nhum before putting it carefully back in her bag. You couldn’t be too careful with bottles of Nhum. They weren’t easy to come by after all.
“What on earth is that? asked Mandrake.
“That, my dear Mandrake,” replied Arona smugly, “Is my bottle of Nhum.” She smiled enigmatically.
In reply to: Strings of Nines
As any mindful reader, if there are indeed any who have been following this wondrous tale, would surely know by now, the idea that Mandrake would lick Arona’s toes is extremely unlikely. True, Arona did proffer her toes invitingly to Mandrake, however he merely snorted and disdainfully looked away.
“That Wawakawakwaka place with about 35 letters in between the “W” and the “N” sounds very odd doesn’t it?” mused Arona.
“Thirty four letters as a matter of fact.”
Arona rolled her eyes. “Trust you to count them.”
In reply to: Strings of Nines
“W-a-t-e-r-f-r-i-n-g-i-n-m-e-l-o-n … yes still way too short!” Yikesy wasn’t really the party type and felt ridiculous wearing a bowler hat. While the others were engaged in general merriment precipitated by the arrival of the champagne, he surreptitiously removed the map from Minky’s backpack.
He scanned the map till he found what he was looking for.
Meanwhile ….
Arona giggled. “Look at that sign! Waakaawaakawaawaawaawaawaawaawahuhun! I want to go there!”
Mandrake raised an elegant eyebrow. “I suppose it is as good as anywhere, considering we have no idea where we are going.”
“I will run ahead and make sure it is safe.” announced Vincentius melodically. “You rest Arona, and eat these delicious sandwiches I whipped up earlier.”
“And shall I lick her feet for you while we wait?” asked the sarcastic Mandrake.
“Splendid idea. Thank you Mandrake!”
In reply to: Snowflakes of Tens
Looking outside, it seemed the sunflowers had burnt too. The unique huge seed they carried inside would surely taste good, grilled with salt and clarified butter, and would be enough to feed the village for a few months, and maybe a few satiated Murganians if need be.
[link: burnt stuff]
In reply to: Strings of Nines
Messmeerah started to carve the name of all the funny bunch on a huge jamón from the fifth leg (the meatiest) of a jelly boar of the steppes, starting with her own —name, not leg— as a reminder of the good time they had all together. She was thinking as well that it would taste lovely with some of these Jiborium’s truffles.
She was sad to had to let them go, but frankly her old routines were starting to get too scrambled. For one, she didn’t quite remember if Minky was still a redhair rat in her hair (now she thought of it, breeding tiny shrews in her attic didn’t really work so well), or was now back in his human form with a secret revenge of his own on his mind. But that would be maybe a slight stretch. And gosh, did she abhor stretch marks, even on her lovely brains.
— “Oh come on, dear,” one of the motley participants, a cheery big-boned and outrageously made-up of make-up woman said in a bizarre Lizabethian accent, with a hint of bossiness that showed she had not been used to being contradicted much in her life. “Join us on that trip to Mr Jiborium’s, you shall find yourself a use or two.”
Taken aback by the turn of the events, Messmeerah, also known as Winky, took the jamón under her arm, and against all common sense decided to join the crew —thanking the Mighty Mungibs for the improbable feat of continuity that had appeared as a sign.
— “Well, if you don’t mind…” Yikesy was starting to object, but realized some things are best left unsaid, and it would be easy enough now to slip out of their sight (and off the rapacious motherly attentions of Mrs Janet, the big-boned tasteless-bags lady with an accent.)
In reply to: Snowflakes of Tens
Alfred, the clockwork Murganian, suddenly remembered he had an overdue library book.
He picked up the dusty book from the oven, took off his coat, rolled to the door and pulled a key from his shoe to let himself out. It was such a very long time since he had been out and he was most surprised to find that the seeds he had planted in the sky some time ago had grown to such an extent that his pathway was no longer accessible.
What to do? wondered Alfred. He wondered for a few minutes then realised that wondering was getting him nowhere and action was called for.
“Help” he shouted.
{link – key}
