I started reading this book under a funk. The sheer amount of crap that had been leaked onto the internet this week was depressing. it wasn't that the book itself was being leaked, it was the futility of the leaking. I mean, what were these people trying to do? Curb the amount of money the publishers were gleaning from the books? Doubtful.
No, it was willy-battles in the showers all over again. The 'I've read it before you - ner-ner-ne-ner-ner' mentality that just proves that there really are sadder fucks out there than die-hard HP fans as myself
About 2 days after the last book came out t-shirt companies were printing 'Snape Kills Dumbledore' t-shirts, professing that they'd saved readers from wasting a few days of their lives reading the latest HP book. So, what? You want the readers to save the £6 from the book and spend that £6 on your poorly designed t-shirt? It's not the conclusion, it's the journey. there were videos on the web of fuckwits driving past barnes & Nobles shouting "SNAPE KILLS DUMBLEDORE" and laughing like gibbons at the upset faces they left behind. But what they didn't capture on their crappy £100 camcorders is the fact that everyone they told still went into the store and bought the book anyway. Simply hearing someone shouting out a possible ending isn't enough to want us to know how that possible ending came about.
I knew how this one ended. I saw the last 3 words. I still wanted to experience the journey that led to those words.
And I'm glad the funk lifted. the first thing that starts to drag about this book is that there's no real Hogwarts, not in the regular sense. It's in the book, and forms the basis for the book's excellent climax, but Harry doesn't spend a second of him time there in studies. It appears that his oath at the end of HBP held fast.
Harry is in search of the Horcruxes, the fragments of Voldemort's soul that, if left unchecked, would mean that Voldemort can return to life many times over. On his journey to find the horcruxes, Harry becomes distracted by another quest, that of the Deathly Hallows, 3 items linked by a simple symbol, apparently able to render their holder invinvible. It's possible that Voldemort had learned of the deathly hallows, but in his greed to find the hallows, has he left his Horcruxes unguarded?
There are times when it dragged, and I honestly feared for the pace of the book, as well as for the well-being of some of the characters, but after the necessary lull in the action (JK does love her exposition) the action started up again and just.didn't stop.
Some rumours were true, some were laughably pathetic. One was engageingly enigmatic, which means William Hill is going to have a perplexing time handing out payments.
9.5/10
My Final rating;
DH
GoF
OotP
HBP
PoA
CoS
PS(SS)
14 July 2007
Damn, my boy rocks
Took the young'un to the kent show yesterday. It's an annual thing held at the County Showground at Detling every year. It claims to be a showcase of local produce and enterprise but depending on where you go, it can resemble a boot-fair with a £16 entry fee in places.
Still, there's loads to see and do, Titan the Robot makes regular appearances, even if his act hasn't changed in 4 years. (don't bother with the Lab4 vid), plus there's dog displays, hawking displays,, fly-fishing displays, and the toffs from the countryside alliance sit in their canvas chairs sipping sherry and bleating on about how the ban on fox-hunting came about because Parliament is biased against them as they have money. can't have the poor oiks joining in on the hunt now, can we?
Anyhoo, we were thinking of making our way to the exit when we passed the Duke of Edinburgh stand, which while promoting youth ventures, had one of those climbing walls you see in pre-vandalism youth centres. Saw a couple of guys having a go, and then this young kid had a go, must have been 4 years old. Didn't seem too au fait with the whole experience, and started crying about a foot off the ground. While we were watching him get unbuckled, I looked over and Luke was positively chomping at the bit to get over the barrier to have a go. The instructors saw this and asked him if he wanted a go, we said that he's only 2, but they simply said they'd get him strapped up and they'd let him hang on the rope for a while. Sounded like a laugh, so Lukey stood there while they got him all harnessed up
So they put a helmet on him and he RAN at the wall. With a bit of help he was well off..
Had to get a video of it too.
The female instructor asked us twice if we were sure he was only 2, she'd been doing it for 5 years and she'd never seen enthusiasm like it. I don't mean to brag or anything, but damn.
Still, there's loads to see and do, Titan the Robot makes regular appearances, even if his act hasn't changed in 4 years. (don't bother with the Lab4 vid), plus there's dog displays, hawking displays,, fly-fishing displays, and the toffs from the countryside alliance sit in their canvas chairs sipping sherry and bleating on about how the ban on fox-hunting came about because Parliament is biased against them as they have money. can't have the poor oiks joining in on the hunt now, can we?
Anyhoo, we were thinking of making our way to the exit when we passed the Duke of Edinburgh stand, which while promoting youth ventures, had one of those climbing walls you see in pre-vandalism youth centres. Saw a couple of guys having a go, and then this young kid had a go, must have been 4 years old. Didn't seem too au fait with the whole experience, and started crying about a foot off the ground. While we were watching him get unbuckled, I looked over and Luke was positively chomping at the bit to get over the barrier to have a go. The instructors saw this and asked him if he wanted a go, we said that he's only 2, but they simply said they'd get him strapped up and they'd let him hang on the rope for a while. Sounded like a laugh, so Lukey stood there while they got him all harnessed up
So they put a helmet on him and he RAN at the wall. With a bit of help he was well off..
Had to get a video of it too.
The female instructor asked us twice if we were sure he was only 2, she'd been doing it for 5 years and she'd never seen enthusiasm like it. I don't mean to brag or anything, but damn.
17 June 2007
The Big Top
Props to my good friend Ant for supplying me with the four nouns: Clown. Pelvis. Splinter. Ditch
The conversation had reached a standstill, again, and Mick drove along the country lane in silence. His wife, Alice, sat in the passenger seat and gazed out of the window. Pretty pointless, as it was pitch black and there weren’t any street lights out there. The radio had finally packed up, which had been a long time coming. He’d meant to get it replaced but it one of those things on his ‘to do’ list that he’d just never gotten around ‘to doing‘.
“Umm.. Clear night…” desperate attempt at chit-chat. She looked fleetingly forward.
“Mm”
Wow, didn’t even attempt to continue that, mind you, it was pretty lame. He turned the radio on again. Still nothing but static.
“Bloody thing, Just wish I had a tape or something…”
“Wasn’t there one in the back of the seat? In the pocket thing?”
“Yeah, but I think it’s Meatloaf”
“Better than sitting here in silence”. Jeez, turn the knife, will ya?
“Look, I’m sorry about the party. I just happen to believe in speaking my mind”
“Yeah, that’s noble, but not when you call the host’s wife’s dress something that resembles an art-deco marquee” That raised a smile for them both.
“Where did you say that tape was?”
“Um… in the back of your seat, I think, here, let me have a look” She stretched back and through the gap in the seats to try to reach the pocket, as she did so, Mike glanced at his wife’s chest. The stretching had caused her blouse to gape and he caught a sneaky look at her bra-clad breasts. He smiled to himself, but the moment vanished as he realised he was resorting to catching pervy glimpses of his own wife. She sat back down.
“Nope, can’t feel it in there, might be in this seat… you ok?”
“Yeah, I’m fine, here, lemme have a look” He stretched over, his hand on the wheel wobbling as he tried to keep the car in a straight line.
“Why don’t you pull over?” She watched the road intently, her hand hovering near the wheel, ready to take over should the car swerve.
“No, it’s ok, I’ve nearly got the tape… Oh Shit!!!” He’d returned his gaze to the road, just in time to see the deer in the road ahead. He slammed on the brakes, the tyres screeching and smoking, but he was still hurtling towards the startled animal. He yanked the wheel to the left, missing the deer by inches, but the car was heading off the road, and ended up at an angle in the ditch that ran alongside it.
“Oh shit, shit. Are you ok honey?” Alice turned to him, her face a mixture of shock and anger.
“Yes, I think I’m fine, no thanks to you. I told you to pull over, didn’t I?”
“Yes, yes, but that doesn’t help us now, does it?” He fumbled in his pockets for his mobile phone. “Crap. No signal. What about yours?”
“We’re on the same network” Said Alice grudgingly. “I told you we should be on different ones, just in case” Mike threw his hands up in the air.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, it’s always a bloody argument with you, isn’t it? Look, there’s some lights over there through those trees, I’ll walk over and see if there’s a phone I can borrow. Anything wrong with that?” Alice sat squarely in her seat and started jabbing at her phone.
“What are you doing? There’s no signal.”
“I’m going to play my sudoku game, actually, to pass the time while you go off hiking.”
He slammed the door and marched off into the woods by the road. After 20 feet he realised it might not have been such a good idea, the ground was very uneven and seemed to be mainly marshland, the bottoms of his trouser legs were sodden as he stumbled on towards the distant lights. Eventually, he came to a clearing, but there wasn’t a house, it was a circus tent, grey and derelict. No vehicles in sight, but a string of light-bulbs around the edge of the canvas roof were still lit.
“Hello?” he walked towards the tent, which was surrounded by a barbed-wire fence, about waist height. He took off his jacket and draped it over the fence. Using one of the wooden posts as leverage, he vaulted over the top of the fence, but winced in pain as a huge splinter imbedded itself into his hand. “Ah shit. Ow.” He tried to remove the splinter, but it was in the pad near his thumb quite deep, and there wasn’t a lot proud of the surface. It stung like mad, and he shook his hand as he continued walking towards the tent.
“Hello?” Still no answer. He walked around the full circumference of the tent, searching for a way in, his soaked trousers clinging to his skin, freezing in the cold night air. Suddenly, he stopped. He’d just realised how quiet it was. There were no other houses or buildings around, which meant no power, so the lights would have to be powered by a generator, but he couldn’t hear one running. At last, he could see an opening in the canvas curtain. Peering in, it was almost pitch-black. He could make out the rows and rows of seats, and the sawdust covered ring they surrounded. His hand gave a sharp throb, the splinter reminding him of it’s presence. He reached the centre of the ring, on a large, darker patch of sawdust.
“Hello? Is there anyone there? I’ve come off the road and I need to borrow a phone..”
Without warning, the centre of the ring was flooded in a bright light, and jaunty calliope music blared from all around him. He could hear laughter, and screams of delight. He shielded his eyes from the light and once he’d regained his focus, he could see faces, hundreds of faces in the seats around the ring. Women, children, fathers. Balloons, flags. All were laughing heartily in his direction, the children pointing at him.
A honking noise came from his left, he spun around and a clown car wobbled towards him on comically warped wheels, which came away from the car as it stopped. The door fell off and a tall, angular man in a clown’s outfit unfolded himself from the car, to increased laughter. Mike looked at him in confused horror
“How? Who..?” But the clown smiled at him.
“Got me a volunteer already” he confided to him in an aside. “Don’t worry old chap, you’re perfectly safe with me, just follow my lead”
“Look, I’m sorry, I don’t know…” But the clown failed to hear his protests as he proceeded to unfurl a long string of knotted hankies from Mike’s trousers, over-emphasising his facial expressions, Mike had to admit, it was actually rather amusing. Maybe it was all a big gag, turning the lights on like that. His face must have been a picture!
Alice’s phone bleeped with such suddenness she physically jumped in her seat. It was a text from Jackie, the marquee-wearing woman who’s party she’d just left. Alice closed down her sudoku game (only 5 numbers left) and read the text. Jackie’s message was short and abrupt, but she cared enough to make sure her friend had got home safe. Alice sent her a swift text back, with a short apology regarding her husband’s comments, and called the AA. They said they’d be there within the hour, given the time and the remoteness of their location. Alice ended the call and peered out of the window. It was still pitch black, but the lights in the distance were still there, and seemed brighter. She got out of the car and called for Mike. There was no answer, but she could now hear faint music coming from the area of the lights. She retrieved her spare car keys from her handbag, locked the car and slowly started making her way towards the clearing.
Mike and his clown companion seemed to be going down a storm. They’d done the bucket-full-of-paper gag, twice, the third bucket, which, of course, actually contained water, ended up over the ringmaster, to howling laughter from the audience. Mike had done a mime artist bit, which went down ok, and the clown had done some juggling and knife-throwing. The music suddenly quietened and the Clown comically walked over to him.
“Right, up we go then” he whispered and walked off to a ladder by one of the main supports. Blankly, Mike followed him, cautious applause coming from the crowd. At the top of the ladder, the clown fastened a safety line to Mike’s belt. “Trust me” he smiled through his garish greasepaint. Opening a small comedy umbrella, the clown proceeded out onto a high-wire suspended between the two support. He was certainly milking it, wobbling in all the right places, accompanied by increased drum-rolls from the band below. All very entertaining but he obviously had some skills. He eventually reached the other side with a flourish of his arms and a crescendo from the band. He waved at Mike to cross the wire, the audience cheering him on. “Oh well, here goes nothing”.
Alice was now severely pissed off. She was soaked, her new shoes were ruined, and to cap it all, there seemed to be a circus, in full swing, going on ahead of her. She hated circuses, ever since childhood. Something about the clowns just freaked her out.
“If he’s in there watching this shit, I’m going to…” but as she reached the fence, she stopped. The Music had stopped. The light from inside had gone, just the lights around the edge were still lit. She looked at Mike’s coat, draped over the fence. There was no way she was climbing over that in this skirt. She set off to her right, to see if there was a gap in the fence. Eventually she came across a huge sign, but couldn’t make it out. She got out her phone, and shone the light from the screen at the sign. In big, brash letters it advertised the Scolleri
Circus, with pictures of tigers, horses, clowns, all the usual. She noted that the dates were all in January, but looking at the tent in the dim moonlight, it looked like it had been sitting there for way over 5 months. Looking back at the sign, there was a huge banner across the poster, claiming the shows had been cancelled due to unforeseen circumstances. She carried on along the fence, and came to a gap in the wires, the fencing just looked like it had rusted away.
Straining her eyes and ears, she could still make out some faint music, but it sounded like it was being sung, rather than played, and she rushed towards the entrance in the side of the tent.
Mike was halfway across the wire, this was easy! He steadied his feet and did a few comedy wobbles, over-swinging his arms to regain his balance. The clown on the platform opposite laughed heartily at his actions and applauded him. He was feeling great, maybe he should quit his job and run away with the circus. Run away from Alice. He looked down and saw her standing just inside the entrance. She was looking straight at him with sheer terror on her face.
“Mike! What the fuck are you doing??” What WAS he doing? Walking across a wire at the top of a pitch-black circus, singing that bloody song at the top of his voice. “Mike! Why are you up there? You’re gonna fall!”
The Music was getting louder, the audience cheering his every step, his confidence was building. The clown still applauded his act, but had started beckoning him to the safety of the platform. Mike’s bravado was peaking. He was gonna try something, he’d seen it on the TV, but he was sure he could pull it off. As long as he kept his balance, he reckoned he could do that back-somersault.
Alice was frantic. “Mike, I’ve called the AA! I got a signal on my phone, they’re on their way, can you come down please? Please??”
“Hey, the audience are loving this, I’m gonna do one last trick!” He yelled down to her.
“WHAT AUDIENCE??”
The lights faded, the crowd disappeared, but the clown stayed, applauding him with silent clapping. He looked at his feet. He was standing on a wire. Holy shit. He was standing on a wire in slick-soled shoes.
“Mike! Come down!” Alice was clutching her hands to her chest, tears streaming down her face.
“Alice! How did I get up here? Wait.. Wha…?” His feet slipped from the wire, Alice screamed, but Mike caught the wire with his hands, the frayed metal piercing his palms, but he gritted his teeth and held his grip. Looking down, he was sure if he dropped, he’d probably break something, possibly shatter his pelvis. Looking at the platform to his left, he could still see the clown, still clapping silently, but he was looking at where Mike had been when he was standing on the wire. His actions were repetitive, not natural, but then, what was natural about this place? Gritting his teeth in determination, he shuffled his hands along the wire, slowly moving towards the opposite platform, Alice below shouting up encouragement. With about a foot to go, the splinter in his hand gave an almighty throb, causing him to let go with that hand, at the same time, the lights returned, as did the music and the audience, all cheering and clapping. Alice looked around at them in horror.
“Where did these… What’s going on Mike?”
“I’m a bit busy Honey, gimme a sec, will ya” With a last surge of effort, he reached up with the splinter-infected hand and grabbed the platform. He hauled himself up and held onto the pole, panting in exhaustion. He looked back at the other platform. The clown was looking directly at him, smiling. He gave him a few claps, removed his hat and bowed. Mike could see there was a rather flat surface where the back of his head should have been. He stood up, replaced his hat, and vanished, along with the audience, lights and music.
Mike reached the bottom of the ladder with some difficulty, as the palms of his hands were pretty sliced up from the wire. He looked st the splinter, which was now standing proud of the surface. He bit the end with his teeth and yanked it out of his hand. It didn’t hurt at all, which surprised him, as it was a big one. Alice rushed towards him and held him in a tight embrace. Holding him for support, she led him out of the tent, and out towards the fence. The sun was coming up now, and the area was quite well lit. the lights around the edge of the tent were not just out, but gone.
“What happened here, Mike?” Alice’s face was ashen. Mike shook his head, he couldn’t even begin to explain what he’d seen, but as he looked up, he could see the fence surrounding the circus tent was threaded with blue-and-white police tape. It was the kind with ‘crime-scene - do not cross’ written on it, but it looked eroded and aged.
In the emerging daylight, they could see a clear path through the trees leading to the road, coming out not 100 yards in front of their car, where they could also see the amber flashing lights of the AA van as it arrived.
In silence, they held each other as they walked through the gap in the fence, past the large sign advertising the dates of the circus shows. A gust of wind blew the edge of the cancellation notice aside;
Showdates: 17th January - 25th January. 1986.
Copyright Peter Morris-Kelso. All characters and events are fictitious, no connection to any person, living or dead is implied nor should it be inferred.
The conversation had reached a standstill, again, and Mick drove along the country lane in silence. His wife, Alice, sat in the passenger seat and gazed out of the window. Pretty pointless, as it was pitch black and there weren’t any street lights out there. The radio had finally packed up, which had been a long time coming. He’d meant to get it replaced but it one of those things on his ‘to do’ list that he’d just never gotten around ‘to doing‘.
“Umm.. Clear night…” desperate attempt at chit-chat. She looked fleetingly forward.
“Mm”
Wow, didn’t even attempt to continue that, mind you, it was pretty lame. He turned the radio on again. Still nothing but static.
“Bloody thing, Just wish I had a tape or something…”
“Wasn’t there one in the back of the seat? In the pocket thing?”
“Yeah, but I think it’s Meatloaf”
“Better than sitting here in silence”. Jeez, turn the knife, will ya?
“Look, I’m sorry about the party. I just happen to believe in speaking my mind”
“Yeah, that’s noble, but not when you call the host’s wife’s dress something that resembles an art-deco marquee” That raised a smile for them both.
“Where did you say that tape was?”
“Um… in the back of your seat, I think, here, let me have a look” She stretched back and through the gap in the seats to try to reach the pocket, as she did so, Mike glanced at his wife’s chest. The stretching had caused her blouse to gape and he caught a sneaky look at her bra-clad breasts. He smiled to himself, but the moment vanished as he realised he was resorting to catching pervy glimpses of his own wife. She sat back down.
“Nope, can’t feel it in there, might be in this seat… you ok?”
“Yeah, I’m fine, here, lemme have a look” He stretched over, his hand on the wheel wobbling as he tried to keep the car in a straight line.
“Why don’t you pull over?” She watched the road intently, her hand hovering near the wheel, ready to take over should the car swerve.
“No, it’s ok, I’ve nearly got the tape… Oh Shit!!!” He’d returned his gaze to the road, just in time to see the deer in the road ahead. He slammed on the brakes, the tyres screeching and smoking, but he was still hurtling towards the startled animal. He yanked the wheel to the left, missing the deer by inches, but the car was heading off the road, and ended up at an angle in the ditch that ran alongside it.
“Oh shit, shit. Are you ok honey?” Alice turned to him, her face a mixture of shock and anger.
“Yes, I think I’m fine, no thanks to you. I told you to pull over, didn’t I?”
“Yes, yes, but that doesn’t help us now, does it?” He fumbled in his pockets for his mobile phone. “Crap. No signal. What about yours?”
“We’re on the same network” Said Alice grudgingly. “I told you we should be on different ones, just in case” Mike threw his hands up in the air.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, it’s always a bloody argument with you, isn’t it? Look, there’s some lights over there through those trees, I’ll walk over and see if there’s a phone I can borrow. Anything wrong with that?” Alice sat squarely in her seat and started jabbing at her phone.
“What are you doing? There’s no signal.”
“I’m going to play my sudoku game, actually, to pass the time while you go off hiking.”
He slammed the door and marched off into the woods by the road. After 20 feet he realised it might not have been such a good idea, the ground was very uneven and seemed to be mainly marshland, the bottoms of his trouser legs were sodden as he stumbled on towards the distant lights. Eventually, he came to a clearing, but there wasn’t a house, it was a circus tent, grey and derelict. No vehicles in sight, but a string of light-bulbs around the edge of the canvas roof were still lit.
“Hello?” he walked towards the tent, which was surrounded by a barbed-wire fence, about waist height. He took off his jacket and draped it over the fence. Using one of the wooden posts as leverage, he vaulted over the top of the fence, but winced in pain as a huge splinter imbedded itself into his hand. “Ah shit. Ow.” He tried to remove the splinter, but it was in the pad near his thumb quite deep, and there wasn’t a lot proud of the surface. It stung like mad, and he shook his hand as he continued walking towards the tent.
“Hello?” Still no answer. He walked around the full circumference of the tent, searching for a way in, his soaked trousers clinging to his skin, freezing in the cold night air. Suddenly, he stopped. He’d just realised how quiet it was. There were no other houses or buildings around, which meant no power, so the lights would have to be powered by a generator, but he couldn’t hear one running. At last, he could see an opening in the canvas curtain. Peering in, it was almost pitch-black. He could make out the rows and rows of seats, and the sawdust covered ring they surrounded. His hand gave a sharp throb, the splinter reminding him of it’s presence. He reached the centre of the ring, on a large, darker patch of sawdust.
“Hello? Is there anyone there? I’ve come off the road and I need to borrow a phone..”
Without warning, the centre of the ring was flooded in a bright light, and jaunty calliope music blared from all around him. He could hear laughter, and screams of delight. He shielded his eyes from the light and once he’d regained his focus, he could see faces, hundreds of faces in the seats around the ring. Women, children, fathers. Balloons, flags. All were laughing heartily in his direction, the children pointing at him.
A honking noise came from his left, he spun around and a clown car wobbled towards him on comically warped wheels, which came away from the car as it stopped. The door fell off and a tall, angular man in a clown’s outfit unfolded himself from the car, to increased laughter. Mike looked at him in confused horror
“How? Who..?” But the clown smiled at him.
“Got me a volunteer already” he confided to him in an aside. “Don’t worry old chap, you’re perfectly safe with me, just follow my lead”
“Look, I’m sorry, I don’t know…” But the clown failed to hear his protests as he proceeded to unfurl a long string of knotted hankies from Mike’s trousers, over-emphasising his facial expressions, Mike had to admit, it was actually rather amusing. Maybe it was all a big gag, turning the lights on like that. His face must have been a picture!
Alice’s phone bleeped with such suddenness she physically jumped in her seat. It was a text from Jackie, the marquee-wearing woman who’s party she’d just left. Alice closed down her sudoku game (only 5 numbers left) and read the text. Jackie’s message was short and abrupt, but she cared enough to make sure her friend had got home safe. Alice sent her a swift text back, with a short apology regarding her husband’s comments, and called the AA. They said they’d be there within the hour, given the time and the remoteness of their location. Alice ended the call and peered out of the window. It was still pitch black, but the lights in the distance were still there, and seemed brighter. She got out of the car and called for Mike. There was no answer, but she could now hear faint music coming from the area of the lights. She retrieved her spare car keys from her handbag, locked the car and slowly started making her way towards the clearing.
Mike and his clown companion seemed to be going down a storm. They’d done the bucket-full-of-paper gag, twice, the third bucket, which, of course, actually contained water, ended up over the ringmaster, to howling laughter from the audience. Mike had done a mime artist bit, which went down ok, and the clown had done some juggling and knife-throwing. The music suddenly quietened and the Clown comically walked over to him.
“Right, up we go then” he whispered and walked off to a ladder by one of the main supports. Blankly, Mike followed him, cautious applause coming from the crowd. At the top of the ladder, the clown fastened a safety line to Mike’s belt. “Trust me” he smiled through his garish greasepaint. Opening a small comedy umbrella, the clown proceeded out onto a high-wire suspended between the two support. He was certainly milking it, wobbling in all the right places, accompanied by increased drum-rolls from the band below. All very entertaining but he obviously had some skills. He eventually reached the other side with a flourish of his arms and a crescendo from the band. He waved at Mike to cross the wire, the audience cheering him on. “Oh well, here goes nothing”.
Alice was now severely pissed off. She was soaked, her new shoes were ruined, and to cap it all, there seemed to be a circus, in full swing, going on ahead of her. She hated circuses, ever since childhood. Something about the clowns just freaked her out.
“If he’s in there watching this shit, I’m going to…” but as she reached the fence, she stopped. The Music had stopped. The light from inside had gone, just the lights around the edge were still lit. She looked at Mike’s coat, draped over the fence. There was no way she was climbing over that in this skirt. She set off to her right, to see if there was a gap in the fence. Eventually she came across a huge sign, but couldn’t make it out. She got out her phone, and shone the light from the screen at the sign. In big, brash letters it advertised the Scolleri
Circus, with pictures of tigers, horses, clowns, all the usual. She noted that the dates were all in January, but looking at the tent in the dim moonlight, it looked like it had been sitting there for way over 5 months. Looking back at the sign, there was a huge banner across the poster, claiming the shows had been cancelled due to unforeseen circumstances. She carried on along the fence, and came to a gap in the wires, the fencing just looked like it had rusted away.
Straining her eyes and ears, she could still make out some faint music, but it sounded like it was being sung, rather than played, and she rushed towards the entrance in the side of the tent.
Mike was halfway across the wire, this was easy! He steadied his feet and did a few comedy wobbles, over-swinging his arms to regain his balance. The clown on the platform opposite laughed heartily at his actions and applauded him. He was feeling great, maybe he should quit his job and run away with the circus. Run away from Alice. He looked down and saw her standing just inside the entrance. She was looking straight at him with sheer terror on her face.
“Mike! What the fuck are you doing??” What WAS he doing? Walking across a wire at the top of a pitch-black circus, singing that bloody song at the top of his voice. “Mike! Why are you up there? You’re gonna fall!”
The Music was getting louder, the audience cheering his every step, his confidence was building. The clown still applauded his act, but had started beckoning him to the safety of the platform. Mike’s bravado was peaking. He was gonna try something, he’d seen it on the TV, but he was sure he could pull it off. As long as he kept his balance, he reckoned he could do that back-somersault.
Alice was frantic. “Mike, I’ve called the AA! I got a signal on my phone, they’re on their way, can you come down please? Please??”
“Hey, the audience are loving this, I’m gonna do one last trick!” He yelled down to her.
“WHAT AUDIENCE??”
The lights faded, the crowd disappeared, but the clown stayed, applauding him with silent clapping. He looked at his feet. He was standing on a wire. Holy shit. He was standing on a wire in slick-soled shoes.
“Mike! Come down!” Alice was clutching her hands to her chest, tears streaming down her face.
“Alice! How did I get up here? Wait.. Wha…?” His feet slipped from the wire, Alice screamed, but Mike caught the wire with his hands, the frayed metal piercing his palms, but he gritted his teeth and held his grip. Looking down, he was sure if he dropped, he’d probably break something, possibly shatter his pelvis. Looking at the platform to his left, he could still see the clown, still clapping silently, but he was looking at where Mike had been when he was standing on the wire. His actions were repetitive, not natural, but then, what was natural about this place? Gritting his teeth in determination, he shuffled his hands along the wire, slowly moving towards the opposite platform, Alice below shouting up encouragement. With about a foot to go, the splinter in his hand gave an almighty throb, causing him to let go with that hand, at the same time, the lights returned, as did the music and the audience, all cheering and clapping. Alice looked around at them in horror.
“Where did these… What’s going on Mike?”
“I’m a bit busy Honey, gimme a sec, will ya” With a last surge of effort, he reached up with the splinter-infected hand and grabbed the platform. He hauled himself up and held onto the pole, panting in exhaustion. He looked back at the other platform. The clown was looking directly at him, smiling. He gave him a few claps, removed his hat and bowed. Mike could see there was a rather flat surface where the back of his head should have been. He stood up, replaced his hat, and vanished, along with the audience, lights and music.
Mike reached the bottom of the ladder with some difficulty, as the palms of his hands were pretty sliced up from the wire. He looked st the splinter, which was now standing proud of the surface. He bit the end with his teeth and yanked it out of his hand. It didn’t hurt at all, which surprised him, as it was a big one. Alice rushed towards him and held him in a tight embrace. Holding him for support, she led him out of the tent, and out towards the fence. The sun was coming up now, and the area was quite well lit. the lights around the edge of the tent were not just out, but gone.
“What happened here, Mike?” Alice’s face was ashen. Mike shook his head, he couldn’t even begin to explain what he’d seen, but as he looked up, he could see the fence surrounding the circus tent was threaded with blue-and-white police tape. It was the kind with ‘crime-scene - do not cross’ written on it, but it looked eroded and aged.
In the emerging daylight, they could see a clear path through the trees leading to the road, coming out not 100 yards in front of their car, where they could also see the amber flashing lights of the AA van as it arrived.
In silence, they held each other as they walked through the gap in the fence, past the large sign advertising the dates of the circus shows. A gust of wind blew the edge of the cancellation notice aside;
Showdates: 17th January - 25th January. 1986.
Copyright Peter Morris-Kelso. All characters and events are fictitious, no connection to any person, living or dead is implied nor should it be inferred.
03 May 2007
Just testing the ol' powers
never really had a chance to muck around with Window Movie Maker, but since I managed to get the correct lead for the bloody camcorder, it's like a whole new world of possibilities has opened for me.. or some such bollocks...
26 April 2007
Not too fucking sure about this
Recently had to re-install my whole system due to some shitty spy/adware, and only just remembered my poor widdle bwog. So I try to sign in, only to be told I HAVE to sign up for a google account. Not against it in principle, but I don't really like signing up for shit unless I want to. The fact is, this blog, while being run by Blogger, contains my stuff.
It's a little like extortion. You can't get access to your intellectual property unless you sign up for meaningless tat in your inbox on a daily basis. I'll see how it goes.
And 'dashboard'? Puh-leese. And I'm not using that label shit either, If I wanted a myspace page i'd fucking sign up for one.
It's a little like extortion. You can't get access to your intellectual property unless you sign up for meaningless tat in your inbox on a daily basis. I'll see how it goes.
And 'dashboard'? Puh-leese. And I'm not using that label shit either, If I wanted a myspace page i'd fucking sign up for one.
20 March 2007
POTC:AWE
Bonker acronym, I know, but here's the rather stunning trailer for the final Pirates of the carribean movie. I didn't rate the second one much, but they went along the same lines as the second matrix movie, it's a, interstitial movie rather than a complete tale.
One of the great aspects of the first movie was the exemplary swordplay, something that was missing, IMHO, from the second (The three-way sword fight was messy). What we needed was the spectacle of the Sparrow/Barbosa battle in the moonlit cave. It looks like we're gonna get more of this with Sparrow/Jones.
And I think I'll actually bother going to the flicks for this one, shock horror.
One of the great aspects of the first movie was the exemplary swordplay, something that was missing, IMHO, from the second (The three-way sword fight was messy). What we needed was the spectacle of the Sparrow/Barbosa battle in the moonlit cave. It looks like we're gonna get more of this with Sparrow/Jones.
And I think I'll actually bother going to the flicks for this one, shock horror.
22 February 2007
Youtube rocks.
excuse the corporate suck-up title. But for ages I've been searching for various clips that I'm sure that I may or may not have seen many, many years ago. I'm a great nostalgia freak (check my post on retro-gaming) so just to watch little snippets is enough to satisfy me anough. For example, I'll hapilly watch the opening credits of Metal Mickey, but i'll be damned if I'm gonna watch a whole episode
See what I mean? Boogie boogie indeed.
It's also a great resourse if you want to relate an experience to someone. A few years ago we went to Universal Studios Spain, where there was a walkthrough ride called templo del Fuego. At the time I didn't have my video camera, and trying to describe it to friends was a chore, and actually took about 10 times as long to relate...
No longer...
See what I mean? Boogie boogie indeed.
It's also a great resourse if you want to relate an experience to someone. A few years ago we went to Universal Studios Spain, where there was a walkthrough ride called templo del Fuego. At the time I didn't have my video camera, and trying to describe it to friends was a chore, and actually took about 10 times as long to relate...
No longer...
21 February 2007
Seriously, who cares?
I'm an avid Fark Lurker, and one of its tenets is to expose the hypocrisy of the tabloid media. However, in doing so, it's ironically becoming the thing it's trying to ridicule.
I refer, of course, to the shenanigans of the baldie in the post below. Every 10th post is 'Britney checks into rehab', then 'Britney checks out of Rehab', then 'Britney tells everyone she shaved her head off because she had lice'.
I don't care anymore. The girl hasn't done anything creative for about 4 years, and as such, neither deserves or needs the constant barrage of attention she's been getting.
Yes, yes, I'm aware of the irony of posting an entry about Britters to decry posts in general about britney.
Maybe if she stopped going on the lash with her flange hanging out, maybe the paps would stop shoving telephoto lenses up there.
That is all
actually, one more thing. I've had to delete a minor post below because some dickless, sad, paedophile, no-life spamming fuck with herpes bookmarked that entry's comments page.
I refer, of course, to the shenanigans of the baldie in the post below. Every 10th post is 'Britney checks into rehab', then 'Britney checks out of Rehab', then 'Britney tells everyone she shaved her head off because she had lice'.
I don't care anymore. The girl hasn't done anything creative for about 4 years, and as such, neither deserves or needs the constant barrage of attention she's been getting.
Yes, yes, I'm aware of the irony of posting an entry about Britters to decry posts in general about britney.
Maybe if she stopped going on the lash with her flange hanging out, maybe the paps would stop shoving telephoto lenses up there.
That is all
actually, one more thing. I've had to delete a minor post below because some dickless, sad, paedophile, no-life spamming fuck with herpes bookmarked that entry's comments page.
17 February 2007
Poor, poor little rich girls
Anna Nicole smith's dead. britney lost it, shaved her head and checked into rehab. boo-fucking-hoo
These women have got more money than the likes of us mere mortal will ever see in several lifetimes, and all they've done is piss it away. Moreso with Anna.
It's sad that she died, yes, but she was one seriously fucked-up induvidual who shouldn't have left alone with anything that could lead to a financial transaction of any kind. In her will she's left everything to her son, Daniel. Oh crap, didn't he die just after her baby was born? Oh well, let's just hope that she didn't put a clause in her will that expressly forbade her money from going to any other member of her family, least of all her 5-month old baby.
She did? Not even the 15 men who are lining up for a DNA test to prove they're the actual father of her child, and not her most recent husband who wasn't an oil billionaire?
All anna-nicole did was fuck, party, then die, screwing up the lives of those she left behind.
These women have got more money than the likes of us mere mortal will ever see in several lifetimes, and all they've done is piss it away. Moreso with Anna.
It's sad that she died, yes, but she was one seriously fucked-up induvidual who shouldn't have left alone with anything that could lead to a financial transaction of any kind. In her will she's left everything to her son, Daniel. Oh crap, didn't he die just after her baby was born? Oh well, let's just hope that she didn't put a clause in her will that expressly forbade her money from going to any other member of her family, least of all her 5-month old baby.
She did? Not even the 15 men who are lining up for a DNA test to prove they're the actual father of her child, and not her most recent husband who wasn't an oil billionaire?
All anna-nicole did was fuck, party, then die, screwing up the lives of those she left behind.
She stood up in court and admitted she couildn't even make toast. I'm not glad she's dead, but she was just a waste of a life.
Then there's boor Britters.
Actually, I'm not going to bother. Just look at the picture, that should tell you pretty much what you need to know.
16 February 2007
I'm dyin' here...
Seriously, this void of inactivity is slightly annoying. I should be wrking on the screenplay but I. Just. Can't. get. Fucking. Started. Parental responsibilities will impede me tomorrow as the better Half is off to work. Star wars will babysit for a while, but I still need to pay attention (apparently)
(I kid).
I'm not gonna make any promises about writing soon or all that bollocks. I want to, it's just tricky right now.
(I kid).
I'm not gonna make any promises about writing soon or all that bollocks. I want to, it's just tricky right now.
12 January 2007
Been a tit
Just want to apologise to anyone I pissed off or upset a few months ago. I was in a bad place myself and I vented my spleen, making half-baked statements without being in full posession of the facts.
I might have changed names, but that was a bit pathetic, really. Hopefully, the time I spent away in November/December has chilled me out enough to stop me being a selfish, inconsiderate prick again.
Sorry
I might have changed names, but that was a bit pathetic, really. Hopefully, the time I spent away in November/December has chilled me out enough to stop me being a selfish, inconsiderate prick again.
Sorry
31 December 2006
Moving Rooms
My dear, dear Friend Mike, who I've known for many years, and would quite readily allow to use the toilet before me (Mostly true) has moved sites.
Normally, I wouldn't kick up a fuss about such a thing, but as Mike is, quite frankly, the only person who I would trust to, and is the only person who has, published and edited my work, I feel I owe him a duty to point you in his direction.
Oh crap, this means some more html editing. Joy.
http://www.darkenedroom.net/journal/
Go there. Now.
Normally, I wouldn't kick up a fuss about such a thing, but as Mike is, quite frankly, the only person who I would trust to, and is the only person who has, published and edited my work, I feel I owe him a duty to point you in his direction.
Oh crap, this means some more html editing. Joy.
http://www.darkenedroom.net/journal/
Go there. Now.
22 December 2006
Spoiling it for everyone
I suppose it's normally a curse of notoriety, but somehow my tiny little blog has been noticed by the sad no-penised fuckwits that can't even breathe without trying to sell you phentramine or phenylannine or some such shit.
Cos of this I'm gonna have to start moderating comments. If you've posted on Mike's you'll know what it means, but I won't be activating the gestapo-style hard-to-read letter entry field.
('J's' always look like 'i's', it's annoying)
Cos of this I'm gonna have to start moderating comments. If you've posted on Mike's you'll know what it means, but I won't be activating the gestapo-style hard-to-read letter entry field.
('J's' always look like 'i's', it's annoying)
21 December 2006
No, really, I've got a good reason this time
Really, we had a november holiday (nice little cruise) and since we got back we've been decorating (Wallpaper and xmas - first one, then t'other). Once the joyous restivities are over, I'm sure I'll start writing some heavy shit again.
Promise
Promise
11 December 2006
25 November 2006
Cliched nautical heading here..
...Couldn't bring myself to write anything that included the word 'sailing'...
Aneyhoo, off on a cruise for a week and a half, so I'll be net-inaccessible until the 7th (unless I find a cyber-cafe in Casablanca), but it also means I'll be without access to a word processor of any kind, so it'll be back to pen & paper.
Weird, but as I've got faster at typing, i've found the flow of ideas as each story develops seems to be running at the same wpm. Wether or not having to actually write stuff down improves my story-telling, will remain to be seen.
Knowing my luck, i'll just end up with 5 crap stories and writer's cramp.
Aneyhoo, off on a cruise for a week and a half, so I'll be net-inaccessible until the 7th (unless I find a cyber-cafe in Casablanca), but it also means I'll be without access to a word processor of any kind, so it'll be back to pen & paper.
Weird, but as I've got faster at typing, i've found the flow of ideas as each story develops seems to be running at the same wpm. Wether or not having to actually write stuff down improves my story-telling, will remain to be seen.
Knowing my luck, i'll just end up with 5 crap stories and writer's cramp.
19 November 2006
Heart-Shaped Face
Thanks to Jammie for the words that got this one started
Heart-shaped face, Lift, Skeleton key, Parcel
“Look, I’ll be back in the evening, ok?” Luke held his wife reassuringly by the shoulders, then drew her into a comforting hug. “Look at it this way, you’ll have plenty of time to get familiar with the place; assign rooms, that kinda thing”.
“Yeah, I know. It’s just so… I dunno.. Big” Luke rolled his eyes.
“And you’re the one who always wanted a bigger kitchen” Rachel gave him a look.
“The kitchen in this place could cater for a fucking hotel, Luke” He smiled and hugged her again, kissed her heavily and set off down the path to his shiny new car.
“At least you can’t say the freezer isn’t big enough anymore”. He opened the door and threw his briefcase into the passenger seat.
“That ’Freezer’ is bigger than our old bedroom”. The engine burst into life with a throaty rumble as her husband smiled and waved genially as he crunched the gears into place and kangaroo-hopped out of the driveway.
‘At least he didn’t pay for the bloody thing’ Rachel mused as the sun glinted off the silver prancing horse on the back of the car as it turned the corner and out of sight. She could still hear it as she glanced over at her much more sensible Beetle in the driveway. Maybe the full package, including in-car DVD player and personalised number plates was a bit much, but at least she wasn’t paying.
She closed the heavy oak door and turned to the hallway. She couldn’t stop the grin possessing her face and the exultant scream that followed. In 3 short weeks, her husband had been head-hunted and promoted beyond their wildest dreams, and shortly relocated this this Fucking HUGE house in the middle of the Oxfordshire countryside.
The estate agent had shown them round, but the sheer size of the place was all they needed to say yes. The eager young agent had stammered over his pre-prepared speech, but she’d bought the place with the company’s money the second the limo crunched over gravel through the automatic gates. All she’d been used to before this was a council flat in a shitty area, part of the many sacrifices they’d made (she more than he) to fund Luke’s ambitions. Her patience had been running thin, but it was working. His slow steps up the executive ladder was giving them a comfortable life, they’d even started going out again.
She picked up the elaborately designed folder containing all the information on the house from the table by the door, along with her coffee and strolled into her spacious kitchen. It really could have catered for a hotel, well, a small one anyway, but it was still bigger than your nearest Starbucks, deep blue-tiled walls, stainless steel tables and a walk-in freezer that was indeed larger than her old bedroom. It was absolutely barren at the moment, but the company had told them that they had a blank cheque to furbish the house, so she should have it up and running in about.. Ooh, a month. She set the folder down on the bare central food preparation table and started to read.
“So, how’s the house?” Rick was smiling that smile again. All teeth, no content. Luke returned it.
“Oh, it’s fantastic, Rachel absolutely loves it” He shook Rick’s proffered hand, feeling the intentionally domineering grip and totally bone dry palm as it gently crunched his knuckles.
“Good-good, good to hear it” Luke hated that expression. He’d only heard it from people with nothing on their minds but their own self-promotion. He’d used it himself once and hated himself for doing so. “Your office is just along here, it’s got everything you’ll need to fulfil your position, and if you need anything, Hillary here will be at your beck and call“. A middle-aged, stern looking woman with her blonde hair in a tight bun looked up at him, acknowledged his existence without smiling and returned to her monitor.
Rick walked him into the office, it took Luke a second before he realised what he was looking at.
“We’ve completely duplicated your old office, it helps our new guys start work faster if they know where everything is”. He wasn’t kidding either, everything, from the positioning of the waste-paper basket (just the right distance for a well-aimed apple core or bullshit memo) to the framed inspirational posters that he never actually liked anyway. Ok, I’ll give you about an hour to get settled, then I’ll come back to see how you’re doing, ok dude?” He gave a hearty thumbs-up, which Luke returned, his insides cringing. Left alone, Luke looked around his familiar relocated office space. He hated the last job, so bringing everything that reminded him of it didn’t fill him with a sense of optimism.
“Ok mum, love you. Bye!” She’d had to call and tell her mother as much as she could about the house. She’d invited her over for dinner next week, should be enough time to get the kitchen up and running at least. Rachel pocketed her mobile and flicked through the folder as she travelled through the house
‘The master bedroom, approximately 400 square feet of floor space, with high walls and faux-baroque stylings throughout’. . Every room was carpeted & curtained, but lacked furniture. Smiling, she closed the door behind her and headed down the hallway towards the master bathroom. Passing a door on her left, she tried the handle, it was locked. Weird, she thought. Flicking through the folder, she found the floor plans. The door wasn’t on it, it just showed the last room she’d been in and the master bathroom directly beside it. ‘Must be a cupboard’, although she couldn’t help but think it was a little strange that the plans for a 100-year old house would miss something like a cupboard. Walking into the bathroom she looked into the corner of the room where the door was, and sure enough, there were 2 extra walls in the corner, indicating the cupboard space behind. The bathroom itself was fully fitted, with a legged bath in the middle of the tiled floor. It was huge, more than enough room for 2 people. She’d have to get some candles, she thought with a smirk. Still the fact the cupboard was locked irked her a little, and she pulled her mobile phone out of her pocket, searching through the contact lists for the estate agent’s number.
“Hi, it’s Rachel Anderson here, yes hello. Look, I’ve just had a look around the house and I’ve found a door that seems to be locked… no, it’s lovely, it’s wonderful, really. Yes, it seems to be a cupboard on the second floor… Where? Ok, hang on.” She trotted down the stairs and into the kitchen. “Which drawer? By the sink…” She opened the drawer and found a small silver key. “Yes, I’ve got it, thanks Harry.” She pressed a few keys on her phone and placed it on the table. She looked at the key, it looked new, and had a small engraving of a skull on one side. Creepy, but apt for a skeleton key, she supposed.
She returned to the upper floor and headed to the door. The key slid neatly into the lock and turned. When she opened the door, it wasn’t a cupboard behind it, but brightly lit, ornate panelling on the walls. She stepped inside and turned. Beside the door were 2 buttons, the top one was lit.
“It’s a lift!” She racked her brains to try and remember if the space taken up by a lift shaft had taken up any floor space below, as it had done in the bathroom. Nope, she couldn’t remember, and was just about to walk out of the lift when the outer door closed abruptly. As she jumped back in shock another internal door slid into place and the lift shuddered. The other button lit with a ‘ding’ and the lift slowly started to descend. In the kitchen, her mobile started to vibrate wildly as it blasted out a polyphonic version of ‘Money, Money, Money’ by Abba..
“Luke! How are you settling in?” Rick entered the room, closely followed by another inanely-grinning suited colleague. “This is Chad, hope you don’t mind his sitting in on our little chinwag” Luke hung up the phone, he’d have to hope Rachel got his message soon.
“No, not at all” He beckoned them to sit down, even though Chad already had.
“So, Luke, let’s get down to it. We wanted you because you, individually, made your company over three million pounds last yeas”. Luke squirmed slightly.
“Yes, well, a lot of it was luck, you know. I just happened to be invited to the Sapperstein’s daughter’s wedding through a colleague and…” Rick held up a hand.
“Luke, Luke. There were several people at that wedding, but not one of them could network like you. You saw the opportunity, and you grabbed it with both hands. You’re the kind of guy we want here. I won’t lie, we’re expecting the same kind of numbers, if not more, for us. Can you deliver that, Luke?” His face was pseudo-friendly, but his tone had an element Luke didn’t like.
“Well, I can’t make any promises, like I said, those contracts were sort of a fluke, but I’ll do my best while I’m here”. Rick sat up straight, then sat back in his chair. Chad stopped looking at the picture of the Cheetah over the word ‘Ambition’ and begun to pay attention to the conversation.
“ ‘While you’re here?’ what do you mean by that, Luke?” The room had got suddenly colder.
“Well, what I meant was, I.. I’ll probably move on, eventually. It's not that I’m not grateful for all you’ve done for Rachel and me, on the contrary, the house is fantastic”. He missed the smile that flashed across Chad’s face. “But what with the generous wage you’re paying me, plus the incredible commission rates you pay, I could probably retire within the next ten years!” He smiled broadly at them, but their faces remained impassive. “I mean, you guys must be thinking along the same lines, right?”
Chad sat up.
“Did you read the contract you signed with us, Luke?” An empty pit opened in his stomach
“I.. flicked though it, I thought they were all the same?”
“Did you read the section on the non-disclosure agreement?” Chad reached into his inside jacket pocket and pulled out a tube of rolled-up paper.
“I read some of it. I signed one at my last place, they’re pretty much the same.” Chad placed the tube on the desk, where it unfurled. Luke could see his signature at the bottom.
“Take another read. Under the non-disclosure section”. Luke took the contract and started to read.
“Yeah, it looks standard. It says as long as I’m employed by the company, I’m not allowed to divulge any internal information with outside companies”.
“No, it doesn’t”
“What? Yes it does”
“Read it to me” sweating slightly, he scanned the page again.
“‘As long as the contracted employee is within the employ of the company, neither he nor any spouse or children shall divulge any information pertaining to the company, sensitive or otherwise, to anyone outside the company, for any reason.’” He looked up. “And?” Rick sighed theatrically.
“Let’s go for a drive”.
Puzzled, Luke stood up and walked around his desk and out into the hallway. His heart pumping and his mind racing. As he walked, he could see into the other offices along the corridor, every person he saw looked thoroughly miserable, working without smiling, and every desk had a large, flat red box beside the in-trays. He swore he even heard a sob coming from one office.
“We’ll take the company limo. Give us a chance to explain things… in simple terms”. They entered the parking garage, the Limo gleaming under the fluorescent lighting. Looking to his left, he could see his Ferrari in his private parking space. Should he make a run for it? Where would he go but home? He sunk slightly and ducked his head as he sat in the plush leather seats. The other two sat down as well, facing him.
“We’ll take the company limo. Give us a chance to explain things… in simple terms”. They entered the parking garage, the Limo gleaming under the fluorescent lighting. Looking to his left, he could see his Ferrari in his private parking space. Should he make a run for it? Where would he go but home? He sunk slightly and ducked his head as he sat in the plush leather seats. The other two sat down as well, facing him.
“Well, Luke. It looks like there’s several things about this company you should be made aware of. We brought you in for your sales prowess, but do you know what the company actually does?”
Luke thought hard. “It’s medical research and private healthcare”. Chad grinned.
“And you never thought that was a strange combination? Sounds innocent enough, I know, but think about it…”
The Limo crunched over the gravel in the drive and stopped outside the front door. The driver opened his door and Luke exited slowly. He was pale, having vomited twice. They’d told him far more than he’d wanted to know, and he had no idea what awaited him as he opened his heavy oak door.
He stood in the door frame.
“Rachel?” He looked down to a large flat, red parcel on the table beside the door. Looking up to the sound of shuffling feet, he saw his wife walking out of the kitchen, her long red hair covering her face. “Rachel?” His wife raised her head, there was no face, just a flat covering of skin on the front of her head. There was a piece of equipment attached to her neck which made hoarse breathing sounds. Paralyzed by horror, he came to his senses when he felt a hand on his shoulder.
“She’s fine, don’t worry. Unfortunately, she broke the terms of your contract not long after you left the house this morning. Had a revealing conversation with her mother, told her where the house was, how much money you’re earning. Even invited her Mother over for dinner. We can’t have that, not when national security’s at stake”. Luke felt like vomiting again.
“But her face… why?” Chad patted him on his other shoulder.
“One thing we’ve learned in our 50-year history, is that once a woman starts talking, it’s a hard habit to break.”
“But she’s never read my contract, how the fuck was she supposed to know what not to do?”
“And whos fault is that?” He smiled that fucking smile again. Look, she’s fine. She can still see, kind of. She’ll need protein injections once a day, which the company will provide free of charge, but she’ll be a willing housewife, cooking, cleaning… servicing… everything a good wife should be”.
“But her face….” tears were streaming down his face.
“Oh, yeah. Here you go…” He casually tossed the red parcel to him. Gingerly he opened it. There, attached to small pieces of machinery and several blood-filled tubes, was his wife’s heart-shaped face. Her eyes darting from side to side in horror until they fell on her husband’s face. Her mouth moved quickly and silently as Luke sank to his knees. Chad crouched down beside him and looked at the terrified face in the box with a sickeningly kind smile.
“Funny, they all try to talk, you know.” He stood up. Rachel was now standing beside her husband, showing no sign she knew he was there. “Well, we’ll be off, we’ll have your car brought over. Wouldn’t have gone with yellow myself, but there you go, each to their own.” They both started to leave, Rick stopped and turned to him.
“Have a 4-day weekend, Luke, I think you’ll need some time to get adjusted. But hey, look on the bright side, now you can bring your wife to work. Everyone else does.”
13 November 2006
Non-Specific plaugeurism
Yes, i know that's spelt wrong. Anyhoo, took this from Mike's, who in turn nicked it from Chris'
DO YOU SNORE? Apparently, yes. I have been known to wake myself up
ARE YOU A LOVER OR A FIGHTER?A lover, never been in a fight
WHAT’S YOUR WORST FEAR? Losing my loves
AS A KID, WERE YOU A LEGO MANIAC? Absolutely. I was a whiz, I once made a spaceship that was actually 20 ships all joined together. It rocked. Only you couldn't pick it up or it would fall apart.
WHAT DO YOU THINK OF “REALITY” TV? Pointless voyeurism that foists useless morons on the world, who in turn are lapped up by their ilk
DO YOU CHEW ON YOUR STRAWS? Can't says I do
WERE YOU A CUTE BABY? If my son is anything to go by, then I was GORGEOUS
IS THE SINGLE LIFE FOR YOU? Was, till I met the person who ended all that nonsense
WHAT COLOR IS YOUR KEYBOARD?Black.
DO YOU SING IN THE SHOWER? I don't sing. Court order.
HAVE YOU EVER BUNGEE JUMPED? Seen wayyyy too many wacky home videos to even contemplate the idea
ANY SECRET TALENTS? Now, if I told you, they wouldn't be secret...
WHAT’S YOUR IDEAL VACATION SPOT? Anywhere but here
CAN YOU SWIM? In bursts
HAVE YOU SEEN THE MOVIE DONNIE DARKO? Yup, and it was the lager that made me cry at the fat chick dancing
DO YOU GIVE A DAMN ABOUT THE OZONE? I've been told I have to
HOW MANY LICKS DOES IT TAKE TO GET TO THE CENTER OF A TOOTSIE POP? Wouldn't know, first time I tasted one I nearly threw up
CAN YOU SING THE ALPHABET BACKWARDS? Nope, but I can say it backwards in less than 3 seconds
DO YOU PREFER ELECTRIC OR MANUAL PENCIL SHARPENER? Pencils?
WHAT’S YOUR STAND ON HUNTING? I'd like to stand on the necks of anyone who kills ANYTHING for 'sport', not necessity
IS MARRIAGE IN YOUR FUTURE? In the past, actually
DO YOU LIKE YOUR HANDWRITING? Certainly do, I seem to be only one who can read it...
WHAT ARE YOU ALLERGIC TO? Radion Automatic
WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU SAID, “I LOVE YOU” ? Just now, actually
DO YOU CRY AT WEDDINGS? Nope. Not even my own.
HOW DO YOU LIKE YOUR EGGS? Unfertilised, thanks.... Har-de-har. But as you're asking. In an omlette with cheese & Frankfurters
ARE BLONDES DUMB? Depends on the blonde. I've met some pretty thick brunettes in my time
WHERE DOES THE OTHER SOCK END UP? Eaten by the laundromat monster
WHAT TIME IS IT? 20:50
DO YOU HAVE A NICKNAME? Yup, and sadly enough, it's self-imposed.
IS MCDONALD’S DISGUSTING? In every way
WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU WERE IN A CAR? 17:15
DO YOU PREFER BATHS OR SHOWERS? Baths.
IS SANTA CLAUS REAL? As real as you want him to be
DO YOU LIKE TO HAVE YOUR NECK KISSED? ummmm... no
ARE YOU AFRAID OF THE DARK? Used to be. mainly because of a terrorizing older brother
WHAT ARE YOU ADDICTED TO? Peanut Butter Kit-Kat Chunkies
CRUNCHY OR CREAMY PEANUT BUTTER? Crunchy.
CAN YOU CRACK YOUR NECK? Sometimes, but I have to crack my thumbs when I get up in the morning. And the tip of my right middle finger. And my right ankle cracks incredibly loudly whenever I take my foot off the gas
HAVE YOU EVER RIDDEN IN AN AMBULANCE? No. actually
IS DRUG FREE THE WAY TO BE? I've inhaled in the past. can't say it changed my life in any way.
ARE YOU A HEAVY SLEEPER? Used to be. i once slept through a patio window being put into the wall directly below my bedroom
WHAT COLOR ARE YOUR EYES? Green with brown bits
DO YOU LIKE YOUR LIFE? Some more cash would be nice, but I'm good.
ARE YOU PSYCHIC? Not specifically, but I've had moments
HAVE YOU READ CATCHER IN THE RYE? Nope
DO YOU PLAY ANY INSTRUMENTS? Steering Wheel Bongoes
HAVE YOU EVER STOLEN MONEY? 10p, when I was 8
CAN YOU SNOWBOARD? No idea, the opportunity hasn't arisen
DO YOU LIKE CAMPING? I love being outdoors, but as long as I'm warm and dry. Haven't actually camped yet, but i have a young son and I live in the country, so It's probably on the cards at some stage
DO YOU SNORT WHEN YOU LAUGH? Depends on what caused the laugh.
DO YOU BELIEVE IN MAGIC? Real magic? No. Haven't seen a trick I didn't figure out yet
ARE DOGS A MAN’S BEST FRIEND? Depends on the dog
YOU BELIEVE IN DIVORCE? When necessary.
CAN YOU DO THE MOONWALK? Only without an audience
DO YOU MAKE A LOT OF MISTAKES? Not if I take my time
IS IT COLD OUTSIDE TODAY? Fokking freezing, and it's no fun standing on the footplate beside my crane at the top of medway hill in 40mph winds, lemme tell ya
WHAT WAS THE LAST THING YOU ATE? Bourbons dunked in tea
DO YOU WEAR NAIL POLISH? Never have
HOW MANY PEOPLE DO YOU LIKE RIGHT NOW? These posts have a word limit right now. It would probably be easier to say who i don't like, but i'm not gonna
WHAT’S THE MOST ANNOYING TV COMMERCIAL? Was the Frosties one, but the internet rumour mill gave that one too much notoriety
DO YOU SHOP AT T K MAXX? Oh god no
FAVORITE SONG AT THE MOMENT? Hoppipolla by Sigur Ros. Old, yes, but still my current fave
DO YOU SNORE? Apparently, yes. I have been known to wake myself up
ARE YOU A LOVER OR A FIGHTER?A lover, never been in a fight
WHAT’S YOUR WORST FEAR? Losing my loves
AS A KID, WERE YOU A LEGO MANIAC? Absolutely. I was a whiz, I once made a spaceship that was actually 20 ships all joined together. It rocked. Only you couldn't pick it up or it would fall apart.
WHAT DO YOU THINK OF “REALITY” TV? Pointless voyeurism that foists useless morons on the world, who in turn are lapped up by their ilk
DO YOU CHEW ON YOUR STRAWS? Can't says I do
WERE YOU A CUTE BABY? If my son is anything to go by, then I was GORGEOUS
IS THE SINGLE LIFE FOR YOU? Was, till I met the person who ended all that nonsense
WHAT COLOR IS YOUR KEYBOARD?Black.
DO YOU SING IN THE SHOWER? I don't sing. Court order.
HAVE YOU EVER BUNGEE JUMPED? Seen wayyyy too many wacky home videos to even contemplate the idea
ANY SECRET TALENTS? Now, if I told you, they wouldn't be secret...
WHAT’S YOUR IDEAL VACATION SPOT? Anywhere but here
CAN YOU SWIM? In bursts
HAVE YOU SEEN THE MOVIE DONNIE DARKO? Yup, and it was the lager that made me cry at the fat chick dancing
DO YOU GIVE A DAMN ABOUT THE OZONE? I've been told I have to
HOW MANY LICKS DOES IT TAKE TO GET TO THE CENTER OF A TOOTSIE POP? Wouldn't know, first time I tasted one I nearly threw up
CAN YOU SING THE ALPHABET BACKWARDS? Nope, but I can say it backwards in less than 3 seconds
DO YOU PREFER ELECTRIC OR MANUAL PENCIL SHARPENER? Pencils?
WHAT’S YOUR STAND ON HUNTING? I'd like to stand on the necks of anyone who kills ANYTHING for 'sport', not necessity
IS MARRIAGE IN YOUR FUTURE? In the past, actually
DO YOU LIKE YOUR HANDWRITING? Certainly do, I seem to be only one who can read it...
WHAT ARE YOU ALLERGIC TO? Radion Automatic
WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU SAID, “I LOVE YOU” ? Just now, actually
DO YOU CRY AT WEDDINGS? Nope. Not even my own.
HOW DO YOU LIKE YOUR EGGS? Unfertilised, thanks.... Har-de-har. But as you're asking. In an omlette with cheese & Frankfurters
ARE BLONDES DUMB? Depends on the blonde. I've met some pretty thick brunettes in my time
WHERE DOES THE OTHER SOCK END UP? Eaten by the laundromat monster
WHAT TIME IS IT? 20:50
DO YOU HAVE A NICKNAME? Yup, and sadly enough, it's self-imposed.
IS MCDONALD’S DISGUSTING? In every way
WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU WERE IN A CAR? 17:15
DO YOU PREFER BATHS OR SHOWERS? Baths.
IS SANTA CLAUS REAL? As real as you want him to be
DO YOU LIKE TO HAVE YOUR NECK KISSED? ummmm... no
ARE YOU AFRAID OF THE DARK? Used to be. mainly because of a terrorizing older brother
WHAT ARE YOU ADDICTED TO? Peanut Butter Kit-Kat Chunkies
CRUNCHY OR CREAMY PEANUT BUTTER? Crunchy.
CAN YOU CRACK YOUR NECK? Sometimes, but I have to crack my thumbs when I get up in the morning. And the tip of my right middle finger. And my right ankle cracks incredibly loudly whenever I take my foot off the gas
HAVE YOU EVER RIDDEN IN AN AMBULANCE? No. actually
IS DRUG FREE THE WAY TO BE? I've inhaled in the past. can't say it changed my life in any way.
ARE YOU A HEAVY SLEEPER? Used to be. i once slept through a patio window being put into the wall directly below my bedroom
WHAT COLOR ARE YOUR EYES? Green with brown bits
DO YOU LIKE YOUR LIFE? Some more cash would be nice, but I'm good.
ARE YOU PSYCHIC? Not specifically, but I've had moments
HAVE YOU READ CATCHER IN THE RYE? Nope
DO YOU PLAY ANY INSTRUMENTS? Steering Wheel Bongoes
HAVE YOU EVER STOLEN MONEY? 10p, when I was 8
CAN YOU SNOWBOARD? No idea, the opportunity hasn't arisen
DO YOU LIKE CAMPING? I love being outdoors, but as long as I'm warm and dry. Haven't actually camped yet, but i have a young son and I live in the country, so It's probably on the cards at some stage
DO YOU SNORT WHEN YOU LAUGH? Depends on what caused the laugh.
DO YOU BELIEVE IN MAGIC? Real magic? No. Haven't seen a trick I didn't figure out yet
ARE DOGS A MAN’S BEST FRIEND? Depends on the dog
YOU BELIEVE IN DIVORCE? When necessary.
CAN YOU DO THE MOONWALK? Only without an audience
DO YOU MAKE A LOT OF MISTAKES? Not if I take my time
IS IT COLD OUTSIDE TODAY? Fokking freezing, and it's no fun standing on the footplate beside my crane at the top of medway hill in 40mph winds, lemme tell ya
WHAT WAS THE LAST THING YOU ATE? Bourbons dunked in tea
DO YOU WEAR NAIL POLISH? Never have
HOW MANY PEOPLE DO YOU LIKE RIGHT NOW? These posts have a word limit right now. It would probably be easier to say who i don't like, but i'm not gonna
WHAT’S THE MOST ANNOYING TV COMMERCIAL? Was the Frosties one, but the internet rumour mill gave that one too much notoriety
DO YOU SHOP AT T K MAXX? Oh god no
FAVORITE SONG AT THE MOMENT? Hoppipolla by Sigur Ros. Old, yes, but still my current fave
05 November 2006
In desperate need of inspiration
You'll notice I haven't updated in a while. There's a few reasons for this, all tedious and boring to everyone that isn't me.
I've got a full head at the moment. as I was discussing with Jammie earlier, I'm not currently getting any down time with which I can let my mind wander, which is what happened with 'Bleeding'. (The actual blood-letting from the finger helped , but Mike & Jenn's inspiration to write Green Fingers got some kind of juices flowing)
So, here's the thing. In no way am I trying to start The Curve ball off my own back, but I'd like some sparks thrown my way. In the form of 4 nouns.
Just 4. Any 4 in any order, and I'll try to get a half-decent. 500-ish-word story out of it.
But, please. Make them kinda interesting. "Apple, paperclip, biscuit, Library" isn't going to make good reading.
I've got a full head at the moment. as I was discussing with Jammie earlier, I'm not currently getting any down time with which I can let my mind wander, which is what happened with 'Bleeding'. (The actual blood-letting from the finger helped , but Mike & Jenn's inspiration to write Green Fingers got some kind of juices flowing)
So, here's the thing. In no way am I trying to start The Curve ball off my own back, but I'd like some sparks thrown my way. In the form of 4 nouns.
Just 4. Any 4 in any order, and I'll try to get a half-decent. 500-ish-word story out of it.
But, please. Make them kinda interesting. "Apple, paperclip, biscuit, Library" isn't going to make good reading.
25 October 2006
On Hiatus
Not updated in a while, I know. Truth is, creative juices are pretty much non-existant right now. Too bloody tired for one thing. Oh, and I've lost my voice, so that probably explains some of it
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