Gertrude Henkel
03-27-2013, 08:40 PM
Veganism Made Easy or
The Benefits and Pitfalls of Chromosomal Abnormality in Church Mice.
It was another dull, overcast day in the sleepy little village of Spakwenzel and Alex had just awoke in his small mid-terraced house on an unnamed cobble side street. He prepared his mid-afternoon breakfast of last night's pizza crust and jam and finished off the milk that had been sitting on the kitchen counter for most of the previous week. The lumps almost made him retch, but he had grown accustomed to imbibing his milk in this fashion, he was unable to afford fresh, but the nice man at the corner shop let him have the expired stuff at a 10% discount and he could make a pint and a half last almost two weeks if he watered it down. Unfortunately his water had been cut off several months previous and he had been reduced to collecting rainwater in a bucket set outside on the patio which was fine after he had picked most of the visible bits of twig and dead insect out of it.
Today should have been a happy day for Alex, as it was the day his unemployment cheque was tendered to his account, but Alex was beside himself. Rumour had it that his character would be killed off very early in the storyline as a plot device to drive the narrative forward, but rumour had also just had quite a hearty lunch so wasn't really in the mood to spread like a figurative wildfire, at least not until it had finished its wine, had a coffee and that little minty chocolate and possibly a nap, this at least bought Alex some time.
Alex wasn't exactly overjoyed with the notion that he was just an expendable background character from another (hilarious) book by the same author which is available right now from all good bookshops, this was not a situation that Alex was comfortable with at all.
“I'm not very comfortable with this situation.” he remarked to his trusty sandwich toaster and he donned his lucky red shirt and set off on his very first away mission to save himself from being exterminated in the name of drama.
Outside the air was damp and cold, a foreign world to Alex as he had barely left the house in the last three years. With the economy failing so badly he was worried that the stock market might crash somewhere around Chichester or that gold prices would come tumbling down onto his unprotected head. He had heard somewhere that the the Dow Jones was up, but what it was up to he couldn't be sure and he pondered his situation. Deep in thought, wondering where the hell he should begin in his quest to save his fictional skin, he stumbled and almost fell into an illogical plot hole that had suddenly appeared in his path, he realised he needed to keep his wits about him and take every precaution possible to avoid an untimely confrontation with a deadly plot twist. Alex verbalised his reasoning to the sandwich toaster, Vince, which he had brought along as a travelling companion despite not knowing where he was travelling too or indeed if they would have compatible electrical sockets when he got there.
It began to rain, at first lightly, but soon it was a torrential downpour and Alex was soaking wet through when he happened upon a quaint little café he had never seen before. He went in, if only to escape the rain and found himself a table in a quiet corner, hoping no-one had seen him enter as he hadn't any change with which to make a purchase and he felt a bit guilty about that.
Meanwhile, many, many miles away, stood a crumbling castle atop a mountain towering over a small eastern European village which seemed perpetually shrouded in dark, gloomy, atmospheric clouds. The sky peppered with the occasional flash of a strobe light and the distant rumble of a foley artist wobbling a copper sheet. In a dark room of the castle, lit only by candlelight and draped in far too much fake cobweb by an art department intern, sits an author. Malformed and twisted from many years of laziness and procrastination when he knew he should be working. Hunched over a stack of papers with his spindly fingers hatefully scratching the words of his latest manuscript. The strobe flashes, the copper wobbles and the author cackles manically as the music swells up to a crescendo in a dissonant, droning minor chord.
Back in the café, Alex was having a hard time trying not to catch the eye of the girl behind the counter, although throwing it in his direction was probably a not-so-subtle hint that he should make a purchase or leave and it probably wasn't hygienic for her to be taking it out like that anyway. He got up from his seat, scooped up Vince and headed back out into the rainstorm.
It was outside that he noticed a man across the street haphazardly hammering planks of wood together in a fashion Alex had never before seen. He went over and watched for a few minutes before asking the man what he was doing.
“What are you doing?”
“Building an arc.” came a rather gruff reply.
“Oh, you mean an ark.” Alex corrected him.
“No, I know what I meant,” said the man. “Have you not noticed the rain.”
“I have.” Said Alex. “But it only started raining about an hour ago, why do you need to build an ark?”
“I told you, it's an arc. God came to me in a dream last night and told me I must have a story arc. Nice sandwich toaster by the way.”
“Yeah, he's my travelling companion, I’m Alex.”
“Alex, eh? You don't happen to have an STD?”
“That's a rather personal question, don't you think?”
“Well, it's just that God also told me, I would meet a traveller called Alex with an STD called Vince.”
“My sandwich toaster is called Vince.”
“Oh, never mind, this is just one of those weird coincidences, I guess.”
“I suppose.” said Alex, and wandered off into the rain.
After a few miles of walking down the country lanes that surrounded his little village, Alex stopped for a bit of sit down sheltering from the rain underneath a large oak tree. He set Vince down on the ground next to him and noticed the manufacturer's label for the first time. It read; Sandwich Toaster Deluxe.
“S.T.D!” cried Alex at the top of his lungs, “I have an STD!”
A man walking his dog down the lane tried to avoid Alex, but was unable to.
“I have an STD, I'm the chosen one.”
And Alex ran back to the village, back to the man making the arc, running as fast as his legs would carry him. He was almost there almost back at the village when he tripped on Vince's power cable. He fell onto the tarmac with a thud and knocked himself out on an inconveniently placed rock.
Lying face down, unconscious, in a muddy puddle. It wasn't long before Alex, the potential saviour of all mankind, drowned.
Fin..
The Benefits and Pitfalls of Chromosomal Abnormality in Church Mice.
It was another dull, overcast day in the sleepy little village of Spakwenzel and Alex had just awoke in his small mid-terraced house on an unnamed cobble side street. He prepared his mid-afternoon breakfast of last night's pizza crust and jam and finished off the milk that had been sitting on the kitchen counter for most of the previous week. The lumps almost made him retch, but he had grown accustomed to imbibing his milk in this fashion, he was unable to afford fresh, but the nice man at the corner shop let him have the expired stuff at a 10% discount and he could make a pint and a half last almost two weeks if he watered it down. Unfortunately his water had been cut off several months previous and he had been reduced to collecting rainwater in a bucket set outside on the patio which was fine after he had picked most of the visible bits of twig and dead insect out of it.
Today should have been a happy day for Alex, as it was the day his unemployment cheque was tendered to his account, but Alex was beside himself. Rumour had it that his character would be killed off very early in the storyline as a plot device to drive the narrative forward, but rumour had also just had quite a hearty lunch so wasn't really in the mood to spread like a figurative wildfire, at least not until it had finished its wine, had a coffee and that little minty chocolate and possibly a nap, this at least bought Alex some time.
Alex wasn't exactly overjoyed with the notion that he was just an expendable background character from another (hilarious) book by the same author which is available right now from all good bookshops, this was not a situation that Alex was comfortable with at all.
“I'm not very comfortable with this situation.” he remarked to his trusty sandwich toaster and he donned his lucky red shirt and set off on his very first away mission to save himself from being exterminated in the name of drama.
Outside the air was damp and cold, a foreign world to Alex as he had barely left the house in the last three years. With the economy failing so badly he was worried that the stock market might crash somewhere around Chichester or that gold prices would come tumbling down onto his unprotected head. He had heard somewhere that the the Dow Jones was up, but what it was up to he couldn't be sure and he pondered his situation. Deep in thought, wondering where the hell he should begin in his quest to save his fictional skin, he stumbled and almost fell into an illogical plot hole that had suddenly appeared in his path, he realised he needed to keep his wits about him and take every precaution possible to avoid an untimely confrontation with a deadly plot twist. Alex verbalised his reasoning to the sandwich toaster, Vince, which he had brought along as a travelling companion despite not knowing where he was travelling too or indeed if they would have compatible electrical sockets when he got there.
It began to rain, at first lightly, but soon it was a torrential downpour and Alex was soaking wet through when he happened upon a quaint little café he had never seen before. He went in, if only to escape the rain and found himself a table in a quiet corner, hoping no-one had seen him enter as he hadn't any change with which to make a purchase and he felt a bit guilty about that.
Meanwhile, many, many miles away, stood a crumbling castle atop a mountain towering over a small eastern European village which seemed perpetually shrouded in dark, gloomy, atmospheric clouds. The sky peppered with the occasional flash of a strobe light and the distant rumble of a foley artist wobbling a copper sheet. In a dark room of the castle, lit only by candlelight and draped in far too much fake cobweb by an art department intern, sits an author. Malformed and twisted from many years of laziness and procrastination when he knew he should be working. Hunched over a stack of papers with his spindly fingers hatefully scratching the words of his latest manuscript. The strobe flashes, the copper wobbles and the author cackles manically as the music swells up to a crescendo in a dissonant, droning minor chord.
Back in the café, Alex was having a hard time trying not to catch the eye of the girl behind the counter, although throwing it in his direction was probably a not-so-subtle hint that he should make a purchase or leave and it probably wasn't hygienic for her to be taking it out like that anyway. He got up from his seat, scooped up Vince and headed back out into the rainstorm.
It was outside that he noticed a man across the street haphazardly hammering planks of wood together in a fashion Alex had never before seen. He went over and watched for a few minutes before asking the man what he was doing.
“What are you doing?”
“Building an arc.” came a rather gruff reply.
“Oh, you mean an ark.” Alex corrected him.
“No, I know what I meant,” said the man. “Have you not noticed the rain.”
“I have.” Said Alex. “But it only started raining about an hour ago, why do you need to build an ark?”
“I told you, it's an arc. God came to me in a dream last night and told me I must have a story arc. Nice sandwich toaster by the way.”
“Yeah, he's my travelling companion, I’m Alex.”
“Alex, eh? You don't happen to have an STD?”
“That's a rather personal question, don't you think?”
“Well, it's just that God also told me, I would meet a traveller called Alex with an STD called Vince.”
“My sandwich toaster is called Vince.”
“Oh, never mind, this is just one of those weird coincidences, I guess.”
“I suppose.” said Alex, and wandered off into the rain.
After a few miles of walking down the country lanes that surrounded his little village, Alex stopped for a bit of sit down sheltering from the rain underneath a large oak tree. He set Vince down on the ground next to him and noticed the manufacturer's label for the first time. It read; Sandwich Toaster Deluxe.
“S.T.D!” cried Alex at the top of his lungs, “I have an STD!”
A man walking his dog down the lane tried to avoid Alex, but was unable to.
“I have an STD, I'm the chosen one.”
And Alex ran back to the village, back to the man making the arc, running as fast as his legs would carry him. He was almost there almost back at the village when he tripped on Vince's power cable. He fell onto the tarmac with a thud and knocked himself out on an inconveniently placed rock.
Lying face down, unconscious, in a muddy puddle. It wasn't long before Alex, the potential saviour of all mankind, drowned.
Fin..