By The Walrus
A collection of stories that are, surprisingly enough, pretty new. And often very strange. And other things besides, good buddies, things that I don't intend to go into right now. Enjoy!
“How do I know that this isn't your lair? How do I know you're not an unspeakable carnivorous demon? You certainly look the part."
It was late afternoon and Greasy Joe's was almost empty, so the clutch of lorry drivers sitting at the table under the window that they regarded as their sovereign territory were free to misbehave.
“No dribbling Joe, please. Can I order four coffees? No sugar, just a spot of milk and a sweetener in two of them – us girls have to watch our waistlines.”
Absurdia is a classy play for well-bred audiences. Not suitable for weirdos or thrill seekers.
"The management are test running a revolutionary new assessment process, but it's not a covert psychological test or anyfink like that....."
When it snows ain't it thrillin', though your balls get a chillin', we'll frolic and play the Eskimo way walking in a winter wonderland.
"No, you-fucking-well-can't-have-a-lock-of-my-chest-hair, you-little-perv.....”
"they're gonna whittle my knackers to petit pois with a cheese grater, suck my eyes out and fry me lightly in a garlic and ginger sauce....."
Later on we'll conspire as we cringe by the fire, to face so afraid our plans now unmade, walking in a winter wonderland.
"Me boots are 'eavy, me knickers are tight, me bollocks are swinging from left to right, left, left, left right left.....”
"Please God, if you give a toss, turn back time and make amends for this unforgivable sin."
“'Ello 'ello 'ello, what's all this, then?” a voice said from the cover of the trees to his right, the unexpected intrusion stopping him in his tracks.
“My name is Cold Adelline Cold I live in a yellow submarine in the summer and an igloo in the winter....."
Norton sat in a stony silence for maybe ten or fifteen minutes, but it seemed like hours.
A glowing golden centipede a good four feet long walked into the room through the solid brick wall behind the TV.
If you like the idea of human table lamps and sexually attractive ethnic minority kitchen appliances this is the story for you. Maybe.....
"It was an absolute doddle," you say, "because you've never met a man that you couldn't twist around your little finger?"
A little wind-up tin-plate monkey had rudely been tucked into the waistband of his underpants, and it continued frantically clapping its cymbals together.
Have you got a Facebook account? Hasn't every fucker, you say. As a matter of fact, no, not everyone has a Facebook account.
When I checked out my Facebook account everything was hunky dory, apart from the following outlandish entry.....
No, I reflected hurriedly - the thing's fangs were way too big to belong to any lion. It was a sabre toothed sodding tiger.....
Clarence is the name, Clarence Peculiar Goatsucker at your service - no relation to the Chupacabras, the mysterious Latin American swine. Pleased to meet you, I'm sure.
If that isn't temptation for perverts and rapists and bloody paedophiles, I don't know what is.....
Shit, what is this, a word association test? Pugh, Pugh, Barney, McGrew, Cuthbert, Dibble and Grub – it's neither of those fuckers either, is it?”
"Identify yerselves, or prepare to pay the muther-fuckin' consequences.”
“I'm ecstatic, ectoplasmic, I'm orgasmic-fantastic! I'm a Rockabilly rebel, and I suck out drunken monkey brains.”
“Yes, you – the purty little white boy. Are you deaf, dippy or both? Get your scrawny ass over here, I wanna feast my hungry black eyes on your naked, Caucasian English splendour.”
"If you're about to lose control of your sphincter muscle kindly step outside - I like to keep my hovel as clean as possible under the circumstances."
"If I wasn't here to keep you in line you'd die of malnutrition. Shit, I don't think you'd even remember to take a dump unless I reminded you....."
For almost two years now he had been a member of an online Writers' group called XYZ Tales, and everything changed after he joined that group.....
“You want adventure, you Buffalo faced bastard?” the Storymaker growled. “I'll give you a bloody adventure, you nauseating prick.”
He only kept a single can in the house so that he wouldn't be tempted to cheat, because when it came to alcohol he was as weak as a baby.....
Any minute now Buffalo Mozzarella is going to deliver his coup de grace, after a suitable interval so that he can enjoy the thought of you stewing in your socks, of course.
all your chunky wifey really wants is to hear the dulcet tones of your voice to brighten up her otherwise miserable days, but you're too bloody stupid to realise that.
“Come on, baby!” Gordon encouraged his elderly computer. “You can do it, I know you can - my daughter installed lots of lovely updates for me the last time she was here.”
'Outside is a whole lot worse than inside, so don't even think about trying to escape.....'
My dribble bowl has tremendous sentimental value, and I inherited it from a long line of semi-aquatic fruitcake ancestors. We're all born with magnificent tusks and webbed hands and feet-cum-flippers - before the surgeons tidy us up, that is.
Bucephalus's gas piston driven steel hooves beat out a steady, relentless rhythm as she crossed the rough, rubble strewn wasteland beyond the settlement.
“'Tis a winged steel hoss, harridan,” he replied, “a beautiful Clockwork Steed, your eyes should tell you that."
“Consider it a gift,” Thomekin said. “It's a flying robe, you're one with the birds.....”