|The Sock Puppet That Came In From The Cold (Part 3)
Part 3 of 3: Sally drove her Volkswagen Golf through what had now become a blizzard. Snow fell relentlessly, covering the streets and making visibility downright invisible. To make matters worse, the streets were icy beneath the snow. The small car treated corners as if they were an option, and often skidded into the opposite lane while taking them. “Slow down, can’t you?” said Peter, white-knuckling it in the passenger seat. “We want to get there alive.” “Oh, be quiet. I’ve driven snowmobiles at my folks’ place in the mountains; this is no different. Besides, we’re practically the only car on the road.” “What if you hit a pedestrian?” “This is the West Side. The only people crazy enough to be out in this weather on Christmas Eve on the West Side are hard enough to bounce off.” They swerved dangerously round another corner, barely missing a mailbox. Peter took the hint and closed his eyes. “What does your pendant tell you?” said Sally once they’d straightened out. “We’re getting close. The hostel should be down the next street if I remember rightly.” “Any ideas as to what we do when we get there?” “Beyond putting a stop to Mr.... more...
Published on 12/27/2010
|The Sock Puppet That Came In From The Cold (Part 2)
Part 2 of 3: Elsewhere in the city that night, a party was being held: in the police station of all places. But not everyone attending was filled with Christmas cheer. Officer Peter Gumption had rather more worrisome thoughts on his mind. He sat nursing them limply on the couch. An attractive blonde twenty-something sat on the arm-rest beside him. “You haven’t touched your eggnog, Peter,” said Sally, Peter’s fellow officer and date. “You can have it,” he said, passing her the tumbler. “I want to stay alert. Besides, my stomach …” Sally raised an eyebrow. “You’re not still worried about you-know-who, are you? You’ve done everything you possibly can, and then some. Isn’t having APB’s out at all the sewerage treatment plants enough?” “But the sewer overflows we’ve had—” “Which you’ve only mentioned five times today. You had a look, didn’t you? The bastard’s probably been washed out to sea. Good riddance.” Peter shook his head. “It’s not as simple as that. The sea didn’t stop him the first time.” “Then with any luck he’ll get swallowed by a grouper fish, or meet with some sockthirsty pirates.” Sally thumped Peter in the shoulder and grinned. Peter retained his pensive... more...
Published on 12/27/2010
|The Sock Puppet That Came In From The Cold (Part 1)
Part 1 of 3: It hailed, it sleeted, it raged and blew. Then it rained, and rained some more. It rained until the sewers overflowed. Then, mercifully, Christmas Eve arrived and put its foot down. The wind and its accomplices rolled out, and fog rolled in to wrap the city in its damp embrace. Thousands of relieved people ventured out to do their last-minute shopping. The less-fortunate also ventured out, to do shopping of a different kind. A nameless man shambled through the darkness of a sewer outflow pipe. Once again the tide was out, so to speak, having left rich deposits behind. People with names would sooner not give such ‘treasures’ a first glance, let alone a second. But our nameless man wandered among them like a child at the seashore after a storm has littered it with beautiful shells and the strange blobby remnants of unfortunate sea-creatures. Each new find felt the gaze of expectancy from his glazed, bulging eyeballs. The odd item shrank back from a scowl, received a swift kick from a shabby old boot. The luckier pieces of flotsam were scooped up with glee in a grime-smeared, bony hand, and stuffed into the deep, damp... more...
Published on 12/27/2010
|The Relentlessly Unpleasant Skit Show Presents:
An early twenties MICHAEL J. STAPLETON is sitting Indian style on the floor. He is drinking a 40oz bottle of prune juice and is snorting lines of metemucil on a mirror. He has on a striped shirt with an alligator on the breast, Addias running pants and Addias shell toe sneakers. He is watching a mid-80s style Magnavox T.V. He is sitting on the floor because the 1950s style furniture is covered in plastic. There are antique pictures on the wall and the house reeks of mothballs more...
Published on 11/24/2010
|“The New Job” by Rance Treakle
[A Halloween Special from the 2003 Archives] I thought the devil was red and had a tail. I had braced myself for His appearance, His style, even His odor if need be. So what happens when I call Him? He shows up at my door in a three-piece suit, looking like a successful businessman. OK, I want to do business. That’ll work. To tell the truth, I’m not a firm believer in the hereafter. I figure when you’re gone you’re gone. So even if He got my “soul” I wouldn’t know it, or care either. If I could get something from Him in exchange for it, ok, we’ll play let’s make a deal. I found His website on the Internet. Everybody who is somebody has one these days, and as soon as I’m somebody I intend to create my own and tell the world about it. Anyhow, what I want to be is a top-notch, overpaid weatherman. The devil can arrange that, even if the weather he’s most familiar with is hot and steamy. So I sent Him an email with my address on it and a suggested date and time to get together. He took me up on it.... more...
Published on 10/30/2009
A tale of murder, suspense and quite possibly the end and beginning of the world (in that order). Leporidae Rex is an ongoing story told in blog format: http://leporidaerex.blogspot.com/ Comments are very much appreciated. more...
Published on 01/24/2009