Wednesday, September 23, 2015


This is Jonathon ben Macabi. I know about the Ca-Ca and Timothy story arc. It's true! It's true! They're ALL true, except maybe that thing about the giant, human-like Edwardian dogs. Blame that on some old cheese. Edith left it in the refrigerator and Billy, the one who blogs for us, ate it. The refrigerator gets cleaned more often now.

The thing is all the Ca-Ca and Esther's murder events took place now, in August and September. He moved it up to November to confuse people, because some of their neighbors in South Philadelphia knew what happened. Plus the bum from the alley, who saw it all, ran around telling everybody. So, him, they had to kill. Doctor Franklin had one of his sleek, black, electric soundless cars pluck him off the street one night. The cops were in on it. They wanted to end this thing too. You see, Doctor Franklin and his people wanted to study the children. They wanted to analyze Timothy and Ca-Ca to see what makes kids kill other kids. And now they could. Better even, because they had the parents too.

Many of you know how large the underground, scientific installation is. The 'Anti-Enchantment-Bureau' spreads out for maybe eight acres and don't forget there're multiple levels. It all grew out of The Junto, an intellectual exploration society founded by Doctor Franklin in the seventeen twenties. And for the umpteenth time, no, he is not a vampire. The old patriot keeps ticking via deep and copious harmonic treatments on his Grand Armonica.

What was I talking about?... Oh, yes... the 'bum.' I hate that word. He was poor and homeless. He had issues. And now he's dead. They fed him to the merfolk. Doctor Franklin has a little colony (maybe four or five) occupying the big, maze-like tank once home to a baby Godzilla. But they don't do well all by themselves and the sad, little thing didn't make it. The staff dismembered it, sending tissue, bone and organ samples to biologists the world over. Still haven't figured out how a more or less dinosaur managed to survive so long and grow so large. Needless to say, the baby wasn't that big yet, since it was new-born, picked up off the Falklands. God knows where the parents are. Not to mention the siblings.

But they disinfected the tanks, put in some deep ocean décor and now the merfolk swim there. The Bureau doesn't own them. They're not slaves. Most stay for about six months and are then returned to a colony living nearby in the Gulf Stream right off Cape May. The various colonies send representatives to The Great Senate, somewhere in the Mid Atlantic Ridge. Pacific merfolk have their own thing and the ones in the Indian Ocean have quite an august empire with a powerful nobility and everything.

All merfolk eat human flesh, you know. They don't view it as cannibalistic, since the two strains are so different. And they eat it raw, right off the bone. Just stripped him down and threw the poor bum in. First he tread water for a bit. Lights were low to simulate evening. Then they began to drift back, the merfolk I mean, circling around him and brushing up against his skin. He quivered. He giggled. Soon they grew bolder, pinching him and poking with their fingers. They scratches his skin, the better to smell the blood. He tried to break away, but he couldn't. They were all around him, smiling and barring the way. One dove under, biting a little gobbet of flesh off his ass. Blood dripped from her mouth, as she broke the surface. The others laughed and joined in. The man screamed, as Bureau Personnel peered through the plexiglass and watched. Soon he looked just like a turkey after Thanksgiving dinner.

The Bureau, it seems, has a dark side....

<more next time>


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