Friday, November 5, 2010

The Book of Sarah

Bob slipped out. That sublimation thing has been going real good for them lately. True, I understand that the ability comes and goes. It's effected by stress, emotions and all that stuff. But for now, everything looks all right. I'll bet you can guess where Bob went? And for those of you who didn't key in on last night's episode, I'll tell you. He went to find Barbra Muller. He went to find his eighty-something year old, nazi priestess wife. And he did it. He found  her. It wasn't hard. He just popped in on that computer whiz mole kid and after a few carefully aimed clicks he had her. She was living on top of a greasy cheese steak joint somewhere under the Frankford El. Strong old bitch too. Nukes her own frozen 'meals on wheels' dinners and everything. She holds court from a big, dirty, worn out easy chair. Got a little swastika tattooed on her liver spotted, wrinkly forearm, long grimy toenails sticking out of her terry-cloth 'scuffies.' A real witch, a feamale troll. Definitely not the valkerie she once thought she was. And when Bob seemed to pop out of the air right in front of her, (a neat little sublimation trick) she never even missed a beat. She just stretched her turkey neck a little to the right (so she could see which letter Vanna was turning) and said - Jesus Christ! Where the hell did you come from!? But if you knew what to look for, you'd have seen that her left hand was trembling a little bit more than usual. From hell, you low-life virago. From hell - said Bob. His one time sweetie said - Yeah? didja have a nice trip? He did not reply, but moved a bit closer and whispered - You made me kill those kids. You made me destroy those people. She just laughed, cackled actually. She liked that one. Couldn't stop. Couldn't help it. Her upper plate almost flew out. But then her bloated features came together in a mask of evil - Shut your tatter trap you escaped convict from Hell you! Lucky I don't turn you in. And I know 'people.' I can do it. I got friends down that way. And who'd you kill, a bunch of liberal,Mount Airy Jews and Redheads? (her joke name for blacks)? Shit, this place is better off without them - she belched. Then she began to chant some occult spell the nazis all learned from a 'Madam' Blavatsky, some late nineteenth century, big-bellied, drawing room, free food guzzling phony that Wagner had the hots for. I guess she thought it'd send him back to hell. But all it did was make him angry. And he lunged toward her and tore her head off. Man, her cat was sure surprized. I've never seen any green eyed demon freeze that still and open its eyes so wide. But a heartbeat later that chizling, back alley tramp was already licking up the blood gushing out from the raggedy stump of her dirty neck. And Bob? He just spit right in her face (lucky she was looking up) and walked out. Man was that a show. Better than that planet I saw blow up the other night. Better than the party games at Caligula's sweet sixteen. It's a shame I don't have the use of anybody's fingers, or I'd have put it on U Tube. What the hell am I talking about? I am pulling the strings on that wilkravitz familiar guy. But Tomas might not like it. He's private that way. Maybe I better think about this a little bit..........Hummm........ OK, I thought.......

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