Wednesday, May 9, 2012

Kibbles and Bits of Something Like Flesh...

He did it in the bathtub. That's where he butchered them. An ax would have been better, but the old electric carving knife was all he had.  And there were no neighbors around to hear, so that was good. A whole, big, high ceiling floor all to himself. They said it was a factory. Used to make all kinds a brassieres and girdles. But that was back when fat people still cared. Now they just bounce around like Silly Putty at a slow motion birthday party. Mus' be jelly.'cause jam don't shake like that....


This one was a political agitator. That mean she want a world what don't play favorites. Y'all can get hitched if you wanna get hitched , or jus' dance around in your underwear, if that's what you want a do. 


The 'monk' didn't take much to all that 'freedom' crap. He preferred a whole 'nother kind a livin'. Spent his nights doin' constructive shit, like stabbin' prostitutes, or crack-twistin' the heads a kissy-faced, lover-boys. Learned hisself all them useful skills at The Abbey. Not the big one over in Scotland or a little piece a Ireland, or wherever it is. This just one a the branches. Could be in Maryland, or New York, or Candyland, or up a rat's ass for all I care.


He don't dress like no monk though. This one got his own style. He wear black penny loafers, white socks, black blue jeans and any kind a shirt he like... jus' so it black. Comb his hair like Juan Peron too. You know what I mean. Like a tango dancer... Jus' like a tango dancer. But he wear these earrings, one in each ear. Left one a little silver dagger, real shiny, 'bout one and a half inches long. The other one jus' a plain cross. It made a copper, but it molded to look like wood. They dance around when he move.


'Bout four a the dogs waitin' too. They are 'specially partial to dead-bloody-damned-folks. Look at 'em fidgeting, lickin' their chops and all. But they will not set one foot inside that old bathroom. You'll see. He got 'em trained well. Could a been circus dogs, or  Nazi killer dogs, or somethin'  fancy,like that.


Got the body all portioned out, like Colonel Sanders do. Only it ain't in no cardboard tub. It in a real one. Then he sprinkle on some kibbles. You gotta give 'em some texture, after all. They like the crunchy stuff. Last thing he do is turn on the shower and moisten the food wit'  a l'il hot water. Not too much. Jus' nuf to amplify the scent. Then he step back and wait. They know what comin'. They do like this before. Big one lookin'. He want a move, but he know better. Don't wanna wind up in there too. Finally he jus' raise his hand... hold it up in the air a few seconds and snap his fingers. That the signal. That how they know. Then the 'monk' move back in a the corner, so the four hounds can politely  sashay up to that tub and begin to rip and chew...


You know, animal gonna like what you teach it to like......


Next time he want a learn 'em a little vampire....


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Monday, May 7, 2012

You wanna cry and go 'awww'? Read the first three episodes of THE LITTLE MATCH BOY...(they're right down below...but DON'T just click on this...Go read them)

Can't post new material tonight. Must curl up and sleep, so I can be at the doctor's office tomorrow morning (actually eight hours from now) at 8am. So I put up the first three episodes of  THE LITTLE MATCH BOY, my reinterpretation of the Hans Christian Andersen, poignant classic. 


If you like it, please continue from there. It's got waxy skinned misers, berserk, old, murderous maniacs skittering across icy streets, an adorable puppy, angel-like spirits of the dead, real Czech expressions (this is old, imperial Prague, after all) plus the requisite chorus of homeless, ragged orphans. A little like ANNIE... but ain't no Daddy Warbucks here. LES MISERABLES for children.... Go...see.....But first you better get out your handkerchiefs...


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vampire wonderland: THE LITTLE MATCH BOY ~~~~ a re-telling of H.C. And...

vampire wonderland: THE LITTLE MATCH BOY ~~~~ a re-telling of H.C. And...: Far, far away, across the wide Atlantic Sea and north of the Alps, lies the great, imperial city of Prague, an illustrious assemblage of fin...

vampire wonderland: THE LITTLE MATCH BOY ~~~~ a re-telling of H.C. And...

vampire wonderland: THE LITTLE MATCH BOY ~~~~ a re-telling of H.C. And...: The stern old man, a true miser, if ever there was one, hobbled up the fourteen steps. Max wanted to chase him. The little puppy wanted to b...

vampire wonderland: THE LITTLE MATCH BOY~~~~ a re-telling of H.C. Ande...

vampire wonderland: THE LITTLE MATCH BOY~~~~ a re-telling of H.C. Ande...: Six pfennigs is not very much. And the days grew ever colder. The little boy bundled himself up and went outside. He missed the way his moth...

vampire wonderland: SPONTANEOUS HUMAN COMBUSTION

vampire wonderland: SPONTANEOUS HUMAN COMBUSTION: So I knew it would go down that way. They found the guy behind the dumpster just outside Margate, which is about five miles from Atlantic Ci...

Tomas (a vampirino) Befriends The Homeless

It is I, Zebulon, the disembodied spirit. Look, we now know how Marianne came to be here. We know the rigors of her unspeakable crossing. Each and every 'elf' and 'cherub' got here the same way. Imagine how the small ones cried. And we will come back to her. I don't know when. But we will. For now I must take you to Tomas. 


It's fifty degrees Fahrenheit in Philadelphia. And right now it's one thirty a.m.. The Center City streets are quiet. Sunday nights are like that. And I do not care where you go. Float up to Gotham. You'll see. Mortals rest before the work week starts. And even though every day is a Labor Day these days, Mondays are still different. 


Steam rises from sidewalk vents. Most restaurants are closed. Posh mannequins peer out from artful  tableau. And although I've never seen any of them come to life, I'm told it does happen from time to time. Baylah has seen it. If you're new here, you probably don't know her, but you will. 


The 'enemy' is here too...the vampire killer. Watch out for the dogs. They're a giveaway. Huge, feral beasts with bright orange eyes. Do they bark? No. They just stop and stare, never blinking, never moving..... until he gives the signal. 


Another disembodied spirit told me they mauled a hooker last week, only she wasn't a hooker, just some dumb girl in over her head. I mean who hails down a taxi on a service alley? How stupid could she be? That's another thing. Stay away from dark green paneled vans. You know the color. You see it all the time. Old Camry green, they call it. He uses one. The 'enemy.' I mean. What? You want to know if she lived? No, she did not live. She was mauled. Do you even  know what that means? It means her cheek was ripped off. Her teeth were exposed. Her hand was crushed. I can't tell you how many fingers she lost. Who can count fingers!? It was all a bloody pulp! And don't ask me what they did to her pee-pee. You know some dogs have an instinct for that. Some a them are real animals.


Look at the huge, yellow clock, way up there on top a City Hall Tower. Philadelphia's Big Ben. I like to look at it. Don't it look like cheese? Sometimes I float up there. One time a jumper sailed right through me. Felt a big punch a pathetic, child-like regret as soon as he pushed off.   Heart goin' over two hundred ticks a minute. God damn, rotten shame... 


Tomas is up on Arch Street. Cops don't mess much with the bums over there. Ain't so gentrified. Not where he is. Big old stores. Nothing fancy. Just stores. Got a bus terminal nearby. You get the picture. He sits with 'em some nights. The bums, I mean. Buys 'em six packs a Tom's Hard Lemonade, or whatever you call it. Yeah, they know he's a vampire. They don't care. One night he gave out a whole mess a gift certificates good for luxury over-nights at the Four Seasons. You know. He's got 'familiars.' He gets things. Don't know what they did when the bums showed up. Another time he gave a guy a whole 'flat' of hundreds. That's five thousand dollars. It was a kid. He felt sorry for him. One old bastid got a Breitling wristwatch. Another got a almost new set a false teeth. And they fit pretty good.


Tomas likes the bums. He takes care a them. Got these little glass vials. Actually empty tubes from old free samples a perfume. Vampires got lots a shit. Fills 'em with dribs and drabs a his blood. Gives it to the sick ones. Liver cases. Stuff like that. They know what it is. But they drink it. They're glad to get it. Makes 'em well. You know Philadelphia street bums live four times longer, on average than street bums in cities what ain't got no vampires. No 'good' ones, I mean. They go 'Yo, Tommy! Look who it is!... He sets down with them. Maybe hands out a few blankets, some burgers from an all-night joint. If it ain't too windy, they play cards. But sometimes he just tells stories. They like that... Stories about Old Spain, or Vaux Hall. I think that's in London. It's crazy. People walk right by him. They don't even notice.....


But he notices them, 'cause remember, he does kill people every once in a while. And if he wants to, he can maul 'em up just as bad as them dogs..... provided they deserves it.....


Listen to how I'm talkin'. Disembodied spirits get like that sometime. We suck up crap from what's around us. Maybe tomorrow night I'll pass through your place? 'Cause even right now... I can see you, but you can't see me.


You'll know if I'm there. Sometimes your legs get a little bit itchy.....


So, 'scuse me now. I gotta float down that alley. Tomas tellin'  stories 'bout Byzantium......and Zebulon kind a like that place.....


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