Chapter 3
| The Story | The Authors |
|---|---|
| Unfortunately, the true meaning of all this was difficult to discover. | |
| It all made sense to Lassie, the nihilistic poodle. Yes, the forest was on fire and the jello went bad and cancer was spreading like newly sprouted grass. Life is about dancing to your own personal boom-boom, whether it be chasing your tail or licking the wounds of the soon to be departed. Pindar or Gore Vidal would record the recipe for Vashondra's martinis just as June Lockheart had done for Campbell's soup. Sturm und Drang until the candle is silenced and we realize we are idiots telling a tale signifying nothing. | |
| But then cam the wolfy mighty hero Acer and he aced too fast. He split the forest into two but just raising his one hand up above his head. And later as he went on gazing the forest, he saw some tiny miny angels that fell from the edge of the stars. He just caught them on time and saved their lives. So they thanked them with a kiss on the chick and said bye bye. Here comes a lullaby he thought. Just my taste. | |
| At that lovely moment, the big crazy gray wolf comes to appearance. He screams to Acer, the wolfy mighty hero. Acer turns to him and screams back. So the big crazy gray wolf says "Yes, man. You are a real wolfy mighty hero of this forest!". | |
| Janice finished reading the last page and closed the book. She enjoyed reading her autobiography, so much so, that she read it at least once a month. But this time, something was missing. There seemed to be a huge gap in her story. She could vividly remember Kristi's funeral, the search for the perfect apple pie, the abusive Zsa Zsa Gabor, traveling to another planet with exploding squirrels and then traveling through time back to earth in the brilliant Joel's improvised chewing gum space ship. But suddenly, it was no longer in the book. Could she have been dreaming? Or was someone messing with her mind? Worse yet, someone could have been tampering with her book! | |
| Just Then Nurse Mary Walked In And Loudly Proclaimed That Recreation Time Was Over, And "Lights Out" Was In Three Minutes. Janice Shuffled Back To Her Room And Took Her Place On Her Bed. The Plastic Sheets Were Cold, As Someone Had Left The Window Open. The Guards Didn't Worry Much About Open Windows Because Most Of The Patients Were Rather Old And Senile, And Their Bodies Weren't What They Used To Be. Plus The Bars Rather Discouraged Any Sane Attempt At Getting Out. Janice Had Stolen A Knitting Needle From Arts And Crafts Once, But She Couldn't Pry Them Loose. That Was All In The Past Though. Janice Hadn't Tried To Escape For The Last Three Years. Nothing Mattered Anymore. Soon Nurse Mary Would Come In And Strap Her Down, And She Would Drift Off Into A Blissfull Sleep, High On Meds And Funky Brain Signals. | |
| But nurse Mary wouldn't be strapping her down tonight. Unbeknownst to Janice, someone had already slit the old woman's throat. A shadow appeared in the doorway of Janice's padded cell. "Good evening Nurse Mary. You better strap me down good and tight tonight." Janice said submissively. "Nurse Mary won't be strapping you down anymore." said the shadowy figure in the doorway. Janice recognised the voice from her past. "Janice," said the shadowy figure, "I'm so disappointed in you. You used to be in such control of your life. How could you let yourself go like this?" Janice turned to look at the person in the shadows, squinting as her eyes adjusted to the darkness. "Oh my God!" Janice gasped. "It's you!" | |
| And the wily dentist stepped forward from the shadows, brandishing his nitrous oxide tank and grinning maniacally. "Ooohh, that looks like a bad one, Janice," he said. "I think that's going to have to come out." He brought out the drill from behind him and it buzzed threateningly, nearing her frontal lobe . . . | |
| Then, hardly percievable to the naked eye, a small infectious germ leaped upon the drill, as the drill came, closer, closer, closer to her mouth.... | |
| but, in the end, nothing much happened, because like all good fairy tales that must end up happily ever after, Janice woke up, and found herself same and sound in her pink satin sheets, perfumed lightly with the scent of lavendar. | |
| Only, Janice noticed as she looked around the crumpled sheets, only, something was wrong. Something was missing. Ah, yes, Nigel. It would make sense that Nigel would be missing. It seemed that lately, that was all he ever did. Though, she had to admit, she much preferred him not there than there at all. It meant she could have more fun. She smiled cunningly, and felt a sensation of cold. She gazed across the superbly decorated bedchamber to the french door that was wide open. "Odd," she remarked, rising in her nakedness from the perfumed sheets. She crossed the room, her ruby red painted toes sinking into the deep white pile carpet. "I always close the window when I sleep in the nude." Realizing that she was unclothed, she picked up a discarded piece of lingerie from a overstuffed chair. The lingerie, admittedly, didn't hide much, but it was better than nothing. She stepped out on the balcony, and looked down the lattice, convieniently placed outside her window, for easy entrances and exits of her many lovers. 'Had there been anyone last night?' She thought for a moment, streching her arms over her Clairol red hair. As her arms raised, the lace of the skimpy lingerie shifted, and revealed a bit too much of one of her large, supple breasts. She turned from the balcony, not noticing the man in the bush below, who had been staring up at her the whole time, and who, incidentally had a rather stunning view of the nakedness revealed under the lingerie. | |
| So, into her bedroom she returned, not bothering to close the french door. "No one will be in here, and I am only going to sleep a bit more." She stripped out of her scanty lingerie, and laid herself upon the queen-size bed. Sighing in the sheer joy of her self-confidence, she sat up eith ease, and looked herself over. 'If only Nigel were here, oh, the things we could do now, in the state I'm in.' She moaned, and ran a ruby red finger nail down her thigh, and to her knee. "oh, I wish he were here, I wish anyone were here now..." As she ran her finger up the inside of her thigh, she didn't notice the slight swaying of the flowers on the lattice. Turning all her attention to the smooth skin between her firm thighs, she still didn't notice the man as he alighted onto her balcony. He stared into the room, and watched her, as she pleasured herself. His steps were silent, and smooth, as he glided into the room, unnoticed by the pleasure-seeking Janice. He reached her, and was standing right in front of her wen her finger plunged into herself, and she arched her back, and threw her Clairol red hair back, in satisfaction. Her eyes met his as this happened, andshe stopped short, her wet fingers dropping slowly from their position between her thighs. | |
| Clearing his throat, he spoke to her. "Janice, Nigel will be very unhappy with me, but, I think, in the state you're in, you need this more that Nigel does. He sent me up to get you ready for his homecoming. It seems like you are already MORE than ready." His hand drifted southward, and she tensed, fearing what would happen next. | |
| He slowly cleared his voice and got down on one knee. She braced herself for a strained rendition of "Oh Susanna". He slowly stuck his thumb into her bellybutton. After a few minutes he got back up and gave her the best kiss she had ever had in her life. | |
| "Oh, Nigel," she breathed. "That was... so unusually..uhm.." "Erotic? In tune? Yes, m'lady.. and think, I'll be here all night." He reached behind him and brought out a familiar looking stringed instrument. "And look, luv! I brought my banjo, too!" Nigel immediately launched into a powerfully annoying strain of Home on the Range. The banjo had only two strings which Nigel plucked furiously. Her desire, once cresting on the waves of near-ecstacy, now plummetted like a deflated weather balloon. She listened to Nigel's energetic musical spasms and sighed deeply and dreamt of her once lost love, Sir Selwin Quicksand.... | |
| Selwin, now there was a man with strength. His shoulders. His arms. His wrists. And his hands. Those hands, so strong yet so soft. Carressing her, touching her. Oh, what those hands could do. None of them, however, even came close to the wonderful music he made on his banjo, and it had all of the strings. None of this two stringed, home on the range crap! Selwin could paly just as well as anyone on "Hee Haw." He was an inspiration, a dream. Nothing at all like this Nigel guy. Oh well, after his death in the semi-finals of the banjo duel I suppose I have to settle for Nigel. "Yes Nigel?" "Oh yeah baby, I love that tune you are playing." | |
| "I think you are confused, Janice. I'm not actually Nigel. Remember? Nigel sent me here to prepare you for his arrival." Janice gave the man a quizzical look. "I'm Nigel's best friend. Rufus T. Firefly. Remember?" Rufus finished his rendition of Home on the Range and moved right into Country Roads without skipping a beat. Janice's head swam. She closed her eyes, squeezing them tight against the memories that were flooding back. "We're not in my room are we?" she said to Rufus. "No, you silly thing! This is your padded cell. But don't worry, Nigel will be here soon to rescue you. Country Roads, take me home ..." Rufus sang. | |
| Sing it aagain for me.. she asked | |
| i love you man | |
| but erstwhile peccary besmirch thy loathsome shore! | |
| Certainly they were unusual lyrics | |
| Not many people sang about South American rodents but the music was interesting if for only its rollicking contrapuntal undercurrents. Janice pushed the yellowed pillows up behind her back and began to move her left foot in an approximation of the rhythm. "You know, this would be quite nice with piano accompaniment," she mused without a hint of irony. "I was just thinking the same thing," chirpped her visitor, between banjo plucks. Stepping back from the end of Janice’s bed he beckoned into the corridor. Something bumped the door frame and then a small upright piano on wheels appeared at the end of her bed. Behind it was an avuncular black man who smiled nervously at Janice and moved easily into a smart rendition of As Time Goes By. Meanwhile Rufus held a pink spot on the singer/pianist. There were twenty six Swiss francs in the brandy snifter on the piano top. | |
| Janice was impressed, but confused. "What is the point of all this?" she asked Rufus. "We are preparing you for Nigel." Rufus explained to her again. Janice decided that Nigel must be quite a man of power and influence. He certainly was a mystery at this point. "Well, I hope he doesn't turn out to be an odious little troglodyte. That would be very anti-climactic after a build up like this." The man at the piano stared blankly at Janice as he finished his song. He scooped the Swiss francs out of the brandy snifter and dropped them in his coat pocket. | |
| "How about a request, little girl?" "You must have some favourites now don't you?" he asked in a beautiful cocktail voice. "I used to play at Rick's you know... it was the finest nightclub in North Africa... just a memory now." | |
| "yes memeories" agreed Joanie(i.e. little girl)"after they needed the superhighway to Adas-ababa they've been leveling everything in sight.", "those no good garbage-pickers, they ruin everything!"charged Amal. | |
| A | |
| Amal was still having "night visitors" but the treatment seemed to be helping. Janice truly enjoyed "Memory" after all she had seen Cats 72 times and knew the entire libretto. This guy at the piano was good but he wasn’t in a cat costume and he wasn’t Andrew Lloyd Weber either. "Please stop, it’s wonderful but I think I’m going to have a hairball." Pleaded Janice. | |
| "Yes, play something else." Rufus ordered. He nervously glanced at his watch and then nervously looked at the door. Nigel should have been here by now. Amal began to play the theme song from the movie "The Sting". Janice wondered how many songs Amal was going to play before Nigel made his grand entrance. She wanted to say something but she could see that Rufus was obviously agitated and she didn't want to set him off. Rufus began to pace back and forth across the room. Janice could see that he was clenching his teeth and a vein had popped out on his forehead. She was suddenly very uncomfortable with the situation that she was in. | |
| So she got up and remade the bed unsing the 300 thread count pima cotton sheet set with the Martha Stewart monograms. She got back into the bed and immediately felt much more comfortable. She put the coins she found under the mattress, some kopeks and a zloty, into the empty brandy snifter on top of the piano. Amal was having a really hard time with the last request for "Best of AC/DC" but he carried on nontheless. | |
| Rufus continued to pace but now he was clenching and unclenching his fists. His face was turning red and Janice could swear she saw smoke coming out of his ears. Amal was screeching "Back in Black" at the top of his lungs. Janice drew fine percale sheet up to her chin. She was getting nervous again. Suddenly, Rufus stopped pacing and stomped his steel toe booted foot on the floor. "Where the hell is Nigel?!" he roared. Amal stopped singing and playing the piano. Janice pulled the sheet up over her nose. Rufus started pacing again and mumbling to himself. "I'm going to kill that bastard when he gets here!" Janice barely heard him say. | |
| "What did you say?" mumbled Janice, her mouth filled with Cadbury’s Chocolate Fingers as she burrowed deep into the enveloping fine pima cotton duvet, over-filled with the down of virgin geese. She stuffed more chocolate fingers from the Cadbury’s tin box with the embossed, hinged lid into her generously sized mouth. She could barely hear Amal at the piano as he strained to finish the "Best of AC/DC" medley over the delectable crunch of each biscuit filled finger. She pulled the big down filled pillows in and around her under the duvet and stuffed another dozen chocolate fingers into her gaping maw. | |
| "This is some great chocolate," Janice thought. As if on cue, Amal started playing "Lady Stardust" on the piano. Janice wanted to sing along, but half-eaten chocolate poured from her mouth when she opened it to sing. "Ah poop," she cried, as the sweets stained her pillows. She cried as Amal sang... "He was awful nice, really quite paradise.. and he sang all night long..." | |
| (http://www.fa.indiana.edu/~jestone/story/) | |
| Amal determined that by Janice's reaction to the song he'd just played, she was a Bowie fan and so decided to play a medley for her starting with Space Oddity and going into Heroes. Janice cried even harder and chocolate drool spilled out of her mouth onto the crisply ironed douvet cover. That's when Nigel finally walked into the room. He was appalled at what he saw. Rufus had curled up in a fetal position on the floor in the corner and was rocking back and forth, mumbling to himself. His man Amal was singing a very poor rendition of China Girl. And the woman that Nigel had sent Rufus and Amal to prepare for his (Nigel's) arrival was dripping with mascara and Cadbury spittle. "What the hell is going on here?" Nigel demanded. Janice turned to look at Nigel and seeing that he was not infact a troglodyte, but rather a tall, distinguished, purposeful looking man, she buried her face in her Scandia down pillow and sobbed uncontrollably. Rufus, having been driven mad with the anticipation of Nigel's coming, lunged at Nigel with the intent to kill him. Fortunately, the quick thinking Amal, who was a better fighter than a singer, broke the piano bench over Rufus' head, killing him outright. | |
| In fright, Janice ate the last dozen and a half Cadbury's chocolate fingers. | |
| Janice was in such a state of fear and and confusion combined with a massive sugar high, that she ate her own chocolate covered fingers. The crimson stain spread across the Martha Stewart sheets as she nibbled her bloody stumps. Amal and Nigel left her there to bleed to death. | |
| Janice are thinking. She feels her lonely. | |
| Kaput. | |
| And then the mimble sniggle planged into a flipperous vibble. "Colab!" he prackened, "I werted the jabelus!" So he snarfenkurd from Mushat to Lang. | |