No Title Yet

Chapter 7

The Story The Authors

"Am I late?" squeaked Janice in voice that sounded small and weary even in Morse Code. Still no one seemed to notice her. Kurt Loder bellowed abuse into the cold unhearing ear of the telemarketer who had long ago had both eardrums punctured for just this sort of situation. It had worked out for him. His commissions had nearly tripled once he was no longer able to hear. Kiki simply babbled and drooled. Demetrius howled like a babboon in rut. The sentries had decided that now was a good time for a quick smoke break whilst Kurt was otherwise occupied Only the Iron Sausage moved. It wheezed and shuddered across the dusty attic floor like an asthmatic dachsund farting out acrid black puffs of smoke. It inched it's way towards Demetrius's cage and lapped at the broadening pool of blood underneath with a curious fly like vacuum attachment. Janice caught her breath. Demetrius's cage was suspended thirty feet in the air, the Iron Sausage was only about six feet long. Demetrius was safe for the time being so she could turn her attention to dealing with Kurt Loder first as he was bellowing certain derogatory remarks as to the true birth origins of telemarketers into the dripping mouthpiece of the telephone. but Janice had thought too soon. A whirring noise rose through the otherworldly clanking of The Iron Sausage and suddenly there emerged long metal claws from within it not unlike those of Spiderman's archnemesis Dr. Octopus. With more laborious wheezing the Iron Sausage lifted its shining steel talons towards its intended prize none

"Down! Down, Boy!", roared Kurt swinging the phone heavily onto the Sausage's battered back. "There'll be plenty of time for that later. He must remain alive at least until Janice arrives. Here play with one of these." he said indicating towards one of the recently rearrived sentries. The sentry wailed the wail of the damned and beat a hasty retreat down the attic stairwell with the shuddering clomp of the Iron Sausage close behind. "I always told you that smoking was bad for your health" sneered Kurt as a ghastly and maniacal giggle bubbled out from between the yellowed pustuals that constituted his lips these days. Lanark

The Iron Sausage chased the sentry until the sentry managed to outrun him.He struggled to crawl, exhausted, to a corner and, to lick his wounds. Angry but all the while thinking to himself, "Mistreat me now and see hell later, old man." But lingering behind the unspoken threat was a pain so deep that even the Sausage could not comprehend it's reality. As horrible as his existance was the thought of rejection by Kurt cut like a dirty knife. No child understands rejection by his father. Lynne Mordecai

The Iron Sausage paused on the ground floor of the abandoned building unsure of what to do. Its new toy had gotten away from it and it had no direction now. The Iron Sausage understood rejection too. It was hungry and lonely and wanted nothing more than to play scamper about like a large black metal puppy. It didn't really mean to injure anybody, it was just that whenever it played with anyone parts of them would be inevitably get scattered about and they'd stop playing. The Iron Sausage found this sort of depressing in its own unfeeling machinelike way. It huffed and shuddered as quietly as it couold manage towards the front door thinking it might find the sentry on the other side. It paused, gathered a pregnant pause and flung the door back so violently that the doorknob imbedded itself in the wall. No sentry. A street. Vast blue ceiling. other buildings. The Sausage had never been outside on its own before. Then it saw it. Parked in front of the building next door, motor still running and little grey puffs of exaust percolating from its laboring motor, Janice's taxi. Something stirred deep within the crackling circuitry of the Iron Sausages guts. It began to feel something strange. The Iron Sausage began to understand love Lanark

Love Love Love Love If the Iron Sausage had had eyes little Brady Bunch twinkles would be dancing in them. It marveled at the chassis on the taxi, the solid constuction. This was definitely a machine built for speed who kept her motor clean, if you know what I'm saying. The shining chrome and rattling purr of her motor awakened an odd sort of insect lust in the Sausage. It rattled and shook even more than usual. But how to approach this vision of steely beauty, this yellow metal Venus. The Iron Sausage decided to try acting nonchalant and see if the taxi would notice it. It would be hard not to. They were the only things on the street. the Sausage gathered up its courage and began to approximate as best it could a suantering gait past the taxi while trying to spritely whistle the intro to "Crazy Train" that it dimly remembered from Kurt's video days. It was a hideous keaning noise rather like an out of tune calliope being splintered by machine gun fire. The taxi remained aloof. Lanark

The Story	The Authors
"Am I late?" squeaked Janice in voice that sounded small and weary even in Morse Code. Still no one seemed to notice her. Kurt Loder bellowed abuse into the cold unhearing ear of the telemarketer who had long ago had both eardrums punctured for just this sort of situation. It had worked out for him. His commissions had nearly tripled once he was no longer able to hear. Kiki simply babbled and drooled. Demetrius howled like a babboon in rut. The sentries had decided that now was a good time for a quick smoke break whilst Kurt was otherwise occupied Only the Iron Sausage moved. It wheezed and shuddered across the dusty attic floor like an asthmatic dachsund farting out acrid black puffs of smoke. It inched it's way towards Demetrius's cage and lapped at the broadening pool of blood underneath with a curious fly like vacuum attachment. Janice caught her breath. Demetrius's cage was suspended thirty feet in the air, the Iron Sausage was only about six feet long. Demetrius was safe for the time being so she could turn her attention to dealing with Kurt Loder first as he was bellowing certain derogatory remarks as to the true birth origins of telemarketers into the dripping mouthpiece of the telephone. but Janice had thought too soon. A whirring noise rose through the otherworldly clanking of The Iron Sausage and suddenly there emerged long metal claws from within it not unlike those of Spiderman's archnemesis Dr. Octopus. With more laborious wheezing the Iron Sausage lifted its shining steel talons towards its intended prize	none
"Down! Down, Boy!", roared Kurt swinging the phone heavily onto the Sausage's battered back. "There'll be plenty of time for that later. He must remain alive at least until Janice arrives. Here play with one of these." he said indicating towards one of the recently rearrived sentries. The sentry wailed the wail of the damned and beat a hasty retreat down the attic stairwell with the shuddering clomp of the Iron Sausage close behind. "I always told you that smoking was bad for your health" sneered Kurt as a ghastly and maniacal giggle bubbled out from between the yellowed pustuals that constituted his lips these days.	Lanark
The Iron Sausage chased the sentry until the sentry managed to outrun him.He struggled to crawl, exhausted, to a corner and, to lick his wounds. Angry but all the while thinking to himself, "Mistreat me now and see hell later, old man." But lingering behind the unspoken threat was a pain so deep that even the Sausage could not comprehend it's reality. As horrible as his existance was the thought of rejection by Kurt cut like a dirty knife. No child understands rejection by his father.	Lynne Mordecai
The Iron Sausage paused on the ground floor of the abandoned building unsure of what to do. Its new toy had gotten away from it and it had no direction now. The Iron Sausage understood rejection too. It was hungry and lonely and wanted nothing more than to play scamper about like a large black metal puppy. It didn't really mean to injure anybody, it was just that whenever it played with anyone parts of them would be inevitably get scattered about and they'd stop playing. The Iron Sausage found this sort of depressing in its own unfeeling machinelike way. It huffed and shuddered as quietly as it couold manage towards the front door thinking it might find the sentry on the other side. It paused, gathered a pregnant pause and flung the door back so violently that the doorknob imbedded itself in the wall. No sentry. A street. Vast blue ceiling. other buildings. The Sausage had never been outside on its own before. Then it saw it. Parked in front of the building next door, motor still running and little grey puffs of exaust percolating from its laboring motor, Janice's taxi. Something stirred deep within the crackling circuitry of the Iron Sausages guts. It began to feel something strange. The Iron Sausage began to understand love	Lanark
Love Love Love Love If the Iron Sausage had had eyes little Brady Bunch twinkles would be dancing in them. It marveled at the chassis on the taxi, the solid constuction. This was definitely a machine built for speed who kept her motor clean, if you know what I'm saying. The shining chrome and rattling purr of her motor awakened an odd sort of insect lust in the Sausage. It rattled and shook even more than usual. But how to approach this vision of steely beauty, this yellow metal Venus. The Iron Sausage decided to try acting nonchalant and see if the taxi would notice it. It would be hard not to. They were the only things on the street. the Sausage gathered up its courage and began to approximate as best it could a suantering gait past the taxi while trying to spritely whistle the intro to "Crazy Train" that it dimly remembered from Kurt's video days. It was a hideous keaning noise rather like an out of tune calliope being splintered by machine gun fire. The taxi remained aloof.	Lanark

Library | Contents | Next Page