Sunday 29 January 2012

#22 Keith Brentford

I think the lesson where I’m concerned is “Never make fun of the local wise woman.” But I’ve not let my exceptionally small head hold me back. Quite the reverse in fact. I’m one of Mothwicke’s leading sports retailers and my distinctive head has given me quite an edge when it comes to drumming up business.

“Where should I go for some cycling shorts?” people might say.

“Go to Keith Brentford’s, the home of quality and value.” will come the reply.

“Who’s that?” some people who don’t know where my shop is will maybe say.

“That guy with the tiny head. You know, the curse victim.”

And they’ll know straight away who I am because obviously I’m regarded as something of a freak locally.

Yes, I was seeing Rachel for a while. We were together when she disappeared. Not “together” together, obviously! Otherwise I’d find myself implicated in what could quite possibly turn out to be a horrendous crime! But no, I mean we were seeing each other at the time. She’s a wonderful girl. Very giving and kind. And in bed? Well. A gentleman never tells. So I probably shouldn’t have brought that up. Now I have, I feel obliged to say she was exceptional. You know the feeling you get when you do a stock take of a large inventory of sporting goods and it balances off pretty much to the item? It’s a rare and beautiful thing.  But being with Rachel was up there. Almost as good.

Have I been lonely since? Of course. But it’s not about me. Someone out there knows something about Rachel. Someone can tell me and everyone else who cares about her whether or not she’s alive. So I don’t think of myself as “being lonely”. I am fairly well off. I can always get another woman.

Saturday 21 January 2012

#21 Sadie Maggotcorpse and Imelda Satan

Imelda: Has Satanic Metal given us a new lease of life? I should say so. A lovely young man came to speak to our Guild, wasn’t he lovely Sadie?

Sadie: Lovely.

Imelda: So softly spoken and polite. Well, anyway, he came to give us a talk about Black and Satanic Metal and how Satan was the way forward and well, I just turned to Sadie and I said, I said, “Sadie, this is for me.” Did I not? Did I not say that Sadie?

Sadie: You said, “This is for me.”

Imelda: And that was that. From that moment, knitting just didn’t do the job. I resigned from the church and got straight into the Black Metal. Candlemass, Mayhem, Gorgoroth…

Sadie: I’m not so fond of the Norwegian stuff.

Imelda: Och away Sadie! That’s the blackest of all the Black Metal! Black! Like the vast emptiness at the heart of the cosmos! Black! Like the primeval essence at the centre of all humanity!

Sadie: Here she goes. Look Imelda lets not fall out about this. It’s all good. Hail Satan.

Imelda: Fine. Fine then.

Sadie: There are some drawbacks to it though. It’s hard for me to do the Satan Horns with my arthritis. Plus the warden at our sheltered housing is always moaning at us to turn down the music and to stop bothering other residents about Satan. But what are we supposed to do? We’ve got to harvest as many souls as we can for our Dark Master.

Imelda: It’s easier than you might imagine to get people to sign up. A lot of our neighbours have dementia.

Saturday 14 January 2012

#20 Oliver Cherbourg & Zechariah Gwinn

Cherbourg: Of course we do all the latest styles. That is why all the young people come here. Everywhere needs a barber. One thing you cannot buy online or order through one of your fancy new telephones with no buttons.

Gwinn: How do they work, these telephones with the no buttons? Ah. If only my mother were here. If I told her the things that they had these days she would slap me and call me a liar and then she would continue to slap me until I admitted my lies and then she would chain me in my punishment sack until I was duly penitent and promised to be good and not to let the devil tempt me into telling such lies. Such awful lies. Awful lies that suck, suck, suck the good from you. In many ways it is good that my mother is no longer with us.

Cherbourg: A son must escape the apron strings and make his own way. This is something that I and my partner here have found. My friend Gwinn and I have never known the touch of a woman and in that sense remain free to do as men do. To be as men are meant to be. Please do not misunderstand. We have the utmost respect for women. It is for this very reason we have chosen not to sully them with our manly ways. Women are not barred from our establishment. Oh no. That would be illegal. 

Gwinn: Hmm yes. Illegal.

Cherbourg: But neither is their presence desired or encouraged.

Gwinn: We are not lovers to be clear. Oh no. Although many talk. My partner and I have over the years discovered and indeed developed many tinctures capable of assuaging the urges. The urges that keep a man from his primary purpose. Business.

Cherbourg: Ah yes. Business.

Gwinn: BUSINESS!

Thursday 5 January 2012

#19 Glenda Vessles

See, the thing about Mineral Meditation is it centres you. Which is just what I need to help me pack in the shoplifting. I can’t be doing that anymore. Not these days. I used to be able to outrun security guards but not now. Not since the change.

Now what you’ll probably not know is that everyone has their own place on this scale called the ladder of souls. So what you do is you arrange your soul minerals in accordance with your place on the ladder. The more minerals you have the better it works obviously. What? No it’s not like Crystal Magic at all. Crystal Magic is completely different. And a load of rubbish I might add. Mineral Meditation on the other hand is completely authentic. Minerals come from the earth don’t they? And there’s nothing more real that dirt.

The therapist on my last stretch said that she thought that my shoplifting was about trying to steal back my youth. That I was subconsciously trying to steal a little thrill back from life that I felt had been taken from me. Sounds good eh? Isn’t true though. The truth is I do it for the kiddies. Not mine of course. Mine won’t speak to me. I mean the kiddies of all the folk I sell the stuff to. They must have kiddies, some of them. Don’t you think?