Post by Raenius on Oct 1, 2009 5:57:46 GMT -5
“From out of nowhere.”
You ever think about that phrase? “ From out of nowhere.”
An impossible act to hide the fact that you, simply, were not paying attention.
Nowhere. What else comes from there, do you think? What other unknowable horrors and all too familiar crises have set up shop within its walls? Every beast and nightmare waiting patiently, perpetually, for that one instant when you least suspect something to happen to emerge from this nowhere and devour your sense of security. To shatter your hopes. To crush your dreams. To ruin your body and raze your mind.
Our hero’s thoughts wandered as he drove to meet his colleague, Erik, with whom there have been no shortage of complications, confrontations or ill-willed glowers and words. Yet… something within the man’s heinously dull Russian drone spoke volumes to Raenius’ senses making him more curious as the expedition went on.
At different times throughout the journey, he cast his mind back to several points of interest and the latest goings on of his less-than-normal life. Dirge’s injury. Laying Salem, a man long considered to be his brother, out like a sack of shit on the behest of a woman that he detests. His wife and daughter’s wellbeing. Fish guts. Reading the card for the next show only to discover that he had an upcoming match with a child for a title belt named after the extension of a website address. With so much going on, he wandered what exactly Erik would have to say to him that was so important.
It was the last thing he remembered considering before, from out of nowhere, the white pickup truck emerged with suicidal alacrity and haste from his right hand side.
~
‘Boo.’ Two crows fly away, squawking with fright at first, and then, as they retreat, shouting obscenities back at the pierced-eared weirdo that startled them. ‘Motherfuckers,’ rasps the voice of the scarecrow, his bald, shiny head sticking out from his hay-filled suit like a throbbing thumb after an accident with a hammer as he brushes dirt from his shoulder.
‘Quit playin’ around, Micky,’ growls the lion, face contorted in effort as he chews the end of a tiny little arm, spitting out a tiny little hand.
‘What’re you munchkin on?’ asks the scarecrow before the two burst into laughter.
Then, Mr serious comes in to spoil the fun. The tin man, a big motherfucker by all rights, stutters up towards them.
‘Quit screwing around you too. Miss Fear is about to take those ruby wrestling boots offa that guy her house landed on.’
‘What, so’s she can sell em on Ebay?’ asks the lion, noisily trying to suck midget meat from between his teeth. ‘I wouldn’t trust that shit, man. Especially when they come from a guy that can’t afford the other two thirds of his mask. I mean, shit, was he paying it off on instalments or some bollocks? What a joker. And no one listens to opera anymore…’
‘Ssshh!’
The pigtailed blonde begins to remove a boot from the left leg that protrudes from underneath her porch.
‘Hurry up, Dorothy,’ requests the scarecrow obnoxiously.
‘For the last fucking time,’ retorts the woman angrily, ‘my names Chassie!’
Once she takes the boots off, the man’s legs shrivel up, and the lion spits out a chunk of midget in surprise.
‘Fuck me runnin’!’
‘Wait a minute… do you think…’ begins the scarecrow pensively, ‘uh… you think that those boots had kept him alive and/or awake that whole time the house was on him, until just there now, when the mojo wore off because he wasn’t wearing ‘em anymore?’
Again the lion and he burst into raucous laughter, the tin man slapping them both on the head with a snarl.
‘Shut up, yous. We’re still going to have to follow a badly painted road to see that guy about the thing.’
‘Oh yeah, some magic motherfucker that gives out free shit?’ says the scarecrow. ‘I am so there.’
The lion scratches his balls.
‘Let’s fuckin’ do this.’
~
‘Fucking Jesus!’ exclaimed the Devil’s Advocate as he swerved hard to the left to avoid the truck that exited the junction next to his car with total disregard for the well being of our hero and, apparently, their own as well.
In that split second, Raenius looked ahead at another car headed straight for him on the side of the road that he had, just then, invaded for sanctuary. Trying to turn away from the second problem-car, our hero almost turned back into the right hand lane and onto the correct side of the road.
Almost.
The 1972 Dodge Challenger coupe tried its hardest to escape, but growled as it was clipped by the flash of red that was the oncoming car, sending it spinning and then, finally, rolling into a ditch.
Fog took our boy, then. A sticky red and sickly grey fog.
~
The lion spits the remnants of a monkey leg onto the ground, walking up the massive amount of steps to the wizard’s castle.
‘Pussies.’
‘Damn it, boy,’ spits the tin man with annoyance. ‘It’s not the monkeys’ fault that they can’t pilot fighter jets for shit. I’m more inclined to blame the person who thought it would be a good idea to put them in planes in the first place.’
‘You do that,’ replies the lion. ‘But where that fucking annoying, baby-faced, blue-eyed little huer stood, now there’s only a puddle.’
The scarecrow perks up. ‘There’s a joke about pussy juice in there, but fuck it, it’s too easy.’
With a hiss a pop and a swoosh; the elaborately large double doors swing open to reveal a young man, rampantly pulling on a rope that holds down a blimp.
‘Uh…’ begins the kid, looking like his mum just caught him choking the chicken to scat porn with a thumb up his arse. ‘Be gone, infidels! The wizard will not-’
‘You’re the fucking wizard?’ asks the lion, picking his nose. ‘The fuck kind of anti climactic shit is this? You’re about fucking twelve!’
‘I’m fucking sixteen, asshole!’ shouts the kid in a vastly broad Australian accent.
‘School night or not, motherfucker, we want our free shit!’
The wizard looks over at the rag tag, motley crew of freaks before him, then turns back to the rope, frenetically trying with all his might to release the blimp, but the tin man walks over to him, grabs him by the collar and slaps him across the face.
‘Right, bitch. I want a heart.’
‘Uh… uh…’ says the wizard, panicking. ‘But, don’t you see…? You’ve had a heart all along!’
‘No, you sack of shit. I want a specific heart. Belongs to some asshole in an iron mask. He’s a cheeky big shite, and needs a good beatin’. I mean, who’s going to pay for my broken window!?’
‘Oh… well, I…’
‘And I want to go home,’ says the blonde with the exceptionally hot figure. ‘Away the fuck from these dickheads!’
‘And I want a lawyer. A fucking good one, too. Cause I torture people on TV and then assume that, because it’s TV, I’ll get away with it. But, in reality, I kidnap and torture people and – one of these days, at least – someone’s gonna take me to court for that shit.’
The wizard’s eyebrow rises in confusion as he continues to stutter. ‘And what about you, mate?’ he asks the lion. ‘Any fucking stupid request from you, too?’
‘Huh?’ says the lion, about to lower Toto into his mouth by the tail, head first. Quickly, he drops the dog, looking around innocently. ‘Well… uh… I’m not sure. How about that belt, you got there?’
The wizard looks down at his lacklustre trousers, barely being held up by the belt and frowns.
‘But dude… I need this. My bags’ll fall down round my ankles!’
‘Phff. Some fucking wizard you are. And, for an Australian, not having a barbeque on the go? Poor effort, son. Poor effort.’
‘You’re not even wearing any trousers, you fuck! What could you possibly want my belt for?’
The lion scoffs. ‘The machinations of the king of the jungle are too complex for your shitty little Australian mind to fathom.’
‘…Don’t you just eat, piss, shit, fuck and sleep?’ asks the tin giant metal man.
‘…No.’
‘Why, what else do you bother yourself with?’
The lion rubs his chin, deep in thought. ‘I kill ambiguously aged, androgynous opera singers and infuriating, squeaky-voiced jailbait ass.’ Then he looks across the room toward the miniscule lad. ‘Sometimes I gut kids, too. Y’know… just for the craic.’
The kid gulps.
~
Climbing through the barbed wire cobwebs, Raenius woke up slowly.
‘What the fuck?’
Squinting his eyes, he heard a soft, diminutive whisper that fills the ether.
‘You shouldn’t swear, daddy.’
Sitting up like a shot, Raenius saw the blurry outline of his daughter, Mariko, sharpening with the rest of his world. His wife, the dragon overlord Kathryn Edict, lay asleep in a chair in the corner of the hospital room.
‘Your mum ok?’
‘Mom’s ok, yeah.’
‘Mum.’
‘Mom.’
‘Mum.’
‘Mom.’
‘I can ground you, you know.’
‘Nah. You’d be at work and Mom would let me out.’
He smiled. ‘C’mere,’ he said, ripping hospitalish paraphernalia out of his body, wondering exactly what it was that they were supposed to do for him.
The little one jumped up onto the hospital bed with him and gave him a hug.
‘So, I suppose the last thing I remember was being in the car.’
‘You ok, daddy?’
Looking down at his daughter through the all too familiar din of a concussion, he touched his side to discover a bruised or cracked rib.
‘Fine, sweetheart. Invincible, me.’
As Mariko affectionately pulled her tiny frame into his, a sense of contentment rose up within him. From out of nowhere.
You ever think about that phrase? “ From out of nowhere.”
An impossible act to hide the fact that you, simply, were not paying attention.
Nowhere. What else comes from there, do you think? What other unknowable horrors and all too familiar crises have set up shop within its walls? Every beast and nightmare waiting patiently, perpetually, for that one instant when you least suspect something to happen to emerge from this nowhere and devour your sense of security. To shatter your hopes. To crush your dreams. To ruin your body and raze your mind.
Our hero’s thoughts wandered as he drove to meet his colleague, Erik, with whom there have been no shortage of complications, confrontations or ill-willed glowers and words. Yet… something within the man’s heinously dull Russian drone spoke volumes to Raenius’ senses making him more curious as the expedition went on.
At different times throughout the journey, he cast his mind back to several points of interest and the latest goings on of his less-than-normal life. Dirge’s injury. Laying Salem, a man long considered to be his brother, out like a sack of shit on the behest of a woman that he detests. His wife and daughter’s wellbeing. Fish guts. Reading the card for the next show only to discover that he had an upcoming match with a child for a title belt named after the extension of a website address. With so much going on, he wandered what exactly Erik would have to say to him that was so important.
It was the last thing he remembered considering before, from out of nowhere, the white pickup truck emerged with suicidal alacrity and haste from his right hand side.
~
‘Boo.’ Two crows fly away, squawking with fright at first, and then, as they retreat, shouting obscenities back at the pierced-eared weirdo that startled them. ‘Motherfuckers,’ rasps the voice of the scarecrow, his bald, shiny head sticking out from his hay-filled suit like a throbbing thumb after an accident with a hammer as he brushes dirt from his shoulder.
‘Quit playin’ around, Micky,’ growls the lion, face contorted in effort as he chews the end of a tiny little arm, spitting out a tiny little hand.
‘What’re you munchkin on?’ asks the scarecrow before the two burst into laughter.
Then, Mr serious comes in to spoil the fun. The tin man, a big motherfucker by all rights, stutters up towards them.
‘Quit screwing around you too. Miss Fear is about to take those ruby wrestling boots offa that guy her house landed on.’
‘What, so’s she can sell em on Ebay?’ asks the lion, noisily trying to suck midget meat from between his teeth. ‘I wouldn’t trust that shit, man. Especially when they come from a guy that can’t afford the other two thirds of his mask. I mean, shit, was he paying it off on instalments or some bollocks? What a joker. And no one listens to opera anymore…’
‘Ssshh!’
The pigtailed blonde begins to remove a boot from the left leg that protrudes from underneath her porch.
‘Hurry up, Dorothy,’ requests the scarecrow obnoxiously.
‘For the last fucking time,’ retorts the woman angrily, ‘my names Chassie!’
Once she takes the boots off, the man’s legs shrivel up, and the lion spits out a chunk of midget in surprise.
‘Fuck me runnin’!’
‘Wait a minute… do you think…’ begins the scarecrow pensively, ‘uh… you think that those boots had kept him alive and/or awake that whole time the house was on him, until just there now, when the mojo wore off because he wasn’t wearing ‘em anymore?’
Again the lion and he burst into raucous laughter, the tin man slapping them both on the head with a snarl.
‘Shut up, yous. We’re still going to have to follow a badly painted road to see that guy about the thing.’
‘Oh yeah, some magic motherfucker that gives out free shit?’ says the scarecrow. ‘I am so there.’
The lion scratches his balls.
‘Let’s fuckin’ do this.’
~
‘Fucking Jesus!’ exclaimed the Devil’s Advocate as he swerved hard to the left to avoid the truck that exited the junction next to his car with total disregard for the well being of our hero and, apparently, their own as well.
In that split second, Raenius looked ahead at another car headed straight for him on the side of the road that he had, just then, invaded for sanctuary. Trying to turn away from the second problem-car, our hero almost turned back into the right hand lane and onto the correct side of the road.
Almost.
The 1972 Dodge Challenger coupe tried its hardest to escape, but growled as it was clipped by the flash of red that was the oncoming car, sending it spinning and then, finally, rolling into a ditch.
Fog took our boy, then. A sticky red and sickly grey fog.
~
The lion spits the remnants of a monkey leg onto the ground, walking up the massive amount of steps to the wizard’s castle.
‘Pussies.’
‘Damn it, boy,’ spits the tin man with annoyance. ‘It’s not the monkeys’ fault that they can’t pilot fighter jets for shit. I’m more inclined to blame the person who thought it would be a good idea to put them in planes in the first place.’
‘You do that,’ replies the lion. ‘But where that fucking annoying, baby-faced, blue-eyed little huer stood, now there’s only a puddle.’
The scarecrow perks up. ‘There’s a joke about pussy juice in there, but fuck it, it’s too easy.’
With a hiss a pop and a swoosh; the elaborately large double doors swing open to reveal a young man, rampantly pulling on a rope that holds down a blimp.
‘Uh…’ begins the kid, looking like his mum just caught him choking the chicken to scat porn with a thumb up his arse. ‘Be gone, infidels! The wizard will not-’
‘You’re the fucking wizard?’ asks the lion, picking his nose. ‘The fuck kind of anti climactic shit is this? You’re about fucking twelve!’
‘I’m fucking sixteen, asshole!’ shouts the kid in a vastly broad Australian accent.
‘School night or not, motherfucker, we want our free shit!’
The wizard looks over at the rag tag, motley crew of freaks before him, then turns back to the rope, frenetically trying with all his might to release the blimp, but the tin man walks over to him, grabs him by the collar and slaps him across the face.
‘Right, bitch. I want a heart.’
‘Uh… uh…’ says the wizard, panicking. ‘But, don’t you see…? You’ve had a heart all along!’
‘No, you sack of shit. I want a specific heart. Belongs to some asshole in an iron mask. He’s a cheeky big shite, and needs a good beatin’. I mean, who’s going to pay for my broken window!?’
‘Oh… well, I…’
‘And I want to go home,’ says the blonde with the exceptionally hot figure. ‘Away the fuck from these dickheads!’
‘And I want a lawyer. A fucking good one, too. Cause I torture people on TV and then assume that, because it’s TV, I’ll get away with it. But, in reality, I kidnap and torture people and – one of these days, at least – someone’s gonna take me to court for that shit.’
The wizard’s eyebrow rises in confusion as he continues to stutter. ‘And what about you, mate?’ he asks the lion. ‘Any fucking stupid request from you, too?’
‘Huh?’ says the lion, about to lower Toto into his mouth by the tail, head first. Quickly, he drops the dog, looking around innocently. ‘Well… uh… I’m not sure. How about that belt, you got there?’
The wizard looks down at his lacklustre trousers, barely being held up by the belt and frowns.
‘But dude… I need this. My bags’ll fall down round my ankles!’
‘Phff. Some fucking wizard you are. And, for an Australian, not having a barbeque on the go? Poor effort, son. Poor effort.’
‘You’re not even wearing any trousers, you fuck! What could you possibly want my belt for?’
The lion scoffs. ‘The machinations of the king of the jungle are too complex for your shitty little Australian mind to fathom.’
‘…Don’t you just eat, piss, shit, fuck and sleep?’ asks the tin giant metal man.
‘…No.’
‘Why, what else do you bother yourself with?’
The lion rubs his chin, deep in thought. ‘I kill ambiguously aged, androgynous opera singers and infuriating, squeaky-voiced jailbait ass.’ Then he looks across the room toward the miniscule lad. ‘Sometimes I gut kids, too. Y’know… just for the craic.’
The kid gulps.
~
Climbing through the barbed wire cobwebs, Raenius woke up slowly.
‘What the fuck?’
Squinting his eyes, he heard a soft, diminutive whisper that fills the ether.
‘You shouldn’t swear, daddy.’
Sitting up like a shot, Raenius saw the blurry outline of his daughter, Mariko, sharpening with the rest of his world. His wife, the dragon overlord Kathryn Edict, lay asleep in a chair in the corner of the hospital room.
‘Your mum ok?’
‘Mom’s ok, yeah.’
‘Mum.’
‘Mom.’
‘Mum.’
‘Mom.’
‘I can ground you, you know.’
‘Nah. You’d be at work and Mom would let me out.’
He smiled. ‘C’mere,’ he said, ripping hospitalish paraphernalia out of his body, wondering exactly what it was that they were supposed to do for him.
The little one jumped up onto the hospital bed with him and gave him a hug.
‘So, I suppose the last thing I remember was being in the car.’
‘You ok, daddy?’
Looking down at his daughter through the all too familiar din of a concussion, he touched his side to discover a bruised or cracked rib.
‘Fine, sweetheart. Invincible, me.’
As Mariko affectionately pulled her tiny frame into his, a sense of contentment rose up within him. From out of nowhere.
x2
