They know…

26 10 2008

When the postman delivers what you were already beginning to suspect

 So…

 Apparently they do.

 I’m not quite sure how.  I was most careful.

I even selotaped shut my post box for three weeks.  Which of course meant my normal delivery of aquamarine pills (to repress my murderous tendencies) failed to arrive.  Not that I’m more murderous or anything…

 

So I killed the gardener.  He chopped a rose petal off.  He deserved it.

But he wasn’t my main quarry.  He wasn’t in the know.  How could he know?  Nobody knows…

I thought.

That’s when I met Felicity Kendall.  She explained the master plan.  We were to eat nothing but cauliflower cheese for 7 weeks solid.

 

I told her no.

 

Just no.

 

But she insisted.  And I ate it.  And now I can think of nothing but killing tigers.

And so with my main quarry identified, I set about killing as many tigers as I could find. 

Splendid. 

Nobody tells you that tigers are hard to find.  Once I’d killed all the ones in zoos, tracking them down in the wild proved more elusive.

Months I wandered.  I traversed the snows of the poles, I spent weeks searching them out in the streets of London, I swam to the depths of the Atlantic.  No tigers.  Boo.

Stupid tigers.  I guess they live to live another day.

 

But someone still knows…

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Loss…

15 10 2008

Loss

It hasn’t gone well.  Maybe even it’s over.  The dream in my heart just isn’t there.  The sky above is cold and grey.

Do you have to lose love, to ever feel love again?

Time will tell.





Not quite the goatie I thought I’d grow

8 10 2008

Not quite the goatie I thought would grow...

So I did a spot of personal grooming.  I wanted a new look.  Something suave and dashing.

Facial hair always works.  Makes you look all cool and that.

 

I thought.

 

Matron knows better though.  “All facial hair must be approved and signed for in triplicate” (Actually it’s more than triplicate in reality but whoever says “sign it in septupulet?”).  Is that even a word?  Who knows.

So anyway, that’s too much effort.

I improvised (and bypassed) the rigorous safety precautions and approvals.

 

2 days later…

Suffice to say. it’s not quite the goatie I thought  I’d grow.

 

*sobs*





A grave mistake…

5 10 2008

A grave mistake...

Matron’s a fanatical murderer.  Last week, for example, just to keep up with her insatiable bloodlust, she managed to work her way through an entire agency’s worth of secretary temps.  I needed some creative thinking to persuade the agency to send some more after the 37th failed to hand in her timesheet.  I don’t think my story of there being a giant secretary magnet hovering over the country plucking secretarys from the streets (and that they were at their safest at the institution where we have a strict no giant magnet flight zone in force), was totally convincing.  The promise to Boris of a night with Brad Pitt was a useful bribe that kept the rouse going longer than ordinarrily possible, though.

Still…with murder comes body disposal. 

Luckily for Matron I’m adept with shovels, acid, hungry pigs, DNA alteration and hacking into Police networks to modify their so called “evidence”.  It took me a while to get good at this stuff, so some of my early attempts, circa November 1938, were somewhat shambolic.  Take this for example.  I left a huge clue to all the authorities that I’d buried the fruits of Matron’s foolish behaviour.  At least, that’s what I think I buried there.  It’s been a while.

So I decided to take a peek.  There’s no harm in peeking right?

At first it was all pretty normal.  I excavated through the usual bones, teeth, spoons and amulets of ancient and ungodly power.  Then I found something really intriguing.  It had an eery mysterious glow and it smelt of wasps.  The light danced across its surface and it was dispensing weak lemon drink into a small cup that never seemed to overflow or run dry.  Then it began singing a melody of such enchanting beauty that I was powerless but to lick it furiously. 

A few hours later I was aware that my tongue had swollen to the size of my left foot – which was just as well as my left foot appeared to have gone.  As had my right elbow, though strangely my right hand was right where it should be.

It was ace.

But when I lost awareness of my eyebrows I knew I was sinking into trouble.  But I couldn’t stop licking.  The melody was washing over me in waves of surrealness that compelled me to lick.  I could feel my life ebbing away from me.

 

A pain.

 

A stinging pain at the back of my head.

 

Then nothing.

 

Nothing at all.

 

 

I awoke in my cell.  Matron was there.  And so was all of my body.  In fact, my body had been augmented by a large shovel shaped bump on the back of my head.  Matron explained.  I should never had tried to regain my foolishness by unearthing what I had stowed years before.  Matron, it would seem, had taken appropriate action to free me from my folly and save my life.

But damn.

I had found an eternal source of weak lemon drink and it was cruelly taken from me. 

 

I guess my quest continues…





Playing with radiation…

3 10 2008

White lies

So I was expecting a delivery of radioactive pills.  My vast array of medicinal pills just don’t cut it anymore.  I need to crank up the gigawatts somewhat. 

So I was most wonderfully pleased when I saw Geoffrey the postman crawl up the path towards the institution clutching a small pulsating package under his arm.  Strange, I thought when I was signing for the delivery, Geoffrey was looking decidedly perturbed – he was weak, breathing heavily and appeared to have a few less limbs than he normally does.  Glancing behind him I could see at least three fingers, a buttock and a few clumps of hair on the path.  Still… I had my pills and that’s all that matters.

I slammed the door in his face.

I retired to room 87 for a bit of peace and quiet so I could enjoy my new pills in complete isolation.  Well… almost.  You can learn to block out the wails of Elvis if you’re prepared to stick one of his un-eaten hamburgers in your ears.  Poor chap.  He’s been in here ages.  He’s delusional of course, he claims to have been some big rock and roll star.

Idiot.

I hate him.

The reinforced cardboard packaging was like tissue paper in my hands, and within hours, I had before me the glory and splendour of a most splendid pill indeed.  It pulsated softly at first, then violently as I prodded it repeatedly with a toothpick, then it almost exploded when I played it a bit of YMCA from my hi-fi.  But that’s normal – YMCA is potent stuff.

I spent ages playing with the pill.  I rolled it all over my face.  At least three times I had it up my left nostril, just for fun.  But I couldn’t continue for ever, the expectation mounted and I had to taste its magnificence…

 

At first, nothing.  It was mildly slimy and tasted a bit like Bovril.  I was close to picking out the invoice and phoning up Pills Rn’t Us. 

…But that’s when everything went white and my eyebrows started reciting Shakespeare.  Then I had brief out of body experience where Joan Collins was eating a large pink blancmange in the shape of a Fiat Panda.  I vaguely remember returning to my body whilst she gorged on the passenger airbag.

My mind was glowing.

 

Then Elvis shot me clean through the head with his gun.  He was sat on the toilet and had “apparently” missed himself- the bullet ricocheting off Joan’s blancmange and hitting me squarely between the eyes.

 

Bummer.

 

Dead again.





It was then that I realised the curtains could take the world…

1 10 2008

It was then that I realised the curtains could take the world...

I was in room 25.73

A strange place of blossom, cheese and chintz.

You know when you get that peculiar feeling that your knees are made of steel and your fingers are made of electro-magnets… well that’s how the room made me feel.  Then, almost to the rising crescendo of bohemian rhapsody, my hair stood on end and the curtains did assume their most potent power pose.

I was left dumbstruck, unable to move.

I quivered.

(Not very much obviously since I was unable to move)

…It was then that I realised that the curtains could take the world…