On the deck of the good ship Stevedore’ Delight, the crew buzzed with excitement. After months at sea, their captain would finally reveal himself! The elusive and illustrious Captain, master of the eighth sea, keeper of bounteous secrets, pillager of pillars! This was the day, exactly halfway through the voyage, when the good Captain would strut out from his quarters, the oaken doors sweeping gently over the floorboards with a gentle hum, the glow of red lanterns-the Captain’s own peculiar lighting necessity, rumored to remind him of his lost Love from long, long ago-filling the below decks with an ominous crimson hue, skittering about as the lights swayed with the sea’s ebb, casting shadows askew in direct contrast with the Captain’s steady footsteps, pounding hard and firm, reverberating the wood, almost mechanical in nature.
The crew was ordered to remain above decks while the solo procession began, instructions barked to the score of men by Samity, the portly First Mate of the ship, rumored to be the Captain himself since his was the face that dominated the command chain throughout most voyages. Samity sat by the stairs leading belowdecks in a steel rocking chair, his own heavy breathing and gentle swaying in step entirely with the tidal motions caressing the ship across the Sea of Madness. To the naked eye, it was almost as if the chair did not rock at all, only remaining in place as the world around it shifted, the sole clue to break this mystery being Samity’s belabored exhalations. Samity had this impression on people: as he doggedly stayed on top of the world, the processes and people around him could not deter him, bending to his will in an ubiquitous game of chicken.
Samity brought a whistle to lips, blowing mightily and releasing a shrill into the salted air. The buzzing on deck ceased briefly as all the men stared at him in curious excitement. “Captain on Deck!” yelled Samity, “line up!” A flurry of rustling legs and carefully dropped equipment preceded the lines of men in rapt salute, two columns facing each other across the deck, their eyes focused straight ahead, an occasional rapscallion glancing quickly towards the stairs.
Samity turned his body, the rhythm of his rocking disrupted as he peered down the short staircase. “Ready to meet your men, Cap’n?” he whispered. The Captain nodded his head. Samity turned to his crew. “Men, greet your Cap’n.”
A roar erupted on deck, cheers and clapping from the men, the sea below mimicking their motions as its waves increased their roll. The Captain slowly climbed the stairs, his tri corner hat, elaborately sequined in glittery silvers and reds, peeked above the railing. The cheering subsided slightly as the Captain continued his climb, the hat leading to a floral pattern bandana warpped around robotic fur and a long dog’s snout. The cheering stopped as the Captain’s deep red eyes, platinum teeth, and green coat became visible, his metallic paws emerging from overly ruffled sleeves. The crew and the sea became silent and still as the Captain took his first step on deck, the pleather pants and platform shoes planted firmly on the wood.
Near the back of the column, the furthest crew member spoke out of the corner of his mouth, “The Captain looks pretty gay, even for a pirate.”
Captain Abito turned to the noise, his robotic ears picking up the slight frequency, and snarled. He strutted over to the group, his gait steady and hard, slightly feminine despite its mechanical nature. With a flourish he withdrew his pistols from their holsters at his belt, both guns painted with glitter and light pastel colors. He shot them both in the air and roared to his men, “Time to party.”
Friday, November 30, 2007
Thursday, November 29, 2007
The Cruise of Destiny - Chapter 3: The Guide's Entry or Through the Darkness Into the Light, a Exploration of the Couch
The Guide sat patiently, perched on the edge of the couch, her back perfectly straight. The sun was falling through the window and long shadows stretched over the apartment, which was mostly bare floor. The Guide prided herself on eschewing material possessions, with the exceptions of a coffee table and what she was sitting on.
She reached her long hand out to the table in front of her and picked up a phone. Carefully she dialed. Someone picked up.
The Guide started speaking slowly.
"Do you know why men are like couches?"
The Guide told her story, a tale of cruel love, shattered dreams, and violence.
She finished.
"Ma'am, a patrol car is on its way over there right now. Is your ex-boyfriend still breathing?"
The Guide hung up and placed the phone back on the table. Breathing. She smiled.
She leaned over to his lips and kissed him one last time. When she had stretched his skin to make the couch, the lips ended up on the armrest.
She sat up and reached out to the table to get the gun. It was time to go and help the girl on the beach, the one with the silky legs.
She put the barrel in her mouth and pulled the trigger.
That won't come out, she regretted, a last thought of concern for her favorite piece of furniture.
She reached her long hand out to the table in front of her and picked up a phone. Carefully she dialed. Someone picked up.
The Guide started speaking slowly.
"Do you know why men are like couches?"
The Guide told her story, a tale of cruel love, shattered dreams, and violence.
She finished.
"Ma'am, a patrol car is on its way over there right now. Is your ex-boyfriend still breathing?"
The Guide hung up and placed the phone back on the table. Breathing. She smiled.
She leaned over to his lips and kissed him one last time. When she had stretched his skin to make the couch, the lips ended up on the armrest.
She sat up and reached out to the table to get the gun. It was time to go and help the girl on the beach, the one with the silky legs.
She put the barrel in her mouth and pulled the trigger.
That won't come out, she regretted, a last thought of concern for her favorite piece of furniture.
Wednesday, November 28, 2007
The Cruise of Destiny - Chapter 2: From, the thighs of the fair maiden; From, the finger of the ring portrayer (In Requiem)
where is this place
megan's mind raced as she shifted her long silky legs on the hot dry sand of a beach she did not remember much of the last few hours days months of her life and as a bitter reminder of the past her vagina started to ache from the child she birthed
he came from my vagina
slowly she started to rise as more memories washed up like the surf and she saw killing her grotesque offspring in a fiery barn in the snowy mountains of utah his charred tiny corpse falling into the pure pristine snow of dawn
but what happened to my companion
there was someone else who traveled with her on the journey however the name danced on the edge of her mind the seductive tentacles of recognition teasing her thoughts and if she just concentrated she thought she could remember but she needed to focus focus focus
kate
the name sent her synapses on fire and she once again knew everything about the loyal redhead who helped birth her dead son and laid in her arms on more than one evening hiding from the authorities chasing them for the crime of murder
what happened in the yukon
she saw her companion standing at the edge of the gulch and the mounties around her in a semi circle with their guns drawn and kate looked over at her and she said goodbye with her eyes and leapt into the gaping chasm
i wanted to follow her
the mounties held her back and her screams echoed through the night for her fallen friend and the image of the darkness down below seared itself in her mind and her eyes stung from looking hard for any signs of hope
she was gone
the mounties took her to jail for extradition to the united states but she never went she remembered the jail cell was far away from the guard and no one walked by so there was enough time to twist together the bed sheet and string it over the top bar and join her friend in sleep
am i dead
megan's mind raced as she shifted her long silky legs on the hot dry sand of a beach she did not remember much of the last few hours days months of her life and as a bitter reminder of the past her vagina started to ache from the child she birthed
he came from my vagina
slowly she started to rise as more memories washed up like the surf and she saw killing her grotesque offspring in a fiery barn in the snowy mountains of utah his charred tiny corpse falling into the pure pristine snow of dawn
but what happened to my companion
there was someone else who traveled with her on the journey however the name danced on the edge of her mind the seductive tentacles of recognition teasing her thoughts and if she just concentrated she thought she could remember but she needed to focus focus focus
kate
the name sent her synapses on fire and she once again knew everything about the loyal redhead who helped birth her dead son and laid in her arms on more than one evening hiding from the authorities chasing them for the crime of murder
what happened in the yukon
she saw her companion standing at the edge of the gulch and the mounties around her in a semi circle with their guns drawn and kate looked over at her and she said goodbye with her eyes and leapt into the gaping chasm
i wanted to follow her
the mounties held her back and her screams echoed through the night for her fallen friend and the image of the darkness down below seared itself in her mind and her eyes stung from looking hard for any signs of hope
she was gone
the mounties took her to jail for extradition to the united states but she never went she remembered the jail cell was far away from the guard and no one walked by so there was enough time to twist together the bed sheet and string it over the top bar and join her friend in sleep
am i dead
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
The Cruise of Destiny-Chapter 1: From Wence Doth Thy Come?
Sing to me, O KARLTOR, of the boy and his dog, the chosen Two,
“I grow tired of that old story. Tell me a new one!”
A tale of adventure, the wonder of Karl and the resolve of Abita,
“Put the dog and her brood on a boat. Karl’s boat. Lost at sea!”
Bring their exploits to light, of their quest for redemption, seeking the glory in your name,
“With pirates and robots and talking sharks! With danger and mayhem, anarchy and singing!”
Sing of your people, the discovery of your land, and the Saviors of the Great Spider!
“My Will shall prevail! Let the story begin….”
Now
Karl awoke with a breeze in his hair and a dog’s tail in his face. His lips smacked in the salted air, the dog’s pungent fragrance filling his nostrils. It was bright outside, and warm, a glorious afternoon by most accounts. But he was much too confused to enjoy the moment. He sat up and scratched his head. “Abita, old girl, where in the bloody blazes are we?”
Abita barked, moving her body to face Karl. Sitting on the wooden planks beneath her. Her lips twisting slightly upwards, the faintest trace of a canine grin. She bakred again, a short, sarcastic noise, alluding to the obvious.
“Oh yeah, now I see. We’re on my boat. Brett Favre’s Buoy. I missed you, buddy. How did we get out of the Tucson harbor? Weren’t we in Utah?”
“That you were. But some evil force hath brought thine folk to the sea,” a voice boomed from behind Karl. Karl spun around, leaning on his hands, and peered into the sunlight, slowly processing the face before him.
A calm face stared back, one eye glaring through a coif monocle at him, the other lost behind an eye patch. Stubble in dark patches huddled across his face, tan lines of skin weaving trails between the blotchy clans. In his hand was a long cutlass, rusty to the hilt, curving slightly towards the tip, wavering slightly from a shaking hand, white knuckles protruding from tattered gloves.
“Trevor?” gasped Karl.
“That’s Captain Trevor, to you. And you better mind the helm before we crash into that cruise ship ahead.”
“I grow tired of that old story. Tell me a new one!”
A tale of adventure, the wonder of Karl and the resolve of Abita,
“Put the dog and her brood on a boat. Karl’s boat. Lost at sea!”
Bring their exploits to light, of their quest for redemption, seeking the glory in your name,
“With pirates and robots and talking sharks! With danger and mayhem, anarchy and singing!”
Sing of your people, the discovery of your land, and the Saviors of the Great Spider!
“My Will shall prevail! Let the story begin….”
Now
Karl awoke with a breeze in his hair and a dog’s tail in his face. His lips smacked in the salted air, the dog’s pungent fragrance filling his nostrils. It was bright outside, and warm, a glorious afternoon by most accounts. But he was much too confused to enjoy the moment. He sat up and scratched his head. “Abita, old girl, where in the bloody blazes are we?”
Abita barked, moving her body to face Karl. Sitting on the wooden planks beneath her. Her lips twisting slightly upwards, the faintest trace of a canine grin. She bakred again, a short, sarcastic noise, alluding to the obvious.
“Oh yeah, now I see. We’re on my boat. Brett Favre’s Buoy. I missed you, buddy. How did we get out of the Tucson harbor? Weren’t we in Utah?”
“That you were. But some evil force hath brought thine folk to the sea,” a voice boomed from behind Karl. Karl spun around, leaning on his hands, and peered into the sunlight, slowly processing the face before him.
A calm face stared back, one eye glaring through a coif monocle at him, the other lost behind an eye patch. Stubble in dark patches huddled across his face, tan lines of skin weaving trails between the blotchy clans. In his hand was a long cutlass, rusty to the hilt, curving slightly towards the tip, wavering slightly from a shaking hand, white knuckles protruding from tattered gloves.
“Trevor?” gasped Karl.
“That’s Captain Trevor, to you. And you better mind the helm before we crash into that cruise ship ahead.”
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