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Kleptomaniac With A Gun

Jan 26, 2012 • 2 comments • 885 views
Huge

 

 

I laughed at the kids hanging round the door frame, showed them a card of mine that read, 'Will Ranks – Suave Bastard, Cheese Runner & Decorator of Outside Spaces'. They howled out the cats and told me to piss off. I found a bus stop that really went with my eyes, good place to hole up for a few hours. Snap to grid.

 

The grid snapped and I loitered with a hell of a lot of intent, so much so that I found myself completely enraptured with my own actions and completely forgot what I was intent on doing, so I just dicked around until Simon Napse showed up. Collecting my thoughts I realised I hadn't seen Si since the days in La Fayette. Things were going to get weird.

 

“Your head is filled with water” screamed Si. “I've broken all my promises to myself”

 

at this point a bus rolls into the stop a bit like the PlayBus one but strictly meta-fictional. It rolls out again having brought absolutely fuck all to the scene

 

Calm down Si, It will all come out in the wash.”

 

I knew I was lying, the trouble with Si is he has no concept of self reliance. He literally has no concept of how to function within the world, he's a fucker and he knows it! I threw him some gravity and watched his eyes glaze over. I didn't need this bus stop anymore.

 

I laughed at the kids hanging round the door frame, showed them a card of mine that read, 'Will Ranks – Suave Bastard, Cheese Runner & Pipe-Cleaner Architect'. They tortured a cat in front of me until I was sick in it. I found a bus stop that extenuated my cheekbones, good place to look for my partner. Snap to grid.

 

The grid snapped and I gave way to oncoming traffic. My partner Si Napse showed up and alienated the Newtonians who were admiring his strong gravitational pull and off-colour tweed jacket. He caught my arm and troubled me for a cigarette, I produced an un-opened packet of 'Junkline' and we doused them with flame.

 

Your body is 78% water” breathed Si. “Do you remember La Fayette?”

 

at this point a bus rolls into the stop a bit like the one from The Simpsons but red and with an accordion bit in the middle. It splashes water from a puddle onto the main characters shins and waits patiently

 

Calm Down Simon, the next one will be ours.” I coo reassuringly.

 

I know I'm lying, the bus is always different but the set up is always the same. I watch as Si tries to remember he is not self reliant but he wants to be. He's a beautiful, tortured soul and he doesn't even know it! I turn away from him hoping he'll go away but I know Si Napse and the bus will always be there when I need them.

 

I laughed at the kids and spat in one of their faces whilst I set fire to the door frame, I cut one of their faces with a card that read, 'Will Ranks – Suave Bastard, Cheese Runner & Corporeal Dentist'. One kid threw a cat at me but I stepped on it's neck before it could unsheathe any claws. I found the bus stop which was tailored to me, I sat down and sparked a fag. Snap to grid.

 

 

The grid snapped and I barely noticed it, deciding instead to focus my gaze on the fictitious puddles made of cling-film. The cardboard bus stop wobbled precariously as I leant against it and produced two cigarettes awaiting the inevitable Mr. Napse. He arrived nonchalantly and told me he'd given up a year ago. His every move cut the air like a scalpel.

 

The earth is nearly 80% water” exclaimed Si, “I'm dying of physics”

 

At this point a bus pulls into the scene it looks like a bus drawn by a child, all boxes and circles without diameters. Keen eyes in the front row will notice the wheels aren't even touching the ground

 

We need to focus our minds Si” I holler, “Let's list all the dishes that would need Parsley, Sage, Rosemary & Thyme altogether.”

 

I'm aware I am lying. There are no dishes that would need all those flavours at once, unless you're in a dream or high, which Tom & Jerry probably were. I watch as Si's eyes concentrate on the equation, concentrated concentric circles of clarity clinging to the cosmos whilst a cat cries as children use it's claws to cut a cavity in it's cranium. I've forgotten all 26 letters. I need help. I can feel the world replenishing as I speak, the bus has started appearing so often it arrives as it pulls away, the elliptical loop of my life is skipping in it's groove. TAKE THE FUCKING NEEDLE OFF!

 

I laughed at the kids hanging round the door frame, showed them a card of mine that read, 'Will Ranks – Suave Bastard, Cheese Runner & Decorator of Outside Spaces'. They howled out the cats and told me to piss off. I found a bus stop that really went with my eyes, good place to hole up for a few hours. Snap to grid.

 

The grid snapped and you all got up and left the theatre, you voyeuristic vultures watching my tragedy unfold and offering no help at all. Do you think gravity doesn't apply to fiction? Did you think when you stopped watching everything ceased to be? Fiction is not like a tree falling in the forest when nobody is around. Fiction breathes, I breathe, Simon Napse breathes. When you leave the theatre, the cinema or close the pages of a book think about the ongoing opera of lives never-ending, think about the millions of tortured souls and incessant hours of pain your entertainment is made up of. We bleed for fiction, what do you do?

 

Snap the fuck to grid.

Comments
I. Love. This.
01.26.12 •
Have to come up with a new meta-award.
01.26.12 •
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