At first we thought all the babies blew up. We found them that way in the morning. They’d suddenly grown to enormous size! We had no idea…no warning.
Well, people freaked out. They lost their minds, (and some of us got really drunk), but didn’t take TOO long to understand, that THEY didn’t grow…..WE SHRUNK!!!
They called it ‘Body Piercing.’ It was very rare, very risky…for both the acrobat and the victim. Frisbee the Bouncer contemplated the origins of the maneuver he had just failed to properly execute. Willy the Clown (the victim) was finally settling down a bit, allowing Frisbee some time to think: you see, audiences had gotten bored with traditional tumbling and acrobatics, even parkour had lost it’s charm…free-runners traversing buildings, flipping and spinning across rooftops and bridge rafters, bouncing about from car to car in midtown traffic…I mean, it’s not as if everybody could do it nowadays, but people got bored seeing it all the time.
New ideas evolved to shock and awe the masses, each more extreme, risky…deadly. The ‘Tongue In Cheek’ was already banned in 17 states, the ‘Cockeyed Cock’ was responsible for 3 temporary deaths, 12 online divorces and 41 spontaneous abortions (in Tennessee alone)…then came ‘Body Piercing.’ It was like a grizzly car crash on the turnpike that you can’t help staring at. Frisbee recalled that the most difficult part was the need to make an entrance (not what you’re thinking). How does an acrobat bounce right through the center of an unsuspecting victim’s body (without using an existing entrance – or exit?). Well, Frisbee was quite certain he had it all figured out…but…..well, look at the picture!
Willy the Clown went quickly from surprise to horror, screaming bloody murder for 30 minutes straight…now he was just pissed off at Frisbee, who kept mumbling, “That should have worked!…Why didn’t that work?” over and over and over.
Somebody call an ambulance…!?!
***I wrote this piece last week, sitting out in my new back yard, atop the loveliest snowdrift in the midnight sun, watching the flying reindeer dogfight overhead. I’m so happy in my vacation house at the North Pole. The image is a raw, red, rough sketch for my “Body-Oddies” book. The publisher refuses to let us post any final artwork until the release date (tentatively May 1). Meanwhile you can find our first 4 books for sale by following the links to my website or at our Etsy shop (search EEWbooks). -Marsha
Something in the smell wafting from the bathroom told me that things were going badly. The crap being shouted was definitely not appropriate for television. Negotiations had broken down and a strike was well underway. Worse, the strikers were in open revolt, flinging their sacred deposits all over the walls and ceiling. The trust between us was broken. Innocents were soiled, and who knew if the scars would ever heal, but all that was secondary to the fact that…I had to go. I REALLY had to go — BAD!
Shamefully, and in typical corporate fashion, I snuck out to the back yard, found a tree and used it like the primitive monkey I was. Disgusting. Yes, I’d found a cheap scab replacement to the striking toilet — but I just couldn’t hold out any longer…ugh! I felt dirty.
I say, give the strikers whatever they demand before this gets any worse and we have a REAL shit storm on our hands…our shoes… our trousers…..
***Another raw, rough-sketch teaser from our new book, “Body-Oddies”, which will be our 5th. John is finishing the illustrations and arrangement/design while I finish the writing (for a May release). After that, we’ll be off travelling around the country on tour, attending book fests, comic cons and sci-fi cons to peddle our wares like medieval hucksters, bringing literary joy to our impoverished country. Find us on Etsy.com by searching EEWbooks when you get there. -Marsha
I am Joe’s big left toe nail. See me soar through the air like a demented boomerang. I know not where I shall land but I’ll probably miss the trash bin because Joe’s ability to aim the stuff he spits out is for shit.
I guess Joe finally got tired of my glorious reign, as master of all I surveyed, at the tip of his big toe. I must have threatened his manhood (or ruined the tips of too many socks). He once tried to clip me with a fingernail trimmer but I valiantly resisted – and broke it! So he got pissed off, sat down on the toilet, and ripped me right off with his teeth.
I say, ‘Good riddance to Joe!’ I shall become king of all the gross stuff next to his overflowing trash can, as I can see that I am already the mightiest of all the toe nails there and shall rule for all eternity, since Joe is far too lazy to clean his friggin’ bathroom, which smells like the squeaky ass end of a dead rhinoceros on a hot, sunny day.
***We have the cult classic, “Fight Club” to thank for the inspiration for this flash-fiction fragment. It originated as a prompt in our Saturday ‘Free-Write’ workshop with the Montclair NJ Write Group. I pilfered the red rough “Finger Nails” sketch from our Body-Oddies book. It doesn’t exactly fit…but kinda does, in a really cool way (according to John, the illustrator). Body-Oddies will be our 5th book and will be out early this year (as soon as John finishes the friggin’ illustrations!!!). -Marsha
