Potty Mouth

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 Toenail.

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

 

 

Open Mike

Mike stood on stage in the spotlight…terrified. But, something about it seemed to be working for him.  They probably found his trembling voice charming as he spoke sincerely about his life…his completely bizarre, absolutely strange, totally unlikely life…and the cynical way it came across.  The crowd laughed at the tragic death of his wife in a mundane laundry incident.  They howled at how the wind blew her ashes into everybody’s mouth at the funeral.   And the five-day-old lasagna in a broken fridge, leading to a vivid conversation with Lucifer, left them in stitches.  Every word he spoke, every glib anecdote, felt like a hole being ripped open in his soul, allowing his demons to spill out – only to be consumed and obliterated in the laughter of the audience…and when it was over, Mike stood open and bloody and spent and…..completely relieved.  It was better than therapy, better than liquor or sex or CHOCOLATE.  And he walked off stage to a standing ovation feeling light as a feather.

***We’ve posted this one before.  It’s one of our favorites (well, the writing is good, the bloody mess that John, the illustrator did still makes me queasy), and is an excellent final post with which to end the year 2019.  It was a great year for us at EEW Books.  We got to do a lot of travelling, saw a lot of old friends and did more book shows than expected.  We published our fourth book, “A Short Burst,” with our fifth book, “Body-Oddies,” close on it’s heels (to be published early in 2020).  As always, find our stuff and buy it at www.sallemander.com or go to Etsy.com and search EEWbooks.   -Marsha

Santa Claws

Santa Claws ALWAYS loved children.                                                               He loved when they sat on his lap,                                                                   and always invited his favorite to lunch                                                     with a snip and a snickety snap!                                                                          He loved them with soup, loved them with rice                                     and sautéed with wine was fun.                                                                           He loved them roasted in gravy and yams                                                      or with mustard and cheese on a bun.

***Happy Christmas!!!  I hope your silly capitalist buying frenzy went swell.  When you’ve gotten your blood sugar back down and finished all your frivolous boxing and returns – and have some extra cash again – pop by our Etsy shop (go to etsy.com and search EEWbooks) for some gifts you’ll never WANT to return.   -Marsha

Complicit in his Own Death

Henry Higgenbottom had an amazing talent. Welllll, maybe not so amazing as, lets say, ‘quirky’.  You see, Henry could “headstand”.  Yeah,  not so amazing…but since nobody else could ever do it quite like him, it kinda became his ‘thing’.  And despite all practical advice. he ‘did’ the crap out of his ‘thing’.  He became a minor local celebrity (oddity), got his fifteen minutes of fame on the T.V. news and bartered that into a stint on the state carnival circuit which propelled him into a pretty good gig with a circus sideshow troupe as a ‘Tumbling Contortionist’.  All things considered, however, his convulsive hiccuping act usually stole the spotlight (and all the laughs) and made his ‘headstand’ gimmick look pretty dull.  But Henry never gave up on it.  It was his own unique gift to the world, a sacred piece of his very soul and he made sure it was part of every show he did…..until one day he accidentally mixed his hiccups with his ‘headstand’ and SO disrupted his specially balanced stance that he snapped his own ridiculous neck.

***Everyone, and I mean EVERYONE who has seen the image above seems to think it has some political meaning – perhaps implying the state of the nation or of the American voting public… Bollocks and drivel!  It is no such thing.  Read the post!  Its nothing more than a tragic fragment of an ambitious loser.  We don’t do politics in this blog!

Meanwhile, finish your holiday shopping with a trip to our Etsy shop (just go there and search EEWbooks)…OR you can follow the links to our website – which will bring you straight to our Etsy shop any way.    -Marsha  

Cockeyed

Talking to a Cock

I guess I was a little drunk.  I was definitely over stimulated.  The boardwalk carnival at night was an intoxicating menagerie of sound and light, of beautiful bodies still in their skimpy beach-wear, smelling of sweat and suntan lotion, of sweet and salty junk food, deep-fried, slathered in cheese.  I wandered like a leaf on the breeze, my bare feet barely touching the wood.

The hawkers, luring people into sideshow attractions, were on fire tonight.  Business was booming at the Snake Boy house; patrons screamed in anguished pleasure.  The Winged Pigs, The Dragon Lady and Six Jesters Conjoined had long, eager lines waiting.  But the one which caught my eye was the only booth whose crier didn’t look like an ancient cigar-chomping sticky-pocketed circus clown with mirrored shoes.  SHE was a sultry middle-aged woman with curves and lumps and hair and eyes that melted my…bones.  It’s probably why I didn’t read the sign on the booth properly – or even care.  I just handed her my money and walked in.

There on the podium, in the center of a dark room with red satin curtains, stood a raging red COCK!

NO…I mean, it was a red rooster with bright flaming plumage.  The other people in the room sat on benches around the bird, enthralled.  I stood for a long moment, puzzled and awkward…until the cock looked over at me and said, “Take a seat there, Sparky, I’m just getting started,” in a voice that sounded remarkably like Noam Chomsky.

You know…I may have misheard the writing prompt today…What?  OH!!!  “Talking to a Cop”…Yeah, I don’t talk to cops.

***The image is “Cockeyed,” a Body-Oddy for our next book, “Body-Oddies.”  The story was recently published on page 58 of our latest book, “A Short Burst”…which you can find at our Etsy shop (search EEWbooks), or follow the links above to our site, which will bring you to our Etsy shop anyway.   -Marsha

Face Page

***”Face Page” is only a rough sketch.  It comes with no short story or clever rhyme.  It was designed to be the inside cover page for our new book, “Body-Oddies.”  John sat down in a lawn chair one warm Saturday afternoon and drew this as is, in one steady shot, without interruption or revision (something HE thinks we’re all supposed to be impressed with).  If you go to www.sallemander.com or to our Etsy shop (etsy.com) and search EEWbooks, you’ll find the final version of this image -in GREEN – used as banner art.  We also sell 11×14 prints of it at the comic cons, sci-fi cons and book festivals we attend.   -Marsha

Nose Hare

You’re welcome to pet him.  Just pet him, I say.                                       He’s never too sticky.  He’s really okay.

He’s just a wee hare, who lives up my nose.                                          SOME people aren’t very keen about those.

I don’t really know, I don’t really care,                                                           how he got in, or from where.

We’re best friends now.  BEST friends I said!                                            And if you don’t like it I’ll rip off your head.

So, go fuck yourself.  Fuck off, I say.                                                                  Just leave us alone.  GO AWAY!!!

Oh…oh my goodness.  You see that?  Wow!                                                   He WANTS you to pet him.  So, PET him…NOW!!!

***Another new one for our Body-Oddies book, which we’re finishing for publication early next year.   -Marsha

Baby Fat

This one is always hungry.                                                                                    That one’s ready to scream.                                                                                  This little one, below, with a rash                                                                            is allergic to diaper cream.                                                                                            I can’t get this one to sleep,                                                                                    but that ones usually sweet.                                                                            Either way, I can’t get a break.                                                                               I’m tired.  I’m hungry.  I’m beat.                                                          Sometimes they’re ALL in a tantrum,
or all have to vomit at once.                                                                                   I’ve got to get rid of this baby fat.                                                                            I don’t think I’ve slept in months.

***A rough sketch and poem for a new new illustrated book, “Body Oddies,” which  we’re finishing up for publication next year.  Find all four of our books and other stuff at our Etsy shop, just follow the links above to our site, www.sallemander.com, or search EEWbooks on Etsy .com.   -Marsha

First Contact

(book excerpt)

The Masset met the Earth delegation on their own carrier deck, looking formal and engaged, as if this was their actual ‘first contact’ with Earthers.  They knew better.  Admiral Geller noticed how big and beefy this group of humans was, better than average (his clients would be pleased).  Their encounter suits were unarmed, clearly diplomatic, which was a good sign.

It was inevitable that the Earthers would detect the Masset at some point.  Still, Geller was disappointed.    He had hoped to exploit them for a few more decades.  He was getting very rich.  Hopefully only a change of tactics would be necessary.

With a gesture, Geller invited the Earthers inside, but they insisted on the formalities (it was a really big deal – for them).  Their ambassador introduced himself as Colonel Smith and welcomed them to the Terran Solar System,  tediously explaining that they called their world Earth but that we were all currently orbiting Jupiter.  He offered the esteemed greetings of a long, boring list of political, corporate, and religious luminaries, and with a load of bows and flourishes he droned on through the standard diplomatic script.  Geller responded as expected.  This Col. Smith was testing his patience, but he and his warriors knew the drill…nothing was to happen until everyone was inside.

That’s when he heard Smith say something very odd; “…and thank you Admiral Geller.  The people of Earth thank you personally for all the advanced technology you’ve been sending us…”  And every Masset warrior switched-on to full alert.  This was not what Geller had expected to hear today…but just then his earpiece came alive with the clutter of proximity alerts and his senior officers barking frantic orders. Meanwhile, an Earther ship was de-cloaking just above them.

According to the Rhee Republic, Earth was off -limits.  It was illegal to land there or to fly within the orbital proximity of Jupiter.  Humanity was considered an “emerging culture.” It was either on the brink of advancing to eventually join the Republic…or of catastrophic self-destruction.  Quarantined.

The Masset, however, had commerce to conduct and orders to fill.  They were a diverse culture, but elements of it controlled the Republic’s vast black-market trade cartel…and some people had a taste for Earthers.  The Veen used humans for slave labor, the Binnish used them as lab rats for biomedical research, and the Lumia just found them delicious.  Apparently, enough Earthers had been abducted over the centuries for a strong market demand to develop…and the Masset owned the franchise (for which all Masset benefited).

On the other hand, the Masset were in good standing with the Rhee Republic.  They had helped to repel the last three military invasions, had powerful advanced technology, and were influential in Republic politics… so they had no wish to upset the balance.

That’s why Admiral Geller (who was only a legal consultant at the time), came up with a clever solution around the quarantine law.  Since they couldn’t go to Earth to harvest humans, they would have to ‘lure’ them off-world.  It wasn’t strictly legal, but it would work (and it did for a good long while).

Geller labored for decades, secretly transmitting propaganda to maintain division between Earth’s nation states, while feeding them choice bits of advanced technology to get them off the ground and into space, to explore and colonize.  So, when they started leaving the quarantined area in really profitable numbers, the Masset were there to intercept and abduct them…and nobody was the wiser.

In retrospect, Geller might have miscalculated the adaptability of the Earthers.  He’d never thought them intelligent enough to apply and integrate the technology he sent, into all the different alien ships and technology abandoned on Earth over the centuries.  He certainly had NOT counted on them outmaneuvering him…in an ambush.  Perhaps the Masset had become complacent…

In the time it took for the Earther ship to de-cloak overhead, Admiral Geller had a few additional thoughts:  First, he had never actually given Colonel Smith his name…curious.  Second, the Masset were the only culture with cloaking technology.  Hmmm…and third…wait.  Were those jet-packs they were wearing?

“Thanks again, Geller…” said Colonel Smith, “and have a nice day!”  And on his order, the entire Earth delegation lifted off the deck in perfect formation toward their ship above….and as it pulled away, Geller saw the first of an impressive flight of earth missiles de-cloak before slamming into his ship’s broadside.  As to Geller’s third and final thought, he said, “The Earther MISSILES are cloaked too?  How clever!!!”

***We posted this image a few years ago, but the story is new and written especially for our new book, “A Short Burst.”  It’s one of the longer stories, almost two whole pages.  Burst is a clever compilation of illustrated flash science fiction.  Find it at our Etsy shop (search EEWbooks) or by following the links above to www.sallemander.com…which will take you to our Etsy shop.   -Marsha