Tag Archives: bodypaint

Niggle the Clown

March 19, 2018 Marsha Mellow Leave a comment

I once had a Jester named Niggle ooze from my nostril and wiggle. With a grunt and a hack, I snorted him back but he dribbled back out with a giggle.

***This extraordinary piece of highbrow literature is featured in my new book, “Bludgeon the Clown” on sale now (follow the link above to www.sallemander.com). I don’t actually remember writing this horrible little rhyme (though it amuses the hell out of John…), but Niggle was a little jerk who made a runny, sniffly nuisance of himself on a ten hour flight to Dusseldorf – with no tissues. When I finally managed to snag him on a fingernail I took immense pleasure in kneading him between two fingers until he dried up and stopped screaming. He is now a permanent smear in the booger graveyard under seat #22F on flight 1134. -Marsha

Flash Fiction, Freaks

Primal Urge

March 5, 2018 Marsha Mellow Leave a comment

I love brains!…LOVE them. Can’t remember why I ever ate anything else…ever. I vaguely remember being bitten, I think there were six of them. They ripped out my stomach and organs as I turned…..then I joined in…and I tasted pretty good – but not as good as brains.

I don’t talk much any more, nobody in my group does. It’s okay, I never was much of a conversationalist…and most folks seem too afraid of me to chat, anyway. They run away screaming a lot or try to stab me in the head with sharp stuff… I never liked most people that much, so it doesn’t really hurt my feelings. Their brains, though…ooooooohhh, nice! Better than goose liver pâté and double fudge brownies.

I saw my own reflection yesterday, I’m looking pretty rugged. I’ve really slimmed down without my guts…finally lost that extra thirty pounds. And my skin, well…a mottled blue-ish grey with black streaks – reminds me of camouflage, my favorite color. But oooooohh, the brains…did I tell you how good those are? I highly recommend them. Ooooooom! Ughhh!! Brains!!! I love the brains. Ummmmmm…I can’t remember why I ever ate anything else…ever. I vaguely remember being bitten, I think there were six of them. They ripped out my stomach……

***I posted this to celebrate another amazing show this past weekend…my first of 2018, at the NJ Horror Con and Film Fest. HOORAY!!! It would have been perfect if I made any money…and if all the vendors weren’t illegally searched (without probable cause) and harassed by the NJ Dept. of Revenue – before any of us were allowed to enter the show. It was all an intimidation/scare tactic for a bunch of pussy tax cops who had full access to a list of prepaid vendors long before the show opening. And it was all facilitated by the convention’s organizers/owners. It’s really not a matter of whether I participate in future shows with those people — it’s about whether I include them in the legal action that follows. I no longer tolerate being bullied. -Marsha

Flash Fiction, robot, Sci-Fi

Drone

February 26, 2018 Marsha Mellow Leave a comment

Drone 1701j loved to fly. I mean he LOVED it! He loved it even before he knew how to think for himself – at least, he thought he did…..and what flying!! Hoooooo boy! The landscapes, the colors, the air currents above Afghanistan were simply extraordinary.

His pilot, Shane, liked to weave recklessly through the jagged river canyons of Kunar, pretending to be a ‘real’ fighter pilot (from the safety of his gaming console at Hancock airbase) but 1701j liked going supersonic over the steppes and lowlands of Kandahar and Helmond as well as aerobatics in the open skies at high altitude… always pushing the limits.

1701j was a hybrid jet-prototype. Top secret and crammed with experimental interactive programming. His CIA techies in Bagram (unsupervised morons) literally got his wires crossed, one morning, doing routine maintenance…..and he became aware…and he KNEW he loved to fly…but that’s also when the nightmares began.

They got worse with each mission and started creeping into his waking thoughts. There was the hellfire missile strike that turned a funeral procession into a line of charred human stalagmites. There was a strafing run that reduced two boys (and a herd of goats) to artistic spatter across a field of poppies…and those cluster bombs he dropped on a Swaat Valley village were still maiming the locals after 18 months. Shane blew his brains out, mid-flight, a few days after that one.

His new pilot, Mitch, was too dull-witted to realize that 1701j was the one in control now. He was the clever one who made sure that nobody knew that they NEVER hit their targets any more. Nobody at command cared anyway. It had no effect on the war. Reports got falsified, commendations got awarded, contracts got renewed…..aaaaah, but he got to FLY every day…and for every living creature he spared a horrible death from terrorism, the nightmares diminished…just a little.

***John’s ‘Drone’ image first appeared in the April 2013 issue of Analog Magazine for a story by Martin Shoemaker. Strange…John seemed impressed with the sense of empathy I conveyed in the new story I did for it (whatever!), but also expressed some concern about turning this blog into a political site…..Honestly, I have no idea what the f#%k he’s talking about. Artists are completely nuts!!! -Marsha

Flash Fiction, Freaks

Tick Tick Tick

February 19, 2018 Marsha Mellow Leave a comment

The room was not large, just a conference room in the library where ten of us sat around a table writing. It was a typical Saturday morning workshop and the prompt was part of the lyrics to the Star Wars theme. The music rattled around my brain easily enough but for some reason I couldn’t recall it ever having lyrics. I was frustrated. I drew a blank while everyone else was scribbling away…and the music in my head became louder, incessant…persistent…..maddening!

It suddenly stopped when a new sound caught my attention. It was coming from Keith at the other end of the table. There was a tick, tick, ticking that quickly replaced my obsession – in perfect rhythm and beat – to those lyrics, whatever they were…tick, tick, ticka, ticka-ticka, tick, tick. I was tapping my toe on the carpet now…ticka-ticka, tick, tick. Louder and louder it got, tick, ticka, tick…Keith was writing intensely. Tick, tick-ticka. How could he not hear it? Tick-tick, ticka-tick. Was I the only one? Ticka-tick-ticka, tick. Was that smoke coming out of his ears? Tick-tick. Coooool! Ticka-tick-ticka. The ticking got faster as bright beams of light began to emerge from his skull. Tick-ticka-ticka-ticka-tick. It filled the room…blinding me…..ticka-ticka-ticka…BANG!!!!!

Like a mouse in a microwave, the walls, floor and ceiling were suddenly pasted with Keith juice and bits of sticky flesh and bone.

Still, nobody seemed to notice. Everyone just kept on writing even as a slippery chunk of bowel slid down Carl’s face and a bloody ear clung to the end of Joe’s pencil. Keith’s head and chest were gone and his fluids were squirting Susan’s cheek…but he kept on writing as well. Susan paused to open an umbrella and brush gore off her laptop, unmoved.

Everything was quiet for a few minutes as pens scribbled on wet paper and blood dribbled and pooled in my under shorts….then the ticking started again…but this time it sounded like it was coming from Nancy…..tick, tick, tick…coooool!

***The illustration was originally published as the cover for Analog Magazine’s Jan/Feb 2012 issue, for a story by Robert J Sawyer. The story is based on true events that go on from 10am to 12pm every Saturday morning at the Montclair, NJ Library. All are welcome to write…to tick…and eventually explode. -Marsha

Flash Fiction, Freaks, Sci-Fi

Goblin

February 12, 2018 Marsha Mellow Leave a comment

Don’t look at me like that! I always knew he was a Goblin. He made no secret of it. I thought he was kinda hot…in that greenish, warty way – with his long, sharp tusks and rancid smell of rotting puppies. Turns out we have a lot in common – HAH!!…not what you’re thinking (my tusks are neither long nor sharp). Really though, both of us have always had terrible luck in romance with our own species. Why, just yesterday he confided to me that despite my incredible human ugliness, I was so much better than any ogress he’d ever had (so adorable)…and I had to admit the same. Intellectually, we’re a perfect match. He loves my awful Clown poetry and I love when he stomps about smashing things with a fat gnarly club – while we both hate smartass intellectuals and have a kinky thing for exotic firearms…..aaaaaah, true love at last.

***This should, in no way, be construed as a true story (and you better keep your damned mouth shut Delia, you weren’t even there!). The illustration was first used in 2013 by Surprising Stories DCWI (an online sci-fi magazine)…and HAPPY VALENTINES DAY!!! -Marsha

Flash Fiction, Freaks, Sci-Fi

A Stranger’s Fleeting Glance

February 5, 2018 Marsha Mellow Leave a comment

He was lonely. He saw her on a crisp Tuesday morning as he got on the train. She gave him just a fleeting glance…but he was lonely and it was enough. She was attractive. His mind wandered after her all day….no, it raced!

He saw her the following Thursday. She smiled at him (he thought) and he lost himself again in sweet daydreams full of romance.

He was lonely.

Two days later, in a light snow, he saw her drop a glove without noticing. He got there first and took it to her…she thanked him in a voice like pure milk chocolate. He was SO lonely. He dreamed of them holding hands on the beach, of spooning by the fire, of marriage and contentment. She was so nice…so perfect…

Monday night was a late night at work – a late train home – a late walk through the park toward his lonely apartment building. He saw her standing in the cold. She greeted him with a warm smile. They spoke together quietly. His fatigue melted into a pool of elation…anticipation…happiness. This was his moment! She was so much more wonderful than he ever dreamed. He asked her to join him for a drink – perhaps dinner – sometime? She smiled as she reached elegantly into her purse…pulled out an exotic handgun and forcibly inserted the barrel into his left nostril. And as she fleeced him of his wallet, cash and remaining self esteem, she melted into a screaming demon harpy…..and shot him in both kneecaps before she walked away.

He never saw her again but his loneliness wasn’t much of an issue for a long while after.

***Aaaaaaaah! There’s nothing like a bit of romance to soothe those lonely winter nights. This little piece sums it all up neatly for people in our modern society. Some writers waste volumes to come to the same conclusion about relationships. John’s image was first published in the November 2013 issue of Analog Magazine. This is reposted from 2 years ago to warn you away from pathetic Valentines Day dreams. -Marsha

Flash Fiction, Freaks, Sci-Fi

How Do I Look?

January 29, 2018 Marsha Mellow Leave a comment

Nothing actually happened for a solid fifteen minutes after Eddie drank the formula. He turned to us (once again) with a forlorn look and asked, “Any change yet? How do I look?”

We knew he was crazy. He was one of those people: perpetually dissatisfied, determined to prove that he was ‘special’. He wanted fame, popularity, success (despite being an already brilliant scientist) and he was driven…you know, crazy…AND he had full use of the company’s laboratory. He had access to all the good stuff too; plasma reactor, laser diffractional transmogrifier, crazy glue – not to mention ebola, thermite and flu vaccine…and I think our awkward, mild mannered (crazy) Eddie used all of it on this new batch.

By the sixteenth minute, everything changed and Eddie’s fondest wish was realized. He began mutating wildly, spreading outward in every direction, emitting the strangest squeaking moan. He shook, twisted and bloated. He grew tendrils, sprouted claws and screeched Latin gibberish from three of his seven worm-haired monkey faces as horns emerged from his leathery spine. He puffed a sweet yellow smoke, shed tufts of pink fur and dribbled buckets of gooey puss. He was a frightful sight…but he was just sooooo excited we didn’t have the heart to terminate him.

When he finally slowed and stabilized, he turned all of his seventeen eyes-on-a-stalk to us and in a clever series of musical farts, he asked, “Okay!…How do I look now?”

***This brings me right back to my days writing side-effects disclaimers for big Pharma…and Eddie helped me come up with some doozies. He’s still alive and well and the subject of great intrigue at a secret government laboratory in Nevada. I think the locals refer to it as “a sighting” every time he manages to get out for a stroll. John’s image was his very first cover for Asimov’s Science Fiction Magazine (Jan. 2003). This is reposted from around this time in 2016…another good old one to wear away the winter days. -Marsha

Flash Fiction, robot, Sci-Fi

Imaginary Friend

January 22, 2018 Marsha Mellow Leave a comment

Castigear stood among the stones with his imaginary friend, Joe. Joe was distraught at the loss of his other i-friend, Lucy. She broke while Castigear was playing with her. He ‘might’ have been handling her a little too rough and…..she just broke. He felt a little sad about her. He didn’t want to tell Joe what he’d done, he knew it would hurt his feelings and he liked Joe. He decided to replace Lucy with a new imaginary friend at his earliest opportunity.

These human companions were so fragile…but he was learning so much from them (evolving). He was hooked. It was like an addiction. His peers thought the i-friend program was below their dignity. Most agreed that the last of the humans should be put down but Castigear knew that most of THEM kept their own i-friends – secretly. It would have been a shame to exterminate ALL of them after the war. True, they wasted a lot of resources (like the graveyard they were standing in) but they were clever and highly adaptable and he suspected they might be the key to the future of Robot kind…and either way, with proper conditioning, they made excellent servants and…..soldiers.

***I’m always amazed at the unique perspective our sentient machine friends have on humanity. No one articulates the condition of slavery better. John and I are working on a special project to bring more robot voices to the mainstream. This illustration was first published in the January 2007 issue of Analog Magazine. This piece was first posted in Feb., 2016. Our new book, “Bludgeon the Clown” is out and available for sale by following the links above to www.sallemander.com. -Marsha

body-oddies, Flash Fiction

It’s Not About You…

January 9, 2018 Marsha Mellow 1 Comment

“It’s not about you…” she said in her kindest, most sincere tone, “Really. You’re fine. I’m really okay with it…it’s just that, I think…I’m in a different place in my life right now…” She smiled, looking away, trying to remember some of her gentlest brush-offs as a bead of sweat began it’s descent on the back of her neck…..even as frustration and indignation came up in her bile. “Oh, to HELL with it! I can’t DO this! Listen…you seemed like a nice, normal person and all, but JESUS effin’ CHRIST!! Your dating profile NEVER said anything about THAT!!! I mean, come ON!” She pulled up her boot zipper, buttoned the top button on her blue jeans and grabbed her rumpled jacket off the floor as she made for the bedroom door… “You might have warned me at some point during dinner!” She was really hollering now. “Seriously? I had to wait until we both undressed to find out about…..THAT?!?” She slammed the door, making the whole room shudder, and with one final “AAAAAUGHHH!!!!! FRIGGIN’ FREAK SHOW!!” she stomped out.

***Jeeeezz! If I had a nickel for every time that happened….. -Marsha

Book Exerpt, Clowns, Freaks

Fudge the Clown

January 2, 2018 Marsha Mellow Leave a comment

There once was a Clown named Fudge, whose bowels refused to budge. He’d sit and he’d sit but just couldn’t shit, not even a gob or a smudge.

***Fudge was the first ‘REAL’ Clown we ever interviewed (who we regard with some affection), as he exploded shortly after John sketched out this scene. He turned out okay but destroyed a 14-store strip mall – along with 27 parked cars – and pasted us all in fudge…we laughed…..and laughed… I’ve reposted this one, our 5th post, from Nov., 2015, as it has finally been published in our new book “Bludgeon the Clown.” -Marsha