Tag Archives: bodypaint

Too Many Cooks in the Kitchen

Phlegm-the-Clown-24 

Food was scarce.  People were struggling.  The war was taking it’s toll as there were shortages of everything from fuel to toilet paper to empathy.  Rationing was severe and people were showing signs of stress.  There was unemployment, hunger and daily violent protests against the government who caused this blowback war after decades of capitalist conquest.  There was no sign of improvement on the horizon and…..food was scarce.

Leon’s Bar and Grill, however, seemed to be an exception to the misery. Leon, the proprietor, had a brilliant (desperate) idea a few months back when he realized he had too many cooks in the kitchen and not enough food to serve.  Seeing his business on the brink of failure, he did the only logical thing;  He ‘fired’ all his cooks and took over in the kitchen personally.  He posted a new menu featuring ‘Chef’s specials’ like Chef’s Stew, Chef Pot Pie and Roasted Leg of Chef.  He fired them all… in the big convection oven (though a few got deep fried, stewed…or grilled…..and one guy got sautéed in a wok) and his business has been thriving ever since.

Funny thing, though…once he solved his cook problem, he settled an old issue with that annoying waitress, Marge and finally took care of that pesky neighborhood Clown who always annoyed his customers as they came and went.

These days, ‘Leon’s’ is the only establishment in town with a ‘Help Wanted’ sign in the window…and I hear the food’s really good.

***We thought a little cannibalism this week would be a welcome break from what has become the norm in America;  Illegal war, torture, kidnapping, rape, assassination, terrorism, corruption,  usury, inequality and a massive political freak show.  Hmmmm…..eating people’s got nothin’ on the U.S. gov’t. – so, bon appetit!  -Marsha

 

Belly Button

belly-button-22

Toby had a belly button…a freakish big red one right in the center…and he was threatening to use it, too.  He showed up at the White House during a political fundraiser demanding an audience and got laughed out of the place.  Fox News picked up on the incident and made a giant “News Alert” stink, convincing their entire dull eyed, drooling American television audience that he was legit – and that he’d press the button and unleash the demons of nuclear hell (or whatever) if they didn’t do what he said.

Well, that was it.  The world ended as we knew it (and it really backfired on Fox who figured he was their puppet).  Toby brought an end to all wars and banned usury (which pretty much ruined capitalism).  He stopped fossil fuel use and forced everybody to respect the environment…and that was just for starters.  And every time he rested his pudgy finger on that big red button, the world went into a panic.  He bullied everybody on Earth into being….. better…OR ELSE!!!

Huh!  Wish I had thought of that.

***Is Toby a terrorist?  Yeah, technically.  Is he a “bad guy”?  Well, not in two paragraphs…but power goes hand in hand with corruption and tyranny, so it’ll get there eventually…it always does.  On a happier note, we have advance copies of our new book “Marsha Mellow’s Blue-ish Freaks”.  We’re already selling them to friends, let us know if you’re interested and can’t wait for the new website (w/ paypal) to get one.  -Marsha  

Can’t take it with you

Liam-15

We stood at the intersection looking down on the body – hit by a bus…how ridiculous!  After all the times I’d stopped people on their stupid phone gadgets from walking into traffic…now this?  I must have been daydreaming…what an idiot!

Cars were still swishing through the scene while a small crowd of cynical bystanders gathered to make snarky comments in hushed voices (as if they might offend me).  The police arrived to push the crowd away and redirect traffic.  One of them walked right through me…uugh!  Weird!!  I shuddered. My companion just grinned.

I felt some regret.  It was a good body for a middle aged clown.  I’d kept it fit and healthy – not too bad looking, either…but now it was broken and mangled.  There were scattered bits of gristle and a thick dark liquid splashed across the asphalt.  One of my eyes hung by a thread down my cheek and my skull was split wide open like a busted watermelon – but hey,  I always wondered what my own brains looked like….Eeeeew!!!…(Cool!)

My companion stepped over to me with a ‘we should go soon’ attitude.  I must say, for a scythe wielding hippy weirdo in a medieval bathrobe, he seemed like a decent chap.  He was good enough to give me time to adjust.  Finally, with a friendly clap on the shoulder he whispered, “Come along, son.  You can’t take it with you…”  We turned away and began walking off into the ether.

“Hey Grim!” I said, “You think I’ll come back as a sea slug or a tapeworm?  I hope not…maybe I could be a hockey puck!  Yeah!…That’s where all the action is…”  He shook his head and rolled his eye sockets.  “Hey, can you introduce me to Jesus?  No…ELVIS!!!…..Yeaaaah!”

***My little fiction aside, Liam the Clown did his best work squashed like a bug.  Not much of a song-and-dance guy, Liam’s twitchings had an artsy aesthetic.  Anybody who knows anything about Clowns, knows they’re incredibly hard to kill, so Liam never met Jesus – or Elvis but he and Grim became pretty close.  -Marsha

Constant Craving

constant craving-13

“Constant gravy!!…or did he say constant craving!?” but everyone was already writing and the professor’s response was garbled…sure, okay, constant gravy seemed right.  I was feeling pretty woozy since I cut myself shaving earlier and couldn’t make it stop bleeding.  It just gushed, thick and goopy…yeah, constant gravy…coool!

What began as a simple nick under my nose, got worse a few minutes later when blood started running down my cheek.  An hour later, it was dripping copiously.  In two hours it was a steady flow and by lunchtime I was squirting all over the place, soaking my clothes, the furniture and painting the walls.  It was impossible to concentrate as the room kept spinning faster and faster…..

I must have spaced out for a while because when I woke, the stuff leaking out was no longer red.  Thankfully it was just cheese wizz leaking from the push nozzle on my head.  What?!…don’t you have a nozzle?…and what’s so weird about that?  Best of all, the harder I pumped the thicker it flowed…aaaaah, pretty…..

I must have spaced out for a while…..what was I saying?…

***This really happened.  Its lucky that John got a good sketch of this guy at the writing workshop before things went sideways.  This post is a shortened version of the story…but we didn’t want to give away all the best parts before we publish it in our BODY-ODDIES book.  -Marsha

Jack in the Box

jack in the box-11

Jack the Jester lived in a box                                                                             ’cause he had no legs or feet                                                                                   and liked popping out of his box -SURPRISE!!                                                -to frighten the children…NEAT!                                                                             He loved young children most of all,                                                                     so innocent, kind and sweet.                                                                                  The crunchier ones always tasted best                                                             but the chubby ones had more meat.

***Aaaaah, for some reason this one always makes me think of Christmas;  Mindless shopping, mall traffic, gaudy decorations, gluttony and crass consumerism (that should have been the title).   Mmmmmm…and every year it just gets better and better.  -Marsha

Niggle

niggle-image-01I 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.

***I don’t remember ever writing this horrible little rhyme (though it amuses the hell out of John…).  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 great 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 aisle seat #22F on flight 1134.  -Marsha

Goblin

goblin-image-08

Don’t look at me like that!  I knew he was a Goblin all along.  He made no secret of it.  I thought he was kinda hot…in that greenish, warty way – with long, sharp tusks and the 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, we found that we both have 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 both 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.  -Marsha

Drone

drone-image-07

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 were getting 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 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.  Strange…he seemed impressed with the sense of empathy I conveyed in the story (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