Category Archives: Book Exerpt

Now That He’s Dead

Now that he’s dead we can mess with his shit.                                             We can dance really loud. We can holler and spit.

We can carry him ’round. We can make him look silly,                     dress him up nice in girly-girl frilly.

We can poke out his eyes. We can cut off his nose,                              twist-off and break all his fingers and toes.

Now that he’s dead we can draw on his skin,                                              give him a Clown face – a big stupid grin.

We can hang him outside for the vultures and beetles,                          shave his whole head and poke it with needles.

We can stuff him or shred him or chop him in chunks,                          then cook him and feed him to hobos and drunks.

Now that he’s dead, he’s starting to rot.                                                   Should we bury him now…or not?

But where is the joy? Where’s all the whimsy?                                   There’s plenty to do while the corpse is still flimsy.

And when he goes stiff and gives off a smell,                                              we’ll set him on fire and send him to hell.

He can’t hurt us now. It’s over and done,                                                           so now that he’s dead…..let’s have FUN!!

***This poem and image comprise the title page for ‘Chapter 6: Death,’ in our third book, “Bludgeon the Clown” which you can find by following the link above to www.sallemander.com., or go right to Etsy and search EEWbooks.   -Marsha

Uprising

Uprising-45

The Clowns rose up in anger one day deciding enough was enough.  They poured out into the streets en masse, yelling and juggling stuff. 

They wanted ‘equal rights’, they said, to be ‘taken seriously’. An end to random giggles and leers. They wanted respect, you see. 

Snarling traffic with mini Clown cars, squirtling flowers and ties,  their strike turned into a riot (of sorts) pelting police with pies. 

They overwhelmed the barricades, storming the walls and ditches and made their way up to capital hill, leaving the cops in stitches. 

But as they breached the chamber doors, their smiles turned into frowns, for the senate was already occupied by Idiots, Mimes and Clowns.

I wrote this piece (and John illustrated it) almost two decades ago.  I thought, for sure, things MUST have changed for the better by now…but no.  Anyway, it finally got published in our third book, “Bludgeon the Clown,” which you can find (and buy) following the www.sallemander.com to our Etsy shop (link at the top), or by going to www.etsy.com, search EEWbooks.  -Marsha

There Must Be Some Mistake

The atmosphere in the ballroom went positively rancid the moment I walked in.  People stopped dancing mid-step.  The band struck a sour chord and shambled into silence.  Drinks spilled.  A waiter dropped a tray of dishes with a loud, lingering clatter.  A woman fainted, hitting the floor with a dull thud.

Everyone in the place turned to look at me as if I had two heads.  Something was ‘off’ about these people; I just couldn’t put my finger on it.

The groom, looking quite put out, detached himself from his bride and strolled elegantly toward me, the tails of his tuxedo brushing the onlookers as they parted to let him through.  He handed me a scrap of paper with the neatly written words: “There must be some mistake” and gestured to a banner over the dais which read: “Congratulations to Headless Charlie and Sue the Body!”

That’s when I realized that it wasn’t my two heads that disturbed them…it was that I was the only freak in the room who had any head at all.

How embarrassing!

***This is from our 4th book, “A Short Burst” a collection of flash science fiction.  Most of what you find in this blog is a light dusting of what you’ll find in our books.  Follow the links above to www.sallemander.com or go to our Etsy shop at www.etsy.com and search EEWbooks.   -Marsha

My Best Foot Backwards

My Best Foot Backwards

     I call my left foot Lefty.  I’ve always called him Lefty.  There’s never been any argument from him and he gets no complaints.  We get along just fine, but the other foot, well…it’s like apples and oranges.

     My other foot calls himself “Backwards.”  I named him Louis but he won’t answer to that.  That one is constant trouble!  Sure, he has better balance and coordination, heck!…if not for him I’d fall flat on my face.  Let’s not even mention my dancing!  But Backwards, even as my best foot, is a hand-full (so to speak).  He likes randomly kicking things, splashing in mud puddles and somehow, always smells of doggy doo.  And “BACKWARDS?”…I don’t even get it.  Why call himself Backwards?!?

     Now, my other-OTHER foot, my right foot…that bastard!  He decided to call himself Backwards TOO!!!  What the hell!?!  I think that one goes out of his way JUST to piss me off (I can hear him giggling now).

     Honestly though, my feet aren’t even the worst of my problems right now…try keeping three wayward hands in check when you’re trying to conquer the world…

***This flash-fiction story and illustration was recently published in our newest book, “A Short Burst.” A rougher version of the image was originally commissioned for the March, 2009 issue of Analog Magazine. Find and buy all our books at our Etsy shop, search EEWbooks. -Marsha

Finger Sandwiches

When I was a kid, my mother offered to make me ‘Finger Sandwiches’ for lunch. She was (batty) always saying weird stuff like that, but this time was different. She was serious, and actually started preparing them in the kitchen while I was still trying to wrap my head around the idea. Who the heck EATS that kind of thing? Who’s fingers were they?…and why would anybody put them on a sandwich? What!! Did we run out of salami and peanut butter? But, when she finally got me to try one, I have to admit, I was pretty disappointed. It tasted like plain old sour cream and cucumber with chives and mayonnaise. No meat? No bones? No finger nails? What the HECK!?! It wasn’t until I was well into puberty that I realized that different parts of the body had different cravings and appetites. Still, I could never understand the appeal of ‘Baby Food’ or ‘Arm Candy,’ and the only thing ‘Food for Thought’ ever seemed to produce was an overabundance of ‘Head Cheese,’ which is nauseating to think about in any context. Do you really want a ‘Hand Shake?’…are you SICK??? When I finally met these guys (above), on their lunch break, a few years ago, I suddenly understood it all. I felt like everything in the universe had fallen right into place and it now made perfect sense…sorta.

***I’m messing about, here, with a rough draft for the opening/intro of our new book, “Body-Oddies.” It’s also the second post in our ‘Food Art’ series, to see if people can be enticed into liking SKETCHES of weird food as much as they like photos of the weird food that John (the illustrator) actually makes. So far it’s not going so well. People still seem to prefer real food images. A version of this image, “Finger Sandwiches,” will definitely be in the book. Meanwhile, you can find and buy all our illustrated books and merch at www.etsy.com (search: EEWbooks). -Marsha

Not Again…

Hans discovered that he could speak                                                                   with a bear who turned up in his flat last week,                                            as once he got past his initial dread,                                                                     he understood all that he said.                                                                                They hit it right off, like lickety-split,                                                                   just laughing and joking and shootin’ the shit…                                             ’till the bear got hungry and ate his head                                                         and now poor Hans is dead.

Not Again…

“Oh man…not again.” said Francis under his breath, as Martin, his room-mate, stood over him, drooling.

His attack was so swift that Francis barely had time to flinch before being stuffed forcibly into Martin’s toothy maw and swallowed whole.

Francis knew he had a little time to think before the digestive process of Martin, who was a fully grown polar bear, kicked into gear, pushed him along it’s hour-long journey, and shat him out again.  And really, what had begun as a quiet time for meditation was slowly turning sour as he wondered, more and more, if this little trip was really worth it.

He acknowledged that this WAS in his rental agreement, but seriously!  When would Martin develop some self control with his munchies and go make himself a peanut butter sandwich or something?  Everybody knew how bad the housing market was, and it was only getting worse, but this ‘fantastic journey’ through the body of a giant circus performer, twice a week, was really not worth affordable rent.  He’d had some horrible roommate’s before, but this one was starting to take the cake…uh oh…here we go…..  “Yeaaahhhhgh!!!” PFLOOP!  “Oooooh, yuck!

***A version of this illustration was originally commissioned in B/W for a story in Analog Magazine back in 2008.  It was slated to be republished in our Bludgeon the Clown book with the poem about Hans, but the publisher cut it…it was perfectly good, but not for THAT project.  Now, along with a new short flash-fiction story (inspired by the art), it has been published in our new book, A Short Burst. You can find ALL our books at our Etsy shop by going to www.etsy.com and searching EEWbooks.   -Marsha

Imaginary Friend

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.  A version of this illustration was first published in the January 2007 issue of Analog Magazine.  This flash-fiction short was first posted here in Feb., 2016.  You can read it and more like it in our latest book, “A Short Burst” which is available for sale by following the links above to www.sallemander.com. or go right to our Etsy shop at www.etsy.com and search EEWbooks.    -Marsha

Jonny Bot 5

Jonny Bot 5 got horny and hot                                                                                 for a high fashion mannequin girl (who did NOT!).                              Classy and fine, Jonny loved her a lot,                                                              she turned up her nose…a high minded snot.                                                  He brought wild flow’rs by the bunch, by the pot,                                   tried candy, tried gems, read poems – what ROT!                                      But kindness in turn Jonny 5 never got,                                                           not an ounce, not a peck, not even a jot.                                                       Tried…..and tried ’till his brains were quite shot                                        until finally…Jonny went cold……and forgot.

***This image and poem is from our book, “Bludgeon the Clown” (buy it by following the links, above, to my site www.sallemander.com).  When we met Jonny Bot 5 he was already retired from the department store and well beyond his bad marriage with the mannequin…but was now engaged in a sordid online sex thing with Siri the phone chick…it was…well, lets just say ‘I wish I could un-see some things.’  I think John got some good sketches of them during the interview but our publisher (EEW Books) censored all but this one.   -Marsha

U.S.A.

Democrat?  Republican?  Who can fuckin’ tell?                                          Red state, Blue state?  Die and go to Hell!                                                    Argue ’bout it all you want, knock each other out.                                 ‘Right-Left’ bullshit ain’t what its about.

***This is such an easy re-post! This image is an excellent metaphor for a criminally inactive American government in the fatal, final decline of late-stage capitalism (yes, both parties and all three branches). A police state, during a global pandemic and environmental disaster, a corporate oligarchy with unchecked greed, graft and stupidity rotting away the core of the richest empire on Earth, with the most gigantic army…history shows us the fate of nations that become so weak.

This image was first published in 2015, in our first book, “Marsha Mellow’s Blue-ish Freaks.” You can find our first four books (and BUY them) by following the links to our Etsy shop, or go to etsy.com and search EEWbooks. -Marsha

Covid 19

***At this point, about 6 months into the Covid 19 pandemic, America leads the world in petty, childish, stupidity. With 4% of the world’s population, we have 25% of known cases and deaths (MAGA!!!). The governors of 40 out of 50 states are seeing record high spikes in cases – more than 50,000 a day and rising. They are failing to heed the instructions of medical and science experts as well as follow the success of northeastern states and numerous countries already suppressing the plague. Instead, governors play politics and take their direction from the corporate ruling class.

Meanwhile, the entire federal government has been criminally useless. With no clear leadership from region to region, whole swathes of our population don’t “believe” there is a pandemic, despite almost 3 million cases and over 130,000 dead (Praise Jesus!!!), or that by wearing a simple mask and social distancing we could bring it under control. Having funneled upwards of 4 trillion dollars of aid to the richest corporations, the feds have left the rest of us to fend for ourselves. America is the greatest corporate oligarchy in the universe! …but just wait ’till global warming kicks into full stride. We live in interesting times. -Marsha