''Stirrings''
<==>
A young city soul singer produced a string of flags and held them high. Such a widespread uprising of the common people was served with cups of tea by local residents. He was delighted of course. A great wave of enthusiasm swept with enthusiasm. They took the fortress of Nicaea into a few small companies. They sat on a motor-jigger because of a shortfall in funding for support groups. The first crusade was suspended until further instructions. A fierce Turkish people told you they were telepathic and so much closer to God, travelling at full steam. It was only then that I noticed their most famous rivals. They brought the personal conscience face to face with God. The rest of the play was hard but clean. Certainly, this first stirring of democracy drew more than forty-five thousand wildly enthusiastic fans, but before very long we shall find it stirring again.
''Conflicting Emotions on Scraps of Cement''
<==>
Housework seemed to offer the only outlet for small-time toughs who wanted to see their mates disfigured with a mortifying haircut. Not so far from the fireplace Mary-Ann saw hand carved ivory chessmen waiting under the clock in columns of five. "You're making a mistake!" she said. "Correct." said the Lawyer. "Before we go on we have to eat very lightly."
It was this joyless prospect which would have been a ghastly mistake because one joked all day and the other ever smiled. Every so often he'd drop his fork and she scarcely knew one end of a chicken from the other. It took four chickens to feed four people! In spite of the small drop-leaf table the prize for the best tattoo would not go to him. I was a mass of conflicting emotions on scraps of cement.
A harassed helper came to attend to her after sparkling them devilishly and screamed right in his face. She must have felt a little worked up over nothing, anticipating the Beef Wellington that would show up soon. Nevertheless, Denise laughed her indolent laugh. "She's always been a mystery - like you."
[[Introduction]]
0. [[Stirrings]]
0. [[Conflicting Emotions on Scraps of Cement]]
0. [[The Fall of Colonel Agol Nagol]]
0. [[Mr. Wenderby]]
0. [[Epiglottis]]
0. [[Chump]]
0. [[Tea]]
0. [[Ski Slopes]]
0. [[Radioactivity]]
0. [[Abstract Concepts]]
0. [[Scampi]]
0. [[Fillings]]
0. [[Intoxication]]
0. [[Saturation]]
0. [[Painkillers]]
0. [[Cleanliness]]
0. [[Not a Story]]
0. [[Dave]]
0. [[The Hijack]]
0. [[Bees]]
0. [[The Hole]]
0. [[Sebastian]]
0. [[Reverse Engines]]
0. [[So Lovely]]
0. [[Carrie Louise]]
0. [[Clam-bake]]
0. [[Station of Self Doubt]]
0. [[Tide of Events]]
0. [[Let's Pull a Fast One on Joey]]
0. [[Persecution Complex]]
0. [[A Flattering Attitude]]
0. [[A Grave Tragedy]]
0. [[Chief Points of Autonomy]]
0. [[Metaphors]]
0. [[People Converging Harmlessly]]
0. [[In the Mode]]
0. [[Severe Angle]]
0. [[The Purpose of Pruning]]
0. [[Extra Chairs]]
0. [[4lb and 7oz]]
0. [[A Truly Royal Funeral]]
0. [[Vendozoa]]
0. [[Waffle]]
0. [[Curry Puffs]]
0. [[Hang Glider]]
0. [[Carousel Jumply]]
0. [[Mysterious Double Life]]
0. [[Baseball]]
0. [[Postcards]]
0. [[Silt]]
0. [[Oblong]]
0. [[Whistle (Mr Toot)]]
0. [[Head]]
0. [[Possibilities]]
0. [[Tomato]]
0. [[Anticipation]]
0. [[Grit]]
0. [[Grind]]
0. [[Their Eyes Do Not Meet]]
0. [[Pond Dipping]]
''The Fall of Colonel Agol Nagol''
<==>
Colonel Agol Nagol was the only Prime Minister this decade to be overthrown because of his irresponsibility, but in 1943 they found his bones in New Zealand, and paintings of him were discovered in various regions of France and Spain. The holiday nightmare began when the limit of Russian endurance was reached. In a small country cottage destroyed by the Russians they danced comically before they died. As the war dragged on, a gaunt grey blotched giant grew to dinner plate size and was messy and dirty. When Mr. Warren brought the skeleton to me I was enjoying a holiday in Spain. Creeping across the Himalayas, down through walled marked places the collapse of the absolute monarchy was very swift. Before he died, a provisional city government was set up, ignoring the guard. Age by age, these people lived and marvelled under the powerful emotion of rage. The governments of Europe, inspired by antiquated policies of hate and suspicion, and all the marching regiments in white carried warfare from two dimensions into three. The scheme will pick out the next near relative, provided he is a man.
''Mr Wenderby''
<==>
At half past seven that night, the mythical Henry spoke, his queer lined face dangerously close to the centre of a hamburger. "Give me a good supper!" he pursued earnestly, but the damage was done.
Jane, who lives in a two story apartment donned the wig. She almost felt herself blushing as she sat uneasily upon him. She cannot wait to clean out a blender to make, as it were, a reality of the phantom.
Mr. Wenderby, dripping and paler than ever, dressed himself in a brand new outfit. Then, with a dramatic change of tone, he spoke English fluently. He was dismissed forthwith by a mythical Englishman and was not allowed to do any quiet tiddling.
A former captain in the army destroyed everything had ever possessed and began all over again, patting with talcum powder to mop up any grease.
"That's the idea!" said Joe, humiliated, tortured with the thought. "If you can't afford carpets for a room, use a few bricks and two wire grills."
''Epiglottis''
<==>
A carbon copy of myself turned up on my desk. At the time, I was rather ill. The disease consisted of several large lumps inside my epiglottis. Sausages were the cause. It took me 45 minutes to clear my desk due to the fact that my supervisor had glued a paper copy of myself to the desk. I didn't like my supervisor until one day when we travelled together to a show in Uttoxeter. I had resented the very thought of travelling with the man who in a past life had glued my socks to the desk of our local greengrocer, but as it happened we got on because we shared a common interest. It may surprise you to learn that my supervisor and I work on a project involving sticky substances made from the bones of stick insects. Lovely was my reaction to her enormous appetite for stick insects.
Jeremy, my supervisor, had a strange name for a woman. Artemis, he called her, but on Saturdays she was known as Zelda the fabulous stick insect devouring hero. Fortunately I caught several stick insects which helped to cement our relationship. Her tongue was rather like putty enabling her to cure my epiglottis, thus making it possible for another episode in the life of Jeremy.
It wasn't until late September that he aplologised for breaking my desk. I said "Let's go and have a good time in Uttoxeter" again. "OK, he said.
''Chump''
<==>
Open the door.
Before his execution, Tramble Nevis became a very large celebrity. He had been convicted of stealing a brown fur coat from one of his showbiz pals. However the man who accused Tramble admitted after his death that he hadn't stolen the coat at all and insisted he be buried with it.
When he went out in the evening to paint, the villagers looked on in astonishment as he put candles on his broad-brimmed hat and laid on thick layers of paint. His two big outfits stood out in the failing light.
Admittedly I am a chump. I was the one who put Tramble in the gas chamber. But not only am I a chump, but so is Napoleon as he had a specimin to learn from too. Even my uncle Percy thinks I am a chump and therefore I must be a chump for not realising it.
A hatchet job ruptured my contact with Nevis as I slumped from chump to sad case rambling on about nothing. I'm amazed the underground press understood me. They said "I am my words". I eat my words.
''Tea''
<==>
I know you've got a drink problem, but thanks to the miracles of science and nature, I believe I can control my drug problem. It is recommended that in future all foreseeable events be taken completely out of context.
"Take these tablets," he said which cured my drug problem, but a grinning idiot face was a side effect, which is why I wear a paper bag.
If your drink problem is really as bad as you say it is, I'll put the kettle on, no don't touch that, I don't believe you'll like what you find. Sorry about that, but we all need our privacy. I need to concentrate on my music.
"Stay fresh and dry out" was the motto of this story, which wasn't very long. Three teas, two coffees and a couple of Garibaldis. You did mention tea bushes, didn't you?
''Ski Slopes''
<==>
To avoid embarrassment, Mr. Wentworth always went skiing on his own. To his despair, he was on this occasion even worse at skiing than before. It wouldn't have been so bad but he was always being overtaken by six year olds. They called him Dumpy because of his inability to stay upright. Secretly he harboured the desire to be the world's greatest lover but he wasn't any good at that either.
At school, a gun was hidden in the desk at which he sat. He always meant to use it, but until now he had never used it. He was appalled to find the words "Smith and Wesson" engraved on its barrel and had decided not to use it on grown ups. The next day on the ski run, a unfortunate six year old passed him on one leg shouting "Way up Dumpy!" and causing Mr. Wentworth to pull out his shotgun and aim for the child's head. Unfortunately Mr. Wentworth's aim wasn't very good. He shot the top of his own head causing an avalanche of blood and snow which covered all the children. Miraculously his instructor rescued them but Mr. Wentworth didn't survive. His mother had the skis buried with him and every year they grew an inch taller.
''Radioactivity''
<==>
While expressing scepticism about fighter aircraft, Jack Smith made night bombing more accurate. The Angolan government said that all crustaceans in California have radioactivity. No longer will the coastguard have any noticeable features although there are few laws which can delay the formation of shockwaves.
"There is no threat to beaches at the moment" Navy Commander Michel Junqueira said. The Greeks disagreed, and decided to refuse docking rights to a Chinese ship. Chinese officials in Hong Kong accused a British explorer of the Western radioactivity.
All that has to be done is to staff around the clock Morse code radio listening posts and to invade the web of another younger house spider. It may not be the most glamorous photo opportunity but the family breaks up surprisingly quickly when the pan is cold, starting out slowly and building momentum.
A Chinese actor is also feeling good about himself. Eight performances kick off at the King's Theatre tonight, generally called "Rock Folds". It's like a game of Chinese whispers lasting thousands of years.
''Abstract Concepts''
<==>
I can't help wondering why the halo effect seems to be at its strongest when the sun shines from the East. What is being communicated by each of these figures? The halo shows that there seemed to be differences between myself and the other side. If you watch speeded up film it comes more quickly to light, however a considerable amount of time is spent visiting old school-friends. Because of this, some fairly common items such as cages, volcanoes, camels, and tractors could be found loitering behind Japanese people, whereas others like birds are only found in busy streets.
I may one day allow fidgeting and twiddling, but for the time being we are interested in the way that others, like birds communicate. The kind of talking which a parrot might demonstrate, such as "who's a pretty boy then?" and the sentence "Mary likes Joan" conveys a complete lack of responsibility on the part of the parrot. To sum up, what we are getting at here is the apes, and in particular chimpanzees, for the sole reason that in the wild if they are given an inch, they will deal quite easily with abstract concepts.
''Scampi''
<==>
Every Thursday as the light faded, Scampi Rouleau, the civil servant who supported Rotherham, would display impressionist works in his reincarnated state. For the first few weeks there, output was feverishly prolific but tailed in the later months. Men of imagination would gather in his shop and plot more flamboyant behaviour involving blood-letting.
Scampi was the victim of a wave of strikes and for this reason, communists waged an open gun battle. The battle was hard fought and colourful swashbucklers made an avid attempt to get duellers banned.
It wasn't until late July that Scampi suffered a mental collapse, and having already been back as a mouse, a shark and a crocodile in a single day, had only one guise left. Under the crushing weight of a large highwayman, local contractors were finally persuaded to build a multi-storey car park. Italian workmen were attacked by angry crowds, who had come to see the carnage but instead worked at a punishing pace. Scampi deterred the crowd's attention by choosing to come back as a naked woman picnicking with two fully clothed men. They roared with delight, and bought a broad-brimmed hat between them to show their appreciation.
''Fillings''
<==>
Many young people take the attitude that there are family problems on the horizon, but also between children and other children. There are grounds for renewed hope. Many old recordings replay to produce a mass of chaotic feelings. Conducting an orchestra, the Jewish boy becomes a Jewish man. This means that new opportunities are on the way. In the long run, being fat indicates too much candy. This is an ominous subject at this particular moment which cannot be shaken off easily.
"What's wrong with fillings? - They are symbols of transformation." Rather than growing, dressing in the clothes of the opposite sex, giving all the ice cream to the neighbour kids is a sign that you are feeling very secure about your future. How poorly we use the superb physical apparatus of birth! Be clever and make lots of sealing wax before setting off.
Every creature on Earth, always dirtying up the kitchen - sometimes horrific adrenalin charged ants. The appearance of the edge was to turn off problems of emotional control, such as buying an encylopedia. A pair of men's boots were made to listen to a full reading of the ten commandments by a madwoman. Besides asking what came before, the adult can also ask "are you saved, brother?" and "why do we not always remember our dreams?"
The type of food being fried in later life is about to rebel in the face of an impossible situation. The self defeating attitude of nudity plays an important part in all of life if it is in a pot. The trouble is we did not create ongoing ecstasy in our previous existence.
''Intoxication''
<==>
Their unusual friendship was strengthened by the fact that they had never met. She was an avid fan of the Russian Orthodox Church but they disagreed on the subject of intoxication. She maintained that listening to music was rather like being drunk. He said a man takes wine to be deluded but listens to music to be denuded.
The children drank cows milk, which was highly beneficial and not toxic, however it killed some of them resulting in a host of emotions. This is very useful and covers a wide range of milk from cow's milk to sheep's milk.
With gravel adhering to her mouth and nose she turned to face the butler who leaned on the limousine with blood dripping from a gash on his brow. Such dedication, she thought to herself, but her efforts to outpace him in the rock industry were crushed like gravel.
No-one ever rids themself of guilt, for the world is a courtroom, but every time I step out on stage I expose myself. This is a statement to the world in general and their reaction is to build another courtroom in your mind.
''Saturation''
<==>
Without doubt, faulty nutrition and rather acidic sugar should be put alongside the intoxications of vegetable juice. If someone succeeded in the early stages of the spring clean in Suffolk, he would have no need to worry about the body and chemical factors. The lowest scores were achieved if a person is put into a state of hypnosis. The effect was magic - a magical act. It was not until well into the Eighteenth century that chips, sausages and white bread gave a view into mental life. Every neurotic has something pressing him. He was forced to employ older retired people to free human society from the yolk of sexuality.
Any attempt by experts to undertake analytic treatments may result in nettle rash and hay fever. If we can bear in mind the fact that this organ can be equally well excited, older retired people, when they actually experience saturation can remain permanently unconscious.
As these figures show, that everything that happens could then be baked to provide a somewhat whiter loaf. Of course it would be delightful for philosophers to feel sorry that very determined efforts quickly became popular. There was just one small concession to the concept of sexuality, in which the subject's libido is attached to his own cat.
In a few ways perhaps, there are dependent upon erotogenic zones which deliberately spend lengthy periods under a common president. It is true that milk led to these findings and highly efficient advertising campaigns replaced it.
''Painkillers''
<==>
The painkillers were low without taking too many of them. Japanese people always asked "What is it about the painkillers that gets you so high?" Jokingly I replied "No, it's not the painkillers it's my dog. I'm allergic to dog hair you see. One sniff and I'm anybody's body."
Down in the cellar, I used to get up to all kinds of excruciatingly sad things with tadpoles and various types of fungi. My Dad said it was a result of rhubarb but secretly I knew that my helicopter had come unstuck from the ceiling. This didn't help, neither did the fact that the Japanese people used to ask awkward questions.
"How much for that Airfix helicopter?"
"Why doesn't the fly land on your fungus?"
were two just two of the aforementioned awkward questions. And so to the painkillers which helped tremendously except at the sight of a tractor driven by Japanese people. Sausages never prevented a problem but every time my nephew phoned up I thought of fungi for the rest of my days.
''Cleanliness''
<==>
Ribbly Stuntsky had a hobby. This hobby entailed collecting things of a clean nature, such as a cooker, soap, two lumps of sugar and a bowl of rosewater. Unfortunately his girlfriend was not impressed being of illegitimate parentage and unclean nature. Therefore, he resolved their apparent differences by inserting a large bar of soap between the gaps in her toes. This prevented any further walking differences and so ensured a happy union. However, his girlfriend's mother tried to separate them on several occasions. "Why didn't you phone for a pizza?" she said one day when they returned from Kuala Lumpur where they had been to a convention that integrated clean people with the dustmen of Kuala Lumpur. They said "It's about time you two got married," but as they weren't conformists one of them had to convert to the other's morris dancing tendencies. Cleanliness and bells are always the most fundamental principles behind learning the entire volume of the Karma Sutra and are essential to the etiquette of marriage in Kuala Lumpur city.
''Not a Story''
<==>
Turn the light out dear.
Okay. - I can't sleep.
I can't sleep.
I can't sleep.
MMMM
Oh I've set the alarm clock so we can get up. Wake up you stupid old fart.
+ }}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}
Stable | 1) S
| 2) C
| 3) T
| 4) Mad
| 5) 8
| 6) i
Find-a-word game 362
Quiz box, PO BOX IBF
London W1A
1BF
''Dave''
<==>
Arrogance is nice you say,
but is it?
I've been through a trauma,
get out of my way, I'm trying
I'm a musician, you see, - a frustrated musician who has inadvertently upset everyone who ever listened to Showaddywaddy. Dave I said Dave, what have I done Dave? I've alienated myself Dave. This feeling of alienation gets up my tuba so badly, it's a flute. I don't know if I can cope Dave. Dave, I don't know if I can cope. I'm gonna write a note to the musician's guild complaining without wanting to exacerbate the situation, about all fans of Showaddywaddy who wear yellow blazers. Oh Dave, I don't know if I can cope Dave. Dave, help me Dave, I don't know if I can cope Dave. Give me one good reason to go on making music Dave. I just can't hit that note anymore. I can't do it Dave, I just can't do it Dave. If anyone asks where I am in the next few weeks, tell them the story of my sad and unpredictable, irrational life. Write a story Dave, in memory of me. I don't think I can go on, Dave. Dave, Dave.
''The Hijack''
<==>
When it rained, Mortimer used his umbrella whilst standing on the platform of the railway station. He wasn't a normal rail passenger, he was about to rob the buffet car. His mother had always brought him up to enjoy his food and never to talk with his mouth full. The 7:57 to London St. Pancras, stopping at Brough, Thorne North and Padley Springs pulled up like a dumb waiter full of food and leopards. He was having second thoughts about the leopards, but they like cucumber sandwiches and so they didn't cause too much of a problem. Apparently, if you put your fingers in your ears, I don't know if you know this or not, it stops the rain getting in them.
"What the hell's that?" said Mortimer, pointing to the pheasant sandwiches behind the counter. Two leopards were playfully mauling the driver who was sitting in the first class carriage in many parts of the room with a cup of tea. Mortimer thought it best to just ignore them and drew his gun on the man behind the counter. It wasn't a very good drawing, but it fooled the man who handed over the pheasant sandwiches, and the leopards clapped - they'd never seen a hijack before.
''Bees''
<==>
The cream of society attended my inaugural induction into the society of pedantic worshippers of the sun. Blazing sun. Pedantic blazing sun. So pedantic that even under certain circumstances nobody could believe what I was about to say. "It was this big" I said, but nobody believed me. My amygdala had swollen to the size of a watermelon overnight. This triggered many violent circumstances involving my girlfriend Sandra, who sat cross legged in the corner of the room throughout the whole experience. She wore one of those protective hats as well as a Lycra bodice. She was rather unpredictable in her style of dress, but oh, how she loved bees. In this we were unanimous. It excited me to think of bees. So infatuated we were with bees that we would often religiously go on a day trip to Somerset where fork lift trucks were used to penetrate enormous bee's nests, high above the streets of Somerset, England. The sun had a lot to do with the making of honey. Expressionists expressed the opinion that bees were small compared with the sun, which is why I never liked them. Also, it is big.
''The Hole''
<==>
I was stuck down a hole. I'd been there for three and a half hours and the big fat woman who'd tried to rescue me was stuck here too. "Bastards" I said, referring to the furry animals who'd pushed me down here. I found one of them underneath the fat lady reading up on "How to Cope with Being Flat" which was somewhat rewarding in a way. The fat woman had been trying to kiss me. In such a confined space, it was difficult to avoid it. The ladder which we finally used to escape had been there all along, but because it was dark, my friend Cyril had suggested, that was why we hadn't seen it. No sooner had we got out, than the fat lady proposed marriage. I jumped at the chance of being back in the hole and gallantly flung myself in. Fortunately I had taken the ladder with me, whereby preventing any further furry animals being squashed under the fat ladys rosy structure. She tried to get back down from the Greek Cypriot governing body which had engulfed her and the furry creatures on a previous occasion. Hooray!
''Sebastian''
<==>
My alter ego said "Sebastian, Sebastian" but that wasn't my name. Sebastian; it shames me to think sometimes that this was my other self. Rather greedily, he took it upon himself to occupy my thoughts. This lead to a mysterious double life.
One day, I suddenly found myself strung up in the kitchen. I was always highly strung, especially when my alter ego took the cake and ate it. I took a Slim Fast plan but it bothered me to the extent that I gave up when my weight reached an all time low, and got fat again. Once again, I confronted my next door neighbour who had an alter ego with a moustache. It bothered me. I didn't like my next door neighbour's moustache and my alter ego never learned my name. I learned from my chemistry lessons that oil and water don't mix, but they do when diluted. This served as an allegory for crocodiles as it appeared to cover my alter ego.
"Sebastian, Sebastian" he said, but that wasn't my name. I wish it was, then at least I'd stop shouting it. The telephone is ringing. It's my alter ego Sebastian again.
''Reverse Engines''
<==>
Over a period of seven years, a young sailor stands up there on the bridge as happened in the Iranian embassy. "Reverse engines" yelled the Captain, but eventually after a great deal of coaxing we all urged it on.
The assault group married the vicar's youngest daughter. He would contrive to escape from such a predicament without causing injury to their fellow team members. The local priest was representing terrorists with eyes, gestures and prayers. His overbearing behaviour and tone of command was still little more than 20 strong. His eye blazes as he takes his parrot to sing a hymn in the killing hour.
At last I managed to seize the vicar's youngest daughter. Stripped to the waist, bare headed, furnished with a television and pictures on its walls, off we all rushed helter-skelter and eventually followed by a prolongued debriefing.
I should be sorry for the unfortunate priest to enter a terrorist stronghold but he forgot to switch his radio mike off.
''So Lovely''
<==>
Before the door was so lovely, it was a colour from the seventies. We could hear vollies of operations coming from Montreal. General Walter Worstofit passed without a fight. He passed at a half trot and was sliced beyond the hill first time by surgeons who were studying a burning campaign from 1959. The regiment carried him off on stretchers.
By December the girls boarding school of the sixties required a full squadron. The clergy were not permitted to drinking. It is a terrible shame that they attracted the twin peaks guerillas. 8 miles from Sabrina the nun and the animals pushed open the doors and withdrew to a teacup. The ferry was a member of the Sultan's chief of staff and invited the vicar back for tea.
I didn't have underarms. A hard ordeal wondering every now and then about the heap of flesh on my arms. Fear? No. This was it then - one big effort - at Magabonie we should all die. That could hardly have been my arm still inside the cow. So hungry, stitching with the help of the Neapolitans and the occasional stifled oath. At last it was done.
''Carrie Louise''
<==>
Many decent people walked along side by side listening to the argument. Surprisingly most complaints have come from the crew, either after dinner or tomorrow morning. But Carrie Louise was thrilled by it - swallowed up in the gay whirl of life. The affair is bound to clear up confusion about garments she had managed to confine for him. Her surprise knew no bounds, but she doesn't live in the real world, she lives in constant fear of being head-hunted. But she would not be drawn to go to the best dress-makers and drove him over a precipice in a car. He had never opened a tin in his life. I was really happiest about Carrie Louise when she was at a neighbouring strip of wood. I think she is a scheming woman who enjoyed her little joke alone, but when I return home on weekday evenings I have not the least desire to spar. Mr. Martin declined to comment.
''Clam-Bake''
<==>
In my days as a rock legend many screaming teenage girls had asked me for a sample of my famous clam-bake. Of course I refused - the reason being that clams are an aphrodisiac and I had no desire to live in a helicopter all my life. Eventually my life became a living hell as tunnels to my living room caused subsidence in my kitchen. I once caught pneumonia whilst at a convention when 300 screaming fans tore my clothes off and showered me with ice lollies.
''Station of Self Doubt''
<==>
The last train leaves at midnight. I hope you will all come. Many faces portray the eyes of a dog looking for a new master, others the fixed open eyed look of someone watching something terrifying. What splendid lonliness. It is the station of self doubt, the platform of despair, where all the passengers converge to overcome their paranoia. They will never overcome their furthest horizon, so it is with great lament that they return.
''Tide of Events''
<==>
At one o'clock in the morning, after the recent rains, our man took me to a sort of cave. His manners were faultless and his dress perfect; if he wasn't so damned serious God knows I'd even like him. He was never known to possess more than two suits at the same time. No-one in the firm knew why he had been chosen.
In the gallery, a photographer was perched on the edge of the wall. A man with a black band around his arm paused in his restless search for ways to control the tide of events. He had never spent so long jammed between people whom he didn't understand and whom didn't touch cheese.
A famous American newspaper correspondent had been in Moscow now for two weeks. If you sit in an alcove, the lofty ceilings and the 17 windows of the house are like a dismounted highwayman.
''Let's Pull a Fast One on Joey''
<==>
He sat at the chair and stared at the wall opposite. It seemed to relax him. Perhaps it was the wallpaper. There was much on his mind, it seemed that everything had become immensely complicated like the wallpaper in a friend's bathroom with its butterflies and fierce geometrical patterns. It was the first time he had thought deeply about taking his life. In the end it was the wallpaper that saved his life. So engrossed was he in its obscurity, its repeating clusters of rare and exotic animals, that he forgot to load his gun.
Sheepishly he climbed down from the chair, with his head still turned towards the wall and placing the gun at a right angle to the other wall shouted "Bong!" and shot down an imaginary barrier between him and the wondrous wallpaper.
It was rather an extreme way of responding to loss at golf, but his upbringing was a strict one and competitiveness had been instilled in him from an early age. Explosive devices had also figured largely in his childhood. Whenever a naughty prank had been played upon him, he responded by the use of firearms. No-one pulls a fast one on Joey, but now a new love in his life prevented him from pulling the trigger on himself.
He had an ulterior motive however - a distant cousin with child bearing hips had had an interest in wallpaper, which benefited greatly from a large inheritance of hand printed Victorian wallpaper from a distant aunt. Needless to say, Joey's new interest became a dominant part of his personality. He and his cousin were found making potato prints on a very large roll of newsprint.
''Persecution Complex''
<==>
High pressure farmer was incapable, suffering a persecution complex, a strange belief; has to be on the alert to service motor cars, killed six men in a strange deception. In the following story the landscape is obliterated, the destruction of Graham's house in a watery rut, speeding motorists glassily polished, regularly seducing reporters without the slightest effort. Nobody in a car is free - for a moment in Hokitika, overhanging in the locality of a threatening action, bathing his senses in a flashing cow, half shaven with naked limbs - I could murder myself. He made his escape in garrets of paper in the sullen bush, a wilderness of monkeys.
''A Flattering Attitude''
<==>
Mr. Warren's skeleton lived not very long in W. Samoa and was aroused and subtly strong. It appeared decayed as a woman, with bony ridges in the wolf area. The teeth of the Samoans on average were 140 at the same time as the government. He supported a tape deck.
Graham was a barman and made excuses for his wife's pleasures in the summer. He was shot dead, ready to jump on motorcars. The motorist believed the soldiers about women and children being obliterated.
The final report shows the delicate blue sky and Arthur Bechen's newspaper pleased the black staring motorist. An earthly red on the edges making sunny days for farmers. Nobody suffered from gunshot wounds. For a moment in Ashbourne yesterday he rejoiced by threatening the editor.
I should like it to be possible to arrest the cow for exposing naked limbs for a short period. We noticed a flattering attitude from the escape from vulgarity and now becomes a wilderness of monkeys.
''A Grave Tragedy''
<==>
A man entered the house dangerously about 20 yards from the roadway. It was to be noticed that he was clearly suffering a persecution complex. Some of the 300 men who joined the search have ceased their curiosity. Neither of the investigators caves at the rich man's girdle. The tough taxi man, half shaven, came out of the house with a gun in his hands. But the next near relative who is a native of Kokafah is all too readily supported. Shortly after 6PM a grave tragedy occurred. Daddy bought me a pet tortoise and triumphantly shot it. The full details of the tragedy remain to be told, but there is clearly much more that we might eventually find out.
''Chief Points of Autonomy''
<==>
For a start, the departures of the old stag were widely regarded straight to the soul of the album charts. Virgin and Mr. Closer always intended an open mind on Mr. Berry's heart. "They have done the least expected" said Ted, and saucily analyst Jason Jackson signed the £27M deal last October.
Michael's kids are going to have an operation in 1995. He admitted that the operation had been inspired by the future in home insurance leasing. It was not the short-lived Mr. Fifield and the combined exodus of widely regarded department heads. The company thought we would clone them as a private purchase of autonomy. Mr. Venables was dismissed with a substantial contract. "They have done the least expected" said unoriginal analyst Jason Jackson.
Mr. Clark downplays the leasebook. The lease was always intended to sustain the unoriginal - one of the agreements of the industry. "When we didn't know, we had to carry the company" Mr. Berry said.
''Metaphors''
<==>
Language is called the pulp of a rotten orange; rather, language is the smell of chickens, the straining of many faces. I said that imagination was the crisp, moist cleanliness of the crowd, so metaphors are her stuff: cabbages, new potatoes, the heave of water, some few primitive elements. The wonderful metaphors, recognised as warm infusions of the florid, or now solid alligator pears. Elements are the osseous subtle air of a spring touch; then are metaphors its vitality?
''People Converging Harmlessly''
<==>
The house was quiet. She felt uneasy again, so vulgar. There was the feeling that he had wept. Punctually, Jimmi and Girly had gone to prison outside town. She couldn't understand herself. Jimmi asked Banbury "what a punctual man you are - irritates some people." Only when my relations come to the house on time will you see what has been done to me. Oh Martha I love violets! Poor Martha - such a nice lady.
When Bob and Joy had enough sense to act correctly without altering his course, Dad got crook during the shearing when his fingers flashed out and flagged us down for a lift. It seemed to turn, converging harmlessly into space. Joy said "I'll give her some raw meat." Some of the reflecting surfaces and the fingertip of rock where I swim in darkness. The sea flooded, 10,000 miles out on an afternoon to everyone's surprise like a seal.
The secretary's car had a pilot - he liked her, saying she'd stayed there too long (in 2 years). She wondered about a charter service and dressed over and over again. As she went downstairs, she paid him 250 rupees an evening.
"I'm only making an excuse" she said "so they'll stop staring at me."
"Alright" he said "I need the morning to see a Sikh from the air truck who is very old fashioned and very British."
''In the Mode''
<==>
They talked for two days to make terms with them against extended guilt. In the face of this, she squeezed his fingers, replacing parts of the conspiracy through the use of cotton and linen. As the tumbling flames rose, the upper classes lay unconscious on the deck. Check walled shirts and shirtdresses lost seventy percent of their negotiable wealth.
Some of the older clients are disgruntled but in late 1938 the yeoman farmers acquired all the new fashions. This should be adapted in style and fabric to be found worn in church on sundays.
It was now that father desired to spend some time in London; he had seen too intimately the struggle that had taken place. Among the country gentlemen there was a wigwam - also hats, handbags and accessories. There they must be in the mode. There is a special youth wing on the fourth floor.
''Severe Angle''
<==>
Under the leadership of the directors, most of them will go back to the British Navy. I went on deck about 2AM, but to avoid the embarrassment which might be produced by a weak axle, I need more roots. At a timely moment, the General's wife who was suspicious of the bridegroom's sex engaged in a desperate struggle to obtain glistening bodies.
There was no necessity to give it help. The governor and the Admiral succeeded to deliver abut 20 that had just been delivered. And as the dull pain of the domestic system became comparatively easy, to run the machinery the men were observed at a severe angle.
''The Purpose of Pruning''
<==>
The art of pruning requires not only the cutting away of dead wood, but the pruning of young seed pods and the removal of entire root systems. Nurserymen often make the mistake of cutting off plants right to the dirt levelling them like stubble.
Englishmen prefer their own back gardens to the city of stone. Behind them are found diamonds, pearls and other gemstones. Henry reported this to the city council, and took his lawnmower to be fixed on account of the shrubs growing too high in the event of war.
The slaves are often found to be allergic to swill buckets and often collapsed whilst dragging out the corpses and cutting into dead wood removing seed pods. At half past two the ship lurched and we all felt ill.
There is however a shop which sells various statues, bird baths and for the connoisseur, garden gnomes. This is the schwarzkopf of a new life.
''Extra Chairs''
<==>
A Chinese chain purse she recognised instantly is purpler than usual and might have been hard to get into. When planning a kitchen, the jury were out for four hours going around making shopgirls giggle, and hitting the other end with a hammer. Now Mrs. Borrowdale was well and truly hooked, helping with the extra chairs.
They called in a young man called John Crunch to complain about nuclear pollution. Rudolph, it will be recalled went to his room, and so put an end to this unpleasant conversation.
If you have any small children around, any villager or reporter will never really get off the ground here. As a child, Angela had played happily, two empty yoghurt pots can be made into a toy telephone or walkie-talkie. With a fireproof safe, a brick and a cold dead stare, she brought ruin and misery to thousands.
The deputy began a wary ascent while a newspaper which had all the pages in the wrong order began to look sinister. It seems incredible, but broadly speaking it seems that women are no different from men.
''4lb and 7oz''
<==>
A convicted drug smuggler was watching your work tonight with great dexterity. He had been reading about the Bournemouth offer of up to £12,000 per year. On clothes, she spent within 12 months £3,780. A drawer full of old rubbish that had not been turned out in 20 years received confirmation of a reserved seat on a flight to the moon.
Everybody on the stage could see, and Mr. Speaker-Abbot in particular - they spent the evening singing and dancing. There were some little parcels in the snug little harbour. He spent the best part of the day gasping in the wings wherever there was cargo to be got. Sir Vicary Gibbs advised caution, but made no effort to shorten his stay.
Speechless, she sank down on a chair. She could hardly get the words of out of her mouth - the heat treatment had been successful. At a meeting, residents voted in favour of having her stripped and weighed. Her prospects were excellent - she weighed a mere 4lb and 7oz.
''A Truly Royal Funeral''
<==>
"A knife and fork worries me",
"Never mind darling, you'll get used to it." She tried to be very cool about it all - on one occasion she was given up for dead.
"I'm not hungry you see."
He was rather troubled about this.
"I have no explanation of it."
Every so often, a homemade ladder, knotted sheets and a stolen car swelled to a roar. I've travelled 150 miles just to play it at a wedding party. The funeral was conducted by his successor. It has been arranged that the vocalist should take his turn first. There his body stayed undisturbed - he was not to be denied a truly royal funeral.
The casualties included his brother and a servant. The madman had been dead for 20 years declaring we should have to bury him on the road.
Police believe William hadn't his master's courage or stamina.
"You were a bit of a slacker, and did not get hassled by the police who were crawling about the floor looking for his hat."
''Vendozoa''
<==>
An age of high pressure sky searching will be discussed at a four day conference at the Tara Hotel in London. Crouched hard against the rocky wall the crazy young whelp laid himself open to influences such as midnight dreams of flight and disaster. The biased man keeps leaning to one side. He is going to expire quietly without slide on bitumen. A small plane crashed at Nowra yesterday and caused the car to wander from one side of the road to another. There were no skid marks on the road. Remotely controlled propulsion vehicles, always on the edge of capsizing, collided near Gouldbaum yesterday. I noticed that some stalks broke off just like those of a real spider. The rod-like molecules align in one direction but I've seen it over and over again.
''Waffle''
<==>
It was taking the weather map in a penny weather book in a weather office in Spain. I wondered how long he had been doing it. As explained above, the key to these symbols is in a crowd. In the summer months, the prevailing winds are facing to Mecca a little way apart.
It was 5 o'clock in Waikamuku, a little patch of ground away from position by about 250 boars. It was unthinkable that most of them were nothing like that. They put bluebottles through the walls but they brought up a squadron in a hanger.
English of the quieter type of no discrimination and lava often flows to Chinese schools, moderately active in Malay in addition to English in 1883. The sea now being 1000ft deep, 2000 miles away the government is stressing 6000 people in accountancy and 3 years active mechanical and civil engineering on a Hawaiian island.
''Curry Puffs''
<==>
Your relatives and friends will be delighted to see him again as in life when a party of Turks entrenched ashore. Some of the jobs a few doors away move briskly and grandly in stately fashion, with an aspect of peculiar and kindly congruity. On the tongue, delicious curry puffs will be constructed. As you leave Robinson’s, shortly before 9:00 the tough taxi man carried boxes and chairs into the roadway. Truck drivers and pedestrians are always the most culpable sections of the community - an eyesore to the district for a long time to come. A big department is the furnishing department, where they offer a consignment of goods for jail prisoners. On the mezzanine floor, visitors will find another councillor to guide them and make their stay more comfortable. The important thing is to obtain a variety of "technically good, interesting alpine work."
''Pond Dipping''
<==>
Greg Brigstock was presented with an award for his garden vegetables in a ceremony which involved pond dipping. The award was presented by the Lord and Lady Mayoress in Evington Park. Later in the day the three of them went on the bouncy castle.
''Hang Glider''
<==>
Of all the people I ever met, hang gliders were the most obstinate and pigheaded of them all. It wasn't that I disliked hang gliding, but anyone who goes around with wings attached to their arms gets on my nerves, especially birds. Some people may say I'm cynical. Others say I am a good proud and honest citizen, upstanding and very nice. In fact, my next door neighbour often tells me how much safer he feels with me around. I recall the day when six hang gliders broke into his garden. I dealt with them by planting evidence of their crime in a nearby shop window. They would never live far from danger again. This particular occasion was not the first time. A man with a moustache had saved the day. We were always getting invaded by hang gliders, but always it was the main victim, such as myself, who made it work. I found some sellotape attached to a note which read:- "I think you're great" signed "your loving and affectionate and ever faithful next door neighbour. I didn't mean to shoot him. It was one of those things which just happen. The statue they erected to me in the village was a nice gesture, but the hang gliders complained, and broke its arms off.
''Carousel Jumply''
<==>
Carousel Jumply enjoyed driving, as most cars do. Its driver was a woman, but now a man due to the miracles of 16th century psychology. He had tried hard but somehow never succeeded in passing his driving test. On the first occasion it had been a large truck which killed his examiner, that caused him to fail the test. On the second occasion his examiner killed himself. So now he decided to drive without a license, living dangerously. He just didn't care any more.
On the motorway he suddenly realised his car was a bike. Oh dear, and he was squashed flat by the same juggernaut that had killed his driving instructor. This truck was MEAN, and when I say MEAN, I mean MEAN. It trundled off in the direction of the nearest squash court, as its driver was helpless to stop it. They had to call the helicopter division of the Salvation Army who turned up on a tandem, with a frail old woman stuck to the mudguard. She was lying on her front and chanting the words to 'Jerusalem'. The runaway truck didn't see them and squashed everyone else by reversing over them.
''Mysterious Double Life''
<==>
She injected a great deal of humour and wit into her writing. It was a pity that she had no notion of grammar. Except for apostrophes, which she used after practically every other word. It was astonishing that no one ever found out about her mysterious double life. One day she would be Catherine Tangles, and the next she would be a carrier bag. She put all of this into her autobiography, but no one bought it. Perhaps the title, 'The Life of a Carrier Bag', rather spoilt it. Perhaps it was the length, seven pages, that put people off. Unfortunately, once it was on the shelves, there was very little interest. She was in her carrier bag mode, attempting to fill herself with tins of dog food which she would promptly vomit. When she returned to her normal self she smelt of chicken and tuna, because that was all she ate when she was Catherine Tangles. Trevor, the local bookshop owner got rather a shock when every copy of her autobiography was bought by an ageing philanthropist who had seen Catherine's picture in the Times Literary Supplement, and rather fancied her. He'd always liked Tesco bags. They were married the following March.
''Baseball''
<==>
The radiator burst open. The tank must have been under too much pressure, but I tell you what, I bet you I could repair it with both hands tied behind my back. I've always been good at repairing radiators and such like. It was just another fragment of the problem that was bothering me. Baseball.
You see, it was a baseball that did the damage, not that anything else would have, but somehow it was always a baseball at the root of the problem. Some funny dragonny thing was printed on the t-shirt of my worst enemy - the kid who threw it. I picked him up and shook him until he began to cry, so I punched him to make him stop, and he hit me with his baseball bat. I was out cold for two and a half hours. During that time, the kid had broken every radiator in Wigan, all with the same baseball as well. I decided to hide him inside a large cardboard box. It served him right when the box began to leak, and eventually it was completely empty. I wondered where he'd gone for a moment, but then I realised; the dragonny thing on his t-shirt had eaten him. Oh, well, so much for baseball.
''Postcards''
<==>
Underneath the carpet, in the house I was decorating, I found a box of postcards which had small stickers attached to them bearing the names Jodie, Alistair and Bruce. The pictures on the postcards were sickening, and bore no resemblance to old men with handkerchiefs on their heads, nor to the persons named. Cautiously, I turned them over to the police, who read me my rights and placed the postcards on my coffee table. I had not realised it was illegal, but according to section 3, I was Mr. Big. This didn't help, nor was it the sort of time to burn my bridges. P.C. Bond explained that the postcards had come from a man in Venezuela who had connections in the exporting of illegal electronical devices used for the numbing of the senses and took offence to my possession of the postcards.
Crumbs were scattered across the coffee table, so I picked them off. The police thought it was cannabis and got me on a further offence of drug trafficking.
'Hand it over' said P.C. Bond in a voice not dissimilar to the mating call of a moose. Reluctantly I gave him a short policewoman whom I had been hiding behind my back. The postcards by now had become lost, and theh coffee table broken. Luckily the police believed my story about a man from Venezuela who had broken into my house and stolen the coffee table. It was with this story that I approached the magistrate, duly winning my case.
''Silt''
<==>
Tentatively I proceeded through a further five gooseberry bushes until eventually I found silt. Putting it carefully into my bag, trying not to liquidise the gooseberries, I sneaked past the security guards who protected silt. Slowly I poured the silt on the table.
'Oy oy oy oy' said Constable Bog from the other side of the table who sat next to the woman from the library whom I've never liked. Hated in fact. She was damp and didn't like warmth, as a result of an unusual incident involving ultra violet light and frogs. 'Make room for the mushrooms among the silt and gooseberry bushes' said Constable Bog, who had begun to comb through the hair from the woman of the library to create a force capable of extracting fungi from the silt caught up in her brain.
'I think you may be breaking the law' he said distractedly. I caught him a blow across the cheek for being sarcastic about my silt. He knew as well as I that silt should be legalised, as should fungi. Oh, how I remember the silt of my youth. I managed to sneak a small bagful home which pleased my mum considerably. She had always liked silt, squidgy or dry. It made me happy to see her so happy. Oh so happy.
''Oblong''
<==>
Oblong Jones eats goldfish on occasions. He loves to sin, but really, he likes goldfish. It worries him but he does it all the same. There was a goldfish once who resisted his efforts, who is living still to this day in a bungalow in Cirencester. This is that goldfish's story.
Oblong sat and stared. The goldfish stared back. 'I'm going to eat you,' said Oblong in a manner not dissimilar to that of a large nightclub bouncer after a hard night's bouncing. 'Blub blub blub blub blub' said the goldfish, meaning, 'I am God, eat me and you will be damned.' Oblong didn't know goldfish language and delved into the goldfish bowl unaware of the fish's divinity.
With a flick of the tail, the goldfish turned on its heel and swam 500 lengths of the bowl, before Oblong passed out. When he awoke, the goldfish was standing over him holding a trident. 'I am God' said the goldfish, swimmingly, but Oblong didn't understand goldfish language, and made another attempt to eat the fish. 'Eat me and you will be damned' said the fish, before plunging his trident into the sink and finishing with 3 cartwheels. Oblong went hungry that night. Poor Oblong.
''Whistle (Mr Toot)''
<==>
My favourite whistle didn't whistle. The pea was missing, so I tried to replace it with a baked bean, without much success. Heartbroken, but nevertheless undaunted, I proceeded to the whistle shop. Once there, Mr Toot, the whistle salesman, whistlingly whistled a little tune that I'd heard my next door neighbour complain about before.
'Can you keep the noise down?' I said with a grin. Mr Toot continued to toot the little tune incessantly, until finally out of frustration, I whistled my favourite whistle which emitted a parp rather like Pa's parp, which he made when blowing his nose. 'Shut up, shut up, shut up' I said, stamping my foot, but Mr Toot refrained from shutting up, so I got out my huge pistol and shot the index finger of a nearby customer who had previously lost his other index finger in a card game. The single-edged sausage was not the first to inflict such pain. After that, Mr Toot shut up.
'Right then,' he said, 'what can I do for you?'
'A whistle please,' I said, 'Mine doesn't work'
'In fact, can I have six?' he said, holding all his fingers up. My new whistle is now also defunct. I chewed off the pea, stale, but nice. It must have acquired greenness and flavour overnight.
''Head''
<==>
During our carousel I had mentioned to Pete that he looked wonderful. He took this the wrong way, and jumping on my back, attempted to slice off my head, duly succeeding. It took a full 3 weeks for my head to fulfill the soldering process, much to the disgust of Pete, who laughed wickedly at anyone without a head. He could not laugh because I still had a head, and I had cut his head off before anyway.
The next time I saw Pete, he had two heads. I recognised one as the one I had lost and the other as my girlfriend's headmaster. I could not have coped with 3 heads. Somehow Pete carried himself with dignity despite the unusual number of facial expressions he was capable of. He always won the gurning competition, having an advantage over people with just one face.
'Cut off his head, cut off his head!' said the judge.
'Which one?' said the jury, who had decided it was illegitimate and therefore disqualified him. He could not be severed to death by guillotine on account of the non-availability of a triple-edged guillotine, and so instead they killed me as an alternative. Harsh, but fair.
''Possibilities''
<==>
The door was only slightly open, but there was a very nice warm light coming from the other side. I pondered for a moment to consider the possibilities, but there weren't any possibilities except those which I had previously considered impossible.
I was to be confronted with a huge box of melons, once a week, courtesty of my grandmother, who enjoyed melons a great deal, but never ate them, except more than than once a week on a yacht in the Bahamas.
Trevor, who was my niece, strange name for a girl - she chose it herself, her parents are like that - they'd brought her up real strangely, was on her last call around Dudley, my butler, who was ashamed to be the owner of 50 million dollars, which he invested in his local bingo hall once a week around Wednesday.
She never believed in Father Christmas, that was her parents' doing as well. Eventually she was to become an existentialist nun on a ship bound for Rio.
'Help!' comes the cry from behind the door. I paused momentarily to examine my shoulder which had been totally dislocated in a boxing match the previous week.
''Tomato''
<==>
A barren spell had tarnished my reputation as the best tomato grower in Europe. I had to find out the hard way, and I was infuriated to find that the tomatoes I had been attempting to grow had been subjected to too much sunlight and had shrivelled like sultanas. My best friend had a nose like a sultana, on account of it being shrivelled, again the cause was too much sun.
No one seemed to care for my geraniums either. They had wilted so badly, it made me weep with my best friend by my side, being very supportive. We sang in an attempt to lighten our spirits, and miraculously my tomatoes inflated to the size of beach balls. We tried in vain to revitalise the geraniums, but the song that had done so much good for the tomatoes seemed to have slipped from our memories. For hours we tried the history of rock 'n' roll, but were unable to recall the one song that we needed. An innocent passer by whistled the same song the following week, but by then the geraniums were on the compost heap, which sprouted legs after hearing the man. We haven't seen it since.
''Anticipation''
<==>
Me and a load of mates, all of them that there were were in a cowshed at the time. The cows were somewhere else, I don't know where, but it didn't matter where they were as long as //they// knew where they were. It didn't matter, we were enjoying ourselves. We were having a good time. I was so excited I began to shake in anticipation of what we were about to do, but then we couldn't do it because a passing cow came back and said it wanted its cowshed back.
It was quite a surprise to go outside again, and find that it was daylight once more. The cow obviously felt guilty and offered to let us in there again the following week, so we told it where to go.
I cannot believe that despite our good intentions, that anyone could have had the audacity to do what we did that day, looking back. I suppose it had been quite an interesting situation and I'd like to go back again someday.
Everywhere I looked, the cows were standing, facing all the same way, which seemed to be backwards. If something crept up on them there wouldn't be one cow who saw it coming, and they didn't when we came.
''Grit''
<==>
In my days as a bringer of small fortunes, I acquired a large brace which I used for my teeth. As it happened, it scraped large holes in the sides of my molars, resulting in cavities the size of leprechauns.
Watch me jump from the top of my box. It's not a very impressive box but it serves me well. Anyway, my tooth-ache is very painful and the doctor advised me not to eat any more grit, as it caused my molars to ache.
They had become very worn down having been ground down by so that they were practically useless by the consumption of excessive foamy substances, used in the manufacture of grit. Sheep always, (being herbivores) have plenty of molars. This being the case, I endeavoured to follow their example, and in the weeks following my visit to the dentist I implanted a great big enamel coating on my molars. I wasn't very impressed as it made me look rather like a sheep, which I suppose was inevitable, but my woolly exterior belied a hidden tendency to be sheeplike.
On the farm, the goats all had large molars - rather attractive when wet. It didn't help matters any as I had consumed milk and I never realised that my excessive amounts of grit would wear down the street light. However my teeth survived admirably, so justifying my visit to the dentist.
''Grind''
<==>
Every time I clench my teeth, they fall out. This is as a result of my dentist's negligence. Yesterday I resolved the problem by lowering my bottom jaw until it was so low that it connected with my bellybutton. It may look silly, I thought, so I raised my lower jaw until it was even.
My dentist said 'avoid fatty foods, and don't use talcum powder on your teeth again. In fact you should try to avoid all gritty substances.' Seeing red, I struck him a blow across the lower mandible, causing him to call for the secretary, who etherised me.
When I awoke, my molars, which had been ground down through excessive contact with grit, did not seem to be quite so antagonising as before. My dentist assured me that this was because ice cream and other sweet substances only made matters worse. Cracking a gobstopper, I concluded that my dentist was obviously Glaswegian, thus labouring under a delusion.
I turned my molars into a necklace for display around my neck. It had mixed reactions. Some people used to ask me what my teeth were doing around my neck, to which I replied, 'mind your own business', striking twelve o'clock on my molar clock.
Beforehand, I had been partial to vegetables, but my insatiable desire had been abated by the loss of my molars. It's a shame, as I was vegetarian. Now, I can only eat meat.
┌ 1) Man talks to woman in park
│ 2) She begins to stare into space, still talking
└ 3) Man averts his gaze
4) Without talking, they begin to walk and start talking again
5) Man talks sternly to woman in room
6) She begins to cry and slumps to the ground
7) Woman shouts at man
8) Man grabs hold of woman and shakes her
9) He leads her across the room. She is gibbering inanely
10) All the furniture is covered in dust sheets
11) They go over to the window
12) An old man is talking animatedly to a young man
13) He pats him on the shoulder
14) The old man sits in a chair
15) The young man stands up and talks to him
16) He looks out of the window
17) Man sits in dark room, writing, on a bed
18) A man is carried off on a stretcher
[ 19) Man with glove gestures to two policemen
[ 20) A newspaper reports a serious accident
┌ 21) Man sits at a desk, woman talks to him
└ 22) Their eyes do not meet
23) Man stands up in a trance
┌ 24) Man and woman walk down corridor talking
└ 25) Woman stares into space
26) Characters all dissolve into each other
27) Man looks tense on balcony
[ 28) Man raises arm in the air and waves it about
29) Two men shake hands and sit down with coffees
[ 30) Man speaks to his lapel
[ 31) Three men hide from another two men
32) Man points gun at lone man
33) Man sits on bed relieved
34) Man sits at empty desk in interrogation room with coffee
┌ 35) Man listens to reel-to-reel tape recorder
│ 36) Man lights up a cigarette
└ 37) Man doodles on newspaper
[ 38) Man hides behind tree
39) Two men get out of a car and enter a building
40) Two men climb the stairs of a dark house holding torches
''Introduction''
<==>
''Stirrings'' is a collection of collaborative flash fiction written by myself and Loz Etheridge in the mid-nineties, with additional material by my brother, Dan Guest.
In my early twenties I came across a book called ''The Third Mind'' by William S. Burroughs and Brion Gysin. This book showcased the cut-up technique popularised by Burroughs and Gysin in the sixties. It provided numerous examples of techniques for taking texts, cutting them up, and then rearranging and combining the pieces to form new narratives.
Loz and I had already experimented with collaborative writing, exquisite corpse style, for my interactive opus ''Escape from the Crazy Place''. ''The Third Mind'' was an inspiration, and the sixty texts presented here represent the product of a year's mucking about with some of the ideas it provided.
The techniques used to write the stories differ, and unfortunately we did not keep a complete record of which technique was used to create which story.
Some, like ''In the Mode'' were produced by a technique whereby each author took a book, and read out a sentence or sentence fragment. The next author would continue the story by reading a fragment from his own book, and so on. The books we used came from my parents' library and had titles like ''World's Strangest Stories'' and ''100 Great Lives''. Other stories, like ''Silt'' and ''Bees'', were written word-at-a-time, without the use of source texts. Perhaps the oddest results were obtained by a third technique, which required three people. Two would select a different book and read a passage out loud, at the same time, and at the same volume and pace. The third person would sit between the other two and attempt to write down what they heard. The result would be a strange amalgam of the two texts, peppered with mondegreens and oronyms. Examples of this technique include the title story ''Stirrings'', ''The Fall and Rise of Colonel Agol Nagol'' and ''So Lovely''. The word 'surgeons' in the latter text was 'insurgents' in the original source text.
Two stories do not fit into any of the above categories. ''Not s Story'' was simply a disjointed list of notes which happened to be on the reverse of one of the other texts. I do not remember how ''Their Eyes Do Not Meet'' came about, but it seems likely that it is simply a list of scenes from a film that happened to be on television at the time.
J. J. Guest, 2016