A submission for somewhere in part V: Ludwig, the erstwhile butler and badger baiterribleedinglendervish of Vincent and Cara Van Hire, and still wearing his magic asbestos underpants, awoke with three tarts and asked himself:
"What is the nature of the information that I am gaining? Is my contruction of history becoming detrimental?" Whereupon he spontenantaliasly blurterupterucusurburped the following ditty: "Let Badger be and Wolverine Escape to one of many oceans In waterwheels of aquamarine Let them play in scattered notions Let them see and let them pray And drink in corresponding potions While moon and stars circulate" and then had tea and crumpets. ----- Original Message ----- From: "Kathy Forer" <[EMAIL PROTECTED]> To: <[EMAIL PROTECTED]> Sent: Saturday, May 29, 2004 4:25 AM Subject: Re: FLUXLIST: woman smashes dog - call four sentries! > "Man Bites Dog" 42-page book made of fur, teeth, skin and bones > > Kathy Forer, Roger Stevens, Michael Leigh, Alan fffo, badgergirl > > story so far: 14 wolverines and one lap dog chase a badger. But the > badger is too fast and burrows beneath a paintbrush stuck in a stone. > In the burrow are mushrooms and grain. The badger makes a badger > ambrosia of the grain and mushrooms and is soon asleep. Hours later, > the badger is awakened by the noise of wood against stone. It is night > and the lap dog is yapping. The wolverines have surrounded the stone > and are chanting an incantation. The badger doesn't breathe, not a > whisker moves. The suspense is acrostic. After a paws of several > minutes the badger quickly whips out his magic asbestos underpants and > puts them on. He flings open the serving hatch and grabs the vial of > sacred weasel water and makes a dot for the burrow entrance and > confronts the seething mass of writhing wolverines squirming around the > stone which is now glowing with a strange phosphorescent throb! > > 1 > > It was a dense night. Stumble patterns and brave yapping set apart the > party of owl elves and gnome mimics as they writhed and chased and > spurned the undergrowth around the latest beige badger silting. In the > brave distance behove the strange and incandescent foreshadows of > wolverines and greenish melon lights upon the substantial forest fare. > > Young Zonograph, the tallest owl elf snuffed his warps harp and > muttered - I can hear a badger. The badger is in trouble. I scents > wolverines. Hurry there is no stone unready ton roll upturned in this > lackadaisical pre-momentary of the word fandango. > > Meanwhile, or to be more precisereiouseless, high on hill stood a > lonely man with a goathead, his fixedinterestrate stare > directeddyboyhoodlesservilely at the burning black belching smokestacks > of the town beyong the wolverine woods. The sound of a suddenly > snuffeforadicalcified warps harp, brought memories back for Ludwig Hat, > erstwhile butler and badger baiterribleedinglendervish of Vincent and > Cara Van Hire. > > Ludwig stood immobile, imshelle and intexacoe, for Ludwig had been > brained by falling groceries, dropped from almost a mile overhead and > one mile and eight inches over shoulder, a result of the splitting of a > cheap carrier pigeon on it's way home. Forcing his gaze downward Ludwig > was horrified, not only had his part of the story not managed to settle > on a definite form, not only did it lack content but now to his disgust > he found that he had been rendereducededicateddyboyfriended by a > tangerine!!! He couldn't even get that right. > > Ludwig crossed his eyes and dotted his teeth, relaxed and floated up, > through the roof of his own mouth. > > Nincent and Cara, however, were seriously considering calling Sister > Meg and entering into the fray. Sister Meg O'Lomania was after all > acrostic champion frigidaire and good at getting badgers out of trees > and wolverines out of toasters. Lap dogs she had no time for as their > batteries always seemed to run out in the middle of a sent bottle of > enormous palcritude. > > His eyes dilated and shuffled in the moonlight, his breathe came in > short pants and his trousers rolled up like venetain blinds caught in a > mighty wurlitzer. > > Mrs. Shufflefang caught sight of herself ina nearby polished knob of a > milkmans portable pelmet crusher and she winced inwardly, tossing back > a mane of flaxen hair that was tied in a bun and covered in currants. > The badgers, for now there were five, all grabbed the reins of the > milkman's horse and whipped it into a gallop and then into a small tea > shop where it scattered several old ladies and a troupe of dwarves on > an outing. > > Suddenly, Pequot Marmaduck threw a crumpet at Sister Meg. It caught her > with a ping in the frigidaire and she fainted straight away, smashing > the paw of the lap dog who was dreaming of heaven sent chumlaka. Cara > sprinkled Sister Meg and the lap dog each with half a gram of lemon > juice. Meg cried out "get me a toasted pineapple!" and the dog sniffed > the crumpet. > > Ludwig had fallen onto the milk cart and the badgers were busy cleaning > the splashes from each other when seven wolverines walked by and > whistled. The badgers had been mistaken for minks! Finally, they could > answer Young Zonograph's call and they set out toward the southern > phosphorescence, towing Mrs. Shufflegang who had the fixedinterestrate > card for gas and carrots for the hybrid horse and roasted beast for > themselves. > > II > > "What's all this, then!" Uncle Walt awoke with a tart. Carefully > smearing the remains of his last bottle of bright orange nail varnish > into his hair, he feebly crawled out of the hole. Lulu, meanwhile, > disappeared into a cravat. > > "There's badgers in there, I tells ya. I don't want to go to the steak > house no more!" Several of the badgers loitering around the enormous > bonfire giggled loudly. A wolverne chuckled quietly to himself. > > Later that same day, 3,000 red-headed women converged on the small > appliance department at Macy's. There was a sale, you see. Yousee > left the apartment in a shambles. Tucking it under her badger, she > moved the entire affair slightly to the south of Turkey. "What's all > this then?!" shouted Blarney the turkey buzzard. "This doesn't look > like a chestnut to me...." > > > >
