SURREAL ADVENTURES FROM THE SOUTH SANDWICH ISLANDS

Sunday, June 22, 2008

Soccer, beer and chips

The day after, I went back to my place. I was exhausted from lack of sleep; happy with the situation; but also very frightened by the intensity of my feelings.

Bob asked me to stay another day with him. The offer scared me to death.

What if I started feeling comfortable there?
What if I left my toothbrush in the bathroom and my nightie under his pillow?
What if he felt that I was seriously threatening his freedom?

I politely declined the invitation, just in case any of these possibilities would start materializing. But I hated myself for doing that.

He promised we would meet again very soon and said he would be calling me every day to make sure I was getting better and feeling good. Then, he gave me one of those breathtaking kisses that always made me melt.

I e-mailed my best pages to Ed Davies, the editor; there was a lot at stake and I had to keep my promise to Hellgirl.

Oh, and Maxi called to say hello. He didn’t know yet the trap he had set himself in: he would be hearing from Percival very soon and his fate would be in the hands of hell’s powers.

These were the most remarkable events of a week during which I tried to go back to normal mode.

But surprisingly, during the following days everybody disappeared off the face of the earth. I phoned Bob a hundred times but I could only get his voicemail. Same thing happened with Max. And there was no news from Ed Davies. That was strange. Very strange.

Yesterday night, Hellgirl visited me and unveiled the mystery. As I poured her a cup of red wine, she admitted to being bored stiff since Percival orbited to Zantland to meet Max with the Orsinian boxers. No news from him either!

- What happens to these guys? –I asked- The days have passed and I am beginning to ask myself why they don’t call me back or answer my e-mails. Is there poor coverage or lines engaged? Perhaps they’re indisposed, have a hand paralysis or an accident! Or… is it just that they can’t be bothered about me?
- Leni: Stop being paranoid. It’s a whole lot simpler: they're watching that bloody soccer tournament. All the guys got completely hooked on it.
–said Hellgirl-
-Soccer? You mean they don’t answer my phone calls because they’re too busy watching soccer matches? -I asked-
- That’s right. –she said, brushing her hair-. That’s the child inside them, Leni. Men are somehow reluctant to become adults. They still keep their primary instincts, but they don’t hunt, stalk, pounce or kill now. These are lost arts. And therefore, they have to give free rein to their remaining male atavisms in some ways.
- I see. So what they do about it is they play with electric trains; shoot their guns at anything moving; buy expensive cars and bikes; get drunk at night and blow someone out; become virtual headless horsemen and disappear into the dark of heavy roleplay; or support their teams sitting through a soccer matches marathon on the TV... and forget the world.

- More or less. But, hey! Don’t get silly over it. Let them have their fun. Most of them will never grow up. They need that; otherwise they would go mad as hell. Or tommy tank all the time. Or who knows what.

Tommy tank. I had never heard that expression before in my whole life.

- What? -I asked-.
- Buff the banana.
- What??
-I asked again in amazement-
- Hold their sausage hostage.
- Just put it in plain language!!!
- It’s Cockney for WANK! You don't know what that is?
- Of course I know what that is, silly! But I don't speak cockney!

We were dying of laughter.

- You should learn some, dearie… it’s really fun. Silly lovely dudes, eh? If they could just be a little nicer sometimes. –she said, sighing and smiling-
- Aah, yes, they would be perfect! –I smiled back-
- Indeed! So Leni… going back to the soccer thing: Bob supports Zeewland. The Zeewlanders have lost their last match against Commyland and didn't qualify for the semifinal round, so I bet you will be hearing from Bob soon. Max will still be out of reach for a while: Zantland is doing fine and is a serious candidate to become the champion. Ed supported Zeewland as well, because his country –Burdishland- didn’t qualify. So I bet he will get in touch with you soon as well . And my good old Percy supports Zantland. The poor Brotanians don't have a soccer team. They’re only good at marbles.

Hellgirl stared at me and asked:

- Oh, and by the way, the South Sandwich Islands qualified for the semifinal. You know that, right? You won the last match against the Davincians and are playing against Commyland on Thursday.
-Really? Are we? Oooh! That's cool!
- Jeez, Leni, you will never stop amazing me. How come you didn't know that?

Hm. In all honesty, I'm not very much into soccer; but it was nice to know that we were in the semifinals. I suddenly felt like supporting my team! The inner child in me wanted to come out to play!

So that was the reason for the unexpected silence: SOCCER. Hellgirl took her long pipe and lit herself a long blue gold-filter cigarette. She offered me a red one, same size as hers. As I started smoking, I felt spacey and had a fit of the giggles for no particular reason. The smoke coming out of my mouth started making strange hypnotic shapes in strange colours, going from dirty shades of white to the shiniest pink and baby blue. She took a big drag from her cigarette. rolled her eyes and said:

- Mmmm... these blunts always give me the best visions ever. Now, Leni… as you know now, these guys have become brain-dead from massive football overdose. Let’s see what’s going on with Max and Percy. I worry about these two.

Hellgirl dispersed the smoke with a defiant wave of her hand, and the holograms of Max and Percy appeared over the coffee table.

Soccer was Max’s number one passion.
He arrived to his posh flat after a real tiresome workday; he took his jacket and shoes off; threw the tie on the floor and jumped on the couch. Beer. Chips. What a wonderful way to spend the evening: watching the football match. There was nothing more rewarding. Max got goose pimples listening to the national anthem. He was a proud Zantlander and as the players jumped on the soccer pitch, he started singing with his hand on his chest…“Zantland Zantland über alles, über alles in der Welt…”.

All of a sudden, the scene was interrupted by the gust of hot wind that always preceded Percival’s triumphant entries. At first, Max didn’t notice the tiny red man. He was really engrossed in the match.

Percy, hurt in his pride, flew back and stood in front of Max’s face. Max was completely stunned. He stared at Percy, but couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

- Greetings Max!-said Percy-. Everybody knows that a closed mouth catches no flies. Close it or you’ll become the fly catching champion of the world tonight, my friend.

Max closed his mouth on the spot, his eyes like saucers.

- Wot? Wot? Wot the hell are you? –he screamed, pointing at Percy, who sat comfortably beside him on the couch-
- That’s right. Hell. Moi. –he giggled-. Hey. Pass me a Bud, mate! And the chips, please. Tell me… how are the Zantlanders doing? –asked Percy-

Max stared at him, dumbfounded; allowed some seconds to realise what the situation was and said:

- I don’t know who the fuck you are; what the fuck you want; where the fuck you come from and why the fuck you’re in here.
- Let me introduce myself: My name is Percival Von Der Twit-Wingnutty of Twatshire, from the Suckertown County in Brotania.
–said Percy, offering him his hand-
- That’s very cool, man; I’m just Maximilian Brantsch, from Munschtadt, in Zantland. –he said, shaking Percy’s tiny hand-
- I know. I am here as a representative of Hell, duly empowered and commanded to bring you these magic boxers, so that you can shag a pretty Scarlet-Johanson-looking Orsinian girl when you wear them. –said Percy, waving the boxers-

Max gasped.

- Get out of here or I’ll call the police, you fucking freak.

Percy laughed his ass off.

- And what will you tell the cops? That you have seen a five-inch red demon sitting beside you while you were watching the soccer match? –he said, handing him the phone-. Go ahead, Max. Call them and I promise to pay you a visit at the madhouse.
- I must be dreaming.
–he said, dispirited-
- Nope.
- Or going nuts.
- Wrong answer again. By the way, do you mind if I fart? I had baked beans for lunch and my poor old tummy is bloated.

- Do it if you need to, but open the windows to air the room, please. I don’t want the house to stink like it was sprayed by a skunk.
- Oh I like the smell of my own farts!

- Yeah, I like the smell of my own farts too, but I don’t want the smell of yours in here.
- I can understand that. I wouldn’t like the smell yours either. I have a very sensitive odorifice –he said, pointing at his small nose and farting like a popcorn machine-.
- Good. We agree on that. Have a Bud, man.
- Thanks, mate. Cheers. –said Percy, raising his beer can-.

Zantland won the match and qualified for the semifinals. That night Max and Percy drank up all the Bud in Max’s fridge to celebrate.

- Percival: it was a real pleasure to watch this game with you. You’re a good connoisseur of the soccer game. -said Max-- Thanks, man. Same here. You can call me Percy. I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship. –he said, paraphrasing Captain Louis Renault in “Casablanca”-
- Oh, by the way Percy... you said she looks like Scarlet Johanson, didn't you?

Then, they slept it off for twelve hours. And yes, It was the beginning of a beautiful friendship.





"I don't wanna grow up" (by the great Tom Waits) from his album "Bone machine" released in 1992 and winner of a Grammy Award for Best Alternative Music Album.

Scarlet Johanson also sings this song in her album "Anywhere I lay my head".

18 comments:

Grass said...

Oh gosh, I'm laughing out here! Guys farting together and enjoying the moment with beer, chips and soccer? Like my friend once said, "guys are pigs".. I don't agree, but this phrase seems apt for the two who "enjoy the smell of their own farts" eeewwww LOL My dad used to say before, "don't stink like an Indian, stay away from the goddamn beans!"*pardon the pun*

Guys love soccer indeed. I'm more into gymnastics or dance competitions, American Idol, Survivor and such TV programs..:-) You don't enjoy watching soccer sis? How come? I was forced to watch it by a friend whose boyfriend used to play for Yugoslavia when the country still existed.. Hmmm...

I hope the boxers work for Max!

xxx Grass

Leni Qinan said...

Hi sis! What a manly moment, eh? Soccer, beers, chips and farts!

I agree with you, not all the guys are pigs, of course. But some –like Percy and Max- are, hahaha! And enjoying their own smell seems to be… the supreme expression of companionship and the beginning of a beautiful friendship!

Your dad was very right! Beans are dangerously farting!

All the European guys are hooked on soccer these days. And some girls too, including myself now, lol. I was not really interested in the preliminary rounds, but jeez… yesterday night South Sandwich won the match and it was an amazing game. The whole country stopped. Then it was crazy. Everybody’s sleepy today.
They call us THE RED FURY –guess why, lol-.

Now next step is… Sandwich vs. Commyland and Zantland vs. Osmanliland (if you google a bit and think –you’re very clever and will find out easily these codes!). Zantland could be hard tho, hihi. Anyways, it’s gonna be TOTAL WAR!

Wow you had a friend whose bf played with the Yugoslavian soccer team? They were good! Especially at basketball!

In South Sandwich we are very fond of soccer, car races and tennis –this year I saw John McEnroe and Jim Courier at the Masters Seniors Tournament, and I loved it –even though they’re Orsinian… Grrrrr. ;)

I’m pretty sure the boxers will work for Max. Unfortunately, anything hexed by the Orsinian beetch works powerfully on any guy. I only hope Bob does not wear any of these clothes!

XXX

Fernando said...

Escribiria algo pero estoy tan ocupado con la Eurocopa.

Este es un tópico un poco absurdo, tanto como lo de que una muejr fuera de la cocina se pierde...

s said...

lol, who would have thought, maxi and parcy enjoying the match together. To be honest, i wouldnt be so mellow when a creature from hell was in my house :P But, this sure looks good, percy won his confidence and didnt fuck up yet :)

Guys and football, yea ... im a guy, im not into football, but the european championship got a hold of me too, right untill we lost hahaha. Chips, beer and the additional farts go hand in hand with soccer heheh
Grass, all men enjoy the smell of their own farts, most are even proud of it :P

max said...

Well, Percy is not that bad! Well, he’s an old swine but he’s gonna get me a Scarlet!

Body odour is one of the most outstanding facts of friendship between males of different species, girls. Smell is a way of getting to know each other. Some more atavisms, lol.

Hellgirl’s armchair psycology about men is real fun. No, we don’t wanna grow up. What for? Mortgage? Marriage? Kids? Hahaha. I’d rather be the most sought-after batchelor. That’s a lot more fun.

Sorry for disappearing these days, Leni, but I’m hooked on the matches because Zantland is doing REAL fine! I’ll call you when we’re champions, LOL.

Sorry for Burdishland. Sorry for Zeewland too, guys, but we were better. I hope you support Zantland from now on –but I bet you will be supporting South Sandwich, to butter Leni up, lol-.

Auf wiedersehen! (= Seeya in Zantlander!)

Leni Qinan said...

Hola Fernan! Me parece genial que estés ocupado con la Eurocopa. Yo también lo estoy, pero al 50% -es lo más que puedo dedicarle, o me voy al paro!-.

Correcto, es un tópico. Yo misma me pierdo en la cocina y probablemente tú cocines mejor que yo. Lo que no es un tópico –y coincidirás conmigo- es que el cerebro de las mujeres es mucho más multitask que el de los tíos.

Ya tuvimos nuestra guerra de sexos y sabes cómo pienso, asi que paz y amor Fernan. ;)

XXX

Leni Qinan said...

TRANSLATION FERNANDO/LENI:

Fernan said:
I would write something, but I’m so busy with the Euro 2008.
This is such an absurd chiché; as absurd as saying a woman is lost outside the kitchen…

Leni said:
Hi Fernan! Great to see the Eurocup keeps you busy. I am too, but only on a 50% basis –it the most I can devote to it. Otherwise, I’ll be soon unemployed!-.
Right, it’s a chiché. I,myself, am often lost in the kitchen and you prolly cook much better than me. What is NOT at all a cliché is that women’s brain can multitask a lot more than men’s. We already had our war of the sexes and you know what I think, lol.
So love and peace, Fernan. ;)

Leni Qinan said...

Hi Mocky!

It seems we have some hooligans in this blog: Max and Percy. And they seem to get on very well about their body odours, lol.

Max is a little gullible and Percy is a smartass, so he could easily tempt him with the Scarlet looking beetch (I hate her, grrrrrr…)

Guys and football are a cliche, but sports enable and improve this sort of ‘male companionship’ that appears so often when in good company, i’ve seen it so many times!

So sorry for the Oranjes. They were favs here! :( But now I hope you will support the South Sandwich team, ok? ;)

If we get to the final, even if we win in the round of penalties –like yesterday ;)- you’re invited to share some beer and chips with me, but hey! NO FARTS pls (least of all those you could be proud of, HAHAHA)

XXX.

Leni Qinan said...

Hi Max! I’m glad that you’re happy with Percy’s offer and not very upset at him farting in your place, lol. That is the irrefutable evidence that you guys still keep your animal instincts alive and kicking, haha!

You don’t wanna grow up? Well, me neither! I'd love to be a baby and play with my Barbies!

Congrats on the Zantlander soccer team (Die nationalelf, right?). I’m pretty sure you will qualify for the finals, I cross my fingers for South Sandwich too (the Commies are tough, lol).

Ooooh Auf wiedersehen? Wow that sounds very cool!

Big kiss from here!

max said...

Oh btw Leni, the song is very cool, but Tom Waits gives me a terrible headache –he seems to have a frog in the throat-.

I’d rather see him as an actor, he did very good films (‘Bram Stocker’s Dracula’, ‘Cotton Club’ or the excellent ‘Down by Law’ by Jim Jarmusch).

Don’t get upset, but I think I would prefer Scarlet’s version, lol.

Leni Qinan said...

Ok Max,

Tom Waits may have a frog in the throat, but Scarlet's voice really sucks! She is gorgeous, but she can't sing!

Anyway, I guess you don't really care about that, so here you go:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HD9MxVDEpQw&feature=related

And now I'm leaving, I'm hungry!
I'M LATE FER LUNCH!

XXX

Fernando said...

No me creo que puedas emitir esa aseveración en serio.

Es para mondarse de risa. Somos diferentes, Leni, ni mejores ni peores.

Si por multitask te refieres a que eres capaz de maquillarte en un atasco.... Ok

Lo reconozco, no soporto estos tópicos propios de los 80 (o antes).

Leni Qinan said...

Querido Fernando,

Si, emito esa aseveración en serio.

No, por 'multitask' no me refiero a maquillarme en un atasco.

Efectivamente, estos tópicos ni siquiera son propios de los 80. Y me da mucha pereza polemizar ahora, Fernan.

¿Por qué no volvemos a las ventosidades, aires y otros gases? Seguro que es mucho más divertido.

Paz y mucho amor, hermano. ;)

Leni Qinan said...

TRANSLATION FERNANDO/LENI:

Fernando said:

I can’t believe you really mean that.
It’s really laughable. We’re different, Leni. Neither better nor worse.
If by ‘multitask’ you mean that you can put your make up on while in a traffic jam… Ok

I must reckon I can’t stand these typical cliches from the 80s (or even older).

Leni said:

Dear Fernando,

Yes, I really mean that.

No, by ‘multitask’ I don’t mean to put my make up on while in a traffic jam.

Of course, these cliches are even older than the eighties.

I can’t be bothered to start a controversy about this now, Fernan. So why don’t we just go back to farts, flatulence and other gas? It surely is a lot more fun.

Peace and lotta love, bro. ;)

Grass said...

:-) I'm back again sis! But I will scoot away again for the hip hop/bellydance practice..

Yeah, my friend Tin had a boyfriend from Yugoslavia named Darko.. He played for a few years before his death.. yes, sis, my friend Tin's love story is tragic.. I will write about it one day, on my blog...

A beautiful friendship out of sharing horrid smelling bean-induced farts..Argggh, disgusting LOL

I like the string of comments here.. I enjoyed reading.. :-)


xxx Grass

Leni Qinan said...

Hi Grass! I hope these noobs don't keep you too busy with the bellydance, haha! I wish I could attend your classes to, but I'm afraid Big Cheese won't let me go. :(

Sorry about your friend Tin's story. Love during the war. Jeez.

The war in the old Yugoslavia left many casualties and pain there, apart from a dreadful trace of hatred between different regions and ethnic groups. It's really sad. I'd love to hear about that story, which I bet is a beautiful one; though I'm sure it will make me cry.

Hahaha friendship starting from farts, lol. It's a bit silly, but these two are!

This is cool, sis. I really like the way you readerships are commenting and participating -even involving yourself, lol- in thte story and comments. I like proactive and interactive people, and all of you are, indeed.

I am writing a lot lately, so -not sure, but- I may post again tomorrow. And now, I really need to go, ´cos I'M LATE FER WORK. Hahahaha.

Good luck with the bellydance sis!

XXX

tom909 said...

What a match that was! I'm so glad the ultra defensive Davincians came unstuck there. And like the editor in your story, I now support Zantland all the way.
Now then, this thing about men and cliches and all that, I am a man and I fit all of them. But sometimes people do talk bollocks. The number of times I have worked for people who say that their horse doesn't like men is unbelievable. I think there are more similarities between men and women than there are differences - hehehehe even physically if you think about it!!!!!
But it's the differences that help to make life interesting.

Leni Qinan said...

Hi Tom!

The match was thrilling, wasn’t it? I almost had a heart attack at the penalties round!

HEY! How can u possibly support Zantland, like Ed Davies the editor, and not support South Sandwich, lol??? ;) I think I must have a few words with you in private later, HA!

I agree with you when you say that people talk rubbish (b*ll*cks) about cliches. Anyways, some of them are real, very funny and useful for this story –in all honesty, it really happened, I didn’t hear from these guys for some days and it was because of the soccer tournament!-

Of course, as you brilliantly point out, there’s an element of truth there, but we must not take cliches to the letter.

I am curious about this: people who say that their horse doesn’t like men –how can they tell? But I wouldn’t be surprised, if horses could just talk! I bet you can communicate fairly well with them… or even whisper to them. :)

I definitely agree with you when you say there are more similarities between men and women than there are differences. Like –almost- always, you’re right: these differences are just lovely and somehow keep the world turning!

Big big kiss.