Hellgirl (II)

- Are you chicken, Leni? –asked Hellgirl, challenging me-
- No I’m not! I’ll take your bet! –I answered-
- Oki… Let’s have a look at my crystal ball then.

She hissed and a feathered tiny black devil rushed into the room from out of the blue, jumping on a crystal ball that he pushed to roll towards her. She stopped it with her right hand and shouted at the tiny devil:

- Enough! Now get back to your place, scummy lil’ thing; we don’t need you here anymore!

The black little devil groaned and protested with a shrill voice in that incomprehensible devil’s language. Hellgirl said to him:

- Noo! You can’t pee on my roses! Enough of this bullshit! Come here and meet my friend. Leni, this is Percival Von Der Twit-Wingnutty of Twatshire. From the good old Twatshires of the Suckertown County in Brotania. Bow, Percy.

To my surprise, Percival gave me the finger instead of bowing; he smiled happily, very proud of his rudeness, and shouted “Up with Orsinia!!!” with falsetto voice, raising his right fist. Hellgirl hurled him against the cushions we were sitting on.

- Don’t be rude to my guests, yukky thingy! –she shouted-

Hellgirl turned to me and said:

- Pay no fucking attention to him, Leni. Just two weeks ago he was a stunning and posh Brotanian archduke who sold me his soul on exchange for a luxury cottage; I gave him what he asked for, but he wouldn’t pay me on the agreed date. I can’t put up with deadbeats, so I punished him by changing his appearance into what he looks like now. But from then on, he started following me all over the place, scratching his private parts in public, poking a pinkie up his nose, removing his dark earwax with my pencils, farting and burping… just to annoy me!
- Eeeeeeerp! –went Percival, belch-filled like thunder and throwing a little dark earwax ball to me-
- Eek! He's revolting! –I said, shaking off the sticky thing-
- Oh my Badness Me, Percy! What the fuck have you had for lunch??? Rotten fish cooked with garlic and Brussels sprouts??? You are such a bloody handful! –she screamed, whipping his butt-. Now sit here. Keep quiet once and for all and give me the magic dust.
- Ouch! That hurts! –said Percy with his screaming little voice.
- And it will hurt a lot more if you don’t behave. Now take a cushion and be snug as a bug in a rug, ok?

Percy obeyed. With his tail between his legs, he sat beside us, dug a pile of magic dust out of his pocket and spread it over the crystal ball; the glittering sparkles reached my face, that glowed in the dark for some seconds as Hellgirl closed her eyes to put her spell on the ball. At first, it appeared to be full of white smoke in the inside, but a blurred silhouette soon appeared into the sphere.

- Is Bob the big dark guy? –she asked-
- No. That’s Max. –I answered-
- Hm. Max. Tell me about him.

Geez, what a pain to go over that lousy story again! But Hellgirl seemed to be enjoying the moment.

- Uh oh, so what do we have here? Bob and Max. –she said, clapping very excited-
- Yeah but I’m only interested in Bob. –I said-
- Yet you were with Max, right?
- Yes.
- Take a look at this.

Hellgirl rubbed the crystal ball again; Max suddenly disappeared and two clear images took his place.

- Is Bob the tall blond guy? –asked Hellgirl-
- Yes. And that’s the Orsinian girl, I suppose. –I answered, pointing at the girl in the ball-
- That’s right. Let me introduce you to Miss Tigerlilly Mistyglass Hamseller. Sickly-sweet and way too corny.
- He promised me he wouldn't see her. –I whined, grabbing my head, not taking any notice of her remarks about the name-
- But the funny thing is that you saw Max; and he thought he could have a pass with you for old times’ sake; and he said terrible things to Bob on the phone when he was trying to get through to you; and Bob must be thinking of a million bad things now. Be fair, Leni: Don’t expect the others to treat you well if you treat them wrong.

Hellgirl was right. I started feeling real bad and responsible for my misfortunes.

Oh yes, Tigerlilly: the Orsinian girl. She was so gorgeous and sweet. She had shiny, blond hair piled high on top of her head; not one strand of it was out of place. She lived in a farm near the borderline between Orsinia and Leashland, in the State of New Calexico, happily surrounded by her horses and cattle. The first time I went to Bob's place he had a beautiful picture of her on a shelf. She looked wonderful in her jeans and checked shirt, riding a black horse.

How did I know about all that? Bob told me when we first met, just two months after their break-up. It was easy to talk about these things when we were strangers. But my thoughts and the sight of the two of them having fun inside the crystal ball in Washingdown City left a lump in my throat and also a tear in my eye. That small universe inside the glass made me feel sad as… hell. What a bad bad joke; good thing I still could bother making jokes.

Hellgirl stroked my hair and rolled her eyes.

- I shouldn't be this nice to you. They will kick me off the “Bitches from Hell Council”, hahaha –she laughed, recovering her hellish ways-. Now wipe away those tears. I will help you.

I stopped crying and listened to what she said.

- You know what happens to this guy? He wants you, but he doesn't want to admit it. He prolly loves you, but he denies the obvious. Yet he would hate to lose you. 'Cause love hurts. I've seen it a zillion times. Big mess here. -she said pointing at her head-.

I guess Hellgirl was not that bad after all, because she couldn’t be more sympathetic.

- Leni. Seriously. You must get out of this jam. Speak to him. Call him up and tell him what really happened. You have womanly wiles: seduction, determination, sexual power. Use them to get what you want. You have done this before.
- Why are you doing this? I mean… why are you helping me?
- Because you’re gonna blow it big time if I don’t help you. I can see it coming. And I’m a hopeless romantic whip slasher, I guess. –she said grinning-. Now minimize the drama, Leni, take your cellphone and call him.
- Hm. Is there coverage down here? –I asked-
- Hahahah, of course, silly. Look at Percy. He phones his butler all the time, although the guy declared himself on strike. Free like a bird above the world at last.

She was fixing the broken truck with an adjustable spanner. I took the mobile and phoned Bob.

- Hi, Bob. It’s me. –I said-
- Hi Len.
- Can we talk? -I asked him-
- I’m sorry baby, but now it’s ME the one who can’t talk. –he said before he put the phone down, visibly upset-.

I redialed his number.

- Len. I don’t feel like talking to you now. So please, DON’T INSIST. –he said, and cut me off-.

I didn’t give up and redialed his number for the third time, and I got his voicemail:

"The number you have dialed is not available at the moment. If you wish to leave a message, please do it after the beep."

Hellgirl turned back and asked:

- Bad news?

I nodded, holding back my tears in a rage.

- He switched the cellphone off! Grrrrrrrrr I hate him!!! –I shouted-
- Jeez… this is gonna be harder than I thought. I’m afraid we need a plan. –she sighed, as Percival jumped on my lap to offer a tissue- .

(To be continued)

"Unfinished sympathy" (Massive Attack)

Hellgirl (I)

As you probably know now, anything can happen in an elevator. But, hey! This time it was different. I often had this terrifying recurrent nightmare: being in an elevator, going nowhere.

Believe it or not, last night a white rabbit –probably running away from the bullets of a poacher’s rifle or from my Dreamland Chronicles’ chapters- knocked on my door. I opened it and he asked me to follow him.

He walked towards the elevator and I followed, just like Alice would have done on her way to Wonderland. The door opened slowly. The motion image of a huge fire burning with the weirdest shapes and colours had taken the place of the mirror that was normally there. I walked inside to take a close look. I spotted skulls and dragons twisting; I even saw a battle between a Red and a Yellow Army. I was immediately dragged into the heat and smoke, to drift along in the hypnotic, mesmerizing, bewitching scenery.

The door closed behind me. I was locked, quickly going down. During the trip, a soft girl’s voice said:

“Doesn’t it look a lot like the fire burning inside you? The one you’re contemplating is an Easter fire in the most genuine Saxon tradition. It’s supposed to help chase the darkness and winter away. It’s also a symbol of fertility: the ashes should be scattered over the meadows to fertilize the soil. But nowadays this fire is only meant to bring humans together on a pleasant night, to have some gin or lager and snacks.”

I didn’t know what the purpose of the technical display was: To impress me? To bring forward what was coming? The elevator stopped. To my surprise, I was fully equipped for one of these nowadays Saxon fires: Martini glass and bag of Cheetos in hand. The welcome was unquestionably warm.

- Welcome to Hell, darling. The place where you’ll be burning when you give up the ghost. –said the voice-
- Oh my. I hope it takes long until I do. How can you possibly tell my future? -I asked-
- To be honest, I can’t; but it’s highly predictable: I have your naughty record here, my dear. –she said, pointing at a thick book-
- I can’t believe it is that bad. –I said, a bit concerned-
- It is, indeed. Just in case you didn’t know what the standards are in Hell, let me tell you this: what is bad Upstairs –she said pointing at the ceiling with one finger- is good Downstairs. You understand that, right?

I nodded.

- Let me introduce myself: my true name would be too complicated for you to pronounce, but I am very well known in your world as Hellgirl.
- Nice to meet you. I‘m Leni.
- I know that. In fact I know you very well, Leni. Or Len. –she giggled- I follow you regularly when I am out of duty.

Hellgirl was simply cute; so delicate and small, her long black hair fell about her, rippling and shining like a cascade. Her big red glowing eyes were casting an incisive look at me. Her beautiful face would make you think she was a nice girl… but no! She had that indescribable wicked touch. I had the strange impression I had seen her before. Not that I had met her, but her face looked amazingly familiar to me. I was eating my last Cheetos when she started saying seriously:

- It has been brought to my attention that you hang around lately with a human male who wears Orsinian flag boxers, puffs blunts that won’t burn while drinking beers with his homies, and have been given the following items by him:

1. A New York Yellow Cab.
2. A truck that doesn’t drive.

- What a filthy piece of junk! What do you need this rubbish for? –she asked-
- Nothing, but I can get into the truck and sit beside him. -I said sighing-
- Aww. That’s cute, Leni. But very stupid. I bet he has no idea about that. Let’s have a look at the rest of the list:

3. A wheelchair that drives, but chops your legs off when you sit on it.
4. A set of blue, red and green smoke grenades and a gas mask.
5. An old fan.
6. Three sea shells: pink, yellow and blue.
7. A dagger and some guns that won’t shoot.
8. A cardboard box.
9. A dead parrott.
10. A dirty toilet with toxic waste inside.
11. And last, but not least: a kiss that never worked.

- Is this the guy who gave you the snowflakes? -she asked-
- How do you know about the snowflakes??? -I said in shock-
- Hahahah, the Sky Officer told me. We had a good laugh!

I couldn't believe supernatural creatures would be laughing at me, humble mortal. I opened my hands and focussed to make snow, but she stopped me:

- Oh, no no. Your tricks won’t work here, honey. Your snowflakes will melt and your hands will become waterfalls. Let me show you something.

She stretched her arms and a circle of red flames surrounded us making a huge noise.

- We have fire and smoke here. Not snow. To be honest, I can't see what’s wrong with flowers, jewels and chocolates, dearie. I can’t believe this army of cheats is still giving their crappy little presents to the dumbest girls on Earth; among them, you.
- Don’t say that! I like these gifts. No one else has given me such things! It’s easier to go to the shop and buy something, but he did them himself!
- These objects he gave you to play with are so lousy! What did you give to him in return?
- I gave him my body. –I said quietly-
- Well, what’s wrong with that. What else did you give to him?

I didn’t dare to answer.

- What else, Leni?
- I gave him my heart. -I whispered slowly-
- Aww that’s cute. Yet you haven’t realised he was playing with you. The next thing is you give him your soul, and you’re finished! It is very ill-advised to give your heart to a man in exchange for… nothing? That was very silly, Leni.
- I expected something in return. –I said shyly-
- But you got nothing, right? Oh yes, a dirty toilet and other dirty stuff.

I didn’t dare to answer this time either.

- Give me your soul and I’ll make you rich, famous, powerful and irresistible… but don’t ever give it to a man. I understand what you did and why you did that, but he won’t appreciate the beauty of your gesture. Men just take what they’re given as if they had the unquestionable right to get it! Selfish creatures! I have loads of them here and they’re a handful! So weak, rough, repulsive, impolite, hard-boiled, smelly, pathetic beings!

"WOW what a rant!", I thought, but I didn't dare to protest, just in case she would decide to scorch me with hellfire. She rolled her eyes and started rhyming a nonsensical poem:

Stupid and big white buffoon
Who holds in his hand a white spoon;
He sits on his white little throne
And is terribly evil gaffe-prone;
He wears on his head a white crown
That will be very soon falling down;
He had fun when he tied you up
While he drank like a fish from his cup;
And he did with a second-hand leash
As he ate a big portion of quiche.

The echo of her laughter resounded all over the place. She cracked her whip and proclaimed:

- They call me Hellgirl, the Whip Slasher!!!

There was a long silence.

- Very impressive. What now? –I said, clapping-.
- Listen, silly: if you give me your soul, I’ll get you Bob the Great's head served on a silver tray when he comes back from Orsinia.
- NEVER! I don’t need your help! I’ll get him all by myself!

Hellgirl roared with laughter. Suddenly he stopped laughing, stared at me with her big dark red glowing eyes and said solemnly:

- I’ll make a bet with you, Leni: If you get Bob without my help I will give you my black magic unicorn. But if you don’t… I’ll blow him back into the arms of the Orsinian girl! How does it grab you?


(To be continued)




"The devil went down to Georgia" (Festus Clamrod and The El Sobrante Twangers)

Reference to Easter Saxon fires taken from Wikipedia and Youtube.

No more Miss Nice Girl

It was one of these Mondays with Big Cheese freaking out. The phone wouldn’t stop going. People were interrupting all the time and running like headless chickens all over. My cell phone went. It was Bob. I didn’t answer. I couldn’t answer. The phone on my desk went. It was Bob again.

- Sorry, I’m in the middle of something right now. –I said-
- Ok. Call me when you finish. I need to speek to you, Len.
- Sure. I will.

Uh oh! Should I expect something serious? Was the worse yet to come? I was dying to speak to him, but God knows what that serious “I-need-to-speak-to-you” meant; I had a feeling that it was not going to be my favourite subject; and I was indeed late for a meeting. I took my notepad and rushed to the corridor, stamping with my heels, when I heard a seductive masculine voice saying:

- Wow! Leni… long time no see!

I turned back and I almost fell backwards when I saw who it was.

- Ooooh! Max! Maxi! Maximilian Brantsch! I can’t believe it! Nice to see you after… eight years? What are you doing here? –I asked-
- A business meeting with one of your colleagues. Jeez, Leni! Look at yourself! You look simply gorgeous!
- Thanks Max. You’re not bad either!
- And what are you doing here? –he asked me-
- I work for the GM’s Office. Boring protocol stuff.
- Wow, you’re always the top, wherever you go, eh?
- Nah! That’s tiresome stuff. Nobody notices what I do, except when things go wrong!
- Oh, don’t be so modest!

Max and I dated at college. He was a handsome, ironic as hell, clever as can be, cold as ice alpha male from Zantland.

We were very much in love in our student days; but after some ups and downs, we broke up, lost track and never heard from each other anymore. And there he was: in his blue jacket and tie, handsome and elegant as ever.

I stared at him.

- Oh man, this is great! I can’t believe you’re here! –I said-
- Me neither! Leni, I must be going now but I’d love to meet up and talk. Excuse me if I sound pushy, but are you available for lunch? –he asked, giving me his business card, including his mobile number-.
- Of course, Maxi! And you don’t sound pushy at all. I’d love to have lunch together.
- Can I pick you up at… say one o’clock here?
- Sure!

Max was right there at the agreed time. Prompt like a Swiss watch; typical Zantlander. If you ever meet up with me, you should know that I’m never on time. Unforseen circumstances will always make me be 5-10-15 minutes late; but some think waiting for me is worth the effort.

Max waited patiently for 20 minutes until I left the ladies’ room, absolutely radiating.

- Sorry for being late, Max. My meeting has just finished -((which was false, but a good excuse))-
- It was worth waiting!
- Aww thanks! –I said, flattered-.

Max and I had lunch at a super posh French restaurant he had chosen especially for the occasion. We ordered a delicious vichysoisse and canard à l’orange. He asked for a bottle of their best Taittinger: raised his cup; looked at me right between the eyes and said:

- This toast is for you, sweety. And for the good old times. Cheers!
- Cheers!

I smiled at him; the good old times. I could see what was coming. I thought back and remembered when we were at the Faculty. It was nice, but he was way too determined and demanding for my taste. And he hadn’t changed a bit.

- Are you engaged, Leni? Married, perhaps?

There he was, giving me the third degree; and there I was, acting like a rat in a trap.

- I see you haven’t changed a bit, Maxi. You’re still so inquisitive. The answers to your questions are no and no. I expect this satisfies your unsatiable curiosity. –I said-.
- It does. Yet there’s something I don’t understand. What happens to the South Sandwich guys? Are they blind? Or maybe are you too picky about them? –he said, smiling a hyper-super-mega smile-
- Mishmash. What about you? –I asked, smiling back-
- Nobody loves me, honey. I’m afraid I work too much and there’s no time left for romance –he laughed-

We laughed and drank for the old times.

- Do you need to go back to work in the afternoon? –asked Max-
- Not really, I was planning to work at home in my laptop.
- That sounds great; now let me be a little naughty, baby: how about having a nap together? Just like in the old times?

We used to do that in the past. But we didn’t sleep much. I looked at him, raising an eyebrow. I could see his little game.

- I won’t touch you. –he said -
- Then why do you want to have a nap with me? –I asked-
- Because I need some love and care. I need to be looked after.
- By me.
- By you, yes.

My cell phone went. My heart skipped a beat. It was Bob again.

- Sorry Bob, I’m having lunch right now. –I said -.
- I see. Ok, Len. Call me when you’re done, please. I need to speak to you.
- I will.

Max pretended he was not listening. But he was.

- Who the hell is that Bob?
- Someone from the office. -((false again))-
- Is he bugging you?
- Not at all.
- He sounds a little pushy.
- No, he’s not.

So we went to Max’s hotel, and I began wondering what the hell I was doing there. I started squeezing my brains trying to find the politest way to tell him I had to go. But my mouth went dry and I found myself stuck in his Palace Hotel Suite.

- Can I offer you a drink, honey? –he asked-
- A Coke will do.
- Come on. A soft drink?
- You know I don’t drink, Max. I’ll have that Coke.

We sat on a huge sofa. I was on one end; he made his move and approached me.

- So tell me, Max. What have you been doing all these years?

He told me about his professional life. He was a successful lawyer; with successful achievements; successful earnings; successful targets. Successful anything.

I started feeling successful drowsiness induction. I was up at 6AM every morning and Max’s ego was certainly exhausting. As he kept on talking, my eyelids were getting so heavy that I fell asleep slowly and softly. Hard to believe, but true. I woke up at the sound of a kiss in my neck. That was scary!

- Max. –I said-
- Yeah, what?
- Take it easy, ok?

He stepped back, with his hands up, pretending he was not going to touch me, as he had said before. But not for very long. He sat beside me, put his arms around me and asked:

- Baby, don’t you feel like …
- Hm… I… I haven’t shaved.

That was false too, but I had to try; it works sometimes.

- I don’t object. I don’t object at all –he said-.

It was gonna be tougher than I expected.

- Leni, wouldn’t you like to…
- I have no condoms. – I said immediately -
- How come? You always took the pill! And I am clean! You know that! –he cried in desperation-
- Oh no, I don’t know that now! Unless you haven’t shagged anyone after me, which I suppose is not true. And for your info, I’m not taking the pill. I don’t have a regular partner now.

I was one-nil up.

- What the fuck! Let’s go get a box of condoms at the drugstore. –he said-

I locked myself in the bathroom to think for some seconds what I should do. When I went back to the suite, Max was waiting for me with a condom in his hand.

- Hey baby, look at this! I could find a Mate in my toilet bag. Are you up for a game of shag tag?

I had to leave the hotel, whatever it took, before he would take his pants off. He wouldn’t take a “no” for an answer even if I talked to him until I was blue in the face. Suddenly, before I could say anything, my cell phone went. It was Bob again. The whole situation was making me very nervous.

- I can’t speak right now Bob. I’ll call you later. –I said-
- It’s late here Len. I’m terribly tired. I need to go to bed.
- What’s your time?
- Ten in the evening. I have got horrible jet lag and I need some rest.
- I’m sorry but I can’t speak now. I’ll call you tomorrow.
- I assume the idea of talking to me doesn’t make you very happy. Am I right?
- Shit! I am telling you I can’t speak right now! –I said to Bob-

Max snatched the cell phone from me and shouted at Bob on the phone:

- Can help you, mate? What is it you want? Maybe you don't know this, but I’m afraid you’re breaking into something important.

I couldn’t believe what was happening there.

- Hey! Are you deaf or something? She said she can’t speak to you, wanker! So stop fucking already, ok? –said Max-.

He put the cell phone down and gave it back to me. I was so furious.

- Are you crazy? Why have you done that? Put your Mate back into your toilet bag! We’re not doing anything! We will never do anything! That’s that! –I shouted at him-

I slammed the door, turned my cell phone off and dashed out of the room.

Give me a break!!!

Goodnight to you, wherever you are.



"Shame for you" (Lily Alen)

A distant flashing light

A lonesome night like that one deserved something more than just a boring TV show and a glass of hot milk in my nightie. Enjoying the blues would not be such a pleasure without a trip to the skies and some meditation about the latest events in my life.

I put my flying bracelet on and took the highest flight ever: through the atmosphere, above the world. The air was pure and clean. On my way up I met a flock of humble swallows heading down to Africa and three golden eagles in search for a sanctuary, escaping extermination.

After a ten-minutes vertical flight I ran into a white rocket that landed on a cloud bank. Through the small window I saw a spacewoman working on the control systems. I had a look on tiptoe, as she opened the hatch. She removed her helmet and said:

- Goodnight –she said-. Everything ok?
- Goodnight. Yes, I guess so. I‘ve just arrived.
- I’m the Sky Officer on duty tonight.
-Nice to meet you. Leni here. Apprentice writer.

We shook hands formally. I didn’t know there was a Sky Army; least of all that there would be Sky Officers; but to be honest, it didn’t impress me. I had seen it all before.

- I wonder if you could move these clouds a little to the left. I can’t see the Restless Ocean. Maybe you could even drop a bit of rain on my country: The South Sandwich Islands. We are suffering from severe draught. I supose you could take it away from Zeewland. I heard they’re having floods over there.
- I wish I was powerful enough to do that, but I’m just the engine driver. Running the world is the Supreme Being’s work. My Boss. I’ll ask Her.
- Is the Supreme Being a woman? –I asked, very surprised-.
- As true as the stars above! –she answered-
- Jeez! You should know there is a guy impersonating Her! I know a real man who goes spreading around that he is the Supreme Being!
- Oh! Typical man! They all proclaim the same stuff! She has the exclusivity on that; they can only imitate the magic and the fireworks, so no worries.
- He showed me how to make snow fall!
- That’s cute, Leni, but just a good trick to flirt with you. Let me see how it goes.

I closed my eyes; breathed in and focussed. A thousand snowflakes blew up from the palms of my hands and started quietly falling on us.

- Aww that’s lovely. Nice special effects. I bet he worked on it for hours. They start giving you a free ride on their flashy merry-go-round; then they orbit you on a satellite; one fine day then they invite you to a sex piano session, to end up waving goodbye and taking off on a white pegasus. And that's that. Ask him to show you something UNIQUE and then you tell me. I bet it’ll be a shoddy piece of work. –she said, as she cracked up laughing-

Did I have to stand up for men in heaven as well? What a bad press they had up in the sky! Yet I adored my snowflakes! But she left me wondering when my sex piano session invite would arrive.

- What's wrong with the sex piano? -I asked-

- Nothing I guess, as long as you don't get mesmerized by the player of the melody. -she laughed-

- Hm... so women have won the war of the sexes in the Afterlife? –I asked-
- Yeah. A great battle indeed; we won and made peace with Heaven's guys. But the truth is… between me and you… that the guys from Hell are a lot more fun!

I could understand that.

- So Leni, what are you up to in heavenly realms? -she asked-.
- Wondering about my future. One hell of a guy! –I said, sighing and drawing in the air the shape of a heart-.
- Hm… as a Sky Officer it is my duty to advise you not to do silly things, such as having your hair cropped or dyed blood red. Terrestrial statistics suggest that some women do this kind of weird stuff when they get heartbroken.
- I won’t.
- Just in case you would. That’s typical dissorderly female behaviour. Don’t do that, Leni. Keep your brunette bobstyle there, ok?

I nodded. Suddenly, a pigeon landed on my cloud and interrupted our conversation:

- I am Wilbur’s cousin.
- Who’s Wilbur? - I asked-
- The one your friend killed in the forests of Lowenia yesterday and is intending to have cooked to treat you to lunch. Wilbur –rest in peace- had a wife and three chicks.

Urgh, that! I felt like a serial killer. But I had been only an accesory to the serial killer, not the real culprit. Anyway, I decided to proceed tactfully and stand up for the mystic hunter.

- My sincere condolences to Wilbur’s family; I’m very sorry for your loss. As for my friend… I have no doubt it was a most unfortunate accident. And just for your information: That lunch is very unlikely to happen.
- How come? -asked Wilbur's cousin, raising an eyebrow-
- Because me and my friend are not on good terms right now. -I answered-
- How come?
- He pissed me off.
- How come?

I sighed.

- It’s a very long story and I don’t think you want to hear it. -I said-
- That’s right. I’m not here to listen to that murderer's stories but to bring him a message: tell him to go vegetarian or the Pigeons Council of Lowenia will chop his head off and take a goal-kick with it. I have spoken.

Wilbur’s cousin flew away before I could even answer back.

- Hey! I get it now! –said the spacewoman- Now I understand why something was flashing in Washingdown City. I can see into your future, but I’m not allowed to tell you. –she smiled and winked-. We know everything up here.

The Sky Officer walked back to her spacecraft.

- I must be going before you start asking, Leni. But I recommend you be careful in your dreams. Remember this: the mystic hunter will get in touch. His flash will reach you soon.
- When? And how?
- Don’t ask. I've already said too much. Safe paths, me dear! -she said, waving goodbye-

- Safe paths! Be well! -I said, waving back at her-

As the spacecraft took off, I saw thick storm clouds approaching from the east. I wrapped myself in a warm cloud blanket.

I closed my eyes; blew a kiss from the palms of my hands and let my snowflakes fall on Washingdown City, where a distant light was still flashing.

Goodnight to you, wherever you are.



"Worry about you" (Ivy)

Video: Clip from "Kingdom Hospital", the TV series bassed on Lars Von Trier's film "The Kingdom", developed for TV in 2004 by Stephen King.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kingdom_Hospital

Mystic hunting (III)

The morning after, we woke up to the buzz of his cell phone, which he had set the night before to start at 7AM. As he opened is eyes, I put my arms around his neck and kissed him deeply.

- Good morning. –I said, beaming at him happily-.
- Good morning, sweety. Did you sleep alright? –he asked, smiling -.
- I slept like a rock. You too, I think.

He nodded.

- Let’s get ready, Len. We should go into the woods before birds and rabbits can smell the danger.

After a hot coffee, we walked into the forest. He led the way.

- Hunting is a primary instinct lost by urban men. To stalk an animal, just you and the wild, and follow it silently until you hunt it; to feel the strength of your unknown skills and the potential of your survival efforts immediately showing… that’s a bit of a mystic experience. Extreme situations say a lot about a person.

I never thought hunting had a mystic side that would make me feel alive. That it would open my eyes to a world of mysteries I had never paid attention to and discoveries worth finding out.

Bob often enjoyed saying that he was a social dropout; a doomthinker; a pain in the ass. But to me he was outstanding in a crowd; wildly different; wildly delicious; wildly unique. Invisible bruises on his skin spoke for the many times he had been misunderstood. He had the scent of extravagance about him and I loved his charming wackiness. In fact, I liked it to the point that sometimes it scared the hell out of me.

- Len. Come closer. Stay quiet. Look at that–he said-.

He pointed at a pigeon that was pecking on the ground right in front of us. I approached him. He gave me the rifle and whispered softly:

- All yours, baby.

That was rather different than aiming and shooting at the furry rabbit.

- I can’t, Bob. I’m sorry. I can’t do this. –I said, putting the rifle down-

He took the rifle from my hands. I saw in slow motion how the pigeon was shot in the head. A cloud made of small feathers blew up in the air as it flipped over to collapse violently on the ground, leaving a small trace of blood.

- I’m sorry, Bob. I couldn’t do that.
- Are you okay, babe? –he asked-
- No, I’m not. I have disappointed you –I answered, looking down-
- Come on, Len. You could never disappoint me, no matter how hard you tried. –he said smiling, as he put the pigeon into his pouch-.

We walked for almost two hours into the depths of the forest, until we arrived to the pool of a small river fall surrounded by rows of wild flowers that looked like a multicolour psychedelic dream.

For some seconds I thought we would be passionately shagging on the flowers or into the freezing cold water, to run the risk of drowning. That would have added some kinkiness and fun.

But no. We shyly sat by the bank and dipped our feet into the water instead, as he started throwing pebbles in the river.

- How long we have known each other, Len? –asked Bob, seriously-
- Three months, I think.
- I’m happy of what we have.
- You’re happy of what we have…? -I said, expecting a further explanation-
- A very good friendship.
- Ah, ok. -I said, hiding my puzzlement-.

Ah, the burning passion! Do friends shag? Do they fuck hard in elevators and forests?

After the hunting, we walked back to the camp, where we had some ham sandwiches before we packed our things to go back to town.

- What are you going to do with the pigeon? –I asked-
- I’ll cook a wonderful stew and have lunch with you -he laughed-
- Cool rhyme. But I have one condition: take it to the vet before you cook it. Just in case it had the bird pest.
- Hahahahaha, you mean the bird flu, perhaps?
- I mean anything!

Back in the streets of Grytviken, we went for a coffee at the Main Alley.

- Gotta tellya something, Len: I won’t be around for a few days. I’m flyin’ to Orsinia next week.
- Oh. Where to?
- Washingdown City. I’m building a huge parking lot and back-up facilities. I have a great deal of work to do there.
- Oh. And how long are you going to be out?
- Two weeks, I think. Maybe more.
- Ok.
- I’m not gonna see her, if you’re wondering.

That really annoyed me.

- No, Bob. I’m not fucking wondering. I am sick to the back teeth. You can see whomever you want in Orsinia. That’s none of my business, as far as I’ve been told.
- You don’t have to go telling everybody, ok?

I looked in front of me and saw a big group of homeless guys gathering around us. One of them -who appeared to be the boss-, was listening carefully to our conversation. Bob sat beside him on the sidewalk and pointing at the hat filled with coins on the floor, asked him:

- How much have you earned today, dude?
- The day is not over yet. I still can make as much as 30G every half hour.
- Dang! I may consider coming over here to sit beside you and put my hat on the floor as well, if you don’t object!
- I won’t object, brother! Be my guest!
- Thanks! Can I take a snapshot of you for my collection?
- Of course you can. But let me ask you something first: are you Orsinian?
- No. I’m Zewlander.
- And you, little lady? –the homeless asked me-
- I was born on this island-I said-
- Excellent. Fuck Orsinia then! I hate it! –he said, lifting his left fist-
- Yeah, me too –said Bob, lifting his left fist as well-.
- So how come you talk like a fucking Orsinian imperialist, mate? –asked the beggar pointing at Bob’s face-. Why do you say stuff like “dude”, “gotta tellya”, “parking lot”, “gonna be”, “dang”? Those words should never be in the vocabulary of an anti-Orsinian activist.
- Because he has an Orsinian girlfriend, and everything sticks! -I shouted at Bob-
- That’s not true! –Bob shouted back at me-
- You still have her in the back of your mind! You even wear those boxers with the Orsinian flag that she gave you!!!
- Pack it in!

All the beggars started guffawing. The roar of laughters could be heard for miles around. I should have never unveiled the secret of Bob's Orsinian boxers to the hostile audience. I reckon I was very nasty there.

- Hey! Love and peace, guys! –said the homeless guy-
- That’s ok, MATE. –said Bob with a low voice and very annoyed-.

Bob faced me and said:

- Tell me something Len: Once and for all, are we dating? –he asked me-
- You tell me! That’s your sensitive point, not mine! Have you ever noticed that I always let you do the phoning, just in case you felt under pressure? And that I’m always available for you whenever you call me?

He didn’t answer. The homeless guy approached me and asked:

- He does that???
- Yeah, he does that! He phones me up to go out and I follow him like a lost puppy! Yet he goes on about the same old tune: “I-don’t-want-a-relationship”.
- Hmm. May I suggest you try another one? There’s plenty of fish in the sea, missy! Just have a look! –he said, pointing at his colleagues, who were not missing a word-.

Some waved hello. Some others took their hats off and smiled at me. I waved and smiled back.

- I appreciate your advice and the offer, guys, but I’m not looking for a relationship either. I’m just sick and tired of Orsinia popping up everywhere. That’s all.

Bob was freaking out.

- Len, there’s no need to go telling everyone about the two of us! –he said, pointing at the homeless guys-.
- The two of us? How funny is that! It’s ok, Bob, I’ve had it! I’ll only hang around or whatever the hell you want to do with me, on an equal basis. So I may not be available next time you phone me up. You have been warned –I said, pointing at him with my threatening finger-

I took my backpack and walked towards the rack behind the bus stop, where my bike should be locked, but I couldn’t find it. “Shit! Stolen!” I knew the gang of homeless guys had taken it.

- Just 5 G missy! Special offer! –said one of the homeless guys, who appeared from out of the blue, proudly showing my bike-
- 5G??? MY ARSE!!! GIVE ME BACK MY BIKE OR YOU’RE LOSING YOUR BALLS!!! LET’S SEE HOW YOU LIKE THEM UP YOUR ASS!!!

The homeless boss told his friend to give it back to me for free on the spot. I bowed to thank him.

- Wow, what a character! –he said -
- Yeah, I know. Spanish and Italian descent; and born here –answered Bob laughing-
- Gosh, what an explosive mixture, mate. Do you like her?
- Yes. A lot.
- So what’s the problem with the missy? Or is it you? Are you afraid, ho hum or just taking your time? Gals sometimes need to be told nice stuff. But that doesn’t mean you have to say the “L” word. Take care, mate. That one is a bit wild for a cold Zeewlander like you.
- Sure. Thanks for the advice.
- Oh, no thanks. That will cost you 50G.
- No way!
- I don’t give advice for free, mate. This is a noble art - he said, extending his hand-

Bob nodded and gave him the 50G. He probably assumed it was my bike’s ransom, so he paid happy. He and the homeless guy stood there looking at me. I had heard enough. I started pedalling, as I heard Bob shout:

- Let me cycle home with you, Len!
- Too late, dude! Give my regards to the Orsinians! Call me when you make up your mind, if it ever happens! BON VOYAGE! –I shouted back as I waved goodbye-


Goodnight to you, wherever you are.




All I really want (Alanis Morissette)

Mystic hunting (II)

Bob and I travelled to the forests of Lowenia on Friday afternoon. We walked for one hour carrying our loaded backpacks before we found a clearing, where we camped.

He had brought his rifle and a box of ammunition that he carried in a padded soft-sided case.

- Let’s have a shooting class, Len. Tomorrow we will go hunting. Now take the gun. Don’t hesitate. You should be more afraid of those who shoot than of the gun itself.

He was eager to teach me everything about the rifle: its parts; how to carry it safely; hold it against my shoulder; load the cartridges; choose a safe backstop; when to action the trigger. We walked towards a steep bank free of rocks and left a furry rabbit there.

- Your target, Len. Stare at it. Then aim and shoot. Quickly. Carefully. Softly.

Listening to him you would think it was so easy. Of course, my first shots were a total disaster. The gun kick-back made me step a little backwards every time I shoot. Bob put his hands on his hips and stood behind me watching closely what I was doing until I ran into him, pushed by my last shot.

- I don’t think I’ll ever learn. –I said, discouraged-
- You will, Len. Everyone does. You will be a first-class shooter. Now focus on the target. You can do it.

I seized the gun tightly; he put his arms around me; gently took my hands to correct the position of my fingers on the rifle’s trigger and butt, and whispered into my ear: “Much better this way: light and easy. Relax and concentrate. Try now, baby.”

How the hell was I supposed to concentrate being so near him??? I was amazed at his coldness and balance; his steady hand; his penetrating voice; his piercing look. I couldn’t take any notice of what he was telling me. I had to make a superhuman effort to lift the rifle again; become lost in thought; focus on the furry rabbit; breathe slow and deep; aim; pull the trigger; hit the target.

- Great, Len! That was cool. Now fire some more shots before we have dinner, just to train. I’ll be putting up the tepee. Oh, just two things: Firstly, I would most appreciate your not shooting in my direction. And secondly, in the event of a police raid please shout, so that I can run in the opposite direction, ok?

I nodded ‘Yes’ and laughed. Some time later, we sat by the fire and had a delicious dish of scrambled eggs and bacon. “Hunter’s dinner” –he said-.

The full moon projected a mysterious light on us and the sky was a jewel-box of stars. I had never seen a sky like that before. It smelled of musk, of pine tree and fresh grass.

It was almost midnight when all of a sudden, a fireball quickly crossed the sky and we were enlightened by a big yellow flash. We looked at each other in amazement.

- What the hell is happening there? What was that? –I asked, pointing at the sky-.
- A small burning meteorite that disintegrated when entering Earth’s atmosphere. It was… spectacular, wasn’t it? –he answered, very calm-
- Yeah! But how can you tell the aliens are not invading us? How do you know it’s not an Orsinian nuclear weapon test? Or the Mother of All Storms starting the next Anti-glaciation Era?
- No worries, Len. This planet is definitely doomed to disaster, but I’m afraid that the meteor was totally harmless. Anyways… don’t wake me up if the aliens are landing, please. I need to go hunting tomorrow. I don’t wanna be the party pooper, but we should go to sleep, baby. Tomorrow we have to get up early.
- Oh, ok. Into the tepee, right?
- Unless you want to catch a bad cold.
- Sure. I hope we don’t get burnt as we sleep. –I said, pointing at the fire-
- Hm. That would be fun. I could have you roasted for breakfast. That would save me the shooting tomorrow.
- Some guys can certify I taste delicious!
- I bet you must be sweet like sugar and spice, baby –he said smiling and brushing my cheek-.

He put the fire out and we went into the tepee, where I was solemnly told that some rules needed to be observed there: Bob draw a line on the floor and pointed at it.

- Now Len, from this line to the left, it’s my place. From the line to the right, it’s yours. Don’t claim for more room, ok? Otherwise I’ll kick you out. I need my eight-hours sleep.
- Boy, my place is a lot smaller!
- You are a lot smaller than me and therefore don’t need that much room.
- Sounds very unfair to me!
- This is my tepee and these are my rules.
- Ok, I’ll sleep outside, then! –I said, taking my sleeping bag and leaving in a rage-
- Cool, I’ll sleep like a baby, then! –he shouted from the tepee-
- You’ll wake the rabbits up shouting like that!!! -I shouted back-

I was stretching my sleeping bag out on the ground while Bob was watching me from the tepee’s door.

- Come here; don’t be silly, Len.
- You’re a bully! Don’t talk to me!
- I will do it as many times as I want! And I’ll drag you inside the tepee, whether you like it or not!
- Grrrrrrrr!
- Come on in!
- NO!
- Want a beef, missy? –he asked, laughing-

What a silly thing to do to challenge me like that: the answer would be always yes. He left the tepee, spun around and stared at me with that burning look I couldn’t resist.

- Get ready, chicken. I’ll shatter you. You should be ashamed: a big guy like you fighting against a small girl like me –I said, threatening him with my fists-.
- I didn’t know you were so silly to accept a fight against Bob the Great, but you asked for it. This is war!
- Oh don’t get so cocky! Come here and fight!

He rushed towards me, seized my wrists with his right hand, lifted me up and carried me inside the tepee.

- Good. That was fast, just as I expected. And I tied you up. You're brave and spirited, baby, but you can't possibly win! –he laughed-
- Grrrrrrrrr! -I complained, pretending I was furious-
- Dang, what a character! I love it! –he said-

I protested and kicked the air. “Let him have his fun”, I thought. He carefully dropped me on the floor.

- Thanks. I’ll get my sleeping bag now. –I said-
- Hey. Don’t. Stay where you are. Let me offer you a place in my humble bed, babe. You’ll be warm here. Which side of the bed do you sleep on?

He unzipped the sleeping bag, unfolded it and tapped his fingers on it. I smiled; almost melted. “You don’t need your pj here, by the way” –he said, looking at me with naughty eyes-

I kneeled beside him and he slowly undressed me; his hands touched my skin running down my body as blissful dizziness blurred my vision. I kissed his lips and pushed my tongue into his mouth.

- Do you want to fuck me, Bob? –I asked, gazing into his eyes-.

He laughed at my cockyness and nodded.

- I didn’t hear you –I whispered seriously, as I straddled him-.
- I have nodded. You’re evil, Len. –he said, staring at me with his big blue eyes, cool as ice of a thousand years in the making-.

I slowly kissed his neck and whispered into his ear:

- What did you say?
- I said yes –he answered, breathing as he stroked my butt-.

I slid my right hand inside his boxers. He moaned “Oh… that’s good”.

- Do you really want to fuck me, Bob? -I whispered again-.
- Yes, I so want to fuck you, babe –he said panting, rock hard-.

He pulled my string aside and teased me mercilessly.

- That's not badly enough. –I said-
- Jeez, I wanna fuck you real hard, Len! –he said impatiently-
- Say it again! -I whispered-
- I can't take any more teasing! I wanna fuck you real hard!–he said breathlessly-.
- Excellent. That’s exactly what I wanted to hear. Fuck me NOW.

I wrapped my legs around his waist and stopped teasing him. He released his breath with a loud moan as he started sliding in and out of me. "Don't stop!" -I screamed with every thrust, until the two of us were swallowed again by a twister into another set of violent kozmik spasms of pleasure.

- Wow baby... that was awesome as ever! But I could have killed you on the spot. You’re a sexy devil. I should have gagged you too, by the way. They must have heard you within a ten miles radius.

- Yes, I'm a bit noisy. And evil. You should know by now.

I smiled, satisfied and self-confident. He quickly fell asleep into my arms, with a smile on his face.

(To be continued).





"Closer" (Nine inch nails) KROQ concert 2005- L.A.

Mystic hunting (I)

A tediously boring documentary on the Republic of Mornia (1) –a remote country that I couldn’t even place in the map- was on the TV. I was painting my toenails pink when the phone went.

- Hi Len. It’s me –said a male voice-.

You must be wondering who the hell it was and how the hell I bloody perfectly knew who it was.


- Wow! The dude who likes doing really naughty things in elevators! -I said-
- Yeah, the selfsame one!

We hadn’t spoken since that night at the elevator. Some days had passed but I didn’t dare to call him; I thought it was better to leave the ball on his roof. When I heard his voice again, I shuddered with pleasure and accidentally spilled some pink nail polish on my feet.

- Hey Len, are you there? –he asked-.
- I’m here, yes. How is it going?
- Perfect! How are you?
- I’m fine, thanks.
- Tell me, babe… do you have any plans for the weekend?
- Hm… not yet.
- That’s cool. Just in case Walt the Jerk would ask you out… give him the finger again, please. Would you like to go shooting with me?

Jeez. Shooting. I knew he enjoyed playing online war games, but I never thought he enjoyed real shooting. Some of his interests were history, wars and weapons. He was a natural born player and the kind of guy who needed an overwhelming victory from time to time. He played Enemy Territory (2) as a lonely soul; as a mercenary who would never team up. He released his spare adrenaline aiming at any moving target in his monitor, under the name of “Alec Magnus”.

Some days after we had met, he asked me what my e-mail was and sent me a summary of his weekly sessions, including a screenshot of the winners’ ranking –where he was the best- adding only this short sentence: “Alec Magnus strikes again”. From the very beginning I knew he was not the kind of guy who washes his car every Sunday.

I have always been afraid of firearms –of any kind of arms, in fact- and fiercely opposed to them. And about hunting… I could never understand why anyone would want to shoot a wild animal. That was definitely against my principles. I started squeezing my brains trying desperately to think of the politest way to say I wouldn’t go without hurting him.

- I’d love to, Bob. But I’ve never gone shooting. Fishing with my mom and dad in summer in a river overcrowded with trouts when I was a kid, is the closest I’ve ever been to hunting. -I said-
- It doesn’t matter, Len. I’ll teach you. That will be fun.
- With my kind of bad luck I’ll probably end up blowing a hole right through your feet!

We laughed. My first attempts to decline his invitation didn’t seem to be working. I continued talking as I looked for a credible excuse.

- I didn’t know you were a hunter, Bob –I said-
- I've been a hunter pretty much all my life, but I've never really shot anything terribly big. Only rabbits and pigeons.
- Hm. I suppose you have a license.
- Wrong assumption, baby.
- Oh my gawd! You’re a poacher!!!
- Yeah missy, my pleasure! This adds a charming touch to my hunting. But I am most confident: should anything happen to me, you could always be my lawyer.
- I don't think I could possibly do that!!! On top of it I will be shooting with you, the authorities will catch me too!!!
- Aww… what a lovely rhyme! Wouldn’t it be nice to go to jail together, Len?

I needed some seconds to catch my breath.

- At least I hope you don’t eat what you hunt. - I said-
- What do you mean?
- Say that you shoot a rabbit; will you cook it and eat it?
- Yeah, what’s the problem?
- It hasn’t passed the sanitation control.
- My rabbit has been naturally fed with organic stuff. No hormones. No stress in its blood. It has lived in the open air. Not encaged in a farm, but enjoying total freedom. What’s wrong with that?

My thoughts were getting very controversial at that point. I wouldn’t betray my ideas but my will was getting weaker all the time: I was quickly and dangerously running out of excuses.

- Say yes, Len.
- I wouldn’t trust you with a gun in your hands. I don’t even know if I can trust you without a gun!
- You're very funny, babe, but you know you can trust me. With or without a gun.

Bob was very persistent. I was struggling with the balance of pros and cons. I started thinking that maybe I didn’t have to be that strict, as far as my principles were concerned.

- Where are we going? What do I need to take? And how long are we gonna be out? -I asked-

- Forests of Lowenia (3). I’ll take care of the hunting stuff. We will be out Friday and Saturday and back home on Sunday morning.
- Hm… and where are we supposed to sleep?

- In the open air if it’s warm. In my tepee if it rains.

- I haven’t slept in a tepee since my college days and I swore to God I would never do that again unless I would be suffering from severe alcohol intoxication.

- Get pissed, then. But I won’t let you shoot if you do. I have a warm sleeping bag for two. But I’m sorry to say I won’t share it with you. And this was not meant to rhyme.

I smiled.

- That’s ok. Stop the cheap poetry. I have my own sleeping bag. -I said-

- Cool. I know what you’re asking yourself right now.

- Oh, it seems that this evening you can read my mind. And what is it, if I may ask.

- Yes, you may. You’re asking yourself if this is the bag where I used to sleep with my ex.

Fucking Orsinian babe again.

- Frankly my dear, I don't give a rat's ass!!!

- Yes, we used to sleep in it.

- Ok, thanks for this valuable piece of information. I hope you disinfect germs carefully before I get in, if I ever do, which is very unlike to happen out of Dreamland!

- We agree at last, baby. It won’t happen; not in a million years. Not even if you implore me on your bended knees! –he said, dying of laughter-

And then there was silence.

- Now seriously, Len, I know what you’re thinking: you’re against fire arms; against shooting and hunting; against illegalities; and last but not least: against my taste for transgressions, right? -he said-
- No, I really like your taste for transgressions. Honest.
- Do you think I'm an aggressive guy? Tell me, please. In all honesty.

- No, Bob, I don't.

- That’s cool, baby. Join me then. You will discover secrets about yourself that you haven't noticed yet but were always there, lurking like ghosts in the shadows of your soul: the sweet taste of wildness in your blood; the intense feeling of your primary instincts; the dark mistery of your animality hidden; the mystic experience of being one with nature; the magic brutality that you can control at all times and the pleasure you will be experiencing when you set it free. Let me give you a different perspective, so you can have more elements of judgement. Only then you will be able to decide what you want to think.

Gosh, how could I possibly say no??? This could be messy but I decided to run the risk: I had no choice but surrender my heart to his fascinating words.

- Ok Bob, I’ll go shooting with you.

(To be continued)

(1) Mornia: Another fictionnal country. The most remote and deadly boring fictionnal country on Earth.
(2) Enemy Territory, previously known as Wolfenstein, is an online multi-player game, where the players interact with each other over a network in two teams (Allies and Axis) to defend or destroy mission objectives during WW2.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wolfenstein:_Enemy_Territory
http://www.enemyterritory.com/

(3) Forests of Lowenia: Fictionnal place too.

The Doors "The ghost song"