Wednesday, November 30, 2016

FOR A SUN: RETOUR DU ROI


IT WAS MADCHEN! that's what you waited all week for, IT'S MADCHEN!

Madchen emerges from the crack of the aquamarine gem. ass first coincidentally. she is calmly clammy. a finger of hers falls off, turns into a sword, then poofs away in a sick yellow cloud. she is naked and her auburn hair flows more than usual cos there's more of it cos it hasn't been cut in like forever. it flows in the windless late afternoon. her skin is glistening and almond-milk, not pale and sallow as you'd think being trapped in essentially a tiny ufo in space for months on end.

Madchen: jealous. you ladies got the sun. my tan needs work.

three female devotees fall humbly to her feet.

Carmen: oh my goddess...

Madchen: call me mama. i'm just like you.

Carmen: mom...

Madchen: mama

Carmen: we missed you terribly. we longed for your stewardship.

Madchen: i knew you gals'd handle it. you're women. of big butts and sturdy hips and strong lips. i really needed a long nap after all that Earth shit.

Carmen: yes my liegess, we still mourn for your son. a terrible irrevocable loss.

Madchen: don't let this white skin fool you, i have every right to be goth but i'm not. the rest did more than revitalize me, it rejuvenated me. i'm sad but cynical. my trauma is tempered. i'm still adorable but a little angry. more a bitch than a witch. i love you guys. missed ya.

they hug for an hour. Harfi holds on a bit more.

Hilary: what the hell is going on here?

the reunited beauty-shop quartet wipe away tears. Madchen's tears are saltier.

Harfi: your return brings it all back. like a flood. in my eyes. i miss Hartwin. i loved Hartwin. more than you. he was my first. my one and only.

Madchen: okay, that's enough hugging. i know, dear. let's not get crazy but i know, dear. he was my first son. my one and only.

Harfi: you are kinder than i remembered.

Herlina: *with sparkle eyes* you are more beautiful than i remember.

Carmen: you have more gravitas than i remember.

Madchen: that's the thing with memory, everything gets forgotten. i am proud of my girls. you survived the deep trenches of space. you fought off all aggression and even had a mild romance along the way.

Harfi: no.

Carmen: no.

Herlina: kinda.

Madchen: that's a problem, mis amigas. we women need to use our wiles for wilds. it's not a space opera without the star fucking. we'll get to that, there's time. for now we must reinforce our orientation. i'm starving AF. you were strong. female strength is like an ant's strength, imperceptible and unexpected.

Hilary: what the fuck is going on here?

Madchen: oh hello. hey aren't you that lady who ran for President? sorry i'm not as obsessed with politics as you are. i tend to forget the whole thing once it's over. sorry for leaving you back there but i felt something was missing.

Hilary: i wish i could turn off. what planet is this?

Madchen: that's my line. you're alright, lady, you're first in my book. i can already see you've changed. you've swapped that hideous pantsuit for a proper uniform. you're one of us.

Hilary: i see women helping other women and i well up. i don't wall up. i want to learn your ways. i want to help out. i want to see where i went wrong. i'm not bitter. i was cheated. and like any woman who was cheated on, i plan my revenge in a cold, calculating manner.

Madchen: well how do you like that? see? we're really not in control. the fates are. i thought you were a goner. i felt guilty about that. i thought i was gonna need therapy for life. despite all my efforts you managed to survive and find your way here to thrive. right where you belong. i feel better about myself. our paths are set in the stars.

Herlina: insert "fate" with "black hole" and i agree.

Hilary: thank you, ma'am. i feel more accepted than i ever have. but i do miss my the Pope. i hope she's alright without me.

Madchen: nah, she's a bad bitch like us. we are made in the image of our Creator after all. i needed someone over there to lord over Atlantis. she'll whip 'em into shape. with her whip. the Earth survivors aren't survivors until they survive her. i'm sure she misses you. she's a hop, skip, and a black-hole jump if you ever want to visit her. but for now let her do her important work.

_________________

Atlantis inside the bubble:

the Pope marches back and forth with a sign that reads DEAR IVANKA: YOUR DAD'S A CREEP in front of the last remaining brick of Bump Tower. she follows the brick up a red high-heel shoe with a red bottom. and up a nice-looking leg with a red bottom, Ivanka.

Ivanka: *holding a red-cup cappuccino* yeah, i'm here, what.

the Pope: oh hello dear. it's just you seem the most reasonable of the kids. like you don't want the life, you just want to sell your junk on QVC like the rest of us. honey, you must join the Resistance. put on this safety pin. your father must be stopped! how did your meeting go?

Ivanka: the QVC one? cancelled when the Earth blew up. my dad's dead.

the Pope: only in this timeline. ideas spread like comets. speaking of galactic fire, you're fucking hot. my white sheets are getting colder. bedsheets, talking about bedsheets. what say you warm up my lonely nights and become my Christmas fireplace? i can excommunicate you if you refuse...

_______________

Hilary: on the black-hole ride here i viewed a trailer on my watch. the wifi was astronomically spotty but i managed to enjoy the rich textures of the Wonder Woman trailer. i may be old, but this romance is older. i haven't been this excited just from a trailer in never. this is the first time i've ever been excited from a Hollywood trailer.

Madchen: i feel ya...

Carmen: i feel ya...sorry, mama, but we know her longer. i feel ya, girlfriend, that Gal is a gal!

Harfi: where's Herlina's girllove retort? where is Herlina?

Madchen: she seems to want to disappear herself.

Harfi: i feel ya. i like the action sequences on scooters. there's something about scooters. you see the dressing-room fitting scene? that amazon is a princess!

Madchen: but is she prettier than me?

Hilary: i'm glad i missed Thanksgiving this year. i actually had an excuse this year. all my relatives got sacked this year and were looking for handouts. what am i, made of gold?

Madchen: only your hair. did you say Sachs?

Hilary: you do pay attention!

Madchen: okay i confess. i was feigning disinterest cos frankly i didn't want you joining our group. change is hard. it's pretty boring being in a gemstone. nothing to do but read the paper.

Carmen: i love Thanksgiving. i do it for my family. the cats love that unusual dark meat. i slave over a hot stove for 13 hours getting the turkey brined just right. i put the brine bag over my head and sniff the fumes, that's how i get through it. i pluck all the herbs from my countertop aero garden to taste. i can't taste seasoning anymore, my tongue has no more tastebuds from aborted parseltongue spells.

Harfi: when i was in the army we just went to Denny's. you can't tell the difference. turkey's turkey. we didn't talk about our life goals, we talked turkey. we laid out our next military operation, spreading the folding plan over our lit table over a pot. the only spice was in the Wild Turkey bourbon. the bourbon in the coffee.

Madchen: yeah i would have liked to have gone to Denny's but i always assumed Hartwin preferred his mother's home cooking. don't lift one finger and you got good food. and you don't have to clean up! don't forget about the horrendous cleanup! five bottles of disinfectant, five ruined brushes, and five dishwater loads later...

Harfi: a Denny's booth was Hartwin's favorite place in the whole world. even more than his room. i learned that on our first date.

------------------

Herlina has wandered off. in the driving snow. to a cave where a wampa used to dwell. she lies down on a blanket of blizzard for her daily emo evocation.

Herlina: i'm not losing weight as fast as i'd thought. i've seen the future and i'm not going.

Cumberbitch: oh don't talk like that.

Herlina: it's you. i'm calling you Cum out of respect. or maybe Mr. C. like Happy Days. i thought the drug cartels got you.

Cumberbitch: if it's not one death squad it's the next. let me tell you, they are telling the truth when they tell you that marijuana kills.

Herlina: i've heard Carmen's stories. all i hear is your voice.

Cumberbitch: come closer to Cum. i'm in hiding. see me yet? it's classic camouflage.

Herlina looks down the down shaft of the cave and notices the entire left facing side is one big wampa popsicle. the hairy beast is frozen in solid ice! but he can still smile that goofy toothy grin.

Herlina: you okay like that? you comfortable? how are you surviving?

Cumberbitch: inside here i drink my own juices. it's like prison.

Herlina: fitting. or, well, ironic. i'm too nice. i can't stay mad at anybody. i was thinking of going on a water fast.

Cumberbitch: that sounds healthy and not dangerous at all. that doesn't include ice, right? please lick me out of this mess.

Herlina: i've waited forever for someone to ask me that.

Herlina begins licking the gigantic popsicle with Cumberbitch inside.

Herlina: what do i use for the popsicle stick?

Cumberbitch: just stick a stick in me. i'm done. use a stick that always seems to be lying around at any given time.

with each successive lick Herlina's tongue turns ever bluer. but not her spirit. she is losing her tastebuds for a good cause.

________________

Madchen: ladies...and Madam President.

Hilary: aw, shucks. hey!

Madchen: we need to hunt for food. remember what i taught you. sense it. sense it communally, then draw strength from the group and steal it to steel you. be the straw. straw strength. recognize the energy of the universe. it's blue cos it's yellow. it's not male or female but it's playful like a witch's fox familiar. use that energy to pinpoint your specific place in it. that's how you sense others not like you. only you can see food for what it really is. this way. follow me.

Hilary: *taking notes in her green notebook* follow me she says...

Madchen opens her hand and a yellow spark which emerges blue forms a spear from her arm. the impromptu group path for awhile through a couple dry straw mazes until they bump into a rather strange-looking alien with gray skin. it's not that he's strange from a human point of view, he looks very similar to a human, but he's strange by his own species. like he doesn't seem to fit the standard size. his legs move so quickly under him that his feet are lost in a constant cloud, he glides to move, he doesn't walk, it's like he's being dragged. he has breasts exactly like a woman's on his chest.

Hilary leaps toward the alien and slashes him with a knife.

Hilary: *tribal chant using her tongue rolled up like a taco* lululululululululululululemon

Musculo: what the fuck, man!!!?

Hilary: sorry.........sorry..........sorry about that........working my way through some stuff.......out of some stuff.....out of it..........sorry............i'm noticing you aren't bleeding.....

Musculo: ay ay ay! dona guapa! reina regalia! como estas ustedes? es? eu? is that correct? do i bow now?

Madchen: my my my you're big! like i mean tall, not your penis, i wasn't staring at your large penis. you have muscles everywhere!

Musculo: that is my name, don't wear it out on money. i am a strong man. stop staring at my tits! well okay stare at my breasts, not my fat. i've read about your kind. the teacher-expert elite at my school tried to ban the forbidden text but i hacked it. i was in detention all throughout high school but who needs prom? Earthlings, right?

Madchen: that sounds weird.

Musculo: okay don't call us Keplerings, that sounds weird. we're just people. people are people. Lutum, human, Transformer, all fascinating and fucked up. i sensed you were searching for food. hungry?

Madchen: you have good sense.

Musculo snaps his finger and the storm ends.

Musculo: there's a pizza farm just down the road, past the weird barn behind the drive-in screen. let it thaw out first.

Herlina: i love cold pizza. i like your big tits.

Harfi: there you are.

Musculo: tits is such a filthy word. at least call them boobs. we feel things intensely. we are governed by how others feel things. that's why are hearts are two sizes too big. our hearts literally protrude from our chests and thus need funbags to encase them. we feel past facts. our special ability is the ability to sense sensers. we are drawn to strong cultish personalities.

Madchen: cool cool. so either show us to the nearest Denny's or the nearest cow or get the hell outta our way.

Musculo: but you're so close. this is your path. your path alone. i can't help, only annoy. repeating myself, once again, as i said before, as i was saying, hungry? what's your game?

Harfi: too tired to bullshit anymore.

Musculo: hungry in my country means you are hungry to play a board game. chess? checkers? three-dimensional chess? sorry, the hologram broke down in the storm. no more wires.

BINGO? WE USE COW KIDNEYS AS OUR MARKER DOTS, CLICK HERE, RIGHT HERE AT THIS LINK

Carmen: wait, before we play, let me check our luck and crack open an egg to explore its entrails.

Madchen: oh jesus you aren't still reviving that regressive ridiculousness, right?

Carmen: right?

Musculo: there's a century egg back at the castle i'm sure you'd be interested in. to eat or to play. this way. follow me.










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