Kenyatta: you okay, buddy? you don't look so good.
Atalan: i feel calmer after that, my nose and i are breathing more easily.
Cotard: i have never been more proud of a song. shall we away to the tavern?
Kenyatta: it's more of a gathering place where unnecessarily-large muffins are served. those things fill me up right.
Atalan: it's cos they're unnecessarily large and just-right expensive for how large they are.
Cotard: i wouldn't know about such fancy foods. i took an oath of poverty. i never have any money. i've been using these calloused feet for shoes since i can rememeber.
Atalan: which isn't long. how much longer? i'm feeling lightheaded. we can rib each other cos we're friends, right bro?
Cotard: ribs, now that's monastery food. i'd give you the brofist but i fear that'd topple you over like a feather. is there something you're not telling us? you can tell us two, bro and bra, anything, there are no limits here except for the city limits.
Kenyatta: i have no idea what you're talking about. all my shit's tight.
Cotard: no, the man with the bleeding skullhead.
Atalan: those skinheads make me sick but i'm too afraid to tell them to their furry faces.
Kenyatta: don't be so quick to judge people based on how they look. leather and spike necklaces can mean three things. tho those furries make me sick.
Atalan touches the nape of his neck to discover blood.
Atalan: how did that get there? i suddenly feel i have to lie down. i wouldn't have felt that way without first seeing the blood.
Cotard: the mind plays tricks. why is that? i wonder. anyway, sit down on the filthy ground, that'll make you feel better. there, just rub some dirt on it, you'll be fine once you imbibe a Gentle City Ginger. it happens. it's a mystery. mystery is overrated. i mean just last week i found my ponytail caught in the rows of teeth of a monastery gator. i took it as a sign, maybe i should take a break from that place. and maybe my monastery shouldn't have so many swamps. some, y'know, but not that many. also, when you start to get grey hair like i have, it's time to stop with the ponytails or you get confused for a dirty hippie. that's why my head presently is shaved nice and clean.
Kenyatta: you're bald, dear, but not bald of spirit.
the tavern was built around the huge flatscreen tv in the middle. the tv was placed first, then the first planks of wood and the roof were added later. they were in such a hurry to land the tv they crushed the ancient fountain that was there with the tv. the fountain stood as the only piece of the city from antiquity.
Atalan: talk about symbolic.
Kenyatta: i know, someone's gonna get electrocuted someday. they crushed the fountain into rubble but forgot to turn the fountain off.
Cotard slips Atalan some white pills dealer-style.
Cotard: take these, potent potent magic.
Atalan: Vanquish?
Cotard: the caffeine in them makes any pain go away.
Atalan: the last time my head bled like this, i took a Vanquish. the Vanquish immediately makes the area of pain throb. it hurt for hours. when i didn't take the pill, it healed without the throb. i smell something.
Cotard: i'll waft what she's wafting.
Lacey decides to turn up his nose and play along to the town jewel.
Lacey: yes, sir, that's our special, tacos al pastor.
Cotard: i see what you did there, thank you. i wouldn't mind porking your taco. three on the house.
Lacey: um...
Cotard: the church will pay it somehow, the Vatican pays for all my meals i think, i just have to remain quiet on a few things. in fact, son, you'll end up paying for this when you put your fin in the cute vanilla offering envelope at church on Sunday.
Lacey: i don't believe in anything but my beloved Chicago Cubs.
Cotard: cute, huh?
Atalan: yes he is. i can say that confidently as a straight man. why do they call you Lacey?
Lacey: i call myself Lacey. it's a strong male name.
Kenyatta: last name?
Lacey: first. they were gonna call me Laces for my agility on the sports field and my interest in lacin' em up to conquer any situation.
Cotard: then why do you wear velcro shoes?
Lacey looks down at his feet and trips and falls and spills his tray all over the tv screen, knocking the back of his head on the tv. the President is making his address and looking quite confident and exasperated.
the President: goddamn it, people in this chamber who serve the people, it's not about party, it's about being the best goddamn American you can be!
Atalan: i hate politics, it's all pageantry and pomp and no punch.
Kenyatta: we need pageantry in life or we'd be too bored. love that you're bored, it's better than dying on the battlefield.
Lacey pops out from the floor to sing: "where everybody knows your first name..."
Kenyatta: this place smells of sex.
Cotard points to a redhead with big breaststststststststs.
Cotard: smells of one gender in particular. cute, huh?
Kenyatta: yes she is. i can say that confidently as someone keeping her private life private.
Cotard: i was thinking her more for Ata, but now that i think about it, i like this better. look at the size of those things! look at her, she's a beautiful soul. she's so big, such big shapes and magnanimity of spirit. i'd like to stick my staff in the middle of em and wave my staff around and bless her with piety. i am her shepherd and she is my sheep. all of you are. hey, everyone in here goes to (my) church, right?
not a sound.
Cotard: either this place's too loud or i wasn't being obnoxious enough. life (here) is too busy.
Atalan: all this talk is making me corny.
Lacey: fresh out. sex is good, but not as good as fresh sweet corn.
Cotard: got any sweet corn?
Lacey: no.
Cotard: then why'd you say that famous quote?
Lacey: cos it's a famous quote.
Cotard: i like you. would you like to join our merry band of brothers?
Lacey: i don't go to church, remember? the baseball field is my cathedral.
Cotard: fine, more fine altar wine for me. sorry about being an asshole earlier, i've been drunk this whole time.
Atalan drifts off to the one glassless tavern window and sticks his hand outside to make sure, he drifts past the smell of tacos and tacos, expensive muffins and expensive muffin. he smelled a lot of smells today, but he harkens back to the heartened passion of Brother Cotard when Cotard was sober, which is when Cotard is at his best, to the lesson of music Cotard taught, and as Ata spies a black innertube barely holding on from a frayed rope tied to a low-hanging tree branch, Ata counts his blessings and praises low-hanging fruit, the simple boyhood pleasures of playing hooky and using all that daylight to play in the bog the month finals were to start. Ata sniffs and remembers
THIS DITTY AND SINGS IT IN HIS HEAD, CLICK HERE, RIGHT HERE AT THIS LINK.
Yayray enters the dining place and immediately knocks the tv back right from being slightly askew at the corners. he counts the three menus in the front holder of the front desk three times before sitting down and asking for a ginger ale three times.
Codrus looks out his window to see nothing but flying dust. he receives a phone call. he hangs on the line longer than he needs to for he knows what this is about. he needs time to think, he's a thinker. he knows it's time to flee his office. he has no time to think, he has to get moving now. Codrus circles the receiver of the phone with his finger before pushing his finger through the circle like in that Tool video.
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2 comments:
A Gentle City Ginger: a GCG. Sounds like something Crabbies would make! I think that in Gentle City, there should be a mellon Collie drink too.
Ah…mystery is overrated! That old chestnut again ;)
Breaastststststststststs! Sorry…couldn’t help myself…
It’s always three times.
I’m in the windmills of your mind after this reading, my sweet Phoenix. *)
thank you so much, my sweet juli, this was a tough one. that's perfect for this story, mah dahling! GCG=Go Cubs Go! *)
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