thing!”
Benice fanned at her flushed face, “I think I’m getting the vapours.”
“Tell me about it! How could anyone, let alone my own wife, like those things? It just isn’t natural. And how am I supposed to reconcile this?” He threw up his arms dramatically, “I kicked her out!”
The chair Bernice was on buckled and she fell flat on her back. When Mr Wilkens rushed to her aid he was greeted with a hefty slap across the face. Mr Wilkens walked away from Bernice and in a whining voice asked, “Why on earth did you do that?”
Bernice eased herself up and strode over toward the pathetically writhing Mr Wilkens and gave him a firm kick in the anti-nuts.
“What was that for?” he screamed desperately.
“You silly old fool, you go get your damn balls back and beg Tina for forgiveness!”
Her words stung Mr Wilkens as they coiled through his eardrums like an emptying drain. No, not you too, Bernice; has the whole world gone insane? To Mr Wilkens, the world suddenly appeared awash in anti-idealistic anathema. He watched Bernice’s mouth flapping wildly but his ears had already waxed over in self defence. It was as if he was caught behind a pane of glass and drowning. He felt like he was being attacked by spears of unreason. He thought of Tina and felt a surge of love so strong that his heart tore like trouser seams. He could feel fragments of heart floating inside his body like dead fish and wept.
Bernice was still screaming soundlessly when Mr Wilkens left to get his wife back.
* * * * *
The Scroats sat proudly in their matching protest suits watching Hedging stand before them. He projected a blueprint of Yandish Muff and its immediate surrounds onto the wall behind. The logistical phase was reaching full swing and final arrangements were being made for the protest. Hedging stood before his men to reiterate the plan they had so carefully concocted.
“The plan will be thus: five of you are to enter from the back of the auditorium as the demonstration begins. All lights in the building will be shot out and spotlights wheeled in by five more of you, who will approach from the front. With the spotlights in place, two more will enter from the roof and drop a large, white sheet across the back of the stage, while two more must set up a data projector in the designated area. A pre-prepared presentation of unsullied scrotums will be projected upon the sheet as I enter from stage left. As I begin unloading my pro-scrotum rhetoric throughout the auditorium, the rest of you are to run about the aisles in a frenzy, all the while, extolling god’s passion for balls. Any children rejecting the pro-scrotum message will be given a carefully practiced slap that is designed to alter ingrained synapse patterns without causing injury. Spencer Wilkens is to be killed, along with anyone else aiding in the demonstration. Any resultant corpses are to be displayed in a victory march down Main Street, where spectators will be encouraged to reveal their scrotums or embrace someone else’s. In the long term it is hoped that any momentum gained via this protest can be built upon in a global anti-discrimination effort.”
The plan flew by like verbal bullets, striking each Scroat, inflicting wounds of passion. They stood, they cheered and they embraced, strengthening their bond, furthering their cause, forming a unity and feeling deep togetherness.
“Men, you make me proud,” exclaimed Hedging as he clutched himself with conviction. “To anyone cowardly enough to proclaim this battle unworthy, I introduce you to the cold back of my hand.”
Hedging raising his hand toward the ceiling acted as a cue for Tina, who had spent the meeting crouched in the corner. She flicked a switch, triggering a dramatic laser show which Hedging, in partnership with his family, had spent some time developing. The Scroats sat transfixed, chewing on unpeeled carrots, watching the multi-coloured lasers dance above their heads. This is going
Benice fanned at her flushed face, “I think I’m getting the vapours.”
“Tell me about it! How could anyone, let alone my own wife, like those things? It just isn’t natural. And how am I supposed to reconcile this?” He threw up his arms dramatically, “I kicked her out!”
The chair Bernice was on buckled and she fell flat on her back. When Mr Wilkens rushed to her aid he was greeted with a hefty slap across the face. Mr Wilkens walked away from Bernice and in a whining voice asked, “Why on earth did you do that?”
Bernice eased herself up and strode over toward the pathetically writhing Mr Wilkens and gave him a firm kick in the anti-nuts.
“What was that for?” he screamed desperately.
“You silly old fool, you go get your damn balls back and beg Tina for forgiveness!”
Her words stung Mr Wilkens as they coiled through his eardrums like an emptying drain. No, not you too, Bernice; has the whole world gone insane? To Mr Wilkens, the world suddenly appeared awash in anti-idealistic anathema. He watched Bernice’s mouth flapping wildly but his ears had already waxed over in self defence. It was as if he was caught behind a pane of glass and drowning. He felt like he was being attacked by spears of unreason. He thought of Tina and felt a surge of love so strong that his heart tore like trouser seams. He could feel fragments of heart floating inside his body like dead fish and wept.
Bernice was still screaming soundlessly when Mr Wilkens left to get his wife back.
* * * * *
The Scroats sat proudly in their matching protest suits watching Hedging stand before them. He projected a blueprint of Yandish Muff and its immediate surrounds onto the wall behind. The logistical phase was reaching full swing and final arrangements were being made for the protest. Hedging stood before his men to reiterate the plan they had so carefully concocted.
“The plan will be thus: five of you are to enter from the back of the auditorium as the demonstration begins. All lights in the building will be shot out and spotlights wheeled in by five more of you, who will approach from the front. With the spotlights in place, two more will enter from the roof and drop a large, white sheet across the back of the stage, while two more must set up a data projector in the designated area. A pre-prepared presentation of unsullied scrotums will be projected upon the sheet as I enter from stage left. As I begin unloading my pro-scrotum rhetoric throughout the auditorium, the rest of you are to run about the aisles in a frenzy, all the while, extolling god’s passion for balls. Any children rejecting the pro-scrotum message will be given a carefully practiced slap that is designed to alter ingrained synapse patterns without causing injury. Spencer Wilkens is to be killed, along with anyone else aiding in the demonstration. Any resultant corpses are to be displayed in a victory march down Main Street, where spectators will be encouraged to reveal their scrotums or embrace someone else’s. In the long term it is hoped that any momentum gained via this protest can be built upon in a global anti-discrimination effort.”
The plan flew by like verbal bullets, striking each Scroat, inflicting wounds of passion. They stood, they cheered and they embraced, strengthening their bond, furthering their cause, forming a unity and feeling deep togetherness.
“Men, you make me proud,” exclaimed Hedging as he clutched himself with conviction. “To anyone cowardly enough to proclaim this battle unworthy, I introduce you to the cold back of my hand.”
Hedging raising his hand toward the ceiling acted as a cue for Tina, who had spent the meeting crouched in the corner. She flicked a switch, triggering a dramatic laser show which Hedging, in partnership with his family, had spent some time developing. The Scroats sat transfixed, chewing on unpeeled carrots, watching the multi-coloured lasers dance above their heads. This is going
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