A great and noble quest

So anyway, there was once this kingdom of long ago, more of a village with pomp really. It was made up of all green valleys and fertile fields, fat cows and plump sheep. The crops, animals and people thrived and everyone got on with everyone else.

Which of course meant it was a disaster waiting to happen.

And happen it did.

One morning the good folk woke to see a terrible site! (Or rather another terrible sight after the familiar fright they get on seeing their wives without make up on and curlers in).

All the land had gone all swampy and foul! The fields where wet and soggy and full of sludge, the animals got caught in sinking sand and sank with hardly a moo of protest. (Especially from the animals that weren’t cows), and all the land was shrouded in a dank, funky smelling mists reminiscent of rotten eggs and old man.

The people were alarmed. This was not on! They’d just printed the brochures to the area and everything! This was a PR and networking disaster! Oh and all their families would starve to death and such etc etc.

They cried out for a hero!

Or at least someone who’d do something about all this that wasn’t they themselves!

And a hero stepped up to the plate!

His name was Sir Percy and he was a knight of the 9^th order. (The orders 1 – 12 having each a different duties from guarding the king to helping lemmings cross the street. The 9^th mostly guarded shipments of cheese).

Sir Percy was handsome and noble and built like a dream.

Which mean that, like most gorgeous people, he’d never developed much of either a personality or a brain. This was considered a plus for someone often in the public eye, as cheese guards always do seem to end up as.

Sir Percy, being brave and full of honour and rather in debt, was only too glad to go on a quest to get out of town for a while. Besides, even the life of a cheese guard loses it’s glamour after a while and you start getting the urge to go slay a dragon or rescuing princess (or the occasional prince, if you were that way inclined).

Sir Percy knew that now was the time for him to shine!

The king called him forth to his chamber, where he talked to the earnest knight with but one faithful advisor present, who was mostly deaf and really just there for show and tradition. (A bit like the king himself).

“Good Sir Percy, I fear this hath been the work of yon accursed Serpent woman who doth live in the Bog down by yonder woods”

“um, why are you talking like that Sire?”

“Oh sorry mate” said the king, coughing, “You get used to it, you know, for all the ceremonies, commoners and press and such. Anyhoo I was saying, we believe it’s the Serpent woman who has cursed our lands and caused our cows udders and nubile young teens to dry up and become barren!”

“Sire, how do you know this?” asked Sir Percy

“She left a note” said the king, holding up a rather moist piece of paper that looked suspiciously like toilet paper, which read, “Do you like what I have done to your lands? Lol. The serpent woman”, with her address, fax and phone number below it.

“Very well” bellowed Sir Percy, to the annoyance of the king and adviser who were STANDING RIGHT THERE! “I will go forth and confront this most evil creature and restore our village’s former glory!!”

The crowd cheered!

Or would have if there’d been anyone else in the room with them.

“Go forth good Knight and come back covered in glory!!!” bellowed the king, giving Sir Percy a taste of his own medicine.

The king waited a bit.

“Um, you can go now good knight”

“Well see” began Percy, “My horse lost a shoe and so she’s in the shop and I was wondering if I could borrow your stallion? You know, the black one with silver trimmings?”

“Now son… er Sir Percy, is that really necessary? Your horse is a fine one indeed!”

“Aw, but Daaaaaad! It’s a girl horse and I want a boy horse so that I look really tough and cool on him!”

“Sire if I may” began the king’s aid, who’d been standing off to the side, wondering if he could pick his nose without anyone seeing, “After that PR disaster with you and the young stablehand, er, perhaps it would be better to give the people something new to pay attention to?”

So that very next morning, the handsome Sir Percy rode out on the beautiful black stallion, Blackheart (Blackie to his friends), all decked out in silver trimmings and shining armour that was only just a tad bit too tight but showed off his chest nicely.

The serpent woman lived on the outskirts of the Beckoning Woods, a full days ride from the kingdom. (This ride was basically through fields and flowers, the beckoning woods sounded impressive but were really more a stand of 30 or so trees with an interesting name they couldn’t live up to).

The ride was long and hard. Or at least so it felt to Sir Percy who’s pampered self was not used to doing such long hard riding. Cheese caravans moved very slowly.

But he was a determined fellow and spent the journey concentrating on the task at hand. (If the task at hand had been finding ways in which he felt people should honor him and deciding that, “Sir Percy with no mercy” should be in at least one of the songs people would write about him).

He got to the edge of the Beckoning woods and decided to set up camp. Put up the tent, chop firewood, cook a meal… Sir Percy was glad that he’d come with his 20 odd staff members to see to all this.

As night fell on the knight, he retired to his luxurious 10 man tent, that only he slept in, crawled into his silken sleeping bag and, as he put his sleeping mask on, smirked to himself. This questing stuff was easy! And so he drifted off, his pricy bee’s wax ear plugs allowing him to sleep throughout the night and not be awakened by the blood curdling screams that came from his entourage.

Early the next morning, around 11am which was pretty, early for Sir Percy, the brave knight emerged from his tent, feeling a bit stiff and wondering why no one had woken him for brunch, only to find the camping ground completely empty!

Now this was quiet shocking to the knight who had problems putting on a smile without a back up team at the ready! Where had they all gone?!

But gone they had! His chef; his bard; his slaves; masseuse and personal clown. Gone like they were never there!

Sir Percy was confused.

Which alright was his natural inclination, thinking not being his strong suit, but this time he was aware of it and it was not a comfortable feeling!

After calling out for his people, looking under rocks and throwing a massive temper tantrum (that mussed his golden locks terribly, oh if only someone would come brush his hair!), he finally decided that he might as well go on with the quest because that was he had been doing and no one had told him not to. Sir Percy was the sort of man that a General would kill for. Or would kill for his General…

Luckily, while Blackheart was missing, he was able to find one of the serving boy’s donkeys that had wondered off in the night and so missed all the excitement. After a few hours coaxing the beast, a few nasty bites that made him glad he was only wearing his second best tunic, and a lot of balancing and string, Sir Percy had the beast saddled up and ready to ride.

Leaving the camping ground (and all the armour he found too hard to put on, it seemed so easy when other people did it), he went off in the direction of the Serpent woman’s home.

After a blistering ride (at least on Sir Percy’s delicate hands, his riding gloves having gotten the better of him), our hero eventually came across the edge of the bog wherein the Serpent woman lived. He was glad to see that her Serpent hole was right on the edge of the bog, which meant his kidskin boots wouldn’t get wet. Wet feet are just icky.

He lept off the donkey (fell off face first actually but that doesn’t sound so good), and marched up to the Serpent woman’s serpent hole. He rang the doorbell and amused himself with looking at the ornaments she had strewn about her lawn. Bones of all kinds and the skulls of hapless men who had met their fate here… how utterly emo and tacky, he thought.

The thick door of the snake hole slowly opened, the sign on it, ‘If you lived here you’d be home by now!’, clattered noisily and then there before him stood the serpent woman!

A naga woman, she had the top half of a woman and the bottom half of a huge, silvery serpent. She was at least 4 times the length of Sir Percy, her scales shone in the sunlight and her muscles flexed rhythmically. She would have been a magnificent sight if her human half didn’t have its hair in curlers and an old fluffy pink bathrobe on. Sir Percy’s smirk popped out before his brain cell told him that, that wasn’t a good idea.

Seeing the smirk the Serpent woman drew herself up and hissed angrily, “Hey I wasn’t expecting visitors and it’s hard to control all this mammal hair!”

“I’m sure you can’t help it, you know, being the creature you are” Sir Percy said in a voice he thought was reassuring but was more ‘hammer-the-nails-in-your-coffin-ish’.

The serpent woman glared at him, the rattle at the end of her tail shaking in an alarming manner.

“Um” said Percy brilliantly. “any way, I was… I was.. I say, could you stop with the rattle it does make me forget what I was saying!”

The rattling stopped.

“Yes thank you so anyway, I was wondering if it was you who cursed our village and if you could undo your curse post haste” said Percy, trying not to look proud at having used a big phrase.

“And which village is that?” asked the giant serpentine creature, pulling out her day book diary.

“We’re.. ah yes, that’s us, that one over there” said Sir Percy, helpfully pointing it out in her book, “The one between the ‘blighted beyond repair’ and ‘boils and embarrassing pustules’ one – see?”

The serpent woman slammed her book and now wore a smirk of her own as she hissed, “Yes I remember that one. You drove me out of town when your king outlawed sock puppeteers! That was my lively hood! Now all I can do is summon powerful mystic forces and sell beanies online!”

“Well I’m sure that’s bad and all but does the whole town have to suffer for it?” asked Sir Percy.

“Yes” said the Serpent woman.

“Oh. ok” said Sir Percy cleverly, “Well then I’m afraid I will have to kill you. No hard feelings, it’s a job”

With that Sir Percy withdrew his shining sword and flashed it at the serpent creature’s throat.

Now Sir Percy was not one of nature’s mental wonders, but he was adept with his sword, almost a genius in fact. He could wield anything as a deadly weapon as many a high-way man, stabbed to death with a dull branch, teaspoon or over cooked sausage, could attest to.

(Or could if, you know, they weren’t dead…)

Now the serpent woman was nothing if not sharp. You don’t make a lively hood with puppets without learning a bit about humanity.

“Now now Sir knight” she said in her most charming voice, sounding like a scratched record, “Where would the fun be in that endeavor?”

Sir Percy hesitated. Big words made him nervous.

“What do you mean?”

“Well a knight can slay all sorts of beasts and who remembers it? Sure there are stories but there can only be stories if something interesting happens to write a story about! Or a catchy song! Slaying a serpent woman is hardly worth even a witty ditty!”

“Hmmn”, hmmned Sir Percy, “You have a point there.”

“And you have a point there” Said the Serpent woman, looking pointedly at the pointy sword.

”What do you suggest then?” asked Sir Percy, lowering the sword slightly.

“Well” said the serpent woman, trying to play with a curl of hair and instead poking a curler painfully into her eye. “I know that cursing your village was a tad bit of overkill, but losing my job wasn’t nice either, so I propose you go on a quest for me. Should you complete it, I will remove the curse and come back with you to the village in shame and humility and go a few rounds with your enthusiastic royal dungeon keeper.”

Sir Percy looked interested, but suddenly saw her trap!

“Wait!! What about publishing rights to the story?!” he demanded!

“All yours if you complete the quest perfectly!” purred the serpent woman.

Well that settled that! The sword was sheathed and the knight’s attention captured.

“What will you have me do witch?” demanded Sir Percy, standing up straight, flicking his golden lock back and defiantly removing a bug from between his teeth.

“You see that island out there in the middle of the Giant Lake Fetid?” asked the Serpent woman, pointing one slender, surprisingly well manicured finger in a northerly direction.

“yeeeeeeeeeeeees…” mumbled Sir Percy, who couldn’t really see it due to his being near sighted but refusing to wear glasses to ruin his image.

“On that island, right at the centre, is an apple tree that has the sweetest apple known to man or serpent. Your quest is to swim out there and get me a whole bushel of those lovely toothsome apples”.

“Why don’t you just swim out and get some?” asked Percy suspiciously.

“I’m a half snake, half woman creature you moron! Swimming is not an option! Even my existing is a dodgy deal better not thought about too hard!” hissed the serpent woman with an annoyed, ‘you-had-to-remind-me-of-that’ look on her face.

“Seems simple enough” said the knight.

Then, suddenly swirling around and placing his sword by the creatures suddenly rapidly beating throat pulse point, Sir Percy asked, “So what’s the catch creature? For that is no worthy tale for a bard to tell!”

“You are clever Sir Knight”, said the Serpent woman, sending a silent apology to the powers that be for that immensely blatant lie.

“I am!” said Sir Percy, feeling chuffed at having tricked her so easily. “So tell me woman…like creature, what shall try kill me on this quest?”

“Heehee, well Sir knight, first you have to get to the island, and the lake is populated by man eating fish and fish eating monsters who don’t mind a change in diet! Then, once you are past those, the island is guarded by a giant boar called Hog Wartz who will attempt to disembowel you with his giant mighty tusks!”

“Eeeek!” squealed Sir Percy, his heart all a flutter, “THE Hog Wartz?! It’s THAT guarded island and THAT apple tree! Oooh, I’m so excited!” The serpent woman waited while Sir Percy did a small jig of delight.

“Yes it’s that island and it’s one that no one comes back from” she intoned ominously.

“Well if no one comes back from it, how do we know about Hog Wartz and the apples” asked Sir Percy, a brain cell igniting accidentally.

“um… well I’m sure I don’t know!” said the Serpent woman briskly, “But will you accept this quest or is it too much for a pitiful human such as yourself?”

“Oh I accept! And I accept gladly! I am the best swordsman in all the land! That pig is as good as pork!” this was followed by a bit of swishing about of the sword to prove the point he’d already made ages ago.

“Then go forth brave Knight! Bring me my apples and I will lift the spell upon your town! Go! Go swiftly and live on eternally as a legend amongst men!” cried the serpent woman, getting caught in the excitement in spite of herself!

Sir Percy leapt at his donkey.

Missed and leaped again.

And missed again, but third time lucky, and he dug his heels in and speed off at the slow walk that was the only speed the donkey went at.

The serpent woman watched him leave with a satisfied smile, then, chuckling softly, she went back into her hole, to finish off the last remains of Sir Percy’s once faithful clow. (Though she always found they tasted a bit funny…)

Sir Percy rode to the edge of the Lake. Taking off all excess armour (not a lot as he never got half of it on in the first place), he strapped the sword more securely about his rippling waist and dove into the rippling water, swimming with strong even strokes!

First came the piranha, eager for a taste of his manly flesh! But Sir Percy, athlete extraordinaire was having none of it! With mighty, watery punches and kicks he soon had the whole school knocked unconscious and being snacked on by half the creatures that might have wanted to snack on him!

Then came the horrible hydra with 10 heads and 100 000 tentacles (or at least ten but they waved around a lot so close enough!) Sir Percy wrestled it down to the murky depths below, hardly breaking a sweat. (The water was also very cold so that helped).

Lastly a giant barracuda came at him!

But with a mighty punch, Sir Percy made sure the only thing it got to eat was its own face! Sir Percy was in his element! (He was born a Pisces so technically that was pretty accurate.)

Finally he pulled his weary, fish and monster nibbled carcass from the water and lay upon a beach of the most beautiful smooth pebbles he’d ever seen, in colours he’d never dreamed existed! How lovely was this island! With tall palm trees, soft sand and an abandoned fast food joint rotting away sweetly in the distance. Nature at it’s finest!

But where was Hog Wartz? He could be anywh…

Percy didn’t finish that thought when the sound of hooves churning up pebbles greeted his eager, ear-ringed ears.

The sound grew louder and louder and then suddenly, appearing around the curve of the island, the most massive, gigantic, enormous and not to mention really really big, Black boar was suddenly bearing down on him!

Sir Percy dodged hard left as the beast shot past him, narrowly missing being gored open like a ripe fruit by the most massive ivory tusks he’d ever seen!

The boar swung around, fast and furious and utterly graceful for a creature so large.

It charged him again!

Sir Percy dodged again but knew he couldn’t keep that up forever!

Again the enraged creature came for him.

But this time it’s little piggy brain had done the math and it shouldered him violently as it went past!

Sir Percy went flying, but managed to tuck and roll, which is very impressive when you are wearing a long sword strapped perilously close to your privates.

Sir Percy leapt to his feet, his sword in his hand through some sort of acrobatics we suspect couldn’t happen in the real world. Bring on the boar!!

Now the boar knew swords, he’d bitten through enough of them in his time, but the confidence that Sir Percy had put him on guard. This one knew how to use that sharp toothpick.

No matter, he would die, just like all the rest.

The boar charged him again, feigning left but at the last moment darting right and slamming into Sir Percy. Or he would have if Sir Percy had been there!

“Oh you are good my friend” laughed Percy, “But I am better!”

“sqweeak weeak chitter chitter” was all the pig heard. Why do people always assume animals understand English?

“I will best you beast!!” yelled Sir Percy, unaware of the lingual differences!

Gasping and panting, Sir Percy ran at the boar.

Surprised, as most prey tended to move in the opposite direction, the boar was momentarily thrown off guard. Just enough for Sir Percy to inflict a wicked flesh wound to its shoulder!!

The beast roared in fury! This one was not playing fair!

With a furious grunt, Hog Wartz charged once more, swerving at the last moment to slam into Percy and get him off balance. Then with a swing of his mighty head he thundered his tusks home, right into Percy’s left side! Score one for Team Oink!

The Knight fell, stunned, to his knees. The left side of his tunic covered in rich, berry-coloured blood that gushed out like a merry little fountain. He bend forward clutching his side in agony.

The boar squealed triumph, death in its sights and ran at him once more, head down and tusks forward!

Right into Sir Percy’s sword!

For at the last moment Sir Percy had raised his mighty blade in one last ditched effort to slay the beast! The hog never had a chance! With a meaty, cracking sound the blade, pushed by the pig’s own momentum, went smashing through its skull, straight between its eyes!

Hog Wartz gave a mighty bellow then came crashing down, bashing into Sir Percy as he fell! The knight’s head smacked into the ground with a nasty, organic sound similar to the one the pig’s had made! Sand and pebbles flew everywhere!

And then suddenly, everything went quiet.

It was late evening when Sir Percy stirred. Covered in blood, both his own and that of the once-Hog Wartz, he staggered painfully to the nearest tree and used it to support himself. His head ached and felt he’d forgotten something important or his name wasn’t…

Oh dear.

What was his name again? And why was he here next to a giant, dead pig? And where is here?

Sir Percy felt a mild panic come over him. He might have panicked more but he’d forgotten whether or not he was a calm person and then decided it seemed better then the panicky option, which seemed an awful waste of energy.

Sir Percy started walking. Maybe there were people nearby, his family or friends or some such? Surely he wasn’t the only person on the island? It was an island right?

Deeper and deeper he went into the island, all the time wondering who he was and what he was doing there and praying he wasn’t an insurance sales man.

Finally he came to a clearing at the center of the island, and there, right in the middle with almost mathematical precision, was a large gnarled apple tree, full of the reddest, sweetest looking apples he had ever seen!

Slowly he edged closer, the pain in his side twanging whenever he touched it, which was often as he was one of those people who always have to touch a sore spot.

If nothing else at least he wouldn’t starve to death!

He stood beneath the fruit breathing in the heavenly scent of deliciously, perfectly ripe fruit.

He reached above his head an picked a ruby fruit the size of his hand.

And as he did he suddenly remembered everything! He was the Great Sir Percy (The ‘Great’ part being a recent addition he expected to catch on fast), here to save his village from the Serpent woman by bringing her a bunch of these sweet apples! And he’d made it! He’d killed the legendary Hog Wartz! If he wasn’t ‘The Man’ then who was?! HAZZAH!!

With great triumph he took an almighty bite of the sweet fruit! His mouth filled with tangy juice.

And his mind went blank.

Again.

For this was what the serpent woman had hoped for all along! That if he survived the trying, tiring swim to the island and lived through the awesome fight with the giant boar, he would thenbite into one of the trees fine crimson apples to replenish himself.

Unaware that these were The Crimson Apples of Forgetfulness – as they were known to a select few. (Sir Percy being one of them but he was always forgetting the minor details.)

Sir Percy’s memories once more bled from his skull and this time there was no chance of them coming back.

The lost knight continued to eat apples for a bit, he was hungry after all. And then walked around a for a short stint.

He smiled a bit.

He was full and the night was warm.

He snuggled into the rootwork of the old apple tree and, closing his eyes, drifted off into a happy dreamless sleep. Life was good.

THE END

WAIT!!!

So does it just end like that? Does the Serpent woman triumph? Does the village stay ruined and have to become a tourist destination for the curious and morbid? What happens to our brave if egotistical knight who is, in his own way, no more? Can you leave a story hanging like that?

Yes you can.

But luckily not this story! In our epilogue we find out that:-

The Village- continued to languor and wither. Even after a ritual killing of the king, (whom everyone decided to blame as getting him was a lot easier then taking on the Serpent woman) and many prayers and guilty feelings afterwards, nothing improved. Many of the inhabitants moved on and scattered to the winds. Those who were left decided to open up a bunch of factories that belched the blackest smoke, figuring that with most everything dead or drowned already, what was a bit of pollution added to the mix? Many swamp gases were harvested to be used as bio fuel and in the making of cheese chips. The town actually prospered and the sickly, air starved inhabitants made quiet a bundle! (Them being the sort that sees having money as a step up to having health, which you couldn’t use to buy nifty stuff.)

The Serpent Woman – continued to eat the odd traveler or errand knight that came her way and who wasn’t as adept with a sword as Sir Percy. She felt very proud of herself for duping him. Considering Sir Percy’s intelligence it really wasnt that much to be proud of. She could have lived her life out in wicked joy there in her snake hole, selling her online headgear, but with the new factories being built and the village always expanding, she was rudely awakened by a bulldozer that not only tore through her home but through her lower intestines as well while digging out a new foundry foundation!

And so the serpent woman became yet another hapless victim of progress. We’ve all lost family and friends that way…

Sir Percy – He continued to wonder about the island in a dazzed and confused state for rather a long time, living off the land and giggling to himself, until a storm washed him off the island and onto the farthest shore of the lake, where he was found by a bunch of native people who were hunting for food but decided he was pretty enough to keep and not eat.

He was taken back to the village where he was seen as a bit of an oddity by the people there. But with his genuineness (mind-wiped he couldn’t much lie about anything) and his willingness to help others (The fear that he could once have been an insurance salesman still lodged deep in the reptile part of his brain, where such things are always found, ensuring that he was willing to do anything physical!), people soon started to like having him around and they eventually took him off the leash and set him free about the village.

He was a friendly sort and quickly fell in love with the village dairy maid. They married and had many plump, healthy kids of varying intelligence and good looks.

In the evenings, Sir Percy, now known as Raving Ned, would regale the village children with wondrous tales of dragons, and damsels and serpent women! What a lively imagination he had! The kids adored him for it!

Ex-Sir-Percy-now-Raving-Ned lived until a ripe old age. He had his ups and downs, as we all do in life, but overall he was a simple man with simple pleasures, well liked by those who knew him.

When he died, he died with many friends and family about his bed and a feeling that somehow, in his own strange way, he’d managed to fulfill some great and noble quest.

Medically speaking

So anyway I had to create clients on my computer system to test insurance docutmentation on. I had to create someone to be my fuel-injected guinea pig. Ideally a family orientated person who’s going to have to be a multimillionaire to afford all the cover and brokerage fees they’re going to get whether ornot they want it.

So I reach into non-existence like a small, nice smelling god, and I pull forth my principle client.

She is a female. As she’s often are. (Originally she was going to be a man but I only had a female ID number so her parents were rather confused at the sudden sex change. It’s never easy on the folks.)

* Her name is Macaroni cheese. ( Her parents were hippies and all the weed and crystal meths had insured whatever name she got would be a lame one. It caused her a lot of trouble in high school but luckily she made the cheerleading team and there was a guy named Eustace to take some of the heat as well, I mean what do parents think naming their kids? Or small computer godlings either for that matter?)

* She is a butcher (Originally she was to be a stewardess but the optionsfor work descriptions were long and windy and I didn’t feel like scrolling all the way to S. Butcher she is.)

* and earns R20 000 a month. (Which gives me the uncomfortable feeling that she might dabble in some nepherious things that only butchers with the right dismembering and mincing equipment could be in!)

* She is married to Vegan Cheese who has is chronically lactose intolerant. (They tried to hide this on medical reports to keep the insurance down, but I’m good at my job and they eventually relented and gave a full medical report. At least I didn't mention his unfortunate rash...)

* Vegan is a rabbi. (very devout and his only regret is rabbi’s don’t have choir boys.)

* He moonlights as a Mortitian. (He currently get’s no earnings for it, it’s really more of a hobby)

* He earns R5000 a month (With his wife earning so much more,we suspect he might be a henpecked husband. We asked him but he had to go get his wife’s permission to answer first and then just never came back)

* They have two twins, a boy (Gouda Cheese – a red haired rambunctious kid. Which is odd as neither of his parents have red hair. The post man does though…) and girl (Bree cheese – dark hair and the spitting image of her mother in that she too likes sharp weapons and dead things.)

* Both kids will, for insurance purposes, have to come down with many weird and costly diseases. Which to cripple? Which to blind? The world of insurance can be a cruel one!

* They live in a four room house. (It’s in a good part of town. You have to have money to live there. After all the insurance policies they’re getting, they will have to move.)

* They have a pet dog. (He’s so cute I’ve decided not to give him rabies)

* They have two cars. (There used to be a third but an unfortunate accident involving alcohol, speeding and a mime scrapped that car and upped their premiums.)

* The first car is a porche. (This is owned by our dubious butcher principle client Macaroni – she likes the feeling of the wind in her hair and bugs in her teeth. Her husband borrowed it once and made a show of driving around all the churches in the area in a way that could be only described as 'mockingly'.)

* The second car is a hearse. (Because the porche is too small, the kids have to ride in the hearse at the back. They like to lie down and stretch their arms up to the windows, making clawing motions and watching other cars swerve suddenly away from them. Sometimes there is a body in there as well but Vegan tried not to bring his work home.)

* The family is very healthy. This is a momentary thing)

* The Cheese family is well off, they are content and life is rosy.

Now they will be truly tested! Medical insurance after insurance policy will be created. What family secrets will be relieved? Will they learn that Macaroni still smokes on the sly? How Vegan cheese got that nasty STD at Rabbi camp? How the kids are such liabilities that Macaroni and Vegan invest in a large chain saw – just in case?

Will the family survive these tests and turmoil? Will they be able to hold together or will they fall apart, as each medical insurance taken out reviles more uncomfortable, and frankly rather unbelievable, truths?

But now I must go off and do my testing. Work work work! And since that’s part of my job and therefore, quite confidential, you'll just have to spend the rest of your life wondering. Kind of like the Cheese family is going to be doing!

Pineapple blues

So anyway, it started as a day like any other day, the sun came up, the day dawned and velociraptors chirped from the treetops.

I was at my work station, a half smoked cigarette dangling from my lips (which, since I don’t smoke, was vaguely disturbing).

I was tapping away at my keyboard. Then I turned the machine on and it worked even better.

I was tired. I’d worked hard at doing nothing and felt I deserved a little something as a reward. After stealing my boss’s paperweight I decided even that wasn’t enough and that a delicious pineapple would go down just right. Especially if I cut it up first, not like last time.

I went upstairs to the cafeteria. Then I remembered it was downstairs.

The cafeteria was amazing. It served everything, even fish. The ones in the aquarium were always happy with the attention. Today’s special was advertized as bean soup. The smell coming from the bathrooms I went by confirmed it was.

I walk into the cafeteria. After rubbing my nose, I decide it would be easier to go through the door.

I start loading my plate up with goodies, mostly wallets and watches and anything else I can pry off people when they’re not looking.

I got to the serving counter and with a smooth and graceful demur asked, “WHERE THE HELL ARE YOUR FREAKING PINEAPPLES?!?!?!”

The lady responded in an odd voice, probably caused by my choke hold, “We only had one and that gentleman there has it!”

I turned to see a man sitting in the middle of the room, a knife (Not as big as my pocket machete but still pretty mean looking) pointed at the side of a pineapple that he was holding, gibbering wildly to himself like I do when the voices start up.

He was going on something about being stalked by an ex lover, how he couldn’t take it, how life was cruel and something else or other, I was too busy focusing on the pineapple. People go through hell all the time but a perfect pineapple is hard to find.

And it was a perfect pineapple, just the right shade of orangy-yellow, with firm flesh and a magnificent leafy green top spattered just lightly with the blood of whomever the mad man had wrenched the fruit from.

It was beautiful!

I had to have it!

I looked at the pain in the man’s eyes. His life was obviously completely off the rails, the obsessed ex had driven him utterly crazy.

He didn’t deserve that pineapple, he’d probably not even taste it as it went down.

I had to act!

I slid up to his table, mostly because I didn’t see that banana peel.

He was telling his friends about his woes. The fact that they were all invisible didn’t faze him.

I sat down opposite him. The spittle spray made me move another seat over.

“Sounds like you’re suffering my friend” I said, reaching out a comforting arm to the pineapple.

The man looked at me through blood shot eyes. He then put the eyes down and looked at me normally.

“Yeah” he said descriptively.

“I can’t believe she did that to you, man” I said sympathetically, “I never knew she was capable of it!”

“I know!” he yelled, “she won’t leave me be! I can’t get on with my life! I just want to move on, go to Alaska, go dive and slaughter seals and make bibs for toddlers, but how can I with her dogging my steps all the time?!”

He then launched into his whole life story.

Longest 2 minutes of my life.

“Thanks for listening mate” he said.

I notice his death grip on my pineapple lessening. “Maybe that’s all I needed to do, was talk about it a bit? Maybe, maybe it’s not so bad…”

“She sent you that pineapple” I said.

The man looked at it in horror!

That’s no way to look at a prime pine!

“She planted it in the cafeteria; she knew you’d want it.”

Now an ordinary guy wouldn’t fall for that but that’s why I like crazy people, they’re malleable, when they don’t bite.

The man grabbed the pineapple and made as if to hurl it from him!

“NO!” I yelled, “That’s what she wants you to do!!”

“It is?!” he asked, but then a look of suspicion snarled up his face and made me feel slightly offended that he didn’t trust my lies.

“How would she know? I could toss this fruit and she’d never know! She’d never find out!”

“Ah my friend I said” shaking my head sadly (poor pineapple), “She would know! It’s HER man! HER!! You know she’d know and she’d not let you ever not know how she knew after you did, you know that!”

“My god” he whimpered, “That makes sense…”

He slumped slowly into his seat, his fingers loosening slowly from the fine fruit. If he’d bruised it…

“Life is so hard! I can’t take it! Perhaps I should just end it? If only someone would show me some kindness, maybe things wouldn’t be so….”

I didn’t hear the rest as I yoinked the pineapple from his loose grasp, vaulted over the table, then back over again as it hadn’t been necessary, and ran out the cafeteria doors laughing all the way! SCORE!!!!

But don’t worry our story has a happy ending. The pineapple was delicious!!

Oh, and what happened to the man with the problems you ask?

Don’t worry, I didn’t give him even a small taste!

THE END

Have faith

So anyway there were these two Religious fanatics who were canvasing the area for people who couldn't run as fast as they could and disabled kids and trees and anything that would pay them the attention they craved.

So they went to this one little cottage and knocked on the door and scoped out the resident's mail while they waited in case there was anything nice they could borrow.

The door was opened by a sweet faced young woman and her fit and healthy husband. (If his insurance and gym membership were anything to go by).

The female fanatic quickly put her foot between the door and the wall to keep it open. She wore reinforced boots, not just because they made her look extra pious and holy and therefor earned her bonus points but also because of the many times her foot had been nearly crushed to a pulp in people's frantic attempts to get away from her Divine Message.

But the young lady did not panic, did not chase them away swearing or using the Devils logic to drive them back. After making sure no large dogs or cocked weapons were in the area, the Religion nutters were cautiously optimistic.

They went inside and sat on the sofa. It was a nice one. Very comfortable. They hated it at once.

"Do you know our Lord and Saviour?" the male one asked, waving aside offered biscuits, all hyped and ready to get his sales pitch on.

"We do go to services" replied the young lady, feeling a little put out and glad she'd not used the good biscuits.

"Ah but do you LOVE HIM?!!" foamed the male fanatic, "Would you DIE for HIM?!!"

"I would" replied the husband, calmly.

He then removed a pistol from his shirt and shot himself pointblank in the head.

"He's a man of conviction" said his pretty, brain splattered bride.

The Religious loons sat there with their mouths open. Partly because of shock and partly because they had bits of the now ex husband in their mouths and swallowing wasn't really optional.

"He had strong faith", smiled the wife. "And I wonder", she said as she picked up the now rather sticky pistol and aimed it at her new friends, "how strong, is yours?"

Kentucky Brain Fried

So anyway there was this woman who one day started growing feathers and a beak and wings and two large, well larger she’d never had petite feet to start with, clawed feet and turned into a large chicken.

Now her husband wasn’t chicken himself, in any form or function, but this was rather odd. It doesn’t happen every day like taxes and the mail and alien abductions and it had quiet ruffled his feathers!

But he had married her for better or worse and though he did suspect fowl play there wasn’t really much he could do about it. Besides he liked the fact that he now had quite the tale to tell! Stories about men whose wives became chickens were as rare as hen’s teeth! He decided he might even invite the neighbours over for a bit of a hen party!

So he built her a nice cage outside and chased the large chicken ex-woman, but not ex-wife, into it! She did manage to stab him with her beak a few times and he realized that he would probably spend the rest of his life as a hen-pecked husband. But he had a lot of pluck and a lot of pride, and with a cocky smile he informed the world that he’d do right by his avian wife!

Though when she started laying eggs, boy was he eggstatic! His eggstacy was through the roof! The eggs were large and would sell for eggxactly 5 times what an ordinary egg would!! He fed her top quality grain and kept egging her on to lay more! This would help him build up quiet the financial nest egg and mean he wouldn’t have to scratch a living anymore, relying on pay that was hardly chicken feed! When ever he thought of this it just made him crow with delight!

Having a large hen in the house felt very satisfying, almost as much as if he’d had a large cock!

In the end the husband was most happy with this arrangement, and they both lived happily ever after, she eating grain and laying eggs, and him reaping the benefits of having married the right chick!



JR Hudson

Pudding it in

So anyway there was this Scientist guy who decided that he just had to know if people would sink or swim in a pool of raspberry jello. He simply could not exist another day, or enjoy another jello and ice cream, till he knew the answer!

First he had to get finance. He went to many banks but they all laughed at him. He had bad hair, it was rather cruel. And then they’d hear his proposition and laugh all over again.

Luckily he was smart and with the last bank, instead of saying it was for home amusement and the continued education of mankind, informed the bank it was a government operation that could see the institution saving as much as 40% on staff lunches and custards. The grant was signed and delivered on the same day.

The next thing he needed was a computer big enough to do the massive calculations that would go into all research involving things like black holes and puddings. Luckily he was in the same sewing bee as Stephen Hawkings and so he managed to swop some up todate research on howler monkeys and a number five sewing pin WITH scarlet thread (the soft velvety kind, but he was a desperate man), for the plans to a mega computer that he managed to build in a few weeks worth of montages.

Finally the day came. Which it usually does after the night.

He placed all his theories into the machine, including sizes, area, flavourants, colourants and speculations on whether or not metro-sexual men will ever have respect, and then…. After hours of churning he managed to make perfect home made butter! Then he left the butter and went to get the results of the equations!

To his question – could a man swim in a pool full of raspberry jelly the answer was…. “YES!”

He was delighted! He jumped for joy, pirouetted in pleasure, did a river dance of revelry and was about to get his clogs on when he decided! Well why don’t I try it?

Racing off to the store he grabbed a basket, then went back and grabbed a trolley, and went to buy every raspberry jelly on the shelves! He must have gone to about 200 shopping malls! Which was about a third of all the ones in his area!!

Next stop the school! It was a Friday and he figured he’d have the whole weekend for work! (Excluding time for his series). They alone had a pool big enough! He belly crawled inside, over shrapnel and glass and other things he could have easily avoided and which was rather unnecessary as the building was open and deserted. And besides it’s hard to be stealthy with 8 000 packets of jello strapped to your back.

He ran to the pool water and placed his Giant-Mega-Ultra egg beater (that he kept for making Giant-Mega-Ultra omelets) into the water and turned it on. It churned the water like he had churned the butter before. It made him want a scone. But no time! He had to add the jello!

Packet after packet was torn open and tossed into the water! He tore packets open till his fingers bled. Then tore them with his teeth until his gums bled! Then remembered he had scissors in the car and the bleeding stopped.

Packet after packet went into the water until there were no more packets left to add! He had to wait rather a long time for the jello to set but he’d brought his game machine, quilting and a few issues of playboy (he read it for the articles) so time passed slowly and painfully.

But eventually the pool had set into a brilliant ruby coloured jewel that smelt so strongly of raspberry flavouring that it almost hid the smell of the professor’s unwashed body! It was Sunday evening, time was running out, the world was waiting!

Our hero stripped off his lab coat, revealing a small, once-yellow g-string speedo that was slightly more brown then yellow owing to the fact he’d been wearing it rather a long time and the loo paper had run out Saturday morning.

He stood on the edge of the pool. Remembered his machine’s calculations. And dived in.

His body was discovered Monday morning by the boy’s synchronized swimming and bake sale group. It was obvious he’d sunk straight down and attempted to eat his way back up, but his slight, stay-indoors-get-no-real-exercise-frame had been overwhelmed by the pungent dessert!

Amongst the onlookers was Stephen Hawkings who just happened to be in the neighbourhood and keen on a few brownies from the bake sale. Shaking his head, he pointed to a flaw in the Scientist’s research. “He forgot to carry the one” he said sadly, and every math teacher in the area understood instantly and wiped a glistening tear from their eye.

Hawkings punched in the correct data and instead of the “YES!” That had first come out of the machine, the answer changed to “NO! DON’T DO IT! YOU’LL DIE! I LOVE YOU!” which is pretty much what happens most in these circumstances.

The Scientist’s body was carefully cut out of the jello and the rest was surreptitiously siphoned away to be used in the schools lunch program since it was hardly the only thing fed to the students with human corpse in it.

Some say the riddle still stands today. Some say Hawkings tried the experiment himself and had varying success with lime and pineapple jellies. But I think you and I know, that some things, some things are better left a mystery.




JR Hudson

The man in the hole

So anyway there was this guy and he was walking along, minding his own business and looking up at the sky and thinking how the clouds looked like “Attack of The Killer Cauliflower”, when suddenly he fell into a hole in the sidewalk, right up to his waist!

Squiggle and squirm though he did he just couldn’t pull himself out. A crowd gathered and a man from the City Bureau of Large Ominous Holes came forth. He said that there would be no way to pull the man out without damaging the integrity of the hole, causing a chain reaction and destroying earth and life as we know it.

The man in the hole, having suspected this might happen to him, this wasn’t the first time in his family, decided there was no need to make a fuss and to live life on as usual.

He had his wife sell the house, which surprisingly she did, and set up a tent next to him so that he could see her and his son. He had his office work brought straight to the hole and never missed a deadline.

Sadly of course his life didn’t always go smoothly. He argued with his wife who said she felt they weren’t as intimate as before, at which point he did kind of point to the hole. His son was also annoyed because his dad never came to his concerts or went and played ball with him. Again the father pointed to the hole. His family felt he used that excuse for everything and one day they up and left. This wasn’t so bad, and he soon forgot their faces. (Though he remembered their shins and ankles for a lot longer but those memories also eventually faded.)

He worked a lot but never forgot to sit back, figuratively speaking, and enjoy life. In winter he had a small shelter put over him and, except for one bad fire caused by his heater and him having no where to run, it was a warm and toasty place to be. In summer a nice umbrella did him well against the sun and occasional downpours, though mud leaking into his nethers did lead to some discomfort and the danger of flash floods was never far from his mind.

Eventually he met Julie, the librarian from across the road who didn’t mind that he was half the man he used to be. She set up her own tent next to him, his wife having gotten the other one in the divorce. (He could have protested but never showed up at court.)

The couple didn’t have any children but that wasn’t a surprise, they just felt they weren’t able to be parents.

He worked very hard and sometimes Julie would complain of his late nights. But not too often since they weren’t that much different from his early ones.

Eventually He retired and the couple decided to see the world. So Julie bought him an atlas and DVD entitled “The world in photos” for his 60th birthday.

Julie had a bad hip but he never had any problems with his legs.

Eventually one day, the man woke up dead and all his friends and family, namely Julie, a few passers by and the rat that had started nibbling on his face at night, gathered around as the work men sort of stuffed the last of him down the hole and covered him up with good quality cement, the way they knew he wanted to go.

Some people say they can still hear the sound of a man yelling, “Get your dog off of my face!” to this very day!




JR Hudson