Dr Nahnowbou is not to be trusted. He will be first to break in, holding the brown note I wrote him. I will first smell his expensive aftershave hiding the smell of dirty sex and urine. He is all dripping with exspensive, tastless jellery, Armani suit covered in stains and dry seamen. You never hear him, his monkey feet stick to the walls.
He has a helper, Sir Phonman Hyperboil, who fetches him things. There is something not quite right about Sir Hyperboil, he always looks the same but 'different' - on further note I expect there to be hundreds of Hyperboil's - but they all look the same. Kind of Gollum/monkey/lemar type. Some people believe they are ancestry to the Madagascar Night Storker (Aye Aye)...Anyway I believe there to be more than one of them, even tho their glass eyes are always the same, their cheesy ties keep changing. From Kipper ties to ones with keyboards down the side to Homer Simpson ones. The list is endless. However the Doctor tells me there is only one. Pointing out the shitty BMX is always the same. If I'm lucky I will only deal with Sir Hyperboil as the Doctor is a bitch to beat - he'll argue me into drinking the scum around the porceiling, with a pink stripped Mac Donalds straw, found on Island Hepititus....
...I digress, the doctor isnt a real Doctor, more like a back street one. I think he used to be a salesman, he definatly sells you to the product, not the product to you. Some say he used to be a high powered lawyer from New York. He spends his Tuesdays masterbating his wrinkly, cracked skin cock in bushes around school play grounds.
He talks to me in a very dull monotous voice, breaking each sentence with coughs, forming words like CUNT,LOZER,PANIC,NOW NOWW! They echo round my head like sleep deprived Amphtamine shadow people. It is almost comical at first, but it gets old really quick.
Spittal comuncation hits my neck, freazing me. Then It starts! He talks about The Cunt. Even the mear mention of The Cunt and goose bumps on goose bumps form, ice cold elecricity runs through my vains, flour in my lungs, bone marrow turns to ice, wire wool in my stomack, legs kick - the general feeling like someone is walking over my grave - PANKIC!
You see dear reader, hes only The Cunts representative. He acts kind of good cop bad cop, saying if I dont do what he says he will wheel in The Cunt.
The Cunt hasnt really got a name but I call him Chieftain Boomtahg. I hear him coming like a scream from a Howler monkey. Chieftain Boomgtahg is meaner stronger less susceptible to disease and more dominant than a male Gorilla. He comes to me a night through the Doctor. Willfully opening the locks and bending the bars on my window. Costing me horrendous amounts of money in repairs and paying the Doctor to keep him at bay. He comes to me in my bed room.Naked, shaved and oiled. Goosebump thick black arm hairs risen off his skin. Standing in a pool of pizza grease. Barfing up flour. It enters my lungs. I cough. He laughs. Firstly he beats me into infantile weakness. He then mounts me. I know this molestation will go on for days but as I lie there like a soggy pussy, I find myself counting to ten in my head, over and over again. Trying to disract myself. Like Meril tells her flipper baby Richard to do when he scraps his stump.
Every now and then I have to crawl out of my pit, only just making it to the old empty Geebee 3 Litre bottle. Stinging hot urine falls out of me. It echos in the bottle, which only momentary distracts me from the bad noise that wants me dead...but hey, what you gonna do? you gotta laugh. (exspecially at my bad grammer and spelling if at nothing at all)
He has a helper, Sir Phonman Hyperboil, who fetches him things. There is something not quite right about Sir Hyperboil, he always looks the same but 'different' - on further note I expect there to be hundreds of Hyperboil's - but they all look the same. Kind of Gollum/monkey/lemar type. Some people believe they are ancestry to the Madagascar Night Storker (Aye Aye)...Anyway I believe there to be more than one of them, even tho their glass eyes are always the same, their cheesy ties keep changing. From Kipper ties to ones with keyboards down the side to Homer Simpson ones. The list is endless. However the Doctor tells me there is only one. Pointing out the shitty BMX is always the same. If I'm lucky I will only deal with Sir Hyperboil as the Doctor is a bitch to beat - he'll argue me into drinking the scum around the porceiling, with a pink stripped Mac Donalds straw, found on Island Hepititus....
...I digress, the doctor isnt a real Doctor, more like a back street one. I think he used to be a salesman, he definatly sells you to the product, not the product to you. Some say he used to be a high powered lawyer from New York. He spends his Tuesdays masterbating his wrinkly, cracked skin cock in bushes around school play grounds.
He talks to me in a very dull monotous voice, breaking each sentence with coughs, forming words like CUNT,LOZER,PANIC,NOW NOWW! They echo round my head like sleep deprived Amphtamine shadow people. It is almost comical at first, but it gets old really quick.
Spittal comuncation hits my neck, freazing me. Then It starts! He talks about The Cunt. Even the mear mention of The Cunt and goose bumps on goose bumps form, ice cold elecricity runs through my vains, flour in my lungs, bone marrow turns to ice, wire wool in my stomack, legs kick - the general feeling like someone is walking over my grave - PANKIC!
You see dear reader, hes only The Cunts representative. He acts kind of good cop bad cop, saying if I dont do what he says he will wheel in The Cunt.
The Cunt hasnt really got a name but I call him Chieftain Boomtahg. I hear him coming like a scream from a Howler monkey. Chieftain Boomgtahg is meaner stronger less susceptible to disease and more dominant than a male Gorilla. He comes to me a night through the Doctor. Willfully opening the locks and bending the bars on my window. Costing me horrendous amounts of money in repairs and paying the Doctor to keep him at bay. He comes to me in my bed room.Naked, shaved and oiled. Goosebump thick black arm hairs risen off his skin. Standing in a pool of pizza grease. Barfing up flour. It enters my lungs. I cough. He laughs. Firstly he beats me into infantile weakness. He then mounts me. I know this molestation will go on for days but as I lie there like a soggy pussy, I find myself counting to ten in my head, over and over again. Trying to disract myself. Like Meril tells her flipper baby Richard to do when he scraps his stump.
Every now and then I have to crawl out of my pit, only just making it to the old empty Geebee 3 Litre bottle. Stinging hot urine falls out of me. It echos in the bottle, which only momentary distracts me from the bad noise that wants me dead...but hey, what you gonna do? you gotta laugh. (exspecially at my bad grammer and spelling if at nothing at all)
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) books by Burroughs.