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TITLE (EDIT)
The Adventures Of Archie 3 - The Spider Catcher's Tale. |
DESCRIPTION
Archie escapes from the paralysing purple and find himself in a world where an avoidable infestation has eaten all the perspective. There he meets the spider catcher and learns why ballroom dancing is fatal for rats.
[1,313 words] |
TITLE KEYWORD
Humor |
AUTHOR
Xoggoth |
ABOUT
THE AUTHOR
-
[March 2004] |
AUTHOR'S OTHER TITLES (25)
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The Adventures Of Archie 3 - The Spider Catcher's Tale.
Xoggoth
Archie hated purple. He liked things to be coloured purple, who doesn't? but he hated purple. It made him open-minded and he didn't like that one bit. He had once swallowed a little bit of purple by accident in his bran and for days afterwards had been so open minded he was unable to hop. Was it really necessary for hopping to move the back legs like that? That was the way he and every other rabbit had done it since rabbits began, but was that proof? Maybe legs and hops were entirely unrelated and the link was a false one based on coincidence. On the other hand... He lay in a paralysis of indecision. Most people (except accountants obviously), having ingested the same relative dose would have recovered quickly, but we all know what nasty feeding habits rabbits have and he kept re-ingesting it. That particular habit, already requiring about as much open-mindedness as you can possibly get, was not affected by the purple. Archie lay transfixed by ambivalence in his purple pool of purple (purple is not always coloured purple, although it usually is) for a thousand days until the tide went out and those surroundings receded.
The world was flat in those parts and he was on a flat plain in the middle of it. The flatness was not readily apparent, as all the perspective had been eaten by a plague of Spatial Beetles. The inhabitants had been warned not to encourage them but, because the beetles were warm and cuddly, had persisted in leaving out tasty titbits of Euclidean theorems and signed photos of Stephen Hawkin. Everything appeared the same size regardless of how far away you got. Worse, since the angle subtended at the eye by one foot of ground was the same whether that foot was one inch or a thousand miles away, there were no horizons and the land apparently curved upwards into the sky, wrapping round and round itself in a bewildering kaleidoscope of scenery in which near objects were obscured by far objects. The only saving grace in this confusion was the atmospheric dust; far objects could be distinguished from much nearer ones by their misty appearance.
Archie threaded his way between the dismal little shacks to the nearest one. There was a sign on the door. "Licensed Spider Catcher". A wizened and very sad old man greeted Archie like an old friend. As they sat on the veranda drinking the local beverage brewed from cement and knitting needles the old man said, "Expect you'd like to 'ear my story." Not really, thought Archie but as he could not speak (that would be ridiculous, he was a rabbit) the old man continued.
The Spider Catcher's tale.
I used to be a rat catcher once but there just wasn't the money in it. I mean, anyone who can dance a decent tango can catch a rat, they are always far too partial to a bit of ballroom dancing. Put on the old Victor Sylvester and they're anybody's. Whirl one out on to the dance floor, make it feel relaxed by asking if it comes here often and telling it it dances divinely, then bang! Over the little whiskery head with a saucepan. The daftest thing is, you can do that to loads of 'em in full view and there will still be dozens more of 'em stood around the walls like little brown wallflowers fluttering their eyelids and hoping to attract a partner.
So anyways, I branched sideways into spiders. We did our basic training on fake spiders made of rope and old rolls of wallpaper. My first ever proper job with a live spider was in that big 'ouse on the 'ill there. He pointed at a nearby mansion mistily visible behind a distant mountain range. They 'ad this big 'un, seven footer it were at least, as used to live on top of their dresser. Kept on eating their kids. Got through four of the poor little buggers before they called me in. Mean as 'ell they was. Think it was more to do with the bones fallin' on their antique china collection than 'cos of any real concern with their offspring that they got me in at all.
That spider was a real vicious one. It had just captured the fifth of their six kids and was starting to suck its brains out when I got there. Having a bit of a struggle too. From what I heard later the kid was a bit dense. Two years behind at school, and that meant its brain was going to be pretty tough sucking. Anyhow, the spider sucked like mad, and you could see the kid's eyes sort of drawing into the sockets. Then the spider, its spiracles all flushed with the effort, would stop for a breather and those eyes would pop out again. Put me in mind of one of those jumping spiders that you work by squeezing a bulb but in reverse. Kind of funny in a way, unless you like kids of course. I didn't, and neither did its parents so we all had a bit of a chuckle over it.
You might think it pretty dangerous dealing wiv a spider that sort of size. Actually there ain't hardly no problem at all when they are feeding. Not that we would tell our clients that, we have to justify our fees after all. One track minded see? Sucking seems to be all their little brains can focus on. So I just sticks the step ladder up next to the dresser, puts the rope around its thorax and hauled it off. Being careful not to damage their china of course, they was very particular about that. Tied it up in their garage. Not much I could do with the kid, he was a gonna, big 'ole in is 'ead see?, so I bunged 'im in the dustbin. His mum come running out all upset and shouting at me that I couldn't do that. The dustmen 'ad just been and it was 'ot weather. Made me take it to the dump.
Then they wanted me to dispose of the spider. Told 'em I couldn’t, as I was only a licensed catcher. If they wanted a licensed exterminator that would cost a whole lot more and they would be lucky to get one this side of Christmas. They kicked up a fuss at first, but after a while, looking at the spider sitting there so quiet like they do, they calmed down. They looked at the spider, then at their remaining offspring who was covered in chocolate and screaming fit to bust.
They kept the spider, called it Cyril and put its name down for Eton. Fed the remaining little brat to it. Sensible choice in my view. Looked in from time to time to see Cyril over the years. Well, 'e was my first real case and I 'ad a soft spot for 'im. I was 'is godfather you know. Training to be a corporate lawyer now. I suppose blood sucking is in 'is blood.
The old man nodded off and began to snore. It was an irritating noise like a piece of new chalk on a blackboard. It put Archie's teeth on edge. After a few minutes his teeth were so on edge they went right over it. His gums followed a minute later, followed by his head, his neck, his abdomen and so on. His little white tail stayed on the veranda alone for nearly twenty minutes sipping on Archie's cocktail. If you spend your life perched just above someone's bumhole you get fairly insensitive to things. It might have stayed there and carved out a new life on its own if it hadn't got so sozzled. While looking for a fresh Maraschino cherry it too teetered off the edge and plummeted after the rest of Archie.
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COPYRIGHT NOTICE
© 2003 Xoggoth |
STORYMANIA PUBLICATION DATE
March 2004 |
NUMBER OF TIMES TITLE VIEWED
2616
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