The ferocious turbulence ensued as the craft began to penetrate the earths atmosphere, flames fired fiercely in all directions and the shiny metal outside of the flying disk was no longer visible through the red glow of intense heat. “Just a few more seconds” Nettles shouted to her trusty companion as everything was shaking violently. Sam who was basically a small brain in a large jar filled with some kind of jelly with various wires and small parts of circuit boards ripped from old washing machines and personal computers from the 1980’s attached to it. Sam used to be just like Nettles; Short with a very thin body, hair as black as coal, pale skin with absolutely no complexion what so ever, cat shaped eyes as black and as deep as space itself and small human like teeth with two stabby k9s at the top which were short and as sharp as daggers. The only difference between them previously being that Nettles was female and Sam was male. Sam died in a tragic UFO crash in the late 90’s and was kept by MI5 in a secret underground bunker somewhere near Huntington life sciences out in Suffolk when Nettles came to the rescue, only Sam was in fewer pieces by then and his brain was the only useful part of him left that was worth resuscitating. They were previously the greatest of frenemies when it came to space travel and would often crash into each others flying disks on purpose in space and had a long term competition over who could make the most intricate crop circles in some poor buggers field out in Wiltshire.
The turbulence ceased and all was calm again. The tinted moon smiled and the stars winked knowingly as the craft gracefully hovered above the green and brown fields, the mysterious forests, the winding rivers and of course the busy motorways. The clumps of towns and cities which infected all the skies hue with bright white and orange light which reflected from the clouds and ruined the night were the places to avoid for Nettles as her unusual looks would shock people into reporting her to the local rag and she didn’t need any attention from local weirdos. It was time to rest and Nettles safely landed the craft into a patch of grassland that was sat beautifully between a patch of forest on a hill. As she was landing the rumbling sound alerted the keen ears of a deer whom soon ran quickly and then tripped over a fallen tree then flew 6 feet across the grass into a rock. “I sense dinner” Said Nettles smirking and rubbing her tiny pale hands together. Sam ignored this not having eaten in 20 years and instead simply let out a few bubbles into the thick jelly that surrounded him. As the bubbles slowly move upwards towards the surface Nettles pressed waved her right hand and the door to the craft opened, quickly she closed it again as the heat from Earths entry was still quite intense. “Your going to have to wait a while” Said Sam in his robotic computer voice. “Can you not set the Air con to outside the ship” Nettles replied while raising her eyebrows. Sam said nothing and let out some more bubbles, he was a stubborn control unit as he didn’t really want to be one. He would rather be flying around the earth taking out chunks of cows and cooking them on campfires under a dim moonlit sky in the warmth of southern America or scaring off random strangers in parks in small towns in Devon.
“Oh for fucks sake” shouted Nettles. Nettles sat down cross legged and tuned into the radio to listen to the dance music change slowly into the lary and loud breakfast show as the sun slowly came up and the moon faded into obscurity.
“Right let’s grab this dead animal”
“Right let’s grab this dead animal, I’m hungry” Nettles commanded as she waved her hand to open the craft’s door. She stepped out into the daylight and quickly stepped inside again screeching like a cat that had just had its tail stood on. The daylight wasn’t exactly a close friend of hers as her pale skin would burn quickly in the sunshine, even on a dull day like this one. “Oh god were gonna have to wait again!” Exclaimed Nettles. “You stupid humanoid” smirked Sam in his robotic computer voice. Nettles curled up on the hard floor and attempted to sleep. She turned and twisted and twisted and turned underneath her worn thin gray blanket that she found on the side of a small winding road one day and eventually found her slumber. She was snoring in a high pitch and dreaming of a better life: surrounded by friends, dancing under the moonlight and playfully running around in the forests. “Wake up Nettles, the night time has come” Sam stated. Nettles made some incomprehensible noise that sounded like something between a growling Chihuahua and a helium filled bear. Her mouth was as dry as an arid desert and her stomach was rumbling like the purr of a tiger. She stirred and slowly stood up right, stretched out her arms and let out a long yawn. She waved her hand to open the door and stepped outside. The small deer was still and lifeless over by the rock as the hoot of an owl traveled through the woods with great ease. Nettles stepped down from the craft and headed towards her dinner almost tripping over the same tree that had changed the fate of the poor deer. “Dammit” she muttered under her breath as her teeth became more prominent and her black eyes widened. First she was gonna bite the poor things throat and suck out the blood for she was thirsty and then she was gonna bite chunks of meat from the animal and cook them on the engine of the craft for she was hungry. She began to carefully step towards the animal checking for signs of breathing, below her feet a branch quickly snapped and the sound echoed through the forest, the poor deer twitched and looked around, quickly stood up and ran away through the trees as fast as it possibly could. “FUCK, Fuck, fuck” Nettles shouted as she headed back to the craft with her head to the ground and her shoulders slumped forwards. “Well off to catch a cow then” reassured Sam Beef was Nettles least favorite food as she once mistook a bull for a cow which lets say didn’t end too well, nettles has had a gangster lean ever since.
Back in the ship and the tension between the two could be cut with a chainsaw. “It’s got to be beef Nettles” said Sam. Nettles stamped her feet on the ground as if she was a toddler as Sam stressfully released some bubbles into his Jelly, The hunt would begin immediately for Nettles was getting hungrier and hungrier. She fired up the motors of the craft and it began to hover, shimmering in the night. She maneuvered the craft over the trees and the fields scanning for cows as she did so. Meanwhile nearby, clumsily galloping at a slow pace was an escaped cow trying to get away from the strange whirring noise coming from over the hill, unaware of her fate the cow had a feeling in her stomachs that something wasn’t quite right. And that gut instinct was spot on for Nettles sensed the cow and steered the craft towards it without a second thought. The craft began to spin and went directly upwards into the sky. “Engage beam” said Nettles as some bubbles raised in Sam’s Jar a bright white and yellow beam shot down directly over the cow from the bottom of the craft and began to pull. “Mooo, moooo” said the cow as what else would you expect a cow to say. The cow began to levitate above the ground and continued to moo. The cow got higher and higher in the air until the beam went wrong. The cow was pulling back on the beam with its gravity and the craft was being pulled downwards. “More power on the beam Sam” said Nettles a few more bubbles in the jar and then the beam below the craft got brighter and pulled harder. The cow was not gonna win this this, she got pulled all the way to the flying craft and a port below the ship began to open. The port however was not all that large, Nettles being small only required a relatively small craft and thus… The cow wouldn’t fit through the port, it got kinda jammed. “More power on the beam Sam”. The cow bent in some weird angle into the port as if it was attending a yoga class or some shit. The craft projected up higher and higher into the air, “Switch off the beam Sam, just switch it right off”. The beam became non existent and the cow fell one thousand feet from the sky. With a huge crack and a splat the cow hit the ground, she would moo no more. “Not quite how I wanted it to happen” screeched Nettles pulling at her hair. The craft came down from the sky and hovered over the field and then lowered onto the green green grass. The door of the craft immediately opened upwards and Nettles jumped out of the craft like there was going to be no tomorrow. She ran to the dead cow, her mouth was watering. She began to bite it anywhere she could and suck the remaining blood from the body, until her face was painted red with it. Then she began to bite deeper into the animal and ripped out chunks of flesh with her mouth. She only had a small mouth so buried her head into the corpse all the while shredding through the flesh and biting chunks of meat out with her teeth. She grabbed all she could carry and head back inside of the craft in glorious victory. “We have some food at last” said Nettles dumping the food into a sliding door on the side of the interior of the craft.
“Time for dinner”
“Time for dinner” said Nettles, her face still bloody and saliva running down her chin. She undid some nuts and bolts above the crafts engine and threw a couple of slabs of beef on top of it. As the meat sizzled and the smell began to become more intense. Nettles started to squeeze blood from some of the other chunks of meat into a bowl. She then carefully poured the blood into a funnel which lead to one of the tubes sticking out of Sam’s jar. The color of his jelly which was usually clear dispersed into clouds of red which slowly expanded around inside. “Thats the shit, thats the shit right there, ooooh” Sam groaned in an ecstatic voice as Nettles flipped over her cuts of beef with a fork. It was getting a bit steamy inside the disk so Nettles opened the door to let some of it out, “I think this is ready now” she said with a wide grin. She closed the door and picked up the two pieces of meat with her bare hands and tore it apart with her teeth and munched on the meat as speedy as light. She let out a long loud belch and put the fork and other things away in a sliding slot on the inside of the craft.
Bang! ZZZZing clunk, Bang! ZZZZing clunk, “God damn fucking space cunts” Came a loud voice in a thick Devonshire accent. “Nettles, Nettles I think we have made a new friend” said Sam adding “And he has a rather large shot gun”. “Rightio then Sam, time for take off!” said Nettles in a shaky high pitched voice. The craft took off into the air while the farmer stood alone with his shot gun. He waved his fist in the air and gritted his teeth. The moonlight shimmered off the craft as it took off, quickly zipping across the sky and into obscurity. Higher than a hippy in the sky there were now, a migrating albatross thunked against the craft and fell thousands of feet to its impending death against the edge of a cliff. Nettles and Sam hesitantly hovered for a moment wondering where to go next…
My dick like anothers bank account difficult to access
I don’t wan any bitch who thinkin who she’ll shag next
Perplexing i don’t wanna go outside anyway
How am I gon get ma way if I stay home n play
Simon was sat on the sofa, his bony body sunken into it, his skull pointed towards the blank television. you could almost make out a smile by his skeletal jaw.
out of nowhere and into the armchair; Terrance appeared, his head twisting around like an owl’s as he adjusted to his reality.
“good evening!” announced Simon with a dull element of excitement in his voice pointing to some kind of enthusiasm.
“Whats so good about it” Terrance replied his ghostly body twitching, his arms stretched out and his face was yawning wide.
“Where’s harry” inquired Simon. “Harry, who the hell is Harry” replied Terrance; scrunching up his face in confusion
“you know the blood sucking freak” responded Simon in a condescending tone. “Nah don’t know im” scoured
Terrance. “You know the guy that got me my fags” said Simon suddenly realizing that he wasn’t smoking. He reached out his bony hand shakily to the coffee table, picked up his pack of cigarettes and preceded to pull out a death stick. “Ah the evil weed, my one true friend!” said Simon in a lazy throaty voice while exhaling the smoke; his yellowed finger bones extended to a tight v, gripping to his cigarette.
Then, out of nowhere; came a thud at the window, and then another. A few drops of blood splattered on to the window pane.
“For fucks sake, let harry in” exclaimed Simon. “I cant let him in I’m a bloody ghost” snapped Terrance.
Simon, still sat at the sofa calmly taking another toke of his cigarette. He stubbed it out and proceeded to fall asleep.
The bat at the window hovered outside for a moment and then flew away.
Bzzzzzz Bzzzzzz Bzzzzzz; the intercom was going off, Simon woke up. His arms accidentally flinging the ashtray onto the floor with a bear like clumsy stretch. The butts were all over the carpet and a mist of cigarette ash spread through the enclosed dusky air like a plague.
Simon slowly got up and walked out of the room and into the flat hallway where the intercom was, he then picked up the receiver ready to speak. “Who the hell is this” he moaned, ready to slam it down at a moments notice.
“It’s harry, it’s harry, let me in before the sun comes up” huffed harry in a hurried voice. “Oh okay” groaned Simon pressing the door release button for only a brief moment.
With groaning and straining noises from downstairs also came the loud bang of footsteps as if Harry had gained some weight.
Simon put the door on the latch and strolled back to the living room to sit down. Harry was taking his time and Simon couldn’t be bothered to wait for him.
Simon sat back down on the sofa, proceeded to pull out a cigarette and lit it; breathing in slowly as if he was Bob Marley.
“Who knocked the ashtray over” complained Simon noticing the cigarette buts on the floor. “You bloody idiot” mumbled Terrance half under his breath.
And immediately there was a crash and a bang and several bangs afterwards resonating through the walls, Harry had fallen down the stairs. “I think Harry fell down the stairs, should we help him” said Terrance. Simon stubbed out his cigarette with a gormless look and slowly sank into the sofa.
Meanwhile downstairs there was a moan and a groan as if someone was taking a shit, which was followed by a stomp and another stomp and another as Harry walked up the stairs.
Harry had finally made it up the stairs, there was a huge thud, he was putting something down. Harry opened the door struggling to pick it all up again and walked through the hallway and into the living room.
“Hi guys” shouted Harry enthusiastically. Somehow even after his fall he was still happy, he always was.
“What you got there, beer?” inquired Simon looking at the two crates of cans looking like they had come straight from the back of a lorry or supermarket.
Harry struggled to to put down the crates onto the coffee table, he dropped them halfway and the table legs broke under the immense weight.
“For fucks sake” shouted Simon sat on the edge of the sofa, his knees trembling of the shock.
“Theres one thing I love as much as I love the blood of virgins” said harry, his eye brows raised and a devious smile rising up on his face…
“Energy drinks!” exclaimed Harry. “Ooh energy drinks” said Simon ripping open the plastic wrapping on the top crate and helping himself to a can.
The crack and fizz of the can opening reverberated through the room as Simon poured the whole can through his skeleton, waterfalls of the dank yellow liquid came gushing through his rib cage like waterfalls; the fizz sounded through the room as the liquid soaked into the sofa and the carpet.
“Ooh thats satisfying” said Simon helping himself to another can. “I want one, I want one” yelped Terrance like an over excited puppy who had just hit puberty.
Harry obliged and opened a can to pour it right through Terrance; the surgery chemical spill soaking into the armchair making it look like Terrance had wet himself.
Just half an hour later and all of the 48 cans were empty and were just dumped on the floor in a messy stinky pile.
Terrance was sat on his own head upside down on the arm chair and Simon’s teeth were chattering as if he had come in from the cold.
Poor Harry hadn’t even had a single can and was sat next to Simon on the wet sofa with a frown on his face and his arms folded.
“Oh it’s okay, I can get more tomorrow” he pondered to himself.
“I wanna write a song, I wanna write a song, wheres my guitar” shouted Simon as if he was shouting to himself.
“A song, a song!, thats a great idea” shouted Terrance in a muffled voice. He was still upside down but facing the back of the arm chair.
Simon wandered to the storeroom to find his guitar while Terrance attempted head spins on the floor and Harry sat down huffing to himself in disappointment.
Simon found himself in the store room facing an enormous mountain of junk being circled by vultures while Spanish guitar music resonated in the background.
He buried himself under some of the junk and wandered on to find two shrunken heads hanging off and old table, they were arguing about a woman who had long since died on the plains of Africa; “Shes mine dammit, I kissed her” said the first one in a high pitched voice. “Well I got over the sweater action” argued the other his voice not dissimilar.
“Shut the hell up you two” shouted Simon, “have you seen my guitar, it’s painted black with skull stickers on it” continued Simon. “guitar” they both squelched in unison; there heads pointing west.
Simon moved on, he was still desperate to sing and play some chords, an hour later after walking through the ruble, disused furniture and old catalogs his guitar was finally within sight. He ran to his beloved tripping over a huge pile of odd smelly socks. As he fell there was a mighty rumble and showers of junk fell all around him; dusky clothes, empty wine bottles and various other forms of trash.
“Oh sodding hell, I’m stuck here” he pondered picking up his guitar and playing some melancholy chords. “theres no way out of hereee, theres no way out of hereee” he sang in a mono tonal croaky voice. His song resonating through the chaotic endless spiral of disused junk. He had finally crashed from all the caffeine.
Simon’s skull was piss yellow from all the cigarettes he smoked. The ten teeth that he had left had become yellowy brown for the same reason. He stood up, his bony skeleton cracking as he did so.
“I’m getting too old for this” he said in a disgruntled tone.
Terrance immediately sat on Simon’s seat, trying to reach for the pack of cigarettes. But his ghostly hands just went straight through them.
“Ha Ha!” Simon laughed. Terrance stood up and looked out of the window…
To his utmost horror saw a plethora of colorful light shows hanging in the center of the street.
“can you open the window Simon?” he asked weakly. The ice cold weather no obstacle to the two due to their lack of nerve endings. Then the most cataclysmic and disastrous thing either of them could ever imagine occurred to them .
The sound of singing over cheap megaphones, the colorful lights and the ice cold weather.
“Oh bloody hell! Simon proclaimed
“What is it you cantankerous old fool?” Terrance responded.
“It’s only bloody Christmas” Simon said. He reached his bony fingers towards his cigarettes in a desperate search for release from their gloomy epiphany. “Well close the bloody window, I can’t stand that horrific music” interrupted Terrance.
“Get the hell out of my chair and I’ll close the window” said Simon. Terrance had a terrified look on his face as he floated to the other chair by the television. “Hey you bony freak, put the TV on” demanded Terrance. “That TV hasn’t worked since 1953 you insolent nincompoop” said Simon, reaching for his lighter. Simon extended his bony hand out for a cigarette, pulled it from the packet and lit it. They both pondered in a brief moment of calm.
“Bloody idiot” said Terrance
“What?” said Simon
“I dunno, I just felt like saying it and it is true” replied Terrance
Simon reached out his bony hand and arm and stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray. He then searched his pack so he could smoke another one. He gasped then started to rattle and shake. There were no cigarettes left.
“Oh dear god we’ve run out of fags” said Simon stumbling his words. “So what!” replied Terrance
“No this is serious. This means were gonna have to go outside” said Simon.
Normally when Simon ran out of cigarettes they would end up hiding from mortals and stealing them from the local corner shop.
“I don’t want to go outside, you can go on your bloody own” Said Terrance in a stern manner. “But I need you to haunt the shop assistant so I can hide in full view in a witches hat and reach for the fags” replied Simon. “that only works on Halloween, you incompetent idiot” said Terrance. “I’m sure we have a Christmas hat and some tinsel somewhere” replied Simon. “It’s no bloody use, your just gonna have to quit” said Terrance with a smug look on his face.
Five long minutes went by and Simon was shaking and rattling. “Stop bloody rattling you insane idiot” shouted Terrance
“It’s no bloody use, I really want a fag” replied Simon. Another five minutes went by. And another five minutes went by.
Terrance was now even more agitated than Simon of his rattling skull, his shaking skeleton and his perpetual pacing up and down the living room. “okay then, bloody hell, I’ll come outside with you” shouted Terrance. Simon’s bony face morphed into something vaguely resembling a smile. “Yippee!” shouted Simon. His voice had become childlike from the excitement. “Were gonna get some fags!” he sang in a tuneless voice. “If it will shut you up” responded Terrance.
Terrance; despite perceptions was somewhat excited to venture outside. After all, Simon hadn’t ran out of cigarettes for just over three years. Terrance went into poltergeist mode and whispered “Simooooon, Simooooon” and the room began to shake all around him. “That was my favorite cup you damn fool” said Simon as his besotted cup fell to the ground from a shelf shattering into hundreds of tiny pieces. “But at least I know your ready to do this” continued Simon. Simon wandered off into the store room, he started pulling out drawers opening cupboards and generally turning the whole room upside down. Terrance came floating through the wall from the living room. “What are you doing” said Terrance. “Looking for my Christmas hat and the tinsel” replied Simon emptying another drawer onto the floor carelessly spreading its contents all over the floor.
“It’s on top of the TV” said Terrance. “It’s been there for the last five years you numb skull” continued Terrance. They both returned to the living room and looked at the TV with a Christmas hat on it with tinsel over the top. “So it is” said Simon. He reached his bony hand to the top of the TV and picked up the hat and tinsel while sleigh bells resonated in his head. He pulled the hat over his skull and and wrapped the tinsel over his shoulders. “right, we’re off to get some fags” said Simon his excited child like tone returning to his voice. “Oh okay then, if we must” replied Terrance. They both ventured to the front door of their flat and Simon opened it, its hinges creaking the door letting in a blast of ice cold air. They could see the hallway in the building was was decorated with Christmas lights and the sounds of faded Christmas music was coming from outside the door, “Ghastly” said Terrance as Simon slammed the flat door shut behind them. They both stood stunned in the hallway staring into the lights. “I can’t do this, I… I… I’m just gonna have to quit” stammered Simon. “Quit! you’ve brought me all this way and now your gonna quit, you’ll never quit anyway were just gonna have to keep going” commanded Terrance. “Your right, I’ll never quit” Said Simon slowly walking down the stairs.He walked passed the other flats with Terrance floating not far behind him. They had made it to the back of the front door. “You ready?” asked Simon. Terrance nodded so Simon slowly and carefully opened the door… Only to be greeted by a group of young children and a couple of adults sining jingle bells. One of the adults was holding out a donation bucket. Simon looked at them as they continued to sing, his knees turning to jelly. Simon screamed. The children all suddenly noticed that Simon was just a skeleton and they all screamed back. Simon screamed again, Simon did not like human mortals. They all ran away as fast as the wind, leaving their donation box behind them. The sleigh bells once again resonated in Simona skull as he grabbed the donation bucket it and quickly brought it in and slammed the door shut. Leaving the ice cold winds and the Christmas music behind them. They both hurried up stairs and Simon began to count all the cash in the living room. There were notes, nuggets, silvers and coppers. Terrance stared blankly at the dead television imagining they would be on the news for stealing money. “3,746 pounds” said Simon with a tight grin on his face. “Yes but how can be buy the fags with it?” inquired Terrance. Suddenly there was a blast of wind and the window rattled and few drops of blood splattered onto the window pane. A small bat thudded against the window.”open the window, open the window” said Terrance. Simon reached to open it up and with a puff of smoke harry turned into his human form. Pale skin, pointed teeth, balding hair and a long black coat. “we’ve got some money, will you get us some fags” demanded Simon without even saying hello. “yeah hi guys, I can do a night time shop run, no problem”. The sleigh bells once more resonated in Simon’s skull
the best laid plans all gone to waste my pace is resting still
of lifes demands my fate disgraced
of days so many ill
I should be glad I’ve had my fill
of food and love and play
although I’ll go another place
and never find the thrill
I’ve lost the cause I’ve honed my grave
with vice so nice to chill
but twice the rotton corpse charades
as when the darkness killed
all of my love I was betrayed
by bohemian will
and status lost and at a cost
and you all pay the bill
The smell of petrol fumes in the air masked my aftershave. The time was quarter passed two in the afternoon.
Over on the other side of the road was another bus stop. Cars, bikes and motorcycles were continuously zooming passed and even though I had been waiting for nearly half an hour now, it appeared that any bus was yet to come.
After all it was a Sunday.
The creeping threat of rain and the cold wind kept me in a petulant suspense.
The (dare I say) younger of the two ladies on the other side of the road kept standing up and sitting down as if she was playing a rather stagnant game of musical chairs. And no matter how many times she stood up and looked to the right again she could not summon the bus anymore quickly.
The older girl seemed keen to chat to her but she was seemingly and deliberately sat further down the stop as to avoid all the small talk and chitter chatter.
To be honest I felt sympathetic towards the older girl as she must have been lonely. Perhaps her husband had died. I pondered on this and soon began to question the solidarity of my own mortality.
I was soon distracted as my bus had finally arrived. I stood up and stuck out my hand. I was very much looking forwards to a cup off hot coffee and some chocolate biscuits.
After all there is no place like home…