Welcome to Acerbia; population: π
This is the archive of the many and fabulous adventures of . Like a hard-bitten son of Michael Moorcock's Jerry Cornelius taught to write by William S. Burroughs; continually reincarnated, debated over by intellectuals and literati at cocktail parties the author can't get invited to, the target of scorn and ire from women everywhere, frequently mistaken for a former member of the Warsaw pact, named after the Italian explorer Giuseppe Acerbi, slowly rewriting the Book of Cataclysm, this is postmodern fiction at its most playful and creative.
In 1492, Columbo Sailed the Ocean Blue
As I'm often wont to do when I discuss my job, I shall pretend that instead of doing what I do do, I do something much more entertaining, such as juggling torched weasels or shaving laboratory mice, so for the sake of the following post can you please imagine that I manually relieve snakes for a living.
I'm no sales person, I'm analytical, cold and calculated. I work from facts, figures, not bullshit and bluster. So when I was asked to sit in on a meeting with a vendor to negotiate a supplier contract I had to have some coaching.
"Always look as though you knew what they were going to say. Never change expression mid-sentence. Agree with me no matter what I say. If I say that we need these white cotton gloves to manually relieve snakes or the world will end I want you to be able to back that up with a probability of blast radius and estimation of megatonnage, okay? Oh, and just... one last thing..."
What?
"No, that was just me practicing a Columbo. Limbering up, y'know."
A what?
"A Columbo, its a sales technique. You negotiate until you're bloodied and bowed and both parties have scraped the deal down to the bare bones and then you ask them to toss you a steak. They'll do it only because they can't bear to renegotiate. The trick is to make the Columbo just big enough for them to swallow without breaking the camel's back"
I think you're mixing metaphors there, but I don't mind. I have a spine and a soul and you don't, plus I can sleep peacefully at night without the ghosts of all the vendors I've screwed over keeping me awake in shrieking agony. I said to myself.
So we went into the meeting and the vendor had brought his tech guy so we could discuss the finer technicalities of white cotton snake-wanking gloves and the sales guys could argue over price and extras. The tech guy was there to try and match the five-finger dexterous features of the vendor's gloves to our requirements.
My sales person started the negotiations:
"So, we've been looking at the product spec and we don't reckon we need the full five fingered glove, we'd be quite happy just using the mitten version with opposable thumb"
The vendor's sales person fired back with:
"Our market research shows that..."
And the conversation went on from there. Occasionally I'd be called upon to say that our snakes wouldn't accept anything but natural fibre gloves for their relief provision and that we had internal processes that would mean we wouldn't need the magnifying attachments or that our snakes wouldn't benefit from the biweekly patching of the gloves and we'd rather have the gloves that wouldn't need patched at all.
Finally we had it down to a six figure sum for a one year contract. But as we were leaving I spotted that our Sales guy had something to add so I quickly pre-empted him.
"Just... one more thing..." I rubbed my forehead and looked down at the skanky brown leather shoes of the other tech "I want a pony."
The sales vendor just looked at me blankly for a minute. My expression didn't change and I looked round at my own sales guy, raising my eyebrows. Well?
"Uh... yeah... we want a pony" he confirmed.
The vendor and tech seemed to be trying to communicate telepathically, I could almost see smoke coming out of their ears as they tried to fathom what was going on. Until suddenly the sales vendor replied.
"Pony, not a problem, it'll be delivered with the first shipment of gloves. But... just... one more thing..." he said, rubbing his forehead.
Null and Void
We stood on the brink. The abyss yawned up at us, its gaping maw of obsidian darkness causing vertiginous nausea and I swayed for a moment, almost losing all sense of balance. I grasped at Katie's hand and realised she wasn't steady on her feet either. Had I been standing in the middle of a field I could have stood stock still for hours, but here, on the edge of the world somehow I felt fragile and weak at the knees.
Katie had been right; the Earth really was flat. The end of the world wasn't sometime in the future, it was a place where the planet simply stopped at a precarious edge, inky black starless void below. I trembled once more and decided I'd had enough. I could go back to my life now.
"Dare you to jump in" said Katie
"What? I beg your pardon."
"Dare you to jump in. Chicken."
"Oh that's really mature that is. This is it, this is the end of the world, there's nothing down there but void... double dare you."
"Double dog dare you."
"What kind of dog are we talking about here? One of those short little turds covered in fluff or are we talking big mean motherfucker?"
"We're talking double rottweiler hard-as-nails champion fighting-dog dare here."
"Oh, so not a fluffy little Maltese Shitzu double dare then?"
"Nope, baddest fucker in the pound. The one even the handlers wish would just die. Oh and did I mention its black? So this is technically a double black dog dare."
She had me there.
"Triple dare you?"
"Come off it. You can't top a double black dog dare with a triple dare, that's like trying to put out a forest fire with a paper napkin soaked in lighter fluid."
"Bollocks. Suppose I'd better jump in then, eh?"
So I did.
Perpetual Emotion
Menacing clouds gathered upon the horizon and a biting wind cut against my skin, causing me to zip my jacket up. My numb fingers wrapped around the chains and the plastic seat beneath me was still cold, I pushed with my feet and the swing carried me back and upwards, away from the vulcanised rubber surface below before propelling me forwards again.
"You could always try..."
Her eyes were still red and raw, the tears that had run down her face had left glistening trails that the wind now did its best to freeze against her skin. She didn't try to wipe them away with her gloves or sleeves, instead she gripped the chains of her swing and remained perfectly still, staring ahead into the middle-distance.
"You could try..."
I didn't want to talk, I had hoped to escape the tears and the pain and just feel the air rushing against my face, the velocity and inertia of the swing carrying me back and forth in hypnotic repetition with only the slightest effort on my part to maintain the pace. The decision had been made weeks ago, I had simply needed the time to strengthen my resolve and tell her to her face. A cowardly delay where I had maintained the facade that everything was fine.
"Other people... I mean..."
Her thoughts were addled and her reasoning had been derailed. I'd turned her world upside down and hoped to run for cover, unaccountable for my words. A pithy line delivered and all my bags ready and packed for a quick exit, stage left. Unrealistic? Perhaps. But wasn't this how it seemed to work in the movies? Nobody had the mental blockages or esprit d'escalier, they had the ultimate comeback and the wrongee put the wronger firmly in their place, so why now did I feel like the wronger? Why couldn't she just leave me to enjoy the swing.
"Is this why you've been so cold recently?"
My heels dig into the ground below and the soles scrape along, skittering across the padded surface and bringing my momentum to a halt. The chains twist and the links catch my numb fingers, pinching violently and leaving me with sores. I stand up from the swing and step away from her before turning to face her.
"I just don't love you anymore. This is as far as we go."
In a West End Park
An urban landscape, and at its heart; a park, fit for a regent. The lush grass and narrow pathways and we focus on a tree, where a small red squirrel flickers across the lawn snuffling here and there, nosing tiny twigs aside and scavenging for nuts and seeds. Suddenly he is surrounded by a collection of greys, they close in, grab him, pummel him, as a grey atop the tree is stationed as lookout. Finally the leader of the greys, Eduardo, neatly clips off the end of the red's tail with his nimble teeth. The lookout squeaks a warning and more reds rush in to face off against the greys. They circle each other and lunge and feint back and forth before drawing back when two pigeons land amongst them.
The burlier of the two pigeons chirps sternly at the greys and then inquisitively at the mauled red who is being defended by his leader; Squiff.
Squiff: Well if it isn't officer Squawky.
Eduardo: Good day to you officer Squawky, and to you Lieutenant Featherstone.
Squawky: Okay you rodents, knock it off. What's going on here? I'll bet you Greys have been up to no good again. Which one of 'em clobbered ya, Squee?
Squiff: Actually, we strongly suspect it was a pigeon wot did this guv'ner.
Squint: Two pigeons insfact.
Featherstone: Cut the frabbajabba. Which one o' the Greys did it?
Squee: I ain't no stool pigeon, pigeon.
Featherstone: Now you all listen to me, there'll be no more trouble round here, you Reds and Greys gots to start getting along... or I'm gonna start busting tails. Eduardo, get your boys outta here, none of ya's own this park but us pigeons.
Featherstone and Squawky flutter away as the Greys leave, tails high in the air, squeaking taunts and jeers as they go. Squiff motions and his band of Reds gathers round.
Squint: What's he on about? Course we owns this park, we fought for it long and hard
Squiff: That's right, and we ain't about to let no foreign rats take this place away from us. We needs to throw down a rumble.
Squee: And you'll be needing a lieutenant! That's me!
Squiff: That's Tony.
Squee: Who needs Tony?
Squint: Against those Greys we need every bushy tail we can get. But Tony ain't been a Red for a month.
Squiff: Listen!
When you're a Red,
You're a Red all the way
From your first stolen nut
To your last dyin' day.
When you're a Red,
And trouble's in town
You ain't got to fret
You got brothers around
And you'll never forget
You've sworn a blood debt
You'll always be Red,
Till you are finally dead!
Squiff scampers off to go get Tony as the rest of the Red scatter across their patch and begin to gather up nuts and berries sereptitiously. Meanwhile across the park the Greys have arrived back in the rougher side of the park where they live with their females. The females don't much like it here.
Sandy: Have you boys finished with your silly fights for today?
Eduardo: This is about making the Greys the biggest and best.
Sandy: Pah!
Hector: Yeah, once we owns the park we can go home again.
Chiquita: Why you wanna go home you stupid rat?
Chiquita: I like to be in Britannia,
Okay by me in Britannia,
Plenty of trees in Britannia,
Hector: And all the fleas of Britannia!
I like it better in New York
Chiquita: I think we need a long talk
Hector: Climate was warmer over there
Chiquita: What do you care; you're covered with hair
All: I like to be in Britannia,
Hazelnuts free in Britannia,
Plenty to see in Britannia,
Children to tease in Britannia!
Maria, a young female squirrel, little sister of Eduardo, has been watching the singing and dancing Greys with glee. She's never been allowed out of the nest before and in the confusion she scurries free and into the park. Without realising it, she strays into Red territory almost immediately and chases a butterfly gleefully through a flowerbed. On the other side of the flowerbed Tony is afixing a vine to a beanpole.
Tony: Oh I say, you startled me.
It is love at first sight as Tony, a streetsmart British red squirrel sees Maria, the grey foreigner, for the first time. He moves closer to her cautiously, not trusting his own instincts but compelled to nuzzle against her and as he does so Eduardo intercedes and knocks Tony aside.
Eduardo: You leave my sister alone, you stinking Red.
Eduardo knocks Tony away and Squiff dives in from nowhere. Maria runs off in terror back to the Grey's side of the park as Eduardo and Squiff circle one another claws bared, teeth sharp and glinting in the sunlight.
Tony: Squiff, no!
The distraction is just enough for Eduardo who leaps forward with his ferret-sharp teeth and tears at Squiff's exposed throat. Squiff cries out and tumbles into a tight protective furball as Tony lashes out instinctively, a killer blow that knocks Eduardo down dead beside the limp body of Squiff. Last man standing, Tony hears the flutter of pigeon wings and has time for one last cry before rushing off into the protection of some nearby bushes.
Tony: Maria!
Later as darkness falls across the park the Red are hanging out beside the water fountain on Broadwalk.
Squoboy: Any of youse guys get dragged down to the park warden's offices?
Squint: Yeah for a big fat nothin'! They gots to know it was those damn greys that done Squiff like that. Hey you! (imitating Squawky)
Squee: Who, me?
Squint (as Squawky): Yeah, you! Gimme one good reason for not draggin' ya down the warden's house, ya punk.
Squee: Dear kindly pigeon Squawky,
You gotta understand,
Its our diet of nut-kys
That gets us out of hand.
The kids are all a-teasing
The parents drive up bats!
All: Golly, moses, naturally, we're rats!
Squee: Gee, Officer Squawky, we're very upset;
We never get the loving of a domestic pet
We ain't no street vermin,
We're misunderstood.
Deep down inside us we're so cute!
All: We're so cute, we're so cute,
We're just Grade-A cute
Under the mangey fur we're all so cute!
Squint (as Squawky): Tell it to the judge!
Squee: Deeeeeeeear kindly Judge, your Honor,
Street living is so tough
The other pests are hardcore
But I'm covered in fluff
No-one makes me welcome
But I gots to make my way!
Goodness gracious, its a wonder I'm not gay!
Squoboy (as Judge): Right!
Officer Squawky, you lousy old grouch
This rat don't need a judge, he needs an analyst's couch!
Living outdoors, eating the occasional turd,
Is it any wonder that he's perturbed?
Squee: I'm perturbed!
All: We're perturbed, we're perturbed,
We're the most perturbed,
Like milkshakes we're permanently perturbed.
Squee: Deeeeeeeear kindly Ms. Head Shrinker,
My nightmares are a fright,
I never get to sleep,
just lie awake a night,
living in this park
alone and in the dark!
Leapin' lizards, that's why I go squeak!
All: Gee, Officer Squawky,
We're down on our knees,
'Cause no one wants a squirrel with a rabid disease
Gee, Officer Squawky,
What are we s'pposed to do?
Gee, Officer Squawky,
Squawk you!
With Squiff and Eduardo dead, Tony and Maria meet again under a lamppost in neutral turf near the bandstand, but Hector spies them and attacks Tony, killing him. Alone once more, Maria looks on dejectedly as the Reds come out to claim the body of Tony, taking him back to their dwindling side of the park, unaware that they are a dying race, slowly being stamped out by the encroaching Greys.
Submit Post
"You're to count down the strokes and thank me for each one. Nod if you understand me."
I nodded behind the protective darkness of the blindfold and gripped the bit firmly between my teeth, glad for its presence but confounded as to how I would make myself heard through it. The corners of my mouth were already stretched wide and my tongue lapped at the rubber involuntarily.
Behind me there was the cool swish of something cutting through the air near my exposed back and ass as the Mistress tried a few practice swings. I strained the muscles in my arms to reach even higher and gripped the metal handles tighter, trying to relieve some of the strain of my own body weight from my overstretched calf muscles, taut like piano wires.
I leaned in against the incline of the giant St Andrew's cross, my knees pressed into the studded leather padding, small comfort considering the impending punishment but every little adjustment made it slightly more bearable. I was already controlling my breathing and mentally preparing myself for the onslaught.
The buzz of the club had studiously been consigned away and switched off. The visual distractions of subs and doms, sado-masochists and painsluts, masters and slaves had all been removed by the blindfold. Smell and taste were now of nothing more than the artificial tang of the rubber bit. All my senses had been dulled to only feel her touch now.
A hand stroked my cheek and a voice whispered in my ear, the breath warm against my skin, "I wouldn't want to be in your place right now" and just as suddenly the voice and touch disappeared. My concentration broken by this momentary distraction I scrambled to rebuild my mental defences but it was too late.
There was the ghost of a slipstream behind me before the searing, slashing sting of the cane bit deeply into my flesh and the wave of pain spread throughout me like frozen meat instantly defrosting. In the moment I forgot myself and there was an impatient prompting from my Mistress.
"Well?"
I gathered my wits and choked out the expected response through the bit gag.
Ninety-nine. Thank you Mistress.