Saturday, May 20, 2006

you know how much work it takes to wash that linen?

Caught in
the act
! The Arthur Rackham artist person saw this very scene as he peaked out of the wardrobe with his knickers scrunched up in front of his very droopy wang. Snak the Truthtongue was telling this young lady that her muscley thewed husband was muscling a large pig in the fields.

She subsequently chased her pork-scented paramour round the whole South Wing with a knife slashing at his scrotum every time he slipped over. Arthur was so frightened by her magnificent rage he shrivelled into monogamy for the rest of his life.

He did get a good picture out of it though, and I get to remember Snak, who later got into the Louis Vuitton trunk and went on holiday to Switzerland with the outraged bride's family. On an outing to a glacier, he shapeshifted down into a minimal kind of semitransparent shadow and curled up inside the lid of a thermos flask, which kept him very cosey. Unfortunately she allowed the guide to undo her stays, became unduly excited and dropped the flask, which rolled into a crevasse.

Since then, goblins have led no less than fourteen expeditions to rescue him, now frozen solid inside a silver jug inside a crystalline blue-green mountain of ice. It is one of those times when immortality can be a real pain in the arse.

I admire Snak, because he had that expression of wet helpfulness down so well he was able to wreak havoc with inconvenient facts for centuries.


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