A Plan Afoot

Genine was almost a foot taller than Karen, and thus was alpha girl.
This, however, didn't stop Karen coveting Genie's dollop, Tomm
Moore, in place of her own (named 'dollop', but that's kids for you).
Essentially slaves, dollops are normal fellas like you and me, just
unlucky enough to have been caught sleeping in the woods.
They get trawled by upper class 'gangs' on Sunday mornings.
Feckin' ponces.
Once scraped down and washed they are constricted into what
they call 'dollsuits' ... so what they end up as is a living doll.
Only able to move their heads and cry for help, but nobody is
listening.
This has been going on for years, generations of girls growing
up with such cruelly imagined playthings ... until somehow last
Friday, when Tomm managed to grab a razor blade with his
mouth and stash it in his romper.
For three days now, Tomm has been slowly scraping inside his
suit .... and now, now starts the plan.
While she was sleeping, afternoon nap like, Dollop whispered in
Karen's ear over and over that it was time, that the revolution was
now. Karen, waking up, just thought she was having a mad dream,
but still, her feckles were up, and she just kept picking at Genine.
The time was now, the escape was entering part one .. freedom
on it's way ....

why do they make it so hard, it's frustrating

When the devil knight runs at you with his magic sword of cat-nails
you have to sidestep, medium attack three times, jump and then
heavy attack. Then, you use you're anti-cat defence whip four times,
THEN you jump again, light attack, jump and then the knight goes
into phase one of 17 changes .....
Queen Tugg just didn't have the 'skillz'.
"I mean, what the FECK is that ? Why do they make it so hard that
you can't even beat him. This is stupid."
I don't think the lacy gloves really helped.
It turns out that that's why he was such an Iron fisted ruler, that
and being named queen instead of king.
such is life my queen, such is life.

love that Halloween

Yep.
Spanger and Thomas.



















They Love Halloween and so do I.

she just didn't fit in

Prussia, 1887.
She had hopes of having a child like like herself.
When he was born her heart at once felt the bittersweet
dichotomy of maternal joy and genetic repulsion.
For it was clear that her boy, this little hard shelled wonder would
take after her husband.
They were told that his shell would recede in time and that he would
probably be more of a hybrid, since his father was a pure breed,
surely HE, being only a semi-crust would eventually become more
like her.
She secretly wished.
NO.
Was he doing it deliberately, she wondered. Of course not ...
but he was, against all medical suggestiboles, even MORE Lobstarian
than his father.
Even in sepia photography his colours would come through.
He seemed more confident than all the other boys in school.
His difference made him special. Like his exoskeleton protected him
from their harsh words. As the years wore on, the men of the family
grew closer, and she more remote.
Buschinka was not so resilient as her son Clicky-Hans.
Her heart grew dry and sad.
Now, Her hopes lay in this new child. For she was four months
pregnant.
Maybe this time she would have a girl, maybe this time it would be
born with a dolphins tail and hoofs, like her mother and not hideous
like her boys.
Her beloved boys.

Born of a world torn asunder

Post war. The first family to have the gift of a child.
As a result of all the war years working in a bomb factory,
Fanny Hamchild's uterian business was mangled.
Only the handy tinkerings of her husband, Metalorion
(who was in fact Hubert Metal, the anchient god of metalwork)
- it was only his handy tinkerings that restored her insides to a
usable state.
So there it was, not 9 but 14 months after conception (allowing for
smelting and setting of the support strutts) that our little friend
was born.
Panface.
Panface Hamchild was his name, taking his mothers name to ensure
the anonymity of Hubert.
Panface might one day amount to something, only time would tell.

if you are #1003 you'll get a nice prize,

... if ye want it.

charley CARED for the community idiot.

Little Charley, he did so many things for the small town of Mong.
From playing with the over chromasomed children, to feeding
the over chromosomed adolescents all the way up to laughing at
the people of Spas farm.
He was like a traveling smar-e-t'n or something. Once his work
was done, his good deeds deedled, off again he was, down t'road.

ER, HANG ON, I'LL BE BACK

IN A MINUTE

A STICKUP IN LADDER LAND !

The Amazing Pickuppity Brothers.

This is Miklophe and Milton Pichuppty.
Mike likes hugs, but only from trusted brother, and lifter, Milton.
Mike is the brains of the duo, the choreographer, the showmanship
behind each and every masterful lift.
Milton, on the other hand, is somewhat challenged in the art of thinking.
Always getting into confusing situations simply because he doesn't get
how the world works. The only time he appears to be in control is when
his big brother Mike is in his grasp, held up, high above his head. That's
when he's happy, when he thinks he's doing a good job and making his
brother proud.
Every lift achieved, every tap dance while holding Mike in the air
'makes momma proud'.
Milton doesn't have a long life expectancy though. Unknown to most, but
perhaps to the more astute of you, exposed by his bent and ruddy hand
there on his hip, the sure sign of 'mangle hand' syndrome, a terrible and
ultimately incurable predicament. Lifting is all that makes him happy, it's
the only thing the ruddy and otherwise decorative 'gland' is good for.
'Lifting is like Buddha's song'.
That's what simple Milton says.
Mike takes great care of his small, fading twin.
... and so they lift, for momma and for the sake of brotherly love, for one
day it will be the soft thought that lays Milty to his rest.
Sleep tight children, and take care of one another.