Saturday, October 21, 2006

 

The Drugstore Comic Book Incident (epilog)



Yes, we really do spell it like that in America.


Kim Ayres and Dr Achilles ‘Ack’ Maroon were found guilty on multiple counts of murder, kidnapping, amputation, robbery and gross bad taste, and were sentenced to serve fifteen life sentences each in Alcatraz. Maroon made an abortive attempt to escape after a year by secretly building a jet engine out of scraps from the prison’s metalwork shop. Ayres became a born-again Christian and eventually ran his own televangelist TV network from his cell.
.

Joe K’Mayall decided to leave his drifting days behind him and pursue a career teaching sign language to deaf kids. Last I heard, he wasn’t doing so well work-wise.

Gorilla Bananas was fished out of the river after two days, hypothermic but alive. He was given the freedom of the city in recognition of his contribution to apprehending the perps, and rumors are he’s going to run for mayor. El Barbudo was never found.

Oh, and my Pussy was found entangled in the gorilla’s fur and returned to me. Wet, hairy and smelling of fish, she worked fine.

Sam Bride and I keep in contact. She’s considering being Bananas’s campaign manager. The law which (quite rightly) forbids romance across the species barrier means that the affection between them has to be restrained, but they’re still good friends. And if first thing in the morning she sometimes carries the faint but unmistakable scent of gorilla, why, it’s none of my business.

Sarah Laughs was sentenced to ten years for her part in the conspiracy, but McShae decided he still loved her and hijacked the van that was transporting her to gaol after her trial. I don’t know where exactly they are now, but the other day I got a blank postcard from somewhere south of the Rio Grande, and attached to it was a generous check. It bounced, of course.

Philip Challinor went on to become head of the FBI, but, frustrated by that agency’s exclusively domestic role, he switched to the CIA. We exchange cards every time he topples the government of a small Latin American country.

SafeT quit dressing up as a trash can and went for the leafy vegetable look instead. Now, if I want information, I have to visit the greengrocers and supermarkets to find him.

Fat Mammy Cat got five years for aiding and abetting but was released after six months as the prison governor and all the warders were too scared of her to keep her there.

Old Knudsen I had assumed perished in the fire, but a couple of years later I was real depressed one night and called up the Samaritans and there was his voice on the line. I’ve never been depressed since then.

*

And yours truly?

Well, the morning after the events of that night I woke up with crushing, vice-like chest pains that radiated down my arm. I got to the phone in time and was rushed to hospital where I underwent emergency quadruple heart bypass surgery followed by a month in intensive care. My doctor pronounced himself baffled by this turn of events and said that I was one of the healthiest people he knew. We were in his office six weeks later, sampling the brandy and Monte Cristo cigars I’d bought him as a thank-you gift. He concluded that there were some mysteries medical science just wasn’t up to answering, even in 1949, and he advised me to avoid stress and to include more lard in my diet.

A couple days ago I was sitting alone in my office well after midnight, drinking and smoking and thinking about how the human heart was just a fleshy shell with a void inside it. I picked up the paper and read the funny pages and then my horoscope. It said to avoid straining because Cancer is creeping into Uranus. I shifted uncomfortably in my chair.

Then I noticed an envelope on the floor by the door. I must have left it there when I picked up the mail. I couldn’t read the postmark.

Inside the envelope was this drawing:




and a clump of coarse, curly hair.

Like from a buffalo's crotch.

Or a beard.

I sighed.

And I lit a cigarette.

THE END


Comments:
"Old Knudsen I had assumed perished in the fire, but a couple of years later I was real depressed one night and called up the Samaritans and there was his voice on the line. I’ve never been depressed since then."

Strange, that was how I met him....

And hey, never mind all that! What happened to me?!

Jeez, you could have left some seed out in the feeder, or something! You know, lifelong devotion to your feathered friend, a donation to the Audubon Society, etc. Humph!

Other than that, it was a great story, Footie.
 
Televangelism from a cell - seriously enterprising that is. I'd make a fortune doing that.

The beard, by the way, must have been a hoax. It couldn't have been from the real Barbudo who, if I remember back in the days of your alter-ego-accusations, used to write Footeater as one word, whereas in this picture there are clearly two. If I were you I'd investigate Justin Barker for impersonation.
 
FS: I thought it was obvious. As Sam PC Bride's elite tracking sparrow, you continued to serve her with the utmost professionalism until the end of your birdy lifespan.

If other readers feel their futures have been ignored in this epilogue, email me with your PayPal details and I'll set you straight.


Kim: yes, but El Barbudo also isn't a wall-eyed slobbering yokel from south of the Mason-Dixon line - he's worse, he lives in Belgium - so poetic licence is to be indulged here. Funny you should remember such a detail, though.

And Barker is dead. Read episode four for a reminder. Looking back, I should have put a stake through his evil heart. I might mention this when I do the director's cut version with audio commentary.
 
Samaria is For Lovers!
 
If you're ever depressed Mr Eater, you know you can just call me up and I'll tell you to go kill yourself, I may even help cos I'm a nice person.
 
SafeT: nope, sorry, didn't understand any of that.

Mr Knudsen: er, that's kind of what I implied you said to me. Keep up, you old bastard, and don't give me that 'I've got only one leg' shtick.
 
one of the best epilogs i've ever read.

and you can quote me on that.
 
this bit:

"...my Pussy was found entangled in the gorilla’s fur and returned to me. Wet, hairy and smelling of fish, she worked fine."

and this:

"... We exchange cards every time he topples the government of a small Latin American country."

really got me going.
 
I'll make you eat my wood en leg ya toff.
 
Superb! Really really velly gud indeed.
 
Good looking guy in the video - don't think much of his accent though...
 
God will smite you for that, Ayres.

Not the sentiment but the weird Welsh/Pakistani accent.
 
You mentioned Sumarians.
Kim's video hardly seems an act of contrition, nor does it seem to be much of a confession. I wonder if justice will ever be served.
 
"It couldn't have been from the real Barbudo who, if I remember back in the days of your alter-ego-accusations, used to write Footeater as one word, whereas in this picture there are clearly two"

your fooling nobody
 
I wrote a blog about you today,,,\

:--(((
 
I dont know who I am anymore or why I'm here. Musta been one hell of a blog post. Mr. Eater, when ole Knudsie says he'll kill you, the correct response is "so says your mam!" and then downing a pint together. only be sure to quaff it, so three quarters ends up on the bloke behind you, and then go find some whores. that always gets a laugh. what was I saying? I'm sure it doesnt matter. love your blog.
 
Jagd Kunst: I couldn't find anything on your blogs about this. The again, I suspect it was a way to get me to visit, you crafty bugger.

Taihae: I don't think he threatened to kill me, quite; he hasn't got the bollocks for it.
 
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