Gesundheit the Marrow
The day after she had massacred (almost) her entire Family with a psychopathic onion soup,not to mention their party guests,Marjorie Misnomer was entertaining a visitor of her own in her attic room.She was sat cross-legged on the black velvet chaise longue with bone handrests…Gesundheit The Marrow was sitting next to her,telling their guest all about the previous day’s events.
“You should have seen ’em,old boy…12 heads dissolved into nothing…it even ate the skulls…” Here he broke off,glancing at Marjorie who looked suddenly downcast “…which was a shame really,you know how much Marjorie likes to add to her collection.It took both of us and the rhubarb to wrestle it back into it’s bucket.”
“Umm…er….y-yes.” stammered the guest,who’s name was Martin Limp.
Martin Limp was Marjorie’s friend…in the same sense that a fly is a spider’s “friend”.They had known each other for almost two months,which is in itself remarkable,given the nature of Marjorie’s “hobbies.” It is also remakable that he was still in possession of his vital organs,if not his complete sanity.Marjorie liked to play with Martin,just as a cat likes to play with a mouse before it eats it.He was dressed in his best yellow suit and puce bow-tie,because,even though he knew that Marjorie was madder than a teapot full of Thursdays,his mother always told him to dress smartly when visiting people.
He was currently sitting on The Seat Of Pain,which Marjorie kept for her “special” guests,and was,quite frankly,in a state of extreme terror,his bowels on the verge of jumping ship.He also had a very sore bottom.He looked furtively up from his cup of Hate Tea,searching for an exit,only to meet the eldritch eyes of Marjorie-deep as Hell,black as never.She shushed Gesundheit who was describing the fun he and Marjorie had had cleaning up and disposing of the bodies.The word “mop” had been mentioned more than once,and a plunger had been employed.
She kebabed Martin with her unwavering gaze.
“So Martin…”she asked happily,stroking Gesundheit’s green skin.He purred,knowing that the fun was about to start again.
Martin’s lower lip quivered. His bowels threw in the towel and relaxed noisily.
“…what shall we do today?”
She smiled that smile of hers and looked down at Gesundheit,who,it is said,was also smiling.
—————————————————————————————————————————————————
It was a sunny day in St.Mary’s-Of-The-Cream-Bun-Up-The-Jam as Sheila Lemony-Marchbanks,post-mistress,cake-maker and avid cross-stitcher heard a knock upon her frontally-positioned door.Looking up from the cake she was making,her thirteenth of the day,she made her way to the aforementioned port of egress and,upon opening it,was,as one would have every right to expect,rather surprised to discover the trembling Martin Limp holding a basket of various fruit and vegetables in front of him as if it might go off.
“Well if it isn’t young Master Limp,” she gushed “and what’s this you’ve brought me ?”
“It’s a g-g-gift….f-f-f-from the B-B-B-Big House…” he babbled,quivering and setting the apples and oranges and other produce jostling against each other.Luckily,Sheila,being a little hard of hearing ever since that accident with last year’s Christmas Radio Times,didn’t hear one of the apples whisper to a satsuma-
“Look fatty if you don’t move over I am so going to bloody own you-” only to get the rather terse reply…”oh yeah,come and have a go if you think you’re hard enough,you green bas-”
“The Family is giving one to all the houses in the v-v-village.” Martin continued,ignoring the light chuckle which seemed to emanate from somewhere in the bushy vicinity of Ms.Marchbanks’ privet hedge.”To celebrate the election of Nem-Nem-Nemesis Misnomer as MP for the village.” Martin almost choked the words out as he remembered Marjorie proudly showing him the remains of her father,all dissolved and headless and icky,which she had planted in the vegetable patch for the cabbages to nibble on.
Martin suspected that a by-election may soon be called.
“Oh that’s lovely” exclaimed Sheila,who was,by nature,a trusting sort,”come in,come in I’ll make you a lovely cup of tea and we can have a slice of carrot cake.”
She turned to re-enter her house,and Martin followed,holding his breath as he heard one of the carrots in the basket snap “Murderous old bat…that could be me old mum in that cake.” He pretended not to hear the rustle of leaves and the running of swift feet behind him.
“Be sure to close the door after you,Martin” Sheila called from the depths of her kitchen.”We don’t want just anybody walking in do we? You never know who’s about.”
Martin Limp…Limp by name,Limp by nature…had no need to close the front door,as he heard it softly close behind him,under what he knew in the pit of his stomach to be the dreadful impulse of the black-fingernailed hand of Marjorie Misnomer.
“This is going to rule.” said Gesundheit The Marrow.
—————————————————————————————————————————————————
“Look,” huffed Marjorie as she kissed a grape and stuffed it up Sheila Lemony-Marchbanks’ nose.The grape whistled a jaunty tune which may or may not have been “‘Bohemian Rhapsody.” “If you struggle you’ll just make it worse.”
Ms.Marchbanks,sadly,was in no position to offer an opinion as to the veracity of this statement,as she had a banana wedged in her mouth.It’s rear end was wiggling suggestively…slowly,almost imperceptibly,it was sliding in deeper.
The banana was making “mmm” noises.Marjorie made an “ooh” sound at this.She was enjoying herself,so was Gesundheit from his perch on top of the fridge.He was thumbing through Ms.Marchbanks’ weekly copy of The People’s Friend…insofar as a large green vegetable can be said to “thumb.” She readied another grape,gently squeezing it in her black-lace gloved hand.The grape grinned at her…she grinned back then showed it to Martin,who had taken to gibbering in the corner of the kitchen,muttering to himself and rocking forthly and back.She tutted,and slipped the grape into place up Sheila’s left nostril.
“Martin.”
He twitched in fear at the sound of his name,verbalised as it was through the Hell-touched vocal-cords of Marjorie Misnomer.
“Martin dear,do try to get the merest semblance of a grip and help the cucumbers out of the basket…I’ve got just the place for them.” she cackled,patting Ms.Marchbanks on the shoulder,who was rapidly losing consciousness,and indeed life,which was probably for the best,since Marjorie Misnomer’s madness knew no boundaries.
Martin Limp shambled to the basket,looking in with dread….there were things going on in there that had no place on God’s Earth.The rhubarb was looking very excited.He lifted out the cucumbers…they thanked him and slid towards the end of the table where the hapless Ms.Marchbanks sat chained to her chair,fruit & veg protruding from (almost) every orifice.
He’d had enough…he took advantage of Marjorie’s distracted attention and bolted for the door.Martin could see the front door literally a few feet away…he heard no voice of protest behind him…in the name of all that’s holy,he’d made it…he made to grab the knob…only to find it turning of its own accord.
The portal swung open….
….to reveal the most horrific sight of Martin’s soon-to-be-short life.
“Martin…I hope you’re not-” said one half of a set of badly-conjoined “twins.”
“-leaving us so soon.” said the other half.
And so it was that Martin Limp came face-to-faces with the only other other surviving members of Marjorie’s Family–her conjoined “twin” sisters,Kismet and Ketamine Misnomer.
And he knew that his nightmare was only just beginning….
Next part-We Are Family
TROPICAL MOMENTS 