Anvil in a Lace Bootie

Scoopy, the Broken Neanderthal

Scoopy could not even begin to fathom the pain. To do so, he would have had to rent an extra fathomer. One minute, he’s darting in for a thrust at the woolly mammoth’s vulnerable underbelly, the next he’s laid out flat on the ground. The collision between swiftly rising woolly mammoth knee and darting low Neanderthal browridge was a whack cracking stunner. In comparison, a heavy blow to the groin would have been blessed relief. Such was Scoopy’s dim thought, floating beneath the crashing agony. Thankfully, the mammoth stomped, and Scoopy was released from his Loire Valley bed of pain.

“What’s playing? “Gone with the Sound of Jaws Meeting Star Wars in a Close Encounter of the Third Kind with Batman on the Titanic.”

TUMBLING CARS EXPLODING

WRITER:        We open with tumbling cars exploding along a highway in the desert at dawn. The girl is running across the dunes. The helicopter chasing her explodes and tumbles to crash behind her. The music …

HONCHO:      This isn’t a musical, is it? No musicals. I hate musicals. Musicals suck. How many explosions you got? Get back to the explosions.

WRITER:        Right. Well, there’s when the girl tapes the giant diamond to the tracks. The train comes roaring along, hits the diamond, and is thrown tumbling through the air exploding. That’s a good one.

HONCHO:      What else?

WRITER:        I have this swerving armored car gun battle that ends with all five of them tumbling off the cliff exploding into the river. The girl steps to the edge of the road and throws herself off to hang by a root when the small plane tumbles crashing into the road and exploding on the very spot where she was just standing.

HONCHO:      Nice touch. What else?

WRITER:        We have the unfinished freeway topple with eight busses tumbling and exploding. The girl saves herself by jumping from the motorcycle before it tumbles and explodes on the pile of busses.

HONCHO:      What else?

WRITER:        I’m really excited about the ending. The girl is walking along by this stream through this little green forest and she comes to a clearing where she spots this cottage. And for the first time in the whole picture she smiles. Then out of nowhere here comes this car tumbling and exploding right in front of her before it freezes midair. The end.

HONCHO:      Not bad. Look. Bottom line. How many cars and whatnot do you have tumbling exploding in the script?

WRITER:        Let’s see … busses, cars, helicopters, planes, tanks, ocean liners … ballpark figure, 65.

HONCHO:      Can you make it 100?

WRITER:        I can make it 125!

HONCHO:      Back off, captain. I asked for 100. Let’s try to keep it real.

WRITER:        100. No problem. Perfect. Deal?

HONCHO:      Deal.

ear pick – a device often of precious metal for removing wax or foreign bodies from the ear

“Oh, Jeeves.”

“Sir?”

“Would you mind being so awfully good as to fetch my solid gold ear pick, the one with the ruby fleck inset? It seems Monsieur DuBois has somehow become lodged in my ear.”

“Indeed, sir. Very good, sir.”

medical student medical student medical student

debris

nurse patient nurse

surgeon

anesthesiologist debris coke machine

bucket of buffalo wings  tapped keg  debris wiffle ball medical student passed out on floor

waiting room

worried relatives

A recipe rarely read through all the way to the end

Goat Bread with Hooves

3 goats

1/2 cup salt

10 lbs barley flour

chives (optional)

Dice three goats to a fine paste, first removing and setting aside hooves.

(A neat middle class living room. Spoon lazes in easy chair, engrossed in magazine. Dish sits on couch, knitting. Lamps, tables, bookcase, etc. Painting of ‘Cow over Moon’ above fireplace.)

Dish (dreamy, sets knitting on lap): Remember when we ran away?

Spoon: Hmm?

Dish: I said, Remember when we ran away?

Spoon (looking at her over half-specs): Yes. What about it?

Dish: It was so romantic.

Spoon (returning to magazine): I suppose it was.

Dish: Is that all you have to say? Why have you changed? I haven’t changed. I would still run away. You wouldn’t. You’d rather dig olives from cans or scoop up pablum!

Spoon (puts magazine down. turns to face Dish): Now what brings this on all of a sudden. I know! You were out with saucer today, weren’t you?

Dish: What if I was?

Spoon: Well, that explains everything. I suppose she went on and on about how romantic cup is, never at peace unless he’s sitting on her. Isn’t that right? (Dish nods, too overcome to speak. Spoon crosses to couch, catches up Dish in embrace, and turns with her to face the painting above the fireplace) It was after midnight. That crazy cat was a fiddling fool. We danced in the moonlight. I’d never seen anything more beautiful than you. Still haven’t. That stupid dog was laughing like a hyena. The cow jumped, and I looked into your eyes. Yes, my darling, I looked into your eyes like this, and you captured me forever, captured me forever in love.

Curtain

“…and I’ll tell you another thing that was better in days of yore…”

The Angular Sock

While the other socks were gossiping in the hamper, the angular sock eased under a pillowcase and brooded.  No one liked her, not even her partner.  The angular sock listened while her partner jibbered to the others about the angular sock’s shortcomings. Her stripe was flawed.  Her toe had that awful angle.  On and on.  How Hetty, their mistress, had flung the angular sock against the wall before flouncing from the room.

“They’ll be sorry,” muttered the angular sock.

For you see, she was planning her escape.  All through the thrilling swim and dizzying spin in the washer, she kept silent while the other socks laughed and frolicked, playing tumble games with the underwear.  When the mounds were lifted giggling and deposited in the dryer, the angular sock remained alert and sober, waiting for her chance.  Metallic click, hum and roll, comforting heat.  The angular sock leapt with hope to the barely discernable slot at the back of the turning cylinder.  She hooked on, hanging, and struggled to squeeze through.  SUCCESS!

Blue skies!  Rolling meadows!  Romping socks!  She was there!  And they welcomed her!  Everyone of ‘em!  Ripped, threadbare, with holes or whole, they welcomed her!  And she joined the romp!

Moral: Follow your dreams even if you are angular.

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Broadway Possibility

Hello Dali – the heart elongating, twisting and dripping story of a surrealist painter