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Terminal Two: Sixth Episode - What The Deuce?
Two Blade was beguiled by detrivores, calling them 'little gods' and praising their 'natural rhythm'. He gawped at a million species of stinkbug as they charged like locomotives across the ceiling and walls, snapping their bullwhip antennae and scimitar mandibles. Strange golden serpentine things squidged from cracks in the brickwork then wriggled and inched down to the scum-cuffed sewage-line, where they snorted up bellyfuls of grey-brown liquid crap through greedy dilated nostrils. Every so often, a bobbing turd hinged at the centre to reveal a fuchsia maw knifey with incisors; a bootlace-thin tongue would shoot out, throttle a bright slurry-snake then snatch it from the wall to crunch and splurt in the canny predator's camouflaged gob.
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- 1114 reads
Fifth Episode - Meet The Jackpot Twins
'Who the Jenkins are-' 'The Jackpot Twins,' and they bowed again, more deeply this time. 'We're dual princes of the Garbage District ' Maranaloka in its most honest form. Truth's like the sun ' regard it directly and it'll burn your eyeballs out, so it will.' 'And what are the masks in aid of?' I asked. 'Hygiene?' 'Aesthetics,' the Jackpots simpered. 'Heesh heesh. It's all, all pointless aesthetics ' of no consequence whatsoever! Disguised? Subterfuge is irrelevant as a spaniel cannon, so it is.'
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- 990 reads
Pillow Talk
She is going into space. Her suit hangs in the corner beneath her helmet, a shrivelled golem; it is waiting to eat her.
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- 1089 reads
Brown Sauce
You do not do You do not do, any more, brown goo Slathered on tatters of pig You fall in fruity, faecal glugs Like dysentery mixed with shampoo
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- 1131 reads
Lull
We are waiting for the other shoe to drop. A first salvo dust and a silence a vertiginous concave silence.
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- 1127 reads