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144-ahead

folsom was just coming in. jackson, in his studio recognised the slam and nipped the needle out of his arm. the patented l.s.d concoction*1 had had its usual side-effect of perceived self-mass reduction and he’d spent the last 20 mins trying to get ig I or II*2 to open the door, just open the fuckin door. folsom opened it. fuckin wino’s. jackson’s studio was really an unused corridor lined with cork (mostly sheet though wine stoppers filled the grooves and corners) effective, though the stench was gut turning and a lunatics voice from t.v looped incessantly whenever i was in here “oh, (slurp, mmm) now this one gives me a rancid vinegar kick with splashs from a syphilised skunk….”.
therapy? yeah attemting to crawl between my legs smacking his face into my knee. never fuckin learns. white splattered clogs. did it go well? quiet,we took out the cctv’s and no-one came by, sloppy but it’ll stick*3. so are you still up for it? sure, but first we eat. jackson stood and locked the studio to muffled sirens and grating metal then off towards the kitchen. hot bath methinks, this’ll take a while. two hoovers egyptian walked across the way as i started the food prep. a continued flow of profanity and clatter of collision percolated from the kitchen as gigantic props tackled j. and he leapt for draws and cupboards. i soaked the ceiling in and thought about victor*4. caught the top of the table again, must be growing…decide to walk round, and again for the knife. cream’d, sharp and suit’d up i reappeared to see how the adoy ramen was coming. it wasn’t, jackson was knelt under the table flashing light from a cleaver into his face. is today still good? certainly, definetly, its devils eye day, wouldn’t miss it. disarming him of the chopper, i’ll sort the food get your flights on*5, and any of that money left*6? meal abandoned i pillion’d folsom down to his scooter shop. how much?! bastards. it was just a wheel, well and an exhaust…not to effect the mission he tips the guy a cursed %age. a quick glance at the map*7 and guided by the worshipping dishes we make our way south. i let folsom ride flame and psych into the cyclop of his tail light. wearing our mazurka speaker-lined jackets we race a northern express. bastards, f1 scooters cutting a convoluted route compiled by the tipping of trucks by police agents*8. the sun was now setting as we neared beachy head. destination and arrival. first things first, j. pulled out his snakeskin travelcased perculator (circa ‘22) brewed up then poured the dense over snow. fueled. compass checks and folsom’s uncanny spatial awareness with me yelling left-abit’s & right-abit’s into swirls of flakes we zero in. big changes since v’s day getting closer to the edge all the time. here? here. jackson out with a stilleto and goodfellas away at the frozen surface. sun almost down and the halfmoon already in place and intensifying and looking like it’d been creditcard’d. behind us 2m crash into the sea. get on with it. hit tin and there it is a tin box with the v.h.s crest. inventory: a sav row emerald sharkskin zoot suit, a pair of church’s bookbinders, an engagement ring, a signed photo from when he was known as bruce lee, and finally a poison ring with a note attached ‘read me’. a warning pertaining to its contents strength and properties*9. his enamel crest again was on the lid of the ring. it sparkled. it shone. i know, i know. even as it happened jacksons hand was lashing out to control but the nervous reaction was beyond me. i opened it! it was opened and the contents swirled up and into folsam&jacksons subconsciously agog’d mouths. the empty ring fell. it click clacked as it hit the petrified ground. it dit-da’d into the hole, da-dit-daa. a code to which we reamed out the equivalent zero’s and one’s then competed with the beckoning lighthouse, entwining code and speeding up pressure grounds as the epicentere approached. malfunction.

*1 zenamide*tm butech labratories&sforzatrope product: administered intravenously to bemuse/horrify the h.i. virus into submission or self immolation.
*2 a couple of tortured furbies who’s only audio input was j’s noise craft. the idea being they’d be good for live gigs once a decent vocabulary of noise had been developed. intended first appearance during the solar eclipse and their millennium act will not be impeded by blackout.
*3 9/9/99 n. mandela bust redressed to represent a black&white minstrel, southbank, london (unrelated to bomb attacks)
*4 victor herbert step, our uncle died 21/8/99. v. created an antidote for the markov ‘a’ virus. well really he coerced addiction to vacuum atmospheres which would eventually result in implosion of said atmosphere (leaving rather shocked terminal users), self interest though: he was using an overlooked megaframe to number crunch for some upcoming project and as the m.a. threatened to dissolve 4yrs worth he took action and groomed its behaviour. this counter-effect spread wide enough to be noticed, next thing a mysterious job interview came up where he was plied with tea&biscuits. soon afterwards he contracted a rare disease only ever seen before in young women and never in aging males. proof or responsibility has never been qualified. note:annoyingly this date is usually remembered for the plane carnage which included the 777 that thought it was over india but actually k2 became its final resting place. 235 souls lost and the dalai lama.)
*5 style of boot designed in collaboration with b.l. for optimum take-off (see datacide3) their mainfeature being the mahogany soles for magnified vibrational access with added feature of singed address/signatureprint.
*6 jackson’s £.s.d windfall achieved from his expose of the white suits at totp’s child kidnapping and porno ring
*7 the v.h.s legacy, not sure whether its loot, plans to his revolving house or plans for of another chemical structure
*8 a conspiracy unveiled by the jackal: road carnage orchestrated to give the police credible presence and qualify their numbers
*9 originally devised as a truth serum variant to be used on whales due to mi5 suspicions that they were infact aliens, here to use the ocean as an omnicomputer (a theory disqualified by sforzatrope research which suggests initial emigration was achieved by octopods), sideeffects of the drug included disorientation and chronic depression.

rev. butech

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