Wednesday, January 18, 2006

"Look there, up in the sky!" says the first mate. "'Tis a pie - the mariner's sign a good luck." In fact it's the rare speckled woodbeaked pie, prized by conservationists and gluttons alike. Mad Captain Clusky shoots it. Mad Captain Clusky is no friend to pie. He spends all his waking hours sailing through the bakeries and pastry aisles of the world, harpooning key limes and lemon meringues and chocolate cream alike. Some say a pie stole his leg years ago an it drove him insane with revenge. Some say he sold his soul to the devil-pie and now he must sail the bakeries of the world till the end a time lookin for the one that could set im free. Some say he's just some old crazy guy who harpoons pies. He wears the crusts of his greatest quarries in loops around his neck. They tend to attract flocks of seagulls which he is powerless to fend off.

In a plush office overlooking a smog-shrouded city sits R. Robert Ruthlington III, oppressor of pie. He's spent the last twenty years buildin up an empire of international pie conglomerates an cheap low-wage pie sweatshops just to enjoy the suffering of the world's poorest pies. Once a day R. Robert Ruthlington himself comes to visit his biggest, cruellest, lowest-wage factory to revel in the fruits of his own exploitation. "Dance, pies, dance!" he says. The pies are generally unresponsive. Pie productivity in general is pretty embarrassing and has left the company in dire sttaits. In three years Ruthlington Amalgamated Pie And Tubing will declare bankruptcy and the once-proud Ruthlington family estate will be siezed by creditors and sold to a reclusive former child star as a home for his prize emu, but R. Robert Ruthlington III doesn't care. He'll still be rich - rich with the suffering of innocent pie.

Onion Jim McFillcot is sittin on his park bench thinkin bout pie. "Don't care for them fancy-pants pies," says Onion Jim. "Back in my day all we had was onions! You know where you stand with an onion, yes sir." He takes a deep bite out of a juicy green leek an throws some onion scraps to the pigeons. Some of the pigeons pretend not to notice, some of em start to slowly back away. Later Onion Jim will explain to a depressed lamppost why today's kids are spoiled by penicillin. "Usedta be a man hadda outwit your rheumatic fever an your syphilis - just you, your disease, an some games a chance!" he says. "Where's the challenge now?" Somehow the world has left its Onion Jims behind.


posted by fafnir at 5:07 PM



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