Archive for the ‘Sara Genge’ Category
Ain’t No Cure For Love
Wednesday, May 23rd, 2007
2145 AC
The Earl of Knutterbury got out of the time machine that the weird stranger had given him and entered the building with “Health.Inc” written in large neon letters over the portico. As soon as he wasn’t looking, the machine imploded silently and disappeared.
“I’ve got the disease of love,” he told the receptionist. The Earl was embarrassed to talk about such matters in front of a woman, even though her cleavage indicated that she wasn’t a lady.
“Ain’t no cure for that,” the girl laughed.
“I meant Venus’s disease.” The Earl saw the confused look in her face. “Syphilis!,” he shouted and blushed.
#
“Tertiary syphilis? Are you sure?,” the CEO of Health.Inc asked.
“Absolutely sir. There’s also some brain damage, which penicillin won’t reverse. Should we give him complete neuro-regenerative treatment?”
The CEO looked at his aide as if the man had lost his mind.
“Of course! The publicity is well worth the cost. Imagine, a nineteenth century gentleman, come to get treatment from Health.Inc. Besides, we have the contract to consider…” The contract stated that Health.Inc had to treat every human and household pet within the confines of the European Union. In exchange, they had been awarded the succulent biological arms contracts.
“Sir, please reconsider, what if more of these health tourists come? We can’t treat everyone!”
“Stop angsting. There won’t be any others. Random space-time anomaly, wasn’t that what the physics called it?”
“But his time-machine?”
“Doesn’t exist. Did anyone see him walking out of any time-machine? Where is it? Show it to me! Son, he has neurological damage, he’s probably seeing little green men.”
#
2434 AC
“Brilliant! What a trick, drowning them in medical refugees so they had to divert their funds from biological weapons. How the hell did you think of it?,” Brillo asked.
Aro leaned back in the semi-sentient chair and listened to it purr. Brillo was an idiot, but still, it was nice to be adored.
“It wasn’t so difficult. Come on, if you want, you can help me with the next intervention. Which century do you want, twentieth, or twenty-first? It’s up to you.”
Dear Diary II
Tuesday, May 8th, 2007
Dear Diary
Today I caught a little god and put it in a jar before it can become a big god and hurt little people.
Mom says I’m a brave girl for ridding all those worlds of their gods. She also says to be careful but I don’t see what’s so dangerous about the little gods.
Mom wants to take my jars of little gods to the swindler’s market to sell, but I hide them from her and feed them scraps of magic. Sometimes I steal souls for them from Aunt Rue’s cookie jar. The gods grow and grow until their faces are smash up against the glass of their tiny jars and then they grow until their spines are all twisted and then they keep growing until they die.
I have 117 jars, so there are 117 godless worlds.
Today I dropped a dead god into a little world. The little people scurried around like ants, trying to grab pieces of the dead god. They fought for the toes and for the Word and for the Book and they carried away the chunks of godmeat and killed anyone who came close. I felt bad and tried to tell them it was only a stupid dead god but they didn’t listen to me. If Mom finds out she’s gonna kill me. I hid that world where she won’t look.
Sue said she’ll teach me to hunt angels. Angels make good earrings. If you’re careful and don’t kill them when you grab ’em, they keep wriggling their little wings when they’re hung from your ears and last like forever.
Dear Diary: please forgive me for not writing more, but I’m running off to hunt angels with Sue.