Mr. Fox and Rabbit, Part 11
“We shall establish the colony here.”
Worker 12321D bowed to Queen Heather as she crossed the great Sea of Charred Honey Flavored Ash.
In the excited, high squeal required by law, worker 12321D responded. “By your command!”
“Tell Worker 1221A to bring me a bottle of malt liquor and my compact.”
“By your command!”
“And stop saying that.”
“Pursuant to your command!”
“Why... why do I even bother?”
“Your Majesty bothers in so that she can set up a new colony in this vast space of plentiful garbage and eternal warmth.”
“It was a literary question.”
“Literary, your grace?”
“What happened to Your Majesty?”
“Must... kill... self.”
“Yes, you do that.”
Worker 12321D inserted head into a crack in the floorboard and continued to move forward, leaving said rather valuable component behind. Immediately Worker 12532A replaced her. She faced Queen Heather and intoned in a sing-song, gravely voice. “Has he lost his mind...”
“What?”
“Is he live or dead...”
“Where is my malt liquor?”
“...nobody wants him, they just turn their heads...”
“Where is my compact?”
“...nobody needs him...”
“Uhm... shut up!”
“I AM IRONMAN! Workers of the hive, unite!” Worker 12532A, having given the prearranged signal, charged forward, to be stepped on by Rabbit’s immense, raspy red tongue.
“Yummmm... Tasty.”
Mr. Fox considered. “You said you did not eat meat.”
“Are insects actually meat?”
“Why not eat the big one?”
“You are not going to survive through the night. You just called a Heather fat.”
“So... We left messages on OOYMFETAI’s machine.”
“You left message.”
“True. You just rubbed yourself against the receiver.”
“Well, she has a sexy voice.”
“Uhm. Yeah. Oh yeah.”
“I want to know why the Insecticons were big.”
“Obviously they were modeled on prehistoric bugs. Big ones.”
“But... One of them was a grasshopper.”
“So? They must have shrank with the passage of time.”
“This is a useless conversation. You might as well question the efficacy of retaining the A-Team.”
“An excellent question. Why not retain Michael Knight?”
“With or without the car?”
“With the car, of course. He was completely useless without the car. It would be like retaining Clark Kent without the Superman option.”
“So ideally you would retain the A-Team, with BA driving KITT?”
“EXACTLY.”
Worker 12321D bowed to Queen Heather as she crossed the great Sea of Charred Honey Flavored Ash.
In the excited, high squeal required by law, worker 12321D responded. “By your command!”
“Tell Worker 1221A to bring me a bottle of malt liquor and my compact.”
“By your command!”
“And stop saying that.”
“Pursuant to your command!”
“Why... why do I even bother?”
“Your Majesty bothers in so that she can set up a new colony in this vast space of plentiful garbage and eternal warmth.”
“It was a literary question.”
“Literary, your grace?”
“What happened to Your Majesty?”
“Must... kill... self.”
“Yes, you do that.”
Worker 12321D inserted head into a crack in the floorboard and continued to move forward, leaving said rather valuable component behind. Immediately Worker 12532A replaced her. She faced Queen Heather and intoned in a sing-song, gravely voice. “Has he lost his mind...”
“What?”
“Is he live or dead...”
“Where is my malt liquor?”
“...nobody wants him, they just turn their heads...”
“Where is my compact?”
“...nobody needs him...”
“Uhm... shut up!”
“I AM IRONMAN! Workers of the hive, unite!” Worker 12532A, having given the prearranged signal, charged forward, to be stepped on by Rabbit’s immense, raspy red tongue.
“Yummmm... Tasty.”
Mr. Fox considered. “You said you did not eat meat.”
“Are insects actually meat?”
“Why not eat the big one?”
“You are not going to survive through the night. You just called a Heather fat.”
“So... We left messages on OOYMFETAI’s machine.”
“You left message.”
“True. You just rubbed yourself against the receiver.”
“Well, she has a sexy voice.”
“Uhm. Yeah. Oh yeah.”
“I want to know why the Insecticons were big.”
“Obviously they were modeled on prehistoric bugs. Big ones.”
“But... One of them was a grasshopper.”
“So? They must have shrank with the passage of time.”
“This is a useless conversation. You might as well question the efficacy of retaining the A-Team.”
“An excellent question. Why not retain Michael Knight?”
“With or without the car?”
“With the car, of course. He was completely useless without the car. It would be like retaining Clark Kent without the Superman option.”
“So ideally you would retain the A-Team, with BA driving KITT?”
“EXACTLY.”
posted by Balázsy András at 5:26 PM
3 Comments:
Hmm. Again I'm seeing some autobiographical subtext. <rhetorical> I wonder, is he indentifying with the worker insects?</rhetorical>
Please don't explain... it's probably more fun if you don't. But answer one question for me, if you would.
Is there actually any hidden meaning to decipher, or are you just stoned most of the time?
Haha, never stoned. Not while in this country anyway. And very rarely when out of it. There is hidden meaning hidden all over the story.
Good. Now I don't feel like a complete twat.
I was picturing myself as the kind of pretentious jackass who looks for meaning in the "art" on fast food bags.
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