Fright or Frong (15) - Smooth


Fifteen - Smooth

“Be wary of the glib my friends
Their smiles may just shove you into a lavonic hell.”
                                                                  gs batty

"Call for ... the Macho Man"

Smooth was a friend
I met long ago
his raspy voice enticed me

 a status monger
selling iconic dreams of
inselbergs in a marmalade sunset

I walked among
 his dreamlike wispy clouds
thinking I was  sui generis

never knowing that smooth
wasn't a friend
but a raft drifting on an eclectic tide

 and I was like a rodeo clown
being tossed around in
a broken creosotic barrel

heading for a thundering fall
into a sea of cascading horrors
where I could not suck air

smooth gripped me by my throat
sucked my will away
a demon not smooth but evil and black

the marmalade sunset turned
into a tornado of volcanic ash
filling my lungs with lavonic terror

gasping for breath
I ripped the tendrils from his clutching fingers
he had wrapped around my throat

and ran from his black bubonic cloud
of ugly carcinogenic carnage
and cleansed my body of those iconic dreams of inselbergs
                                                                                              
                                                                    gs batty/June 2013





Returning to our story…the chapter we have all been hoping for and praying for…

….the final chapter…the one that smoothly strides off into the sunset…

Why?..Simple…I do not want my characters to turn sixteen and become belligerent and "now-it-all jerks" like I was at sixteen and it has to end some place….


….Upon our return…Khan has left the tomb and his pacing.

Approaching our hero, he offers a simple trade.

"I would like to trade your human mind back for my animal mind."

Cassandra asked, "Can he keep those beautiful electric blue eyes?"

"I only want my evil, wicked, mean and nasty mind returned to its rightful place in my brain."

"Don't do it," Spillane said. "He will use that power to conquer heaven and hell. He will control everyone's eternal destiny."

"I have to do it," our hero replied. "I can't think about anything but those damned Skorts that Cassandra is wearing. I don't even know what color her eyes are."

"Yes, yes, yes," Hammer said with glee. "Make the trade for the glory of Khan. With his rightful mind, he and I shall rule all of eternity."

Our hero looked to Andrea for her approval.

"Make the trade," she said.

"But, what if he does become the ruler of eternity?  If Khan controls eternal life we will all become eternal slaves."

"Khan's plan will not work," Andrea promised.

"It will work. It is a simple plan and simple plans always work," Khan sneered.

"Your logic is flawed but I will let you find that out the hard way," Andrea smiled.

"I will not argue with a woman. You will find out how terrible the mighty Khan can be when I get my mind back."

Khan sneered at our hero. "Well Mr. Hero, what do say? Is it a deal? You get your woosy mind and the electric blue eyes and I get my powerful magnetic animal mind.  But wait! If you make the trade in the next five minutes, I'll also throw in the Skorts."

Our hero could not resist. He did not care if Khan ruled the eternal universe of heaven and hell as long as he got those Skorts. He had even forgotten why he wanted them but the thought of having them as his very own caused a chill to move across his spine.

"It's a deal."

"You can't give away my Skorts," Cassandra said

"When my power is returned I will do what I please."

"Relax," Andrea said. "Let them make the deal. It will be better for everyone."

They moved inside the tomb to the "Altar of the Minds".  As Andrea, Cassandra and the supporting cast of spirits looked on, each man placed the undesired part of their minds on the Altar and the trade was completed.

They left the tomb and Khan puffed up like a desert Gila monster.

"The great Khan has returned. I am master of all. I can now claim my kingdom."

Hammer held up his hand and said, "Hey, what about me? What about our plan to kneel and grovel and pretend to repent."

Khan dismissed him with a grunt and said, "The great Khan kneels and grovels to no one. I will find my own way and when I do, they will all pay with their eternal souls."

He walked back into the tomb and slammed the door behind him and instantly the tomb was returned to the marble mausoleum that it once had been.

Hammer was crushed and turned to Spillane but said nothing. Spillane put his arm around him and they walked across the cemetery in deep conversation.

Our hero, somehow feeling that he had won, was puffed up like a horny toad with no place to go. However, his electric blue eyes were no longer glued to Cassandra's Skorts. They were locked directly on her "I got you now" green eyes.

He lightly took her hand and said, "My name is Birdsaul, William Birdsaul Have we met before?"

"Yes, but I will have to explain it to you," Cassandra said.

They walked away shoulder to shoulder into the sunset and of course for some reason he couldn't keep from hooking his thumb in the back of those lovely Skorts.

Andrea and Magic Al watched as the new lovers strolled across the spirits of the past.

"But, What about Khan," Magic Al asked? "Will he get into heaven?

"No, he is no different than he was when he stole our friends mind. He is just back to where he started from. He could not get in before and won't be able to get in now. I'm afraid the great Khan is doomed to forever roam in the space of the damned.

////////

next week…new prompt…only  "The Shadow" knows where that will take us..


thank you Mrsupole…you are a very classy lady…

the story was a bumpy ride driven  by weekly prompts from "Theme Thursday"


This series of prompts and stories also planted the seed to begin with  a personal thought about the prompt word and then a poem and finally an explanation about the poem.

The poem..."Call for...the Macho Man" is a tirade against cigarette company's smooth talking sales pitches and a take off from the old TV commercial "Call for Phillip Morris" and the Marlboro Commercials. I smoked for 25 years but I am one of the lucky ones. I am still alive. 


7 comments:

  1. If only the world had known not to listen to those ads! Glad to know you were able to kick the habit!

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    1. Unfortunately, they are still there and the young still think it's sexy to smoke.
      thanks for the visit and the comment

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  2. Great stuff Grizz, wonderful use of language!

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    1. thanks ss...appreciate your visit and your comment

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  3. Very cool and intense imagery in the poem. I was never a very heavy smoker, but I started at a fairly young age (14) and quit approximately thirty years later.

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  4. I like how you tied the poem into the story but also how it was an advert against smoking.

    My mom smoked for over 60 years and in the end it was took her away from us last year. We tell people we grew up in a cloud and that we did not have knickknacks in our house because every spot was taken with an ashtray.

    My hubby struggled with quitting and seems to have stopped for good this last time. He went from cigarettes to cigars to pipes. Each time it was hard to quit but easy to find something new.

    I also like how you ended with the Skorts being part of the ending. Love those Skorts. And the Khan not taking over the eternal life is a good thing.

    It was a great run while you ran. Thanks for sharing it with us each week with Theme Thursday. I hope you have a week filled with dreams of Skorts. Okay I mean classy Skort dreams for a classy man.

    God bless.

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  5. I loved this story Grizz is was so fantastic, the skorts you have no idea haha

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