Yay google is my queen aided me to find this great site!
— obrkybmiy
Don’t try to pull a fast one on us, obrkybmiy. We weren’t born yesterday! We happen to know that ‘aid’ means to pay tax to a queen. Well, you can just go back and tell your Queen Google that we haven’t sold enough of our books yet to be able to pay taxes to her digital majesty! Feh!
— Tati & Tony (Desperate Seekers of a Skilled Tax Consultant)
by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2020
In our previous episode, Tati and Tony discussed the state-of-the-art hamster porno industry, and proved that no one should buy super secret weapons from James Bond’s personal arsenal in a pedestrian subway in Uryupinsk.
“Please, don’t be a drama queen” growled Tati. “Or I will drop you.”
Suddenly, Tony stopped short. His eyes were as wide as hubcaps, then he began to gasp like a fish in a glass of tequila. He was clearly trying to speak, but couldn’t, mouthing the words instead. In fact, he was trying to draw Tati’s attention to something that was right next to them. Tati raised her eyes from his face to whatever had suddenly blocked the sun.
“What… what the holy, blue, actual huge fuck?!”
And that’s when the whale swallowed them. That’s right. A whale in the sky. A sky whale. It had flippers and it was flying.
Tati and Tony tumbled down the whale’s windpipe for what seemed like forever. There were lots of wet plops and bounces all the way down, until their moustaches and hats disappeared and they were coated with thick layers of saliva. They finally came to a stop in a giant chamber full of a bubbly liquid that was caustic to the touch. Tati clambered up a fleshy protrusion, dragging a hapless Tony with her.
“Shit.” Tati looked down at herself. Her clothes had completely disintegrated and dropped right off of her. She looked at Tony. Him too.
“I am ashamed!” squeaked Tony, immediately hiding his very tiny manhood behind one hand. The other hand was covering his face.
“Well, at least the umbrella’s still okay,” sighed Tati. She didn’t feel the need to comfort her friend in his time of emotional need. There were more pressing concerns.
Suddenly, Tony dropped his hand to reveal a faraway look on his face. “Adam and Eve,” he whispered. “We’re like… you know, Adam and Eve!”
Tati looked at him as if he was a complete, Old Testament bedlamite. She snorted derisively.
“Well… I may not be a Bible maniac,” she said, “but I do believe the ‘Jonah’ analogy is more appropriate here.”
Tony pouted. Obviously, in his wacky mind they’d already been through the Fall, and were ready to provide the whale’s innards with future generations of sticky, mutant inhabitants.
“Fine,” muttered Tony. “Then let’s get the hell out of here!”
“I couldn’t agree more,” said Tati, cocking her head to one side. She was studying the umbrella with renewed interest.
Tony noticed this. “What?”
“This umbrella has a special function. I just don’t know if it’s safe to activate it inside the belly of a flying whale.”
“What does it do?”
Tati glanced at her pathetic friend, then realised something awful. He was bald. The bubbly liquid stuff had eaten away Tony’s beautiful long hair. And his eyebrows. And, presumably, his pubes? In fact, there was not a single jot of hair left on his entire body!
“Why are you patting your head?”
Tati ignored his question, alarmed that she no longer had hair either. Nowhere, actually. She had hair nowhere. What the freaking fuck…
“Well, it looks like I no longer care if it’s safe to activate the special umbrella inside a whale.”
And before Tony could protest, Tati pressed a button on the handle. The umbrella flared wider than before. Sparks flew from its tip and canvas edges, sending what looked like streams of fireworks into the walls of the whale’s insides and gloop. Then everything around them grew brighter and brighter…
Catch other episodes in this series:
THE PILOT // Where Tati Makes Tony Blush
EPISODE 2 // Where Tati Makes Tony Choke
EPISODE 3 // Where Tati Gives Tony a Fungus Face
EPISODE 4 // Where Tati Rescues Tony’s Suitcase
EPISODE 5 // Where Tati Grabs Tony’s Shirt
EPISODE 6 // Where Tati Supercalifragilisticexpialidociouses Tony to New Heights
EPISODE 7 // Where Tati Cocks the Hamster and Tony Watches
by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2020
You who know what easeful arms
Silence winds about the dead,
Or what far-swept music charms
Hearts that were earth-wearied;
You who know – if aught be known
In that everlasting Hush
Where the life-born years are strewn,
Where the eyeless ages rush, –
Tell me, is it conscious rest
Heals the whilom hurt of life?
Or is Nirvana undistressed
E’en by memory of strife?
by THOMAS RUNCIMAN (1841-1909)
Public Domain Poetry
Our Dearest Readers,
We have an important question for you. It’s so important that we must lean close and ask it in hushed tones. You’d best lean in too, lest you miss it! Ready?
BOO!
Okay, are you scared now? Yes? Now you know how we felt. We were so scared when we saw how many amazing submissions there were for the previous instalment of Open-Source Poetry! How on earth were we going to pick just one to add to this new lyrical masterpiece? It wasn’t going to be easy.
So, after a great many incantations over blood-soaked prayer beads ripped from the entrails of a satanically depressed gerbil, we eventually settled on Munira Ezzi’s sparkling contribution. Well… we’re kidding, of course. How could we rely on silly bloody incantations? Only a coin toss would do. (Although we do find it rather strange that the results matched.) Anyway, her lines felt like such a logical progression from what had gone before, so we ended up agreeing with the aforementioned incantations and coin toss outcome. How could we not use her contribution?
Now, if you would like us to agonise over your contributions for the next part of this poem in a similar fashion, we suggest you pay attention to the following rules:
1) Read the current version of this communal poetic effort below, and marvel at how scarily good it is (or is that goodily scary?). Then submit your own line or two for our consideration.
2) If we like your line (or two) the best, we’ll add it to the poem, then we’ll publish said result in a follow-up post.
3) Then you keep submitting frightening wordage aplenty in an attempt to chill us to the bone some more!
4) And so the whole process of submission and rejection is repeated until we finally have a horrifying new masterpiece!
PS: For those who may still be recovering from their New Years hangover, we remind them of the topic to the poem… It’s in the style of a good ol’ horror movie!
hm, what should I draw?
maybe a hairy monster with a furry claw
or a demon crow that sticks in the craw
or a huge bloodstained saw
hm, what should I write?
maybe a slow growl will stir up a fright
or a girl will be twirled by a meat-eating kite
or grandma pole-dances in a bikini too tight
by TETIANA ALEKSINA, TONY SINGLE, TOMAS MANKUS & MUNIRA EZZI
© All rights reserved 2020
TATI: It looks like you’re obsessed with Gorgons, Tony.
TONY: Only insofar as they’re fun to draw. Especially this one!
TATI: Yes, I saw you had a lot of fun with this. Is this a man or a woman, by the way?
TONY: A woman. Stheno was the oldest of the three Gorgon sisters. She was immortal too.
TATI: Hmmm… so, it’s not a bunch of penises here…
TONY: Nope. Just a bunch of pubic snakes that would be very unfriendly to one if it ever got close.
TATI: Now it’s getting interesting, Tony! So, do you have a theory about Gorgon physiology? Every hair is a snake? Not only the hair on their heads?
TONY: Exactly. Everywhere there would usually be hair, are snakes instead. So, it stands to reason they wouldn’t have any form of hair removal. No Brazilian wax for Stheno!
TATI: I had hoped for this answer, Tony. Now I’m going to have fun!
TONY: That sounds… ominous.
TATI: Hee hee hee…
TONY: Now you’re scaring me.
TATI: Question number one. Her brows. Where are the snakes?
TONY: Oh, she plucked them.
TATI: Plucked? But plucking doesn’t get rid of all the hair. It only makes the brow a different shape, or thinner. There would still be snake heads there.
TONY: Okay, then Gorgons don’t have eyebrows.
TATI: But I see them on your drawing!
TONY: Oh, shit. Erm… Those are cosmetic tattoos!
TATI: And what about the lack of armpit hair?
TONY: Laser hair removal!
TATI: But moments ago you said something about no Brazilian wax for Stheno!
TONY: Next question!
TATI: Hm. Okay. Your wish is my command. What kind of black liquid is that dripping around her feet?
TONY: That’s blood from a… well, penis. It got too close. Can you see it lying there in the middle?
TATI: Oh, so this blob is a penis? I was sure it was her reflection in the water. Or a part of her left leg. I dunno.
TONY: Nope. It’s a penis. A willy. Man’s bouncy ball buddy. A one-eyed wonder weasel. Hitler’s salute. A salty pube kebab.
TATI: Okay, you can stop phallomorphologising, Tony. I got it. It’s a penis.
TONY: Well, I didn’t want there to be any ambiguity.
TATI: Where’s the head?
TONY: Erm. What?
TATI: The head, Tony! The man’s head! His noggin. Pate. Bean. Dome.
TONY: Oh! I thought you were still referring to the penis!
TATI: Sigh. It’s plain to see where your thinking centre is located. I’m referring to the upper part of the human body that (usually) contains the brain.
TONY: Are you saying that there should be a man’s severed head at Stheno’s feet?
TATI: Of course! Let’s speak sense, shall we?
TONY: Well, I could have put one there, but I felt that a severed penis would be a more powerful statement of her independence and ferocity.
TATI: But a man approaches Stheno with an obvious intent to copulate. (I don’t comment on his taste though. They say never speak ill of the dead.)
TONY: Perhaps he was attracted to thickset women with unmanageable hair? I don’t know!
TATI: Obviously, his head was equally as close and important a target as his penis. Agreed?
TONY: Well, yeah! What’s your point? Are you saying I should have drawn a severed head instead of a severed penis?
TATI: No. I’m just trying to be logical. At the same time Stheno’s lower serpentry was busy with his penis, her higher serpentry would have been busy with his head. But, for some strange reason, the snakes on her head look clean and pretty relaxed. Do they have a different attitude toward men?
TONY: Maybe her ‘higher serpentry’ was tied up in a neat little bun at the time? I don’t bloody know! I just drew the damn thing. I didn’t think too much about the logic of it all!
TATI: It’s evident that you didn’t think at all, Mr Artist. Let me tell you how it should loo—
TONY: Oh. Fucking goody.
TATI: The serpents on her head should be dripping with blood also, and the man’s severed head should be laying somewhere around.
TONY: Somewhere around, huh? What if it’s just out of shot? Did you think of that? Huh? Did ya?!
TATI: Of course! Her posture, actually, can point to the possibility that she has just kicked the head off his shoulders—like a soccer ball—and her happy expression can mean that she scored a goal.
TONY: See? I didn’t need to draw a man’s severed head after all. There’s a perfectly legitimate story behind its absence.
TATI: Well, I’ve just explained it, Tony. What would you do without me? Those angry art critics would tear you apart with their tricky questions!
TONY: Really though? It’s not like they’re even paying any attention.
TATI: Yes, they are! And we need to invent an explanation of why the snakes on Stheno’s head are clean. Only then will I allow you to post this picture on your Instagram.
TONY: Oh, I’m sorry, your highness. I didn’t realise I needed your permission!
by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2019
unbolt me 