Button’s Big Boo

Boo!

Yes, it’s that time of year again. The ghouls and witches and all other manner of beasties are coming out of hibernation to ensure that humanity becomes increasingly perverted by fear and frivolity. They want nothing more than to have a vulgar party on cemetery grounds and to stuff poor, helpless mortal faces with sweets and other freebies. How shocking!

The situation has gotten so bad that even Button is getting himself into trouble. Oh, wait, he’s always getting into trouble so, no change there then. In this video, in his own adorable way, Button discourses on Wilde, Hitler, Hanukkah and… erm, a certain unmentionable medical procedure. (You have been warned!)

We hope you’ll enjoy our silly little whim, and wish you a happy and spooky Halloween!

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2017

Teti-à-Tête (With Tony) #8

crumble-cult-210

Tati as TATI

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Tony as TONY

ACT 11 SCENE 7
MONEY BURNING A HOLE IN MY POCKET

Tati is reading an advertising booklet.

TATI: (calling out) Is $22 worth much in today’s economy?

TONY: (from another room) I have no idea. Depends on which economy!

TATI: (to herself) We should drink away our first income.

TONY: I heard that! And, no, we shouldn’t!

Tony enters the room, a disapproving look on his face. Tati holds up the booklet for him to see.

TATI: Look. Hennessy VS 0.5l, Gift Pack for $22!

TONY: NO! What the hell is wrong with you? Are you some kinda lush?

Tati pouts, then her face lights up as something else comes to mind.

TATI : We should spend it on something nice like… HATS! We can buy hats for doves in the park.

Tony does a massive facepalm.

TATI: (a little less convincingly) For the sake of their heads… So the sun doesn’t cook them?

TONY: Jesus. What is the difference between drinking away this money and buying headwear for birds?

Tati pouts again.

TONY: (ruefully) Well, I guess the birds would benefit more than your liver…

TATI: Fine. What do you reckon we should do with the first income from our Patreon page?

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Hey, Dear Readers, would you like to read more? Would you like to know how wisely Tati and Tony disposed of their $22? Then why not pop on over here? We’d love for you to see the hard work we’ve done on our new Patreon page. There’s no entrance fee, we promise!

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2017

Eugene (P.S.)

Hullo, dearest Writers and Readers,

It’s Tati. (Yeah, I’m still here and can speak too. Shocking news, isn’t it?)

Usually I prefer to stay backstage at Unbolt Me, hiding in my cozy, dark corner and letting Tony shine onstage to bask in the warmness of your love. But please, don’t think I’m indifferent to what happens here. I do care.

You can be sure that every day I open WP Admin with bated breath and fingers crossed. I bite my nails, in a state, wondering if you’ll love our newest post or hate it. I read every single comment. Do you still read and support us? Do you still want us here?

Well… Honestly, when I was writing Eugene I didn’t expect such great feedback. I thought it was just another story, just the next post on Unbolt Me. I was wrong.

Let me wholeheartedly thank all of you for every like, comment, and reblog. I felt your emotions and was truly moved by your sincere concern. That’s why I decided to write this post. I thought it would be churlish of me to keep you in the dark about this story. I decided to lift the curtain over Eugene and answer some of the questions that were brought up in the comments section.

Okay, so here we are…

Q: What I want to say to you I’m not sure you’d take well so I’m not saying it.

A: Hmmm… Why not, Crystal? Please, don’t hold it inside. I promise not to bite you.

Q: Great story, true, or not, or ‘based on’…

A: Dear Alli, this is a real story. I adorned it with some artistic details, but you can be sure that all characters and events are entirely true.

Q: You can’t leave us hanging like that! Did you meet him again?

A: Yes, Tanushka. I saw Eugene a couple of times after this. Once I saw how he walks. It really drags at the heartstrings. He’s so stripped to the bone, so weak. I doubt he can even stand without his crutches, not to mention walk.

Q: Did you ever speak to the man again?

A: Unfortunately no, Cher. I wanted to stop, but something prevented me every time. In the last few weeks Eugene hasn’t been sitting in his usual place—I think because it’s getting colder. I hope to meet him again.

Q: I hope Eugene keeps doing his embroidery for a long time.

A: Dear Kat and Ellie, I sincerely hope he will! He has a splendid talent.

Q: I’m sure Eugene is an inspiration for many people.

A: Katharine, I’m with you on this. At the very least, he inspired me to write this story. And it looks like it has inspired many people who have read this story. It makes me so happy!

Q: Maybe Eugene is a supernatural geezer as well.

A: I can bet, Artie, that he is!

P.S. The photo of Eugene in the original post was my own. I was a bit too shy to take it openly, even after we’d had a conversation. I stepped aside, pretended to look for something in my phone, and took some sneaky shots like a coward. Sorry, Eugene.

by TETIANA ALEKSINA
© All rights reserved 2017

TATI’S TRANSLATIONS // Night Ward by Sudeep Sen

The night ward’s blue curtains that surround me drip colour and deceit—each and every pleated flute of cloth hiding some half-truths like the half-lives of atoms. Only here, the arithmetic surety of fission does not wish to match the nuclear chemistry of my blood’s transfusion.

The night nurse peeps in to assure me that blue is not all black, that red is not grey, that the colour of my skin does not reflect the colour of my life. I wish I could agree with her consolations.

Yards of white and blue linen that wrap my slow generous chill, know the real secret of my floating corpuscles—the flotsam larvae, their ancient silk that gently threads my nearly finished mummy.

Синие шторы ночной палаты, окружающие меня, сочатся цветом и обманом. Каждая плиссированная складка ткани скрывает полуправду – частицу правды, пережившую период полураспада, как атом. Полученный арифметический результат этого деления упрямо не вписывается в химическую формулу переливания моей крови.

Ночная сиделка заглядывает в палату. Она уверяет меня, что этот синий не совсем черный, этот красный – вовсе не серый, и что цвет моей кожи совсем не такой, как цвет моей жизни. Мне хочется верить ее словам.

Километры белого и синего льна укутывают мой вечный озноб, постигая сокровенную тайну дрейфующих лейкоцитов; их мертвые личинки прошивают меня насквозь невесомыми шелковыми нитями, превращая в настоящую мумию.

Poem by SUDEEP SEN
Translation by TETIANA ALEKSINA

© All rights reserved 2017

Wingardium Furiosa!

It’s often said that beginning is the hardest part. We’d thought about this idea for so long that we had begun to wonder if it would work at all. Still, you never know what can be achieved until you try, so we’ve decided to make an announcement…

We’ve made our very own Patreon page!

Yes, we’re still a bit shy about asking for money outright, hence the intro full of funny drawings and inconsequential waffle. And while it’s fair to say that we put a lot of effort into all we do, when it comes to self-promotion we feel like dolts.

You see, we haven’t devised a motto where we blubber and scream and guilt you into supporting us, nor have we made any tempting promises about the outcome if you do. No, we just can’t seem to get that part right.

Anyway, we won’t repeat what we wrote for our Patreon intro here. Why not pop on over and read it at your leisure instead? We promise, Dear Reader, that it’ll be worth your while. Well… it should be fun at least.

Come, fly with us!

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2017