MMORPB // Tati & Tony in Raiders of the Lost Snark Part Five (Moderately Multiplayer Online Role Playing Book 18+)

or: EPISODE 5 // Where Tati Grabs Tony’s Shirt

 

In our previous episode, Tati and Tony apprehended and interrogated a mysterious man in black who tried to steal one of Tony’s suitcases. However, the man in black was not about to cooperate…

“Okay!” crowed Tati. “Now we’re getting somewhere!”

Tony was concerned at how forcefully she was shaking the man in black. He wondered if he should intervene.

“Um…” he began carefully. “I think maybe…”

Tati looked at Tony, raising her eyebrows in challenge. They began a furious discussion with their eyes. Obviously, Tony wanted to help the man in black to a hotel, offer him bed and breakfast, but Tati wanted to systematically torture and break the man. They managed to convey all of this to one another without any words at all.

But destiny, as always, had other plans. A huge meteorite for example.

When Tati and Tony finally concluded their silent (yet no less heated for it) argument, they looked back to the mysterious man in black. Or, to be more precise, to the place where he’d been some moments ago. There was now a smouldering crater with a humungous orb glowing an angry orange in the centre.

Tati dropped the two seared scraps of fabric that remained of the man in black’s shirt. Tony just fell on his arse. They were both in shock.

“What the ever loving…” Tony didn’t have it in him to complete that statement, so he let it trail off.

Tati shook her head, scratched her moustache, gave a defiant grunt then grabbed Tony by the scruff of his shirt. “Get up.” Her tone indicated that he’d better do what she said, or else. He got up.

“That was my favourite suitcase too.”

Turning away from the crater, Tati counted the rest of Tony’s suitcases. “How many bloody suitcases have you got, Luigi?”

“My name’s not Luigi!” Tony bristled. “And I don’t need to justify what I bring on our trips to you!”

But Tati wasn’t listening. “Three? Okey-dokey. It looks like all of them are here. Let’s go to the hotel!”

Tony gestured helplessly at the crater. “Well, minus one.” He was sure that one of the suitcases had gotten disintegrated along with the mysterious man in black. “But I guess you’re right.” He gestured at the ones that remained. “There are three others here.”

“Hey!”

Tony winced. How had he pissed her off this time? “What now?” he moaned.

Tati pointed. “Does this one have a slightly different hue, or am I dreaming?”

Now Tony wasn’t even sure of his real name. He squinted at the offending suitcase. “I don’t know. Yes? Maybe? Or we’re in a group hallucination.”

“No.” Tati gave her moustache another thoughtful scratch. “I think all of them are similar.”

“Sure,” sighed Tony. “Whatever floats your boat.”

He just wanted to get away from the crater. The police and emergency services were beginning to arrive. Names would be taken and questions would be asked. He didn’t have the mental wherewithal to cope with that.

 

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

 

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2018

THE CRUMBCAST // Atheism and Other Religions

This is the Crumbcast where I introduce myself as Tiny instead of Tony. Freudian slip or just a slip of the tongue? You be the judge.

So, anyway, it’s Pete and I having a good ol’ chinwag again, and this time the subject is religion and atheism. We reckon that these can sometimes be the same thing. Now, there may be those of you don’t like what we say regarding this, but we hope you’ll stick around and join in on the conversation in the comments section below.

PS: To listen to the podcast in question then please click on that picture down there. To view the comic strip that our discussion centres around, then please click here. Yes, it’s real magic in the digital world, I tells ya! No pesky sciencey stuff here!

 

by TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2018

BUT IS IT POETRY? // a Pissed off Muse

Do you think
that your Muse is dead?
Balderdash!
She is tired.
She is just flat on her ass.
Yes! Dash it all, yes!

She couldn’t bear
your endless snivel,
hysterics,
binge drinking
You, pathetic Creator!
She dumped you, dumbass!

Two talented lines
aren’t worth two wasted years… yes.
Muses can fuck up.

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TONY: Tati, have you ever been pissed off?

Tati doesn’t answer. She keeps looking to the door.

TONY: Tati?

Still no answer.

TONY: TATI!

TATI: Huh? Yes, of course. Every time you ask a silly question.

TONY: Hey! All of my questions are individual quests for truth! Don’t be dissin’ my questions, man!

TATI: I’m not a man.

TONY: Anyway, there’s this really cool poem you wrote once. It’s called ‘a Pissed off Muse’. Do you remember it?

Tati looks at the wall clock, then says with a petulant gesture…

TATI: Yes, I do. I’m not such a leaky head. Not like someone I could mention in this room…

TONY: Hey! I only forget the stuff that’s not worth remembering!

TATI: Uh hum… Indeed, why should you stuff your head with nonsense like the due date for our tax returns, or when to pay for municipal services?

TONY: Look, I don’t mind living without electricity sometimes, and since when have we ever earned enough to pay taxes?

TATI: Well, this time I’m going to agree with you.

Tati keeps flitting her eyes between the clock and the door, then glances out the window.

TATI: So, do you really think it’s a cool poem?

TONY: I do! I think it’s bitchin’!

TATI: Uh hum… Well… Thank you, I suppose. May I ask why you recalled it just out of the blue?

TONY: Well, it strikes me that no one ever asks the muse if they even want to be a muse in the first place, and your poem seems to reflect this. It presents the muse’s viewpoint.

This seems to get Tati’s attention. She looks at Tony for a moment.

TATI: Yes. By the way, Tony, did you know that ‘muse’ can mean not only a source of inspiration but a creator or poet also?

TONY: Oh. Really? That… That doesn’t sound quite right…

TATI: Why?

TONY: Because muses are usually only presented as some kind of insipidly romanticised ‘source of inspiration’ (to use your words). But the whole thing’s not so romantic really, is it?

Tati’s eyes have gone back to the door.

TATI: Sigh. Never mind. Do you have a muse?

TONY: Nope. Why reduce someone to nothing more than a source of inspiration for my creative endeavours? They don’t exist purely to orbit and nurture my every brain fart, do they?

TATI: Not everyone is such an egoist, Tony! ‘Nurture my every fart.’ Many creators take their muses as higher beings, not mere servants of their creative labours.

TONY: I’m not so convinced! I can’t shake the feeling that a lot of muses are mere extensions of their creators’ egos, and therefore not considered to be the higher beings you sugge—Hey! Are you listening at all? I said ‘my every brain fart’, not ‘my every fart’!

TATI: No. I don’t sleep.

TONY: Huh?!

Tati shakes her head, as if to clear it, then continues to give the door, clock and window her full attention.

TONY: See?! You’re not listening!

TATI: Not at all. Pardon? Oh, of course, you have my undivided attention.

TONY: Are you sure? I’ve been talking to your nape for the last bleedin’ hour!

Tati sighs.

TATI: I only wonder if we can talk about something else…

TONY: Okay. Fine. What would you prefer?

There’s a knocking at the door.

TATI: Wait! Do you hear that?

TONY: You bet your sweet bippy. I wonder who it can be?

Tati starts to fuss around a bit. She goes to a cupboard and pulls out some slippers, then runs to the kitchen to brew some tea. When this is done, she brings out a huge pile of fresh newspapers and tosses them on the table.

TATI: Okay, could you get the door, Tony? I think that may be for me.

Tony answers the door. A huge, glistening penguin wearing a monocle and biting down on a pipe enters the house, brushing past him like he’s not there. It waddles towards the kitchen, its pipe leaving a trail of soap bubbles.

TONY: Oh, of course. Now I understand who serves whom, my Dear Genius.

TATI: Hush! Don’t piss off the Muse!

 

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2018

hushabye (black & blue)

every man a cocksure monster
every tongue a flattering lie
so let my absence fill your room

now that i am required to leave
will you speak inside my fizzy head
one last time
set the record straight
and i’ll turn my eyes to the skyline
say, “that’s the door”

every cock a father figure
every dalliance is the one
so let my absence fill your heart

now that i’m being made to leave
will you smack alive my 8-ball head
one last time
let my answer be no
and i’ll turn my eyes to the skyline
say, “that’s the door”

every oke a cocksucking ogre
every tryst yet another nail
so let my absence fill your coffin

hushabye radge, i see a door
you’ll not grieve me any more

 

by TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2018