Ritualistic slaughters and farewell bonfires were never this messy. Not during the times of medieval teeth nor those of Neanderthal sideburns. Leaving imagination to the fires, a splinter group of disillusioned terrorists and theatre restaurant hosts found themselves biting the hands which feed them during the stormy nights dark and hairy.
Gathering in the middle of a fairground, recently vacated by elephants bucketing chickens of miced volvos, the two cells intersected and proceeded to square off. Each side were freshly cast from their respective teats and looking for some foul bred compensation.
Heading long into the battle, the combatants were neck and chicken neck stealing one member for each in a bloody form of human chess. Or checkers, as some were hopping from severed legs and partially sliced feet.
Hours later they would emerge, none as triumphant as expected, both depleted as their numbers were counted and given to the nearby statistician. Death was on hand and the waste done with. Forming a reluctant alliance they are now thinking about selling gravy substitutes direct to stores and restaurants in an effort to recoup some of their financial losses.
Written on Thursday, 5 August 2004