David had a little lamb.

David decided; it's time.

"Dear all, I've been waiting for the apt time, apt moment. The world has been waiting, rather. I am the one. I am part of the one. And as been with everything that's divine the part is as important as the whole. Keep me happy, the whole of us whole of ME stays happy."

And so started it. David wasn't omniscient; David wasn't charismatic. But David became omnipotent. And David was gay, he had his boys. They came to him, he had them, he had them all. None saw through him, but one. He loved him, that boy did.

“...and with my word, there was light. But know that the word the light the world is through me, me. Keep the part and thus the whole happier. With me it came; without me it will be gone."

The boy was jealous; he went up with a shovel. David though not omniscient sensed it in the boy. He pleaded, threatened and then resigned. Boy hit him till he was reduced to pulp.

And announced to the crowd: "David is dead, but the light still remains!"

Ventriloquist.

“It’s getting a little too much for me. They expect a man’s voice. I mean that too it when they are hearing it from their own mind. Bloody hell! They give you different names. Why can’t these people get a life? I mean why do they need God to answer our prayers.”

“Well, it is a booming industry isn’t it? We have a job because of it. They pray, we answer their prayers direct to their mind. A new wave call center.”

“Fuck! I know, the money is good. Answering prayers in a different voice and with a different name, to their minds. It gets on you. I am now a Hindu male God, my throat aches.”

“The story of my life. Let’s go.”

“Hell wait! I am smoking one more.”

Diaspora.

The sun, the sky and the occasional showers in the noon (which will help you cool off) - I was enjoying my time there. It was really good, but a rolling stone can’t be attached to any place. I am not a rolling stone, I don’t much roll in the conventional sense. But I don’t get attached to anything unless someone gets attached to me.

I don’t usually hate being forced to move, but this was different. Here I am one day enjoying my sweet time under the sun and suddenly I am being transported to nowhere. I was in some cold place, stuck and with no hope. Then I got used to the calmness; and as usual I started to adjust. I thought the worst was over, but I was wrong. Darkness, silence, blasting thunders and claustrophobia. For a long long time. Then I came out. Different place; different smell; different skies.

It took me a while to understand I was stuck in the heel of a shoe all this time. After all who am I to complain - I am just another rolling stone.

Dream-catcher.

"Because sometimes, most of the times knowing is not enough one has to know how to let others know; teach others. I know what I'm doing now might look crazy to most of you, but like I said it is more important that I do this more than ever because of that reason."

Then he can only vaguely remember what happened after that. The idea was to be tied to a bunch of balloons and then slide across the beach for probably half an hour or so and get the attention of the crowd and spread his message of love, faith and righteousness. But, they misjudged the number of balloons; he just started flying up up up. At first he thought this was how it alway started; that you will go up for a while and then slowly start to come down. But after a while he realised there was something really wrong. To add to his worries the breeze took him towards the ocean, further away from the land. He closed his eyes and started praying; he had faith. He knew everything would be fine soon.

Up there away from the land dangling from a bunch of balloons you loose track of time, it's absolutely normal. You start thinking aloud. You wish for something exciting.

Hunger will always be in the back of your mind; yes, you are hungry but it's the thirst that is what nags you all the time. But it’s only for a few more hours, someone will find him and he would be, there is always hope.

After a couple of days you are not really sure if you are more concerned about your thirst or hunger or tiredness. But you know you will give up anything to have someone to talk to. Needs of the soul are always more important that of the flesh. You need to go on; you can't give up. He didn't make you so that you could give up. You start to pray.

After a long while you loose everything - your faith, your hope, your conviction. You just wish to die and die soon.

*** A Brazilian priest tied himself to some hydrogen balloons in his quest to spread the message. He flew up. His decaying body was found floating in the ocean after a couple of weeks.

Shoot the messenger!

“...so I hereby declare myself the sovereign ruler and emperor of this part of land as I annex your kingdom. And as a part of the change in hierarchy, my friend, who is accompanying this messenger is to be appointed the chief on my behalf, with immediate effect.”

“So what do we do? If we acknowledge the message, this guy with him will become chief and the first thing he will do is to throw us in the prison.”

“Or throw us to the lions. Either case, we are done.”

“But then their army is going to take another couple of weeks or a month to reach here.”

“So what do you suggest?”

“Kill the messenger; kill that bastard.”

Love Hotel.

“Are you embarrassed by the fact that you need to come to a love hotel to talk to me?”

“Is that a trick question?”

“Yes, it is. But I need an answer, and I need the truth.”

“Yes, I am embarrassed - no, embarrassed is not the right word. I am terrified. It’s not safe. We can be compromised.”

“How can you say that? I am your wife. You took oath to protect me, to stand by me through thick and thin. To love me with all your heart till death do us part.”

“I do love you with all my heart. But how can a man who can’t defend himself defend anyone else?”

“Isn’t there something which you can do? I am sure we are not the only ones.”

“I don’t know. This is not the first military regime we are going through, but this one is different. Ever since this gay General took over life has been tough. And since all the marriages, one’s between a man and his woman, has  been negated, us meeting is like committing adultery - like prostitution.”

“But how long my dear, how long?”

“We have to hold on, for some more time. When was the last time any military regime ran for more than a year?”

“I'm afraid you all will turn gay in this heat.”

“No, not more than you turning lesbian, and if we’re done talking, I can prove that I am still the same.”

Memento Mori.

“It’s an abomination! This is not right.”

“But it’s important. See, we can’t always keep our mind on this earth thing. We have to let go at sometime.”

“But, the whole point of our idea of Valley of Sin or The land of love and insanity all those shite will go off the window. We can’t force them out, we can’t. Let them stay and enjoy till they want.”

“No, we have to put an escape clause. A closed one where we have the sole rights of control. Like the “Rights to entry reserved” thing in restaurants.”

“So you say, beings, after a certain point of time have to gracefully exit or we might evict them as some kind of persona non grata? Somehow I feel they are not going to like it at all.”

“Of course they are not going to like it, at least most of them are not. But it’s required, it is a basic design requirement. You have to flush the garbage.”

“Okay so the beings have to die. And, how long do you think its going to take us, you know to support the whole exercise - the warranty period?”

“A couple of million years?”

“Okay, that’s cool too.”

“But, that is, if we have the death clause. Otherwise we might to constantly support them ad infinitum. We might have to constantly replenish the resources - land, fuel - everything.”

“I agree, I agree. Go ahead, spell it.”

“Yeah, Let there be death.”

Serendipity.

I had almost reached the speed I thought I needed. I hit the side rail and was flying. I would hit through the shop window, that I was sure of. But, I felt something was wrong, I wasn’t really going fast enough to reach the escape velocity. I might fly through into the shop, crashing through the window, but I might not end up in that couch, like I had in my mind. The way I always pictured in my mind. I always wanted to crash through the bridge, into the second floor of the furniture shop and end up in that huge couch.

“Please, please tell me it was an accident. ‘Cause something tells me you planned it. What is it with you and fly-overs and bridges? Are you crazy?”

“Darling, it was an accident. Just before I hit the rails I somehow felt I wouldn't reach the escape-velocity I needed. So I shifted down to rev but I didn’t have enough ground to reach that speed. Yeah, you can call it an accident now, other wise it would have been simple serendipity.”

** Those who know the Jayadeva flyover in BTM, would be able to picture this a little bit more clearly. And for the record, I am not crazy, yet.

Soulless.

“What happens when we die?”

“Well do I look dead to you kid?”

“No, but I thought you were wise and old enough to tell.”

“I am old, older than anything you might have seen, but I am afraid I am not wise enough, son. They say different things, though.”

“What different things? What do you believe is going to happen when we die?”

“Some say we cease to exist, while some say we do not. Some say the next is dependent on what we do in this. And it goes so on.”

“What do you believe? What do most of them believe?”

“If you ask that I can tell you, though I must also add that it is for you to believe it, as you see it. Most of them believe, including me that, once we die here, we goto a different world where we are attached to a body. Where we have a shape. Where we are fragile. Where we have tiers. Where we have names. Where we can lie, but also we can choose not to. Where we are what we look like rather than what we are. Where we appear. Where we are soulless.”

Shadows.

"Have I seen you before?"

"Well darling, let's assume that you have indeed seen me (which I believe is bollocks in itself) but why would it matter either case?"

"No, I guess it looks like we are going to be intertwined for another hour or so. And I guess I thought."

"Thought what - please don't have any ideas, darling. And why can't these bloody humans turn off these lights at the very least. I could have gone somewhere and done some chores and come back."

"My Master always used to turn off the lights, you know."

"So you say it is my Mistress' fault, eh?"

"No, I wasn't actually saying that."

"Well, it can even be that your master has never seen such a woman as beautiful as my Mistress that he wanted to watch while doing it!"

"You have no idea what my Master is capable of!"

"Do I care? Only thing is that if the lights were turned off I could have been spared of the misery of being entwined with a slime like you. How much fire does your master have anyways? Will he be taking much longer?"

"Depends on how much time it takes to tire that hag of your mistress."

"Wish my Mistress could be a little bit more selective!"

War Trophies.

"Two thousand seven hundred and forty nine!"

"Cool! So that is a good catch."

"But then most of these silly morons don't wear gold anymore. Remember the last war, even though there were less ears, most of them were gold, pure gold! This time it's mostly scrap metal. Nickel and Steel and all scrap metal."

"We are doing good man, we are doing good. The UN and NATO and all around, and still we are doing really good."

"Yeah, but you never know, when they actually decide to get these bodies back home than dump them here."

"They won't! There is always too many dead overtime."

"And these women soldiers! No wonder they are soldiers! Not even a single piece of bloody jewelry on them. Men are better."

"Yeah, I hope this war continues."

"You know where better money is - the coffins! I have heard they make it with elmwood. That should be something."

"But it is a logistic nightmare. For now we should stick to ears and ear-rings. But that can be thought about, of course."

Euthanasia.

"Doctor, I am afraid of Death. I can't even sleep, I keep on thinking about and dreading Death."

"My dear friend, some day or the other we all die. Just try to enjoy life before you finally sleep forever."

"But, I can't. I am so so worried."

"See my friend, do you love sleeping?"

"I do and I miss it now a lot."

"Listen, think of Death as a long peaceful sleep. We all love a good night's sleep, don't we? Listen now, I am going to prescribe some sleeping pills for you. Take them and come and see me after a week. I'm sure you will be perfect."

"Doctor, I can't sleep now."

"Why? Maybe I can prescribe some stronger pills."

"No Doctor, I don't want to sleep. I am afraid of sleeping! You said Death is a long sleep, right? So what does that make sleep? It's a small Death! I am dying every night! I don't want to! Help me Doctor, help me!"

"Hmmmm…take these pills my friend. And embrace the most peaceful sleep you will ever have. May you find peace."

Comatose.

"Doctor, I need help."

"Yes son, I am here to help. Tell me what is the issue?"

"Doctor, I can't remember things."

"We all forget things son."

"No, it's not like that. Let me explain."

"Ok, I am listening."

"Yesterday night, I came home after work. Had dinner, couple of beers. Then I went to my room. Slept off. The next thing I remember is that I woke up after 8 hours. I don't remember anything in between."

"Oh! That is really bad."

"What's is even worse is that, when I thought back, this has been happening for a long long time. I can't even remember since when."

"Oh this is really worse. We need to do some tests, maybe even a surgery. Nurse, bring in the stretcher please."

Hallowed Be Thy Name!

"So you say, that people won't take people seriously unless they are dead?"

"Well not exactly, but almost."

"Every single second a person dies; maybe more than a person. So they are all going to be glorified? What are you smoking?"

"See, that's what I said not exactly but almost. You are an ok guy, good but not yet great. The crux is that, the greatness, the greatness comes only when you are glorified. Van Gogh was not big till he died. The same for Franz Kafka. Galileo, nobody cared what he did when he was alive."

"Hmmm! You are kind of making sense now."

"Same goes for that  John Doe."

"Which John Doe, I never heard of him."

"Exactly my point my friend, he is not dead yet."

"So, people even though they are great, will not be gratified, as you say, until they die."

"Yes, but mind you, all are not gratified. You know Fagin, the guy who was hanged?"

"Of course, he came over to my grave last eve to get some gin."

"Well, next time he comes, let me know, he owes me something."

Divide and Rule.

It is not easy being a perfectionist. You add subtract multiply and divide. Then you hit the divide by zero error. The more you try for specificity, the more you are enticed by the beauty of the generic. It takes on your head like an incurable plague of ideas waiting to be sat upon and hatched - then it won't hatch. I have been called a many things, but perfectionist is not one of them.

Maybe you are not a perfectionist?

See, that is not the point. And, it is not yet time for you to speak. These are rhetorics.

Okies, go on.

So, I think and find out a way out of this. But like I said before, it's like going around in circles. Then I come up with a great idea - suicide.

I believe you will tell me when it's time for me to make a comment.

Yes, I will tell you. So, suicide. It is a wonderful idea - ending it all, the cadence. You taking control of the composition, the time to put the curtains, so once I proclaim my stand to the people, once I made my point, amidst the applause, I shoot myself on the head. That would certainly make a grand scene. Even if I get them to believe me otherwise, it won't stand. But, with this it's going to be a cracker. They would have no other choice to follow me. They will be divided in their paths, but all the roads will lead to me.

Ideally, you would no longer be there to follow. So maybe you should think of a more subtle and realistic alternative.

It's already decided in my head, my friend. You wouldn't understand such a complex plot. Maybe that's why I am The President and you are someone who can never even dream to leave this room. And for a mirror, you are such a lousy reflection of myself.

Who will shave the barber?

"Now, that is a nice hair cut, thank you.", and then he shot the barber.

"Do you know Junior, do you know why I always shoot the barber?"

"I don't know Colonel, but maybe you don't want to pay his tab?"

"O you came from the shite, will remain so even in jazzy military uniform. Because, you can never ever monitor a barber. You keep someone all the day with him, still you won't know if he is whispering stuff while shaving the hair on the neck."

"Okies so we shoot the barber!"

"No that is not what I mean. You keep a tab on the people who come here often and keep a tab on them too. The town's barber with the NO POLITICS HERE! board is the first bastard we should take a look at."

"Well this guy didn't have one."

"He is - was the last remaining barber."

"But we already took over the town."

"Exactly my point."

Let there be light!

She was getting more and more irritated. From the time she remembers (and mind you, now that is a long long history) everyone, every single one of them called her a he. Now, wouldn't you be annoyed too? There were different theories at different places, cultures; but inevitably it all ends up being irrelevant. The books the poems the literature - every one writes and thinks in the wrong gender. And in the huge chunk of people who calls her - called her - he, there were some particles of groups, molecules who actually called her, she. But doesn't matter, she is irritated. When will they actually learn to identify her feminine truth. There is no God - there is only a Goddess. Him, the greatest one is a she. Godforsaken or rather Goddessforsaken people!!!

Recession.

"Hey you! How are you?"

"Hey, I am good, thank you and you?"

"Good - you did not come to the shop today, why?"

"O come on friend, there is nothing to do there. No one visits us. I would rather sit at home and fret than in that godforsaken place and between the flies."

"Come on don't loose heart my friend. The days of the splendid Magic Carpet, will return. Just going through a rough patch, aren't we? Don't loose heart, my friend!"

"My mate, we both know what you are saying is just sweet talk. Nobody needs a magic carpet now. They have fast planes, choppers, balloons and what more? I have heard that they can even control the climate inside those planes."

"Control the climate? Are you nuts! Only the God can control the climate. Someone gave you all these stupid ideas didn't they? And look at you, you have believed them totally, you stupid moron!"

"No my friend, what I am saying is true. My own brother told me. He even travelled in one. They have the same calm climate all over the time. They serve food. They play songs. They have wine and women."

"Well, no offense, but that brother of yours has always been a liar, a trouble maker. He stole my sister's necklace and left the town once right? If I were you, I wouldn't believe him."

"He is a trouble maker, that I agree. And I am still sorry for your sister's necklace. But hasn't he travelled far and wide? Hasn't he brought home silk that is not silk but better than silk? I trust him when I should trust him."

"Well you know what - I don't! And you better come to the shop tomorrow. Good day!"

"Good day to you too, my friend."

Colourblind.

"Is my Red your Red?"

"What do you mean?"

"As in the colour I see as Red, is it the same that you see as Red?"

"Of course boy, we both went to the same school, didn't we?"

"Well let me rephrase the question for you - the way I perceive Red, you know, with all Reddish things, is it the same way that you perceive it? I mean, it doesn't necessarily have to be just Red, the question holds true for Blue Green Yellow, for that matter any named colour under the sky."

"What the fuck are you talking now?"

"Well it is a question, isn't it? A simple fucking question."

"Well, yeah, it is a question. But, it doesn't make any sense now, does it?"

"Of course it does! I thought we being friends and all, I could ask. See maybe I see Red like you see Green. You see Green like I see Blue. But since we both been to the same school, where they showed as an Apple - a Red Red apple in the conventional sense and told us - Lads, this is Red. See this is what I meant."

"Of course we are friends and you can ask. But, are you out of your mind or something?"

"Now are you calling me mad? That is not really a nice thing to do, you know?"

"That's not what I really meant. But…"

"But what?…" 

Love at first sight.

"You and me go a long way back, don't we?"

"Yeah. And I still remember the day you came to live in this street. And the first time I came to say hello, you went bombastic. I still have the signs."

"Hmmm...You know - alone, young lady, new in the city and you were so intimidating then. But I did like you from the very first sight."

"You know Kitty, I think, we should have married then, you know?"

"Hey! Now you have gone senile, haven't you? But could have been nice though. Would have been the first of it's kind. Probably my kids with your kids?"

"That again could have been great, but I lived alone, will die alone."

"You have had a long adventurous life, you sly dog, there must be some kids somewhere, naughty naughty!"

"O come on, you! You know I tell you everything."

"But then - hey you know there's one which looks exactly like you? The one which always comes to this street with the fishmonger? The one with dark patch on left eye, that one Labrador mongrel. That always made me wonder, you know?"

"Well it's a truth that I had an affair with it's mom, but I did not knock her up. And you can't tie up every single litter with a Labrador descent and black patch on the eye to me, okay?"

Dum-di-da!

"I never liked breasts."

"Well, and I always doubted if you were gay", she snatched the joint from him and said, "These fashion professionals. Well that means one thing too, that I won't get that calendar even if I slept with you, right?"

"I didn't say I am gay or liked boys or anything. I just said I didn't like breasts; I like the cleavage."

"Duh! What does that suppose to mean? It is like saying you don't like beaches but you like waves?"

"See that is the point - the waves make the beach beautiful, don't they?"

"But waves are everywhere in the ocean, only on the beaches they are interesting. Looks stupid to me, your idea. So you are not gay, anyways. Now that's a relief."

"Pass the joint now, please? And stop it now, you two."

Dogma.

"Google is a religion and wikipedia is the God."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Religion is the path you take to reach the God, right?"

"For some, yeah."

"And the God is the destination for your prayer, right?"

"For some, yeah."

"See, that's it."

"That's what?"

"You reach wikipedia through google to find the answers for your prayers. Amen."

Gatorade.

She ran and ran and ran. And she didn't stop. Not yet.

Past the mountains and plains and plateaux and deserts and grasslands, she ran.

Her body was getting tired but her mind wasn't.

She ran through the cities and villages and towns.

Then she stopped near a small run down shop, rather abruptly for no reason.

And she suddenly felt tired - she was still clutching the bag in her hands.

"Give me something to drink", she told the old shopkeeper.

"What do you want my dear?"

"Give me something to drink."

"How long have you been running my dear?"

"Since 1978."

"Here, have this", he passed her a bottle of Gatorade.

"How much is it?"

"For a girl as lovely as you, it's free. What is your name, my dear?"

"Erendira."

Fagin.

"Now that would fetch you 100."

"Just 100? I waited and waited and waited for him to start thinking and then I got it."

"Well tell me darling, if you put a 10 quid in a jar and close it and then waited and waited and waited, would if become a 100? When I was young, it was only a penny for the thoughts. Thank the inflation that you are even getting this much."

"Sly, aren't you? As sly as sly can ever be."

Wait till I get my hands on his thoughts, that would certainly be worth more than a penny.

Bastard - Trying to steal my thoughts! But where will he sell them! Wherever he sells them eventually it will reach here.

Writer's Block.

"There are those days when you think you can't write anything. And then you believe that you will never be able to write anything anymore. So you start panicking. You start thinking of the advance you have taken from the publisher. You start thinking about the loans. Bankruptcy, your girl leaving you to go with your agent. You get eventually thrown out of your penthouse, I mean not literally, but. Then you start thinking of alternative careers. By the way, have you ever thought of having to take an alternative career? As in, haven't you ever been worried about not having any one to buy what you sell, or not having anything to sell?"

"Well, in my career, I never had any dearth of customers.", replied the bartender and mopped the bar the hundredth time.

"There are those days when you think you can't write anything. And then you believe that you will never be able to write anything anymore. So you start panicking. You start thinking of the advance you have taken from the publisher. You start thinking about the loans. Bankruptcy, your girl leaving you to go with your agent. You get eventually thrown out of your penthouse, I mean not literally, but. Then you start thinking of alternative careers. By the way, have you ever thought of having to take an alternative career? As in, haven't you ever been worried about not having any one to buy what you sell, or not having anything to sell?"

"Well, in my career darling, I never had any dearth of customers.", she replied while pulling up her stockings.

** Those were his last thoughts before he jumped out of his penthouse window. Well, actually penultimate thoughts, because while going down he was wondering if he had switched off the gas stove.

And then there were none.

"You can start either from the left or right but you definitely have to start from the bottom. All the one's in the bottom must be first knocked off and that too one by one."

"Why so?"

"Why? Are you questioning my technique, you bastard? You want to take his place? I have been torturing and interrogating people ever since the war began and my techniques are flawless."

"Sorry Colonel."

"They call me Colonel even though I am not military. I am an academician, a Doctor you can say. So you start from the bottom always. See like this. Well, if there is even a reason why we start from the bottom is that - No No keep on knocking the teeth, but don't start with the top row yet - See stop now. Look at him. Awful isn't it? That effect, that same effect won't come if you start with the top row. Take that mirror show it him. Give him some more pain killer. And ask him questions. He will answer. And once done, keep going with the top row. Tomorrow we will talk about the nails and fingers."

Wren and Martin.

Back in the high school our English teacher - Spain (yes that was his name) - was notorious amongst us. Please do not get me wrong here - he was an excellent teacher, his classes were never boring. But he was very strict, in so many things, he wanted us to speak only English, he was too arrogant for the liking of us teenagers. We secretly hated him, we wanted to do everything that could cause uneasiness to him. One of our seniors even vandalised the toilet and wrote vulgar comments about him.
I never used to go back to my school, but after a good 5 years or so I once went back. I met some of my teachers and then when I had already starting back, I saw Spain sir. He was climbing the stairs back to his office, I called out to him and he came hurrying down to meet me. He walked down the whole flight of stairs to see one of the most notorious and obnoxious kids in his class. I was so so moved. You wouldn't believe me if I told you the stuffs I had done to make his like uneasy for him. My father is a professor, even then it took me so long to understand how noble that profession is and how much love a teacher has in his heart for his students.

Into the path of light!

"Room number 320, please."

"Here, madam."

"Thank You"

"I dunno what is so special about room number 320. This lady has booked it for every alternate Thursdays."

"Since when?"

"Since time immemorial."

"Till when?"

"Till the end of..." 

"End of?"

"End of this register, as far as I can see."

"Okay richer the stranger; stranger the richer."

"I am here."

""

"I am here, I say."

""

"Well, Good night."

When you die you go to another world, and the place you die is the portal, the entry to the wormhole. And if you ever want to come back you can only come back through the same door.

"And Thursdays were always special for us."

Gregor Samsa.

It was night and it opened it's eyes - 

"What the fuck - what has happened to me. Oh my God what am I saying and I even understand what I am saying. I can't see anything - but it's already night.

What happened I can't get out of this crevice - damn I can even move the cupboard now. What am I supposed to be doing now - I am big and I would need more food. And what am I thinking,saying and I can even understand what I am thinking,saying.

Holy crap! This is too complex but I can register all of these. I am not a cockroach anymore - I am a bloody human?"

Then it/him went out naked - never knew anything about clothes - they put it/him in an asylum. Last time I checked it/he was still there.

** Well some of you who have read Metamorphosis by Kafka would have understood what I am trying to distort here.

Pelvic Thrust.

"Damn I hate Bollywood - why do they always have to make us go in circles. It was so good back in Russia."

"But you get more care and attention here - man I love it when they ogle at us"

"Hmmmm, that's true but it sure is hard work here."

"Yeah, and I had this stupid ding dong song all day."

"Mine was a nice slow one today but still it is paining from yesterday's thing."

"Diwali sure was hard work for us sister."

"So was Holi. O they have a lot of festivals here. But aren't we underpaid here? Can't just live on attention."

"Sure thing, I miss them unions. I sure miss USSR."

**Pelvis 7 speaking to Pelvis 23

Pack them well!

"Ladies, Gentlemen and Numbers - Please be seated and please be calm. This is a small announcement, not so important, but an announcement nevertheless. We the card-makers association of the world, have decided, that from the coming batch of playing cards, plastic and paper both, there will be a slight change in the order in which, the cards will be packed. From the next batch onwards, the order of packing will be Jack - King - Queen instead of Jack - Queen - King."

"Preposterous", the first one to reply was the Queen of Spades, the Black Maria. "You say that this is a small thing. I have been sleeping between the Jack and the Queen. Now, I the Queen of Spades, has to sleep next to the Ass of the Clubs. This is ridiculous."

"Well, Her Majesty, it is actually the Ace of Clubs, not Ass."

"Ass-arse-ace, does that really make a difference? There has been one or two occasions of faulty packs where I had to sleep with the Arse of the Clubs. Where is sleeping between the Jack and the King and where is sleeping with an Arse, that too of a different class?"

"And who will be sleeping next to me?", that was the Queen of Diamonds, the last in the order. 

"Depending on the region, HM, it could be the Card of Guarantee, or the Joker, or The Blank Card."

"In your dreams, the Joker? How dare? Or the card of guarantee? The Blank? How dare you?"

The numbers were getting uneasy and bored. And after all they were not affected at all by the change. The lucky ones were the Aces, they were getting to sleep next to (or with, depends on how you look) with the Queens of the neighboring realm, except the Ace of Spades of course. There were issues popping up here and there, but it was a done deal. 

"Let's get these pansies off the hall, there is another important announcement the chess makers have to make regarding the length of the cross on the King's head."

Scrabble.

"Well, that's how and why the God made porn."

"Hmmm…God made porn? God made men and women. And they can have sex. Grow up He-man, you are too old for porn now. Go get laid."

"No, see porn is not for kids. Scrabble is for kids, but porn, definitely not for kids. And FRUMMY is not even a word. So cut that out."

"Well, if FRUMM is a word, so is FRUMMY."

"Yet again my point, what is the oldest story you have heard - Of Adam and Eve doing it. See all naked all the time, apples, snakes et al. All props, all pornography if you ask me. No offense to any one lady, but that is so. Even Hindu Gods did it, do it - depending on how you look at it. So porn is divine."

"See the point is that watching porn is ok, or in your case, was ok. Don't you ever feel the need to get out and wanna be real. Like if you want the girls out of the tube?"

"Well, as a matter of fact I do. Most of the time, when I watch them after I smoke, you know, I want them out of the tube. It's funny you even knew that."

"No, you are not getting the point here. That's not what I meant. Forget it - Well what's the point? And GRAFFITIT is definitely not english."

Fly Me High!

"But darling fairies are only in the stories. No dear, you can't fly. Come on sweetie, now please get out of that costume, will you?"

"No! No! No! I am the little pink fairy. I even have a wand. You can't remove my wings. I have to fly."

"Oh! Please, dearie. Don't be so difficult."

"No! No! No! No! No!"

"Enough! That's enough tantrum! March to your room. I shall give you five minutes before I come there. And, I don't want to see any of those stupid wings again."

"I can fly; all fairies fly! I am going to fly high out of these windows."

Butterflies.

"Wow! How long since we last saw a butterfly. And now look at them come at such large numbers. Look, this one is huge and red and blue and what the hell. Mosquitos! Mosquitos! Alarm Alarm, We are under attack."

Underwear.

"Underwear! Underwear! Underwear! That's all he cares about. Every single day he comes in with yet another load of underwear. When I say underwear don't think of them as those sexy kinky lingerie. I mean all those fat bloody men's underwear, you know." the furious lady said. "So you don't ask him about this, I mean about this kind of underwear shopping spree? the man who can be a police detective asked. "Of course I do, but that didn't work the last 11 years, did it?" "And he wears them all?" asked his companion. "Well, I am not sure. I don't think so. But, I'm not sure, see I haven't seen him in his underwear." "You haven't seen huh?" "Well see we, we don't have sex; never had sex. See I'm a lesbian and he is gay. Our's was a marriage of convenience." Cut back to a flea market where we see a man searching for something. Cut back to an younger looking version of the same man, much younger. We see him being almost strangled by a Sadhu. And he whispers hoarsely in our man's ear -  "An underwear, only an underwear can save you. Make sure that you have it with you when you need it." Our man, our man needs proof and he demands it. The Sadhu gave it - he gave him the colour of the underwear he was wearing. And also the colours of the one's he had been wearing for the last one week. 

What's Up Doc?

The man in the television was saying, "Who said the bunnies were funny? I, for one thing, always hated them. If it was for me, I would have caught every single one of them and skinned them alive. If I didn't have to clean their innards, I would have roasted them alive and ..." The one with the red badge and an eyepatch flicked the television off. He turned around and said, "This is the one guy I was talking about. He goes around half the world talking about skinning us and roasting us alive. We have to find him and find him we will. You, my fellow bunnies, are my elite. Go find him for me."