Sleek and Wild

Monday Massacres: Juicy Fruit

This long lost stuff is brought to you by:

We saw pain the blogcks was putting this guy through. So we stepped in and saved him from that whore. She’s sleeping with every one in blogville. Whore. And so the year finally kicks off, here, on the wild side. Good reading. Also, drink our stuff. It unlocks packets of energy you never thought you had. Yes, you Carsozy.

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Lil Sleek always had his eyes on some juicy stuff in the neighbor’s compound. No, it wasn’t a girl. Let me point out that Lil Sleek actually had his eye on many girls. So many girls, he needed more eyes. But this isn’t about them. That juicy stuff in the neighbor’s compound was a guava tree. Lil Sleek had never seen any fruit that had made an impression on anyone like those guavas…that guava tree stood firm, and could be seen for a radius of 1 km. That or Lil Sleek’s sense of measurement was warped. But that had no bearing on Lil Sleek’s resolve to relieve that bewitching tree of some of its goodies…I can see girls reading this getting excited at that word; Goodies.

So, in preparation for operation ‘Juicy Fruit’, Lil’ Sleek insisted that mummy prepared chicken for lunch. And he ate it. Oh, so nice. Nyam, nyam.  Not that the chicken would in any way have an effect on his juicy quest, but the young man wanted to just get some. In those days, ‘getting some’ referred to eating home-made chicken. This quest for juice was too big for the young man to pull off on his own, so he wrote a note to Sly, his cunning buddy, and went to his window to call carrier pigeon to do the delivery. But carrier pigeon was out having quality time with his harem of birds. Pigeon pimp. No wonder the feathered one was always tired. You’d send him to deliver a note to Salama, telling her to come over since mummy and daddy were away, and the foul would only stop at Pallen’s, panting, spent. Late night’s partying, bird manners and beaking were getting to him; he’d have to be relieved of his duties.

Seeing no other option, Lil’ Sleek decided to consult Penelope, his cousin. This Penelope, she lived with those of Lil’ Sleek. And all day everyday, she stayed holed-up in her room, getting high on the only thing that gave her teenage life meaning; Mills and Boon. The few times she’d wander out of the room, like the one time her curtains caught fire, a glassy, far-away look in her eyes never left her, and she’d keep twiddling the flowers in her hair, long gone dry from lack of exposure to proper sunlight and lack of soil and all those things Lil’ Sleek had been taught in Science. As though preparing him for a lifetime of  farming. Not knowing that the lil one had his hopes set on being a poet. One who only performed at national celebrations; independence and the like.

The hero of our story approached Penelope’s room stealthily, for he knew that he’d require a whole lot of tact, and luck, to tear that teenage girl away from her Mills and Boon. Like all girls her age, she read those Mills things faster than they were produced. And she couldn’t re-read any of that stuff; even she couldn’t stoop that low. So she’d resorted to writing her own. Anything for a high. And then at school, between giggles, the girls would pat down their pink skirts (starting to bulge from nature taking its course in the chest area) and then after solemnly swearing en-mass, not to steal each others books, they’d exchange the litter, ahem, literature. And the giggling would start immediately as pages were turned. And they’d go on to fail in class. Those books killed a generation. They still walk among us, eyes heaven-cast, waiting for Hector, Ramon, Carlos to fall from the sky. To come on a horse. Yz, not ‘come’ in that way. Sick child.

Grown-up Sleek has run into some of these deluded girls. Screaming to get them to stop staring at the sky, he usually tells them, in a deep, roughshod sorta way, “Lady, (appropriate cowboy soundtrack playing in the background), Hector, Ramon and Carlos won’t fall from the sky, but Daddy Sleek has got you.”(Said while partially tearing shirt-off to reveal just enough chest hair to cause movement in female-chest area)

“Lady, I may not have….”

They usually walk past him at this point, eyes still heaven-cast.

Big digression there. As big as they come. Again Yz, not ‘come’ in that way. Back to the story.  So, Lil’ Sleek obviously had a grand task on his hands. Getting Penelope’s attention. All stops had to be pulled. Guavas needed to be got. These guavas would be his first conquest. But first, to get Penelope’s attention outta the Boon.So he reached for a frying pan…

   January 25th, 2010    Monday Massacres...Bollocks