(Using shorthand written by Gracious Medallion we were able to decipher a few more fragments of her notorious unpublished book. The use of faeces obviously would have been edited for the squeamish but the editor has decided to use the unexpurgated version. This part was found to be more self-conscious as the drunken Medallion was caught masturbating one evening by her fellow sea-farers as she tried to sleep and as a result became all the more self-conscious in her writing too, almost like some spoilt child…. And the gin was running out. Please note the change from first person to third person in terms of the character Jason. Dementia was setting in. It can be nobody else…)
I sat outside my unit and stared at my yard. I had been feeding the pigeons. About thirty of them would gather on the broken up pieces of bark that gardeners used for cover. After they were gone, I would watch and see the shadows of where they had trod to pick up the bird seed… and you know what? They appeared to leave impressions of sorts of men’s profiles and of other birds. There was even one of a large cock but that is irrelevant today in this politically correct world. The most interesting one in terms of physics was a giant lizard’s footprint, almost like a dinosaur. What if, I pondered, if the collective memory of birds going back to the dinosaurs could still find a way to make a pictograph or whatever you want to call it for me, especially to show me. Or if there was nothing to survive the dinosaurs at all, could their spirits still be walking in the wind so it were and inspiring the birds. Could the dinosaur prints be so unforgettable to the collective memory of the birds that they have survived generations until today. Thus my earlier thoughts about being life on Red Planet or as the witches call it The Spirit World… this being another realm. I would walk outside with my bird seed and a bird looked me in the eye and I saw myself and it saw me for a moment as a man whose head was made of solid bird seed.
It was then that in the realm of Red Planet Cora the witch came swooping down on a grey mare and was carrying a scimitar which she swung from side to side laughing as she came as close as a metre away.
“Ha HA ha ha ha…. I will show you my pretty boy….. for once upon a time.”
IT was then that Cora slew “the lizard which lay inside me” …. Fortunately she didn’t do it by stabbing me in the chest or crushing my skull but she killed it. In her realm that is. As she killed any love I had for others, any cherishing of the world I once loved and lived in. But then come to think of it, was the lizard in the mirror really two lizards at war within the self? The concepts of the inner self are endless, but sadly mine is broken into two.
“See! see what I can do in this spirit world!…. I will torture you until you commit suicide.”
And so she rode off on her steed and I tried to throw a cream pie but my powers are weak. I think I have heart failure from my large girth and overabundance of cigarettes.
“They hate the cut,” said Jack over his sausages later that day. Some historical thing which goes back to bullying and Catholicism among other things such as the Middle East. I had never even heard this term along with making up Red Planet as a name for The Spirit World or remnant. I had already told Jack about the voices I was now experiencing. They were all on my wavelength for some reason or tuned into my head. They began after the “NO more Allah!” Incident and my protest of playing puppetry of the penis with my member in my bedroom. The voices protested there and they were women’s voices, the voices of the witches. But then they followed me everywhere else…
“YOU are a fog hat,” said one, changing the meaning to avoid the BLT people getting upset.
“And you a Thai Dye!!” Which offended her which is the amazing thing… some of these witches get very easily offended even if they like to give you a major offhand serve… So fuck em I thought…. When the voices followed me to the toilet while I voided myself I thought this is all a bit silly and since I am one to make sure its not blood or black in my stool, it seemed worse they would complain. However I could see how incessantly these voices could drive a person to hang themselves like the one who was mentioned earlier…. I think I did… And Cora sent him off to his grave just like me.
“Nobody likes you Jason, you’re hung up on your dick.” …. “Loser Jason” …. “You’re nothing Jason” …”Fog Hat Fog Hat Fog Hat” … all these things were coming through my head although I was totally medicated…. It was enough to drive a man mad as Michael Redgrave said in Dead of Night and you know what?! It almost did!
Clarissa dialled her favourite Fraulein and her name was Cora. She was wearing her silk panties and had a penchant for the landline.
“La da dee da, la la la dee da oh guess who?”
Cora knew it was her lover: “Let me guess? Guess whose hot when naked?”
Clarissa: “Why how did you guess? Would you like to see me naked tonight?”
Cora: “But didn’t we do it only a week ago,” she whispered.
Clarissa: “Look in the bureau drawer. I left you a little present.”
Cora pulls out something from the bureau and it is something wrapped in something.
Cora: “Why Clarissa they’re lovely and xx-large just my size knickers and inside a piece of black forest cake!”
Clarissa: “Now smell the knickers and eat the cake….”
Cora: “Can’t I put it in the fridge for later?
Clarissa: “IN that order! Eat it” It was then that Clarissa began to laugh maniacally as poor Cora could only gag on the unlaundered undies and unrefrigerated cake.
Clarissa snaps out of it enough to say “Jason died of tincture off stone all right! Tincture of Stone!! You come around later and we’ll do this properly.” Click.
Cora remained sad for after all was said and done she had never really known the touch of a man except in terms of violence and uncaring and she deliberately kept the doors of Allah closed in spite more than anything. She decided she would have a nervous breakdown and blame Jason to the ambulance and police in the morning. There was a dusty tear in her eye even a crocodile wouldn’t take interest …
I lay in bed having had the worst night’s sleep in my life, but I always say that anyway. The word had got around that I had answered back to one of Cora’s comments and also used a rude word. This was all on Red Planet or remnant and I didn’t get out of bed… Furthermore I was being accused of psychically raping the woman well if not rape then touching her inappropriately. I lay in my bed as I thought I could hear the police and ambulance pull up … What on Earth? What’s wrong?
It’s Clarissa said one of the managers. We think she’s had a stroke or passed away or something. She’s not getting out of bed…
Of course this was all aimed at me! What the effing’ dick cheesing thing had I done now?
I haven’t touched the woman, I claimed and then I thought I must be quiet as the police it was rumoured through their own minds and perhaps even devices on the phone they could pick up the state of a person’s mind and what sort of criminal they really were. At least this latest travesty was making me forget the horrible dream I had over and over again last night oh bugger of a night and bugger of a dream it was…. I ran naked through a hallway of mirrors and it was always totally silent and then I can’t remember and more hallway and always this sense of not being able to escape and it happening again and again and then at the end a mirror and someone jumps out from behind the mirror – and always a different face! An evil face!! Oh fuck me, how it drove me mad. Oh God how I wished it would stop but I would lie down after sitting bolt upright only for it to take me for its nightmare ride once more. The witches …. I knew it was the witches and they loved what they did, they actually loved to send people over the edge and into suicide and her name was either Clarissa or Cora.
“What the bloody hell do we put this one down to?,” the policeman asked the ambulance driver.
“Telekinesis,?” She asked after it was found Cora had slept in and the police found her neighbour to be respectable enough not to be a psychic rapist.
“Remember, many a fire was caused by telekinesis,” laughed the police and departed.
Cora shivered as she was about to confront her lover for another night of sexual antics. It was kind of like that a confrontation as Cora didn’t know if she really loved this Nazi who had plucked her now 75-year young body from the vine. Clarissa was 80-plus but very fit but definitely the old woman, or the the teacher and student of the pair. Cora knocked on her door… and she noticed the lipstick first on Clarissa’s face….
Clarissa: Come in I’ve got our favourite movie on. Madchen in Uniform the uncut original version.
Clarissa wore a feather boa and nothing else as she danced across the tiny lounge room.
Cora: Where is he?
Clarissa; “He’s gone to respite. If only the war were so easy. Now take off your tracksuit pants…
Cora did so slowly as to turn Clarissa on to the max. She wore no knickers and what remained of her pubic hair was golden and grey.
Clarissa: More…. More…. I want it all off…. I want you to come in every room!”
Cora was shy but she did what her master told her as she watched the old black and white images of the German movie which told the tale of latent lesbian love in a German school where a school teacher becomes involved with a student.
Clarissa: Lie down on the couch my dear…. And to quote Barry White…. Or Was it Hermann Goering? ….. ‘I don’t want to see no bra, I don’t wan’t to see no panties…. And take off that brassiere my dear.’
Clarissa placed her lover on the couch and went back to the kitchen, returning with an apple strudel, heavy on the apple which she applied liberally to Cora’s vagina using a dessert spoon….
Clarissa: Yes, yes, there, there…Cora loved every sensation since her taste buds were no longer what they used to be but still the sensations between her legs remained strong… The application was complete with a dollop of custard before Clarissa plunged her face mathematically perfectly between the flaps of Cora’s vagina. She lapped at her clitoris again and again. Never had a woman enjoyed dessert with such relish. And neither had a woman received her just desserts with such relish. But this was the problem. There were still murders happening in Poopin Place, Jason was about to die either from self abuse or murder and witchcraft may also possibly be the cause. Was there another murderer walking around the retirement village killing – there was Jack with his dog and the woman who dropped off the groceries … But pure witchcraft, the type where women are able to pick up the thoughts of others around forty seconds before they are about to happen. OR do they plant these thoughts in the first place!… Jason believed in that witchcraft as women had told him he had the reverse of women’s intuition and there you should have the perfect match or boring match between and man and a woman. Anyway, he never found it.
It rained that night in Poopin Place and Jason decided to drink himself to sleep once more as another night without sleep was about to drive him thoroughly up and through the wall as he would since again be accused of sexual abuse not of himself but with another woman through psychic travelling across the realm of space. Sadly, Jason had one or two too many drinks and by the time he lay down on the bed his stomach was upset…..
Jason remembered the first night a few years ago when he lay in bed and he could feel a twinkling feeling in his penis and it was a sensation he would grow to know as to have been caused by hang nailing which according to others is a very bad thing to do. Jason wiggled his toes that night long ago as he was known as twinkle toes on the field and someone returned with: Don’t you hang nail me!…. It was forever confusing for Jason if they were really having Jason on as a part of male witchcraft or hang nail could lead to violence….
Jason had run out of Eno and Mylanta and had no choice but to eat some Weetbix to settle his stomach and lay down tossing and turning in his small unit. He would not die he told himself, despite what these witches had planned… They call it overdose.
The red wine was inhaled by Jason along with the Weetbix but pure pressure spewed both out of Jason’s body and ejected them across the bedspread and across the floor.
“Sucked in,” came a voice outside and then the sound of feet scuffling off down the outside corridor which lined the row of units where he lived. “Nooo Aaalah!”
I was dreaming thought Jason, upset they had tried to kill him again. I dreamed I entered one of the units of one of the witches and then removed a bag containing a dog’s poop and placed the poop on the pillow of the witch… It was then the said witch came home and lay her head down on her bed and screamed…. Jason then leapt from the bathroom and began to strangle the said witch. She seemed to get pleasure from the strangulation and Jason was unsure whether to continue or not but she passed out and he left her alone. Then he looked in the mirror and it wasn’t Jason at all staring at Jason! He couldn’t quite make out who it was… My God thought Jason even if there was a thing such as third sight where people can see through the eyes of other people – and I don’t have it – I know I am damned to have others see the world through my eyes and every thought whether they be crimes or not!! I/Jason did not commit this murder if it happened at all!!
All Jason knew was another witch was dead and this creature whom I had inhabited in my dream had finished off the crime because next morning it was announced that a witch only four doors down was found smothered and once more with a poop in the hair.
“What is it with the poop in the hair?,” Jason asked Jack.
“There’s a rumour the dinosaurs used to use this area as a toilet and burial ground… IF you believe in spirituality there may be a gate to hell or a happy resting ground…. I’d say it’s the ultimate insult albeit a very childish one. People get very squeamish when you talk about poo…. And by the way I’d beware of your food around here as there is very often or a bad case of poo finger!”
“Poo finger?”
“You know the case of someone swatting their butt crack with their own finger and brushing it or digging it into the food of those they care very little for. Good case of ecoli will put you out of action for a couple of days.”
And Jason departed feeling a little guilty about kind of being mixed up in a murder to say the least when he noticed Clarissa spit audibly and heavy on the saliva in my direction. I stopped in my tracks momentarily with the feeling the ‘beech’ needed a good kick up the arsehole, but she spoke first: “It is you I know who brings the end to our coven. You are not strong, you are nothing but a wanker, an ignorant wanker…. You have nearly killed all my witches here in Poopsin Place but you shall ride your demon dragon to hell while me and my lover shall swathe across the heavens and live lofty and high among the Gods… Yes, the high life in heaven! How does that sound to you?…. Meanwhile go fuck yourself.”
Jason: No. You go fuck yourself! How did this all start I came into this place with an open heart and an open mind.”
Cora burst out laughing in the background: “Is the Man a saint?”
I felt embarrassed as the room was full of people who didn’t seem to mind the conversation that was going on as if they were used to all this killing and cursing.
And then Clarissa announced: “Is it all right everyone that Jason die’s tonight? He survived last night.”
They all cheered and clapped: “Wanker! Fog Hat!… You should have lifted weights.”
I left on one heel determined to have Hungry Jacks that evening for dinner.
Jason left a handwritten note to his mother and the police which he hoped would reveal all and make sense of the goings on in Poopsin Place or Poopin Place whatever you call um. It read: “IF I am dead in the morning it is because of the witches. They are evil and they have focussed their poisonous minds on me to cover up a conspiracy around the death of a young man who hanged himself some time ago. The main witches are Clarissa and Cora… They rounded up the rest of the other witches to psychically bully and annoy the victim with voices in his head until he had no choice but to suicide. Dare I wonder how many people have been killed this way over the years not only here but throughout the world. But yes they are too many now and the killings have turned into physical ones where the horror of faeces is rubbed in by the ever dominant bully. Bye. I mean your loving son and not just a stupid fog hat Jason. Ps if I had an emoji I’d use the teardrop one.
The last thing Jason remembers seeing is a glowing white light in the shape of a large cross as it was held by Cora. Was this what it meant to hold the power of Allah or the hatred of Allah? But it took not long for the man to die through years of neglect from smoking and drinking and eating to excess…. Summoned by the Gods that night were Jason, Cora and Clarissa… all died suddenly that night and the last battle would be beyond that place known as Red Planet and beyond that place known as the realm of dreams. The two women still wished malice upon Jason and it would be his cross to bear so to speak – to enjoy heaven!
Cora flew across the darkness with her large cross glowing in her hands. I could not understand thought Jason why she did it and remember and earlier conversation as to why Allah is banned. Cora: Because they said so! Jason: Who said so?! Cora: They did Jason: Who? Cora: The men. The madness was deep seated and you had to admit she looked pretty glorious in her gown about to meet the keeper of the gate. Clarissa tagged behind on one broomstick which had been marvellously crafted to match her reddish hairdo. She cried: Oh my love, my love, we have killed the self abuser and abused of the pentacle.”
Cora: But why dear don’t you remember he killed us!
Clarissa: You mean?”
Cora: Dead as fucking door nails. No more microwave strudel.
Clarissa: But I don’t remember saving the world and dying! How did I die?”
The women looked at each other as they took their hands away from their slightly Poopy hair: “Jack!” They chorused.
Cora: He killed them all. Call it revenge or mercy… He knew the so called suicide!” …
“Next” called out guy at the far end of the hall. It was one of the Saints or a demon dressed up to be a saint. I mean I hate to think such riff raff are allowed in…
“Ladies, you can leave your cross and broomstick behind and look forward to a new style of modern living like you’ve never known.”
Clarissa: I’ve heard about it and it’s called Poopsin Place
Cora: But we saw to that! (And the pair broke out in raucous laughter).
Saint: “Just go to the lift and press your button.”
Cora and Clarissa went up to the lift and pressed lift for heaven and entered. The doors closed rather silently and they were gone. So that was it?
“OH no,” said the keeper. “They’ve gone and done it again… Pressed H for heaven and it really means Hell. Damn damn blast. Oh well you’ve seen one you’ve seen them all.”
Jason: What do you mean?”
Saint: “You are still within the deep reaches of the dream world. Thanks for your help in solving this mystery on the Earth but you still have a choice whether to return and drink yourself as well as slowly smoke and eat yourself into oblivion, or you can move onto the next realm.
Jason shook his tired head and upon realising there was no dog poo in his hair, he pressed P for purgatory which he guessed was going back to Earth. Upon arrival he had the body of a teenager as the P stood for Paradise… As for the A for Allah button…. “You get no Allah!!!” I remember came the wild echoing screams of Cora and Herr sugary delight descended in their elevator further and further towards their final destination.
Meanwhile in Paradise I reached down and pinched my foreskin, and you know what?….
And there ends PART TWO of Poopsin Place where only an empale bottle of gin could help the poor writer in her last days or his last days call him or her who or what they are if you will.
Cult Film Alley 