Horse-Faucet Remains

Horse Faucet RemainsThe sweaty fog of delusion hung over the ancient bones and fossil caves. Six erections and a batch of wristwatch clams stuck sweetly in Horse-faucet’s coat pocket., he stapled the ransom note to his forehead and strode into the bar.

He spoke liquid words that stirred the dust of a dozen sleeping drunkards. Dentist was nowhere to be seen. He was in fact on hiatus, trekking the egg yolks of dilapidated villas and the recycled law enforcement strategies which had battered many a poor man.

The sun fell swiftly like two large omelets skiing naked in a carbonated water bag. Horse-Faucet knew the meaning of the word facilitate, but often confused erotic with exotic. He spent too much time in pet shops and smelled of sleep… bad sleep.

Just as the last train was turning its oars toward the ocean, Horse-Faucet found himself face to freckle with the impeccable shot of Dentist’s long arm. Time stood still, the air was so stiff you could get rug-burn just thinking of pork. Paper-cuts flew left and right, when the steam cleared and frogs settled in for the winter. Dentist lay dampened and Horse-faucet was gone, never to be thought of again.

(recently recovered in an anarcheological dig within my closet, the notebook it was extracted from has been carbonation dated circa 1991)


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TaxidermChaz Werbenverber was the Taxidermist Laureate. The position had been created by the previous president, who had made himself famous with the number of varying pets he kept. Eventually, an executive position had to be created to deal with the eventual inevitability of dead animals that had to be dealt with, otherwise they’d pile up around the White House lawn. So Chaz had been appointed to stuff the presidents ex-pets.

The problem came about, though, with the new president. He kept no pets, so Chaz took to stuffing any animal that happened to die around the White House, birds and squirrels and such. Eventually he was saving any sort of road-kill, out-of-its-misery, or ran-into-a-window within a mile of Pennsylvania Avenue. When he was mapping out a route to collect every animal that would die within the limits of the city proper, he knew it was time to move on.

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