affame_le_geant_blood_on_the_floor fyn gula the madrill, picking up a jar of barley green powder from the teak wood shelf of baeroun's mercantile could not deny plasimento the manager's obscure but shockingly accurate look of recognition when he gazed at her shoulder bag. she was as sure as her ass was blue that not only did he know what the contents were, but after he set the persimmons in their place, he was going to alert an opposable force that would set into motion an avalanche of accusation that would result in her apprehension and ultimate imprisonment. restlessly, she stared at the jar of bright green powder. the thought of it mixed in water and sliding down her throat juxtaposed with her sudden surge of paranoia nearly made her retch right there in the aisle. if it wasn't for a snooty prep in her banana republic harrison cut khakis and kate spade bag trying to squeeze by her, she probably would have. "how does that barley green taste?" she asked, not bothering to say excuse me or offer any normal use of pleasantry, obviously quite used to gaining information when she demanded it. the madrill, swallowing the acid of her fear, looked into the woman's face, which by the way was a long-nosed fox (make-up by bobby brown) and shook off her recent spell of pessimistic alarm. "oh," the madrill said, averting her gaze to plasimento still arranging the persimmons. "um...i usually mix it into some type of fruit juice. it's quite bland by itself." actually, she never mixed it with anything but msm, miracle2 neutralizer, sago palm vitamin c powder, and citracidal, but she wasn't about to go into those ostenacious and superfluous details when all she wanted to do was get the fuck out of the shoppe before she got caught with the rotting flesh of puppertwinkle in her shoulder bag. "what is that god-awful reek!?" the preppy, snobby, fox-woman asked. her long nose was higher in the air than usual. she put her slender, thin-fingered hand with its glistening red nails up to her twisted mouth and then buried them both into her multi-coloured, horizontal striped gap sweater with matching scarf. her brash words, a lightning strike from the turbulent skies of insolence, so startled the madrill that she dropped the bottle of barley green powder. it crashed to the floor with a sickening thud and broke into several jagged shards, spilling its smooth contents upon the beeswaxed pine floor. "oh, clumsy me!" the madrill said, immediately bending down to clean up her unexpected folly. upon her way, the shoulder bag struck out like a bumbling fool and she unknowingly knocked down six bottles of kikkoman soy sauce from the opposite shelf. the noise was as loud as a screaming demon shrieking the undisguised evidence of her guilt. the brown liquid ran a small stream along the uneven floor where it mixed with the barley green powder to form a disgusting paste. in her haste, she cut her finger on a sharp piece of the glass that glittered all around her like a dangerous fall of ice. the snooty fox-woman, hands now in front of her like a shield of protection, moved backwards in revulsion, not only from the chaotic accident, but more so by the stink, which she felt increased as the madrill swiftly moved about in her reckless attempt to clean the mess. plasimento, hearing the sound of the crash, arrived with janitorial implements. he carefully guided the fox-woman out of the aisle, who was murmuring something about the smell, and then, noticing the blood on the madrill's hand, called out for his stock-boy to clean up the mishap while he attended to her injury. the dude was a teen-skater with a kapuchean monkey head wearing a green and white bandanna and a "free tibet" t-shirt. his pants were baggy, but they tended to hide the things he needed to keep hidden from plasimento, although he would be surprised how callous he would be if he knew about the shit he was into. the madrill suddenly ran out of the shoppe, almost slipping on the mess, dripping a trail of blood behind her. 030103 what's it to you? who go blather from