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fyn gula
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it would be a good idea, i think, to read affame_le_geant_amplified_danger
before proceeding with this post.
it will refresh your memory concerning the recent events surrounding feignez's return to the wooden cart.
go ahead now, i'll wait while you do so...
bone chilling, isn't it?
phew.
and so, on we go.
during feignez's absence, frau werzenwozen, seemingly aware the woodpecker was gone, blurted forth once more from her dreamstate,
"toten sie den betruger!" do you remember what it means?
kill the deceiver? very good.
the carte blanche utterance was frighteningly loud, plain, and clear. saumboo heard it like one subject to the obediance demanding orders of an angry mother. puppertwinkle's ears, assaulted by the shout, drooped, and his tail slithered between his legs like a snake hiding from attack. he didn't understand the german, but the tone of her voice scared the living fuck out of him.
the matriarchal mandate was so definative that saumboo did not need to ask puppertwinkle to repeat it. he sensed there were things transpiring in a world he could not see even if he had not lost his sight. boffden had communicated the failure of the swarmarmy to frau werzenwozen via dream exchange and her reaction was disastrous.
not only did she call for feignez's death, but like frankenstein's monster the moment he is charged up with life enabling electropower, she sat straight up from the futon she was laying on in the wooden cart, stiff as a board of fresh cut lumber. her eyes, usually closed, shot open as if pulled by wires, although they were still unseeing. her arms thrust up and out like branches from the tree of death. her legs were hard and straight, pointing together, the needle of a compass whose direction was unknown to all but her and boffden.
the timing could not have been any more perfect.
for you see, this is the exact time that feignez arrived back at the cart. it happend so quick, but when the film is made, you will be able to watch it in slow motion...frau werzenwozen rising, arms extended, hands reaching, feignez arriving oblivious, and then... SNATCH!
right out of the fucking air!
one small feather, black and white,fluttering to the ground. the ballet of wrong place, wrong time.
the vise-like fingers of frau werzenwozen's hands clutched feignez. she never knew what hit her.
she was hopelessly trapped.
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020717
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