affame_le_geant_pain_in_the_ass fyn gula "um excuse me," saumboo said, wincing. "can you please let go of my fucking nose, it hurts lke hell." the idea was swinging playfully. she giggled then, and like an olympian gymnast on the parallel bars, she revved up for the big dismount and proceeded to pull off a tucked two and a half into saumboo's open hands. whether or not she knew he would catch her could not be determined. "i'm so sorry," she said grabbing his finger like a pillow and kissing it. "i just thought a bit more pain would, um, swing you my way, no pun intended. interested in the price of a good idea?" "yes!" saumboo said, urgently. "i have a job to do for the king, plus this wicked, nasal torment. i'll pay anything!" "uh huh." the idea said, twirling and clapping her hands. "a good idea is worth it all, now, isn't it?" "but what do you want, pleeeaaasssee!" saumboo said, grabbing her around the waist and lifting her inches from his face. "time is running out!" "no no no no no." the idea said, giggling. saumboo didn't know it but ideas were highly ticklish. her belly shirt had risen slightly to reveal a tattoo that spiraled around her navel. it read: "never thought my day would come." saumboo noticed the words, even though it was getting increasingly hard to see out of his swollen eyes. he recognized the font of the words. it was similar to what he himself used when he sent handwritten letters back to his adoring sisters in sudan. "has your day come?" he asked, suddenly curious. it seemed that self absorption lessened in the light of wonder. for a brief moment he forgot about his personal anguish in the pursuit of friendship. "absolutely," the idea said, sticking a finger in her belly button. she twirled the silver piercing that drew initial attention to the inscription. "and so has yours." "how do you know when your day has come?" saumboo asked, putting the good idea down on the queen's nightstand. "when you know you must make a decision that will afeect your life and all those you love," she said, sitting with her hands under her legs. her feet kicked to a slow, lazy rhythm. "you've done that before?" saumbo asked. "everyday," she answered. saumboo thought for a moment, allowing the simple truth and understanding do its magic. as he was doing so, the idea sang "my favorite things" from the sound of music. "ok, here's what i want you to do," saumboo said. "spill it," the good idea responded. "like blood on the ground." "what?!" saumboo was shocked. "nevermind," the good idea snickered. "it's a metaphor concerning permanence. don't worry about it." saumboo was getting impatient. "i want this fucking nose to go back to normal and for the wasp sting-ass pain to be history," saumboo said, crying. the salt of his tears increased his miserable condition. "i'm not a genie," the good idea said, matter of fact. "but i can tell you how you yourself can accomplish just what you desire." "why do you keep going in circles?" saumboo panted. "just tell me, you uncompassionate mistress of torture, just tell me what to do and what it's going to cost me. fuck!!!!!!!!!!!!!! you are a pAIN IN THE ASS!!!!!!!!!!!" "yes," the good idea said, smiling proudly. "i am. good ideas are very hard to come by." she walked over to her tiny airplane and began winding up the propeller. "pains in the ass demand unavoidable attention." saumboo came over to where she was working. "ok. here's what i came to tell you in the first place." she said, finishing. her aeroplane was ready for take-off. saumboo's gaze met her eyes. he had never seen eyes so vibrant. "tell the truth to someone and your nose will shrink and as it shrinks the wasp bites and their pain will disappear." "great idea!" saumboo said. why didn't i think about that myself?" "duh." the now great idea said, and she laughed. she hopped into the plane. "be a dear would you and send me off." "wait," saumboo said gently picking up the plane. "what do i owe you." "don't worry. i'll bill you," she said, "you have enough trouble as it is." "thanks," saumboo said, and he gracefully released her tiny aeroplane out the open window. 020407 what's it to you? who go blather from