affame_le_geant_the_flaming_body_leaps fyn gula "it's a wicked world we live on." ~the transplants cayris foxglove, like all anthropomorphic kemulyans, led a parallel existence in the world we commonly co-inhabit, that is, the one in which we share physiognomical attributes. his ability to cross the bridge from the outside to the inside, transversing the world of the corporal and gaining entrance to the land of the analogous spirit was made possible in part to his propensity to spend time alone, but never lonely. his time altered present consisted of working part time driving a boat with a small parasailing company in ocean city, maryland during the summer months. in the winter, he was a snowboard instructor at seven springs resort in the laurel highlands of pennsylvania. but it was in the moments he was by himself, standing atop a mountain of fresh groomed cordouroy at the start of the day or sitting solitary beside a driftwood fire that he made the leap and stepped over, peeling back that unique curtain that afforded him admittance. what then, was it ,once he was within the containment of his extravagant imagination, that qualified him as a leader of a band of revolutionaries bent on changing kemulya's government, through the process of a violent coup, from a peace-loving democracy to a self-promoting monarchy? he counted his demons, and when they became too many he had to get rid of them. that's what he told himself. yet, in actuality, it was being left in the car when he was a little boy, while his father went into eddie's bar and got shit-faced to escape his depression. it was being woken up in the middle of the night by the garage door and hearing his father walk up the wooden basement steps, then enter his bedroom, smelling the alcohol on his breath, sensing his regret, and then the ensuing accusations of his angry mother that resulted in domestic abuse. he, running out into the blinding light in his pyjamas to try and stop him from hurting her. it was a childhood that was stolen from him. and so in kemulya he could have control. he could have what he wanted. he could use his vehemence as a means to an end. he could make sense of the years of his neglect and replace them with an understanding of personal fullfillment. even as far as he was sinking further into a web of self-delusion. when twinkletoes spoke to him in the midst of the bonfire, cayris nearly felt like he was slipping out of consciousness. as if he was literally being shaken to the very core of his being, a light of truth splashed upon the fallacious exegesis of his troubled soul. he was back at the bridge between two worlds, but it was at risk of being torched, with no way of crossing. he had to act. "GRAB THE MOTHERFUCKER!" cayris shouted, yelling to poj and keggi, his assistants, to apprehend the imposing origami paper-man. he had to be stopped before his psychological damage jumped like wildfire and transformed into physical devastation. however, it was too late. the moment poj and keggi rushed him, twinkletoes ignited their clothing, his blazing intensity sought out a new source of combustion and greedily attacked their black leather and wolf fur. both were on fire immediately and together shrieked with the unbearable sensation of being burned alive. without hesitation, they released their grip on twinkletoes and dove headlong into the snow where their fellow comrades did all they could to extiguish their terror. in the ensuing chaos, the mob dispersed, fearing twinkletoes would begin grabbing at random, attacking anyone in his path of destruction and vengenance, but instead, he made a direct line towards his paper-horse, which was tied to cayris's ostrich-team pulled-wooden cart where the mandrill was bound by the hands to the horn of the cardboard saddle. cayris, temporarily distracted by the horror involving poj and keggi, caught sight of twinkletoes running through the scattering crowd like a firework shot skyward about to explode. he watched him approach the paper-horse, and then with one great leap, he catapaulted himself upon its back and wrapped his flaming body around the mandrill. in moments the horse ignited with a hungry roar and the brilliance was enough to cause the closest of the mob to fall backwards to the snow by its sudden power. the mandrill freaked. she screamed bloody hell and thrashed about with an abandon and strength she never knew possible, knocking all three of them over into the snow. nevertheless, twinkletoes held on. the mandrill's wool coat caught, the fire raged ferociously, and soon she ceased to struggle, losing her life, like a thought, like a blink of an eye. the flames rose some twenty feet in the air, creating a large bare spot in the melting snow. both twinkletoes and his paper-horse were reduced to ashes, while the mandrill's body was burned beyond recognition. 030305 what's it to you? who go blather from