Sweet 16

[lolitics_meme]

Anyone else smell sulphur? Anyway...

They grow up so fast, don't they.  The meme is coming of age and now considered legal in most parts of the world. (In case someone wanted to write meme/? )

We've never been very strict parents and are very proud of all our little meme's achivements. Here's a little reminder of the rules as the meme sometimes picks

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FILL: Tom Watson and Tentacles: Abominations. Part 10/12

[anonymous]

Tom wakes from darkness to more darkness, and the sounds of someone crashing nearer, calling his name. He sits up with sluggish slowness, checking each separate ache in his bones, each tender flayed spot on his dermis skin, the ambush of each jabbing agony deep inside his arse. His mouth is dry and his sinuses feel dehydrated, so that his answering shout comes out more like the call of a carrion crow.

“Mr Watson?”

A figure galumphs through the wood that Tom now realises is surrounding him, tripping over big roots and metallic objects on the ground so that it appears to be doing a manic dance on hot coals.

“Here!” Tom shout-whispers.

“Oh thank the Great Ones! Are you OK?”

Tom considers. Physically he’s in a parlous state, but mentally and aesthetically he’s zinging.

“I might need some help,” he admits, “And - please! - some clothes if you have any. Who are you, anyway?”

“Ah-hem. Lachlan Murdoch, at your service.”

Tom snorts with un-amusement.

“Are you really? What’s brought this on? Instructions from on-high?”

“My father … and .. well … we received a Visitation earlier tonight. A summons, rather. It .. It was very angry with us. When James tried to justify our actions, It … It just consumed him. Took his essence and then dissolved the corpse. There’s nothing left! We .. we’re going to have to put out a bulletin saying he’s resigned from News International to take a more active part in our operations somewhere else - preferably far-flung without too much contact with the outside world.”

“Oh dear,” says Tom inadequately. He gropes automatically around and surprisingly locates his spectacles immediately, “Um. Where exactly are we?”

“The little island on the Serpentine in Hyde Park,” replies Lachlan, “It told us … ordered us … to find you here. It also mentioned a gift it had left. I think that’s what I keep tripping over. Hang on - I’ll get some light.”

“Please do.” says Tom politely.