Nov 22, 2004 00:40
No, seriously. You got me all wrong, miss. I'm just offering you a ride into the city. Honestly, miss, you have nothing to fear from me.
I got no dick, miss.
Yeah.
Ah, it’s my own fault. Born and bred in New York, I ought’ve known the risks, y’know?
I’m drunk one night, down in the subway,waiting for my train home. Dying for a piss, too. Well, I get to badmouthing some kid, thinking he’s going to just badmouth me back, just to pass the time.
So he kicks me in the brains, punches my guts halfway up my neck, and shoves me off the platform just as we hear the train. It was like it all happened in slow motion. I had time to see it all. Had time to be scared. Very scared, if you know what I'm saying.
I landed on the third rail about the same time I pissed myself. Voltage took the path of least resistance and all, and, um...
My dick exploded.
I sell lingerie now. Boss sends me out to all the prettiest ladies.
Ah, would you look at that. I love that moment where Manhattan just kinda unrolls into sight there. Don’t it just look like heaven fell down on earth?
I left my dick in New York City, but I love it just the same.
(And that's fifty. SCREAM TALKING complete. The post following this will be the contents linkstation for SCREAM TALKING -- it will be static and permanent.)
(I will appear elsewhere on LiveJournal. But you will have to find me.)
(Thank you for your kind attention. It's been a pleasure.)
-- Warren Ellis