true love waits
I present to you now the fantastically unfunny account of Thom Yorke, Carl Barat and Their Adventure On An East Londonish Street.
Kate Moss has a part on this, so if you're squeamish, you might not want to read this.
And it's Zac, like Zac Needs.
Carl was a lady of the evening. Or a lad of the evening. Whatever the hell they say in Scotland. In America, they'd have called him a two-cent gigolo, but the truth was, Carl was better then that. His going rate was 50 pounds for a kiss on the lips alone.
Carl hadn't meant to be a prostitute, but his father had kicked him out of the house early on for being sassier then he was. Jobless, homeless, prideless, Carl turned to the weird world of paid hedonism. It wasn't so bad, really. Yes, one time he had pleasured Morrissey. But it wasn't all bad.
He operated on a lively street in East Londonish. It was lovely street, full of bright shops, bright people and lamp-posts perfect for swinging on while looking for potential customers.
Thom Yorke lived above this street. He bought a flat there because the lamp-posts had a most cheeky way of winking at him and he liked that. Most people just thought he was a creep and weirdo and he got asked a lot "What the hell are you doing here?" Not the lamp-posts though. So that was alright.
(Also, because the landowner he rented from was the only one who let him own a piano AND keep an ostrich in the courtyard out back. True, Thom had to pay extra for the bird, but it was worth it. Zachery was his pride and joy, his best friend, his soulmate.)
So Thom and Carl peacefully coexisted on that lovely little street where the lamp-posts wink. Store fronts came and went, scarves went in and out of season, but life was, for the most part, unhindered by the wear and tear of the rest of the world.
The day it happened was like any other day. Thom was down in the courtyard giving Zac a cuddle before he left to buy some new sunglasses and ostrich food.
"Don't worry Zaccy," he mumbled, kissing the ostrich's head. "I'll be home soon!"
He shut the gate behind him and went out. Carl was hanging off a lamp-post on the corner. Thom pulled his leather jacket close to him. Carl made him feel funny inside, like his stomach had been caved out and replaced by a vacuum. Not like when he was high and dry and hungry, but when his floor was dirty and needed to be cleaned.
Carl smiled at Thom as Thom scurried past. He'd always wondered about that funny little boy who never seemed to leave his house, except to buy ostrich food and get a haircut. Carl thought he'd be fun person to know, but Thom was so unresponsive that it was hard enough to get a glance out of him, let alone a word.
A customer approached and Carl flipped his hair.
Zac kicked the gate. Thom hadn't latched it securely and it opened. Zac had always wanted to see the world outside, but hadn't ever been allowed. He had just reached the street when a skeletal figure with a pursed smile and bad hair threw a black sack over his head and Zac knew no more. For now.
Carl saw Thom coming back his way. He'd seen Thom's ostrich walk out, so he figured he might as well tell the boy now.
"Hey," Carl reached down and touched Thom's shoulder. Thom jumped. Carl smiled. "Your gate is undone. I think your ostrich ran away."
"What?" whispered Thom. He dropped his bag and ran into the courtyard. "Zac? Zac? Oh my god." He fell to his knees and put his hands over his face. Carl ran in after him and knelt beside him. "Alright?"
"My ostrich," moaned Thom. "My Zac. Oh god, what am I going to do?" He grabbed Carl's shoulders. "Did you see him? Did you see where he went?"
"Yeah, across the street." It had been a slow night. Carl had seen everything. "Some woman put a bag over his head. She looked hungry."
Thom began to cry. "You think he was ostrich-napped?"
"She was blonde I think," said Carl, patting his pockets for a handkerchief. "Kinda sick looking."
"Oh my god," said Thom and he jumped to his feet. Carl looked on appreciatively from behind. "A model."
"Yeah, she did look a bit familiar." Carl couldn't stop staring. "Kate something."
Thom turned around. "Carl, you've got to help me. I've got to get Zac back. Where did she go?"
"I'll show you!" Carl grabbed Thom's hand. "She went this way.
Kate Moss is evil.
Carl and Thom ran up the street. Carl was sure he'd seen the skeletal woman turn up the street, but he saw nothing. It was only Black Boy Lane. He sighed. "Sorry Thom, I must be wrong. I don't know where she is."
Thom's face fell. "I guess we'd better go back and call the police."
Carl put his hand on Thom's arm (he couldn't resist, it was such a nice arm) but before he could say another word, there was a terrific scream from a house three doors down and half-naked man ran out of the house.
"BUGS!" He screamed. "MY HOUSE IS BUGGED!"
It was a crazy man, must be. He had dark rings around his eyes, he was flailing and hadn't showered in a week. Thom shrank back behind Carl. He didn't get of the house much and didn't have a lot of experience with crazy men. Carl shook his head.
"What a shame, what a shame."
"BUGS!" screamed the man. "BUGS! ALL OVER! WALLS CRAWLING WITH THEM!" He ran to Carl. "HELP ME!" he cried. "I'M NOT SAFE IN MY OWN HOME!"
"You're living in Black Boy Lane, mate," said Carl.
"AHHHakjlsgahkjadg vnuoaw9er8i," said the man and ran back to his house. Carl shook his head again.
"What a waste of space. Come on, er. . .what's your name?"
"Thom with a 'Th'." Thom released Carl's jacket and stood next to him. "What's your name?"
"Carl."
Thom put out his hand. "Pleased to meet you, Carl."
He had clean hands, but Carl was more affectionate and he threw his arms around Thom. "Pleased to meet you Thom."
Kate Moss is evil. No, like really evil. She took Zac up Black Boy Lane to Pete's house and penned him up in the yard. She was going to eat him. Kate hadn't eaten in a while- models had to be skinny. But damn, when she saw that bird, she knew she had to eat it. It was just too tasty looking.
She went into the house looking for seasoning, but Pete didn't have any, because at most, Pete ate cereal. Pete liked cereal, especially the colourful ones. Pete liked colourful things.
"Goddammit Pete," she said to her boyfriend (who had been hiding behind the couch, muttering.) "I'm going out to the supermarket."
He didn't say anything, just kept muttering.
Pete's house was bugged and he didn't know what to do. Those two male models on the sidewalk had just laughed at him and that hurt. Where had Kate gone? He needed her. She was never there when he needed her. Damn that devil woman.
Pete went out to the backyard to smoke. He came face-to-face with a ostrich.
"What the heck," he said, when an idea dawned on him. Ostriches eat bugs! Bugs are bad!
He gently pulled the ostrich in to the house.
"Okay," said Thom when Carl released him. "What do we do now?"
"Go call the police," said Carl, but before they could turn back, there came a terrific scream.
"PETER PATRICK DOHERTY! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING? I WAS GOING TO EAT THAT!"
"KATE! THERE ARE BUGS IN OUR APARTMENT."
"Classy," remarked Carl. "Let's go Thommy."
Thom remained rooted to the spot, eyes wide, face pale. Kate was screaming again. "PETE! I FOUND THAT OSTRICH! IT'S MINE! I NEED IT FOR SUSTENANCE!"
"Zac is a vegetarian," whispered Thom and fainted dead away.
Carl didn't think. He just charged into the house. The situation was worse then he thought. Zac was standing in the middle of the living, Pete on side, Kate on the other, both shouting furiously.
Neither of them seemed to notice him, so he took a baguette (relic from the Napoleonic ages) and hit Kate over the head with it. She crumpled.
"Dude," said Pete. "That was my girlfriend."
"Word," replied Carl and hit Pete in the stomach with the hardened baguette. Pete fell over. Carl hopped on the back of Zac. "RIDE LIKE THE WIND, BULL'S EYE."
They burst out of the house in a flurry of feathers, leather and squeals of happiness. Thom jumped to his feet. "ZAC!"
"I'm flying Thom, I'm flying!" cried Carl as he raced down the street towards Thom. Thom began crying.
"Oh Carl, you got him back! You got him back Carl, you got him back!"
Carl pulled Thom up on Zac next to him and they rode off into the sunset.
They lived happily ever after. Carl moved in with Thom and worked from there, while Thom wrote the greatest song ever titled "Zac and Carl." Radiohead put it on their next album and it went triple platinum.
Kate Moss died from getting hit by a baguette. Pete made a full recovery and went back to Wolfman. I never thought that would be a happy ending, but desperate times call for desperate measures.
*~*~*~*THE END*~*~*~*
Kate Moss has a part on this, so if you're squeamish, you might not want to read this.
And it's Zac, like Zac Needs.
Carl was a lady of the evening. Or a lad of the evening. Whatever the hell they say in Scotland. In America, they'd have called him a two-cent gigolo, but the truth was, Carl was better then that. His going rate was 50 pounds for a kiss on the lips alone.
Carl hadn't meant to be a prostitute, but his father had kicked him out of the house early on for being sassier then he was. Jobless, homeless, prideless, Carl turned to the weird world of paid hedonism. It wasn't so bad, really. Yes, one time he had pleasured Morrissey. But it wasn't all bad.
He operated on a lively street in East Londonish. It was lovely street, full of bright shops, bright people and lamp-posts perfect for swinging on while looking for potential customers.
Thom Yorke lived above this street. He bought a flat there because the lamp-posts had a most cheeky way of winking at him and he liked that. Most people just thought he was a creep and weirdo and he got asked a lot "What the hell are you doing here?" Not the lamp-posts though. So that was alright.
(Also, because the landowner he rented from was the only one who let him own a piano AND keep an ostrich in the courtyard out back. True, Thom had to pay extra for the bird, but it was worth it. Zachery was his pride and joy, his best friend, his soulmate.)
So Thom and Carl peacefully coexisted on that lovely little street where the lamp-posts wink. Store fronts came and went, scarves went in and out of season, but life was, for the most part, unhindered by the wear and tear of the rest of the world.
The day it happened was like any other day. Thom was down in the courtyard giving Zac a cuddle before he left to buy some new sunglasses and ostrich food.
"Don't worry Zaccy," he mumbled, kissing the ostrich's head. "I'll be home soon!"
He shut the gate behind him and went out. Carl was hanging off a lamp-post on the corner. Thom pulled his leather jacket close to him. Carl made him feel funny inside, like his stomach had been caved out and replaced by a vacuum. Not like when he was high and dry and hungry, but when his floor was dirty and needed to be cleaned.
Carl smiled at Thom as Thom scurried past. He'd always wondered about that funny little boy who never seemed to leave his house, except to buy ostrich food and get a haircut. Carl thought he'd be fun person to know, but Thom was so unresponsive that it was hard enough to get a glance out of him, let alone a word.
A customer approached and Carl flipped his hair.
Zac kicked the gate. Thom hadn't latched it securely and it opened. Zac had always wanted to see the world outside, but hadn't ever been allowed. He had just reached the street when a skeletal figure with a pursed smile and bad hair threw a black sack over his head and Zac knew no more. For now.
Carl saw Thom coming back his way. He'd seen Thom's ostrich walk out, so he figured he might as well tell the boy now.
"Hey," Carl reached down and touched Thom's shoulder. Thom jumped. Carl smiled. "Your gate is undone. I think your ostrich ran away."
"What?" whispered Thom. He dropped his bag and ran into the courtyard. "Zac? Zac? Oh my god." He fell to his knees and put his hands over his face. Carl ran in after him and knelt beside him. "Alright?"
"My ostrich," moaned Thom. "My Zac. Oh god, what am I going to do?" He grabbed Carl's shoulders. "Did you see him? Did you see where he went?"
"Yeah, across the street." It had been a slow night. Carl had seen everything. "Some woman put a bag over his head. She looked hungry."
Thom began to cry. "You think he was ostrich-napped?"
"She was blonde I think," said Carl, patting his pockets for a handkerchief. "Kinda sick looking."
"Oh my god," said Thom and he jumped to his feet. Carl looked on appreciatively from behind. "A model."
"Yeah, she did look a bit familiar." Carl couldn't stop staring. "Kate something."
Thom turned around. "Carl, you've got to help me. I've got to get Zac back. Where did she go?"
"I'll show you!" Carl grabbed Thom's hand. "She went this way.
Kate Moss is evil.
Carl and Thom ran up the street. Carl was sure he'd seen the skeletal woman turn up the street, but he saw nothing. It was only Black Boy Lane. He sighed. "Sorry Thom, I must be wrong. I don't know where she is."
Thom's face fell. "I guess we'd better go back and call the police."
Carl put his hand on Thom's arm (he couldn't resist, it was such a nice arm) but before he could say another word, there was a terrific scream from a house three doors down and half-naked man ran out of the house.
"BUGS!" He screamed. "MY HOUSE IS BUGGED!"
It was a crazy man, must be. He had dark rings around his eyes, he was flailing and hadn't showered in a week. Thom shrank back behind Carl. He didn't get of the house much and didn't have a lot of experience with crazy men. Carl shook his head.
"What a shame, what a shame."
"BUGS!" screamed the man. "BUGS! ALL OVER! WALLS CRAWLING WITH THEM!" He ran to Carl. "HELP ME!" he cried. "I'M NOT SAFE IN MY OWN HOME!"
"You're living in Black Boy Lane, mate," said Carl.
"AHHHakjlsgahkjadg vnuoaw9er8i," said the man and ran back to his house. Carl shook his head again.
"What a waste of space. Come on, er. . .what's your name?"
"Thom with a 'Th'." Thom released Carl's jacket and stood next to him. "What's your name?"
"Carl."
Thom put out his hand. "Pleased to meet you, Carl."
He had clean hands, but Carl was more affectionate and he threw his arms around Thom. "Pleased to meet you Thom."
Kate Moss is evil. No, like really evil. She took Zac up Black Boy Lane to Pete's house and penned him up in the yard. She was going to eat him. Kate hadn't eaten in a while- models had to be skinny. But damn, when she saw that bird, she knew she had to eat it. It was just too tasty looking.
She went into the house looking for seasoning, but Pete didn't have any, because at most, Pete ate cereal. Pete liked cereal, especially the colourful ones. Pete liked colourful things.
"Goddammit Pete," she said to her boyfriend (who had been hiding behind the couch, muttering.) "I'm going out to the supermarket."
He didn't say anything, just kept muttering.
Pete's house was bugged and he didn't know what to do. Those two male models on the sidewalk had just laughed at him and that hurt. Where had Kate gone? He needed her. She was never there when he needed her. Damn that devil woman.
Pete went out to the backyard to smoke. He came face-to-face with a ostrich.
"What the heck," he said, when an idea dawned on him. Ostriches eat bugs! Bugs are bad!
He gently pulled the ostrich in to the house.
"Okay," said Thom when Carl released him. "What do we do now?"
"Go call the police," said Carl, but before they could turn back, there came a terrific scream.
"PETER PATRICK DOHERTY! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING? I WAS GOING TO EAT THAT!"
"KATE! THERE ARE BUGS IN OUR APARTMENT."
"Classy," remarked Carl. "Let's go Thommy."
Thom remained rooted to the spot, eyes wide, face pale. Kate was screaming again. "PETE! I FOUND THAT OSTRICH! IT'S MINE! I NEED IT FOR SUSTENANCE!"
"Zac is a vegetarian," whispered Thom and fainted dead away.
Carl didn't think. He just charged into the house. The situation was worse then he thought. Zac was standing in the middle of the living, Pete on side, Kate on the other, both shouting furiously.
Neither of them seemed to notice him, so he took a baguette (relic from the Napoleonic ages) and hit Kate over the head with it. She crumpled.
"Dude," said Pete. "That was my girlfriend."
"Word," replied Carl and hit Pete in the stomach with the hardened baguette. Pete fell over. Carl hopped on the back of Zac. "RIDE LIKE THE WIND, BULL'S EYE."
They burst out of the house in a flurry of feathers, leather and squeals of happiness. Thom jumped to his feet. "ZAC!"
"I'm flying Thom, I'm flying!" cried Carl as he raced down the street towards Thom. Thom began crying.
"Oh Carl, you got him back! You got him back Carl, you got him back!"
Carl pulled Thom up on Zac next to him and they rode off into the sunset.
They lived happily ever after. Carl moved in with Thom and worked from there, while Thom wrote the greatest song ever titled "Zac and Carl." Radiohead put it on their next album and it went triple platinum.
Kate Moss died from getting hit by a baguette. Pete made a full recovery and went back to Wolfman. I never thought that would be a happy ending, but desperate times call for desperate measures.
*~*~*~*THE END*~*~*~*