One day though, Rodney got stressed out as all he ever did was work and so he decided to go on an exploration trip to the jungle and maybe discover a new civilisation, because he had a great name for an explorer. He thought, ‘who would have thought, all this paid for with ants’.
Rodney Claytrap Smithers, explorer, walked through the jungle. Birds twittered, monkeys howled and screamed. It had been raining, but had now stopped and the Sun had come out. He was lucky to be alive was Rod, because for four days he had been walking across a large area of desert, formed from an area of cleared rainforest. Luckily, he, in a dehydrated state had found a small oasis, and had then been given a lift on a camel, back to the edge of the forest by a group of Bedouins. Rodney then began to hear a noise. It was like a distant roar with screeches and things, which steadily grew louder. Suddenly, from out of the forest began to pour animals, and reptiles and insects and long legged beasties and things that go screech in the night (monkeys mainly). They rushed past Rod, fear in their eyes. He wondered what was wrong, and carried on through the trees. He eventually came to a clearing.
There were several large rocks in the middle of it, and he went over and sat on one. His ears were then privy to a faint rustling noise, which again began to grow louder, and louder: and then the soldier ants came in a stream from the trees in front of him.
Soldier ant 2: “Hey lads and lasses! Isn’t that Rodney Claytrap Smithers the ant killer?!
Soldier ant 2: “Yes! Let’s get him! He can help with our games! Hey! What luck eh?! We can have it all filmed now!
All the shouting was done with their antennae of course.
Rodney sensed something was wrong tried to run, but he tripped. The Soldier ants overpowered him by strength of number. A few of the smaller ones crawled up his nostrils, tore through the bone into his brain and killed him.
Goodbye Rodney Claytrap Smithers.
Although there was no one to hear it, the sound of a screaming woman emanated from the forest and then became louder as a woman appeared carried along on the river of ants. Mavis Tattenborough was a wildlife photographer and broadcaster. She was closely followed by her digital video camera. The ant sat her on a rock, and laid her gear by her feet ... she had been very lucky indeed.
The dissection of Rod then began. His intestines were laid out in the shape of an Olympic running track. Inside the running track were his eyes, lungs, penis, bollocks, and some discs from his spine. A very large ant climbed onto Mavis’s knee, stood on its hind legs, and waved its antennae at this fascinated lady; somehow she understood. She got her cameras ready for the 50,000th Ant-Olympics, we could say ‘in a handy human arena: probably the first event of its kind to be recorded. The ant then turned and faced the crowd, and with waving antennae, officially opened the games. Mavis could almost hear the cheers.
There was a steady stream of ants to ‘Rod’s body’ fast food joints. The ants got their favourite snack (liver was popular), and made their way back to their vantage points. Silent cheers emanated from a million or two waving antennas as the Ant-thletes were introduced.
Event 1
The first event was the 50,000 mm Colon Run. This consisted of four ants running 1 lap round the flattened, now dry intestines. Mavis got the idea and cranked up the camera. The race was a good one, very exciting. At the end, the Olympic Chairant sat atop Mavis’s knee and waved its antennae. She somehow got the message, and dug into her camera case. Luckily she had some old boxes of 35mm film … podiums! She had to dig two small holes so that the silver and bronze were lower than the gold; may as well do things properly. All the competing ants got a prize, which consisted of an antennae cheer, except that three of them stood on boxes laid on their sides, while the actual winner was placed a little higher on an ‘on end’ box.
Event 2.
Diving.
High leaf diving, 22 inches.
Rod’s bladder, the top stitched with vine to form a shape something like one of those poor folk’s adult garden swimming pools. Strangely enough, the event was won by the only Japanese ant in the colony. It would still have won even if two of the other competitors hadn’t been eaten by passing Shrikes including the top diving ant called Tom, who was so good because he practiced daily ...
Event 3.
Bollock Putt.
Two teams of four ants each competed over the best of three tries, at seeing which team could throw one of Rod’s bollocks the furthest. Each try was measured with one of his hairs. The winning shot was an incredible, 1 inch!
Event 4.
Eye Jump.
The winner was the only ant which didn’t stick to the eye (the lens was popped just to make things interesting), and the winner flopped perfectly without touching the goo … a valli ‘ant’ effort!
Event 5.
Lung Jump.
This consisted of both Rod’s lungs being placed at the bottom of one of the rocks. The chosen, most aerodynamic ant was then helped into the tube which led into the lung, until only its head stuck out. This game was badly named, as it actually resembled a ‘man being fired from a cannon’, as seen at circuses. The winning team was the one which managed to push up to the top of the rock, and then roll off … a stone, which fell onto the lung, and blew the cannonball ant the furthest.
The winner was 8 inches (it’s a good job Rod had a ponytail). The crowd waved antennas as the competitors took to the podiums.
Event 6.
Ear Lob.
Again, two teams of four, seeing how far they could throw an ear. Winner … three quarters of an inch!
Event 7.
Discus.
A disc from the spine.
Winner … half an inch!
The technique just has to be seen on Mavis’s recording.
Final Event.
Tossing the penis.
The penis, the end which was severed, was tied with vine while still containing blood, giving it a decent semi.
The winners ... 2 inches! … Rod didn’t have a girlfriend, for an obvious reason (he lived with his demanding mother).
After the games were over, there was a celebratory feast, which left only Rod’s skeleton, clothes, machete, map and compass. After this, all the ants paraded in front of Mavis, which was the closing ceremony which was by the way the greatest, happiest antyclimax ever. All waved their antennae, probably in thanks. They then turned like evening starlings, and on frantic legs, disappeared into the forest in pursuit of more food (or more fun?). The clearing then began to fill with the sounds of returning animals, now that the wave of discontent had passed, or, now that the games had finished, if you prefer. Mavis Tattenborough returned to England, became an alcoholic (a happy ending!), and offered to show the recording to anyone who wanted to watch. The disc was pinched by an amateur film director called Schmeichael Loser, who lost it. Never mind.
The end.
****
THE RINK OF TONS
Gillian was a nice girl, and also a very talented girl, she was just seventeen, and was looked upon, by those who knew and loved her, as a world class ice skater. She had been a child prodigy, and was reckoned to be the next Jayne Torvill only much, much better; her friends called her Blades. Her one problem was that she had a really snotty nose, which is quite healthy, as the body is efficient at ridding the body of all sorts of breathed in rubbish. This meant that she had to permanently carry a fairly sizeable handkerchief ... this of course led to her being bullied, but that’s neither here nor there. Great spirits will always meet with violent opposition from mediocre (at best) minds.
One rotten day, the Council closed the skating rink and razed it. This cheered Gillian up no end and she bought some fireworks to celebrate (sarcasm), and she felt like a great artist who had had his (or her?) paintbrushes and paint confiscated. The former ice rink was then a memory as the site was then adorned with a massive Ikea. Just what everyone wants, ‘to be guided round a massive warehouse surrounded by piles of crap unless it’s your stuff they’re selling.’ B
ut now, in her crisis, her mind began to cry “What to do? What to do?”, and she was one night attacked by a stressed out psychic tawny owl, who thought it heard ‘Too whit, too wooo’, and had come to mate. It got a shock, and Gillian’s hair got messed up.
All the ice rinks in England had been bought by Ikea and Tescos, so there was nowhere to skate in Britain; theatres and other places of art and enjoyment would follow, was this a government ploy? She could wait for the winter and go skate on the local pond, but that had all sorts of junk sticking out of it, and it was illegal to slice a mallard in half while skating backwards. Apart from that, the ice wasn’t ‘that’ thick.
She sat in her bedroom, bags under her eyes. She felt miserable. So miserable, that she opened her bedside cabinet, removed the bottle, and took a good three fingers of vodka ... she’d pinched it from her grandmother’s secret stash. She needed to blow her nose, so she reached in her bag for her hanky. The hanky though, was already full of snot, so she went to the bathroom ... some badstar had used all the roll! She ran outside into the back garden. A look around told her that was no one around. Good. She covered one nostril with a finger, and blew out the other.
The lump of green snot which appeared greeny grey due to all the air bubbles in it, landed on the grass with a splotch, and looked like a large jellyfish. It then began to ooze. Now, they say God works in mysterious ways, and this was no exception.
Gillian had an idea!
***
‘It is not so much the snot which is green as the phlegm component, and this is only when it is infected. Neither healthy snot nor phlegm is really green. It becomes so in the presence of infection because of the large numbers of white blood cells present, which make their way through the airway walls to combat the infection. They also give pus a whitish-green colour. So it should be white but it's snot.’
‘Angus Dobbie, Adelaide, Australia’
***
Ikea had built the first floor of the new warehouse come superstore ... where people would be herded round. One night, full of vodka, Gillian and her dad, who was also full of vodka, broke in. She asked her dad to stand at the side of the new floor (which used to be her beloved rink), and watch ... she had been drinking lots of water all day, and so she should be ready for the task in hand.
***
‘I used to study in London, and noticed the same thing. Snot was black for a while when I went back to London after spending summer hols back home. But after a couple of weeks, it went back to "normal". So my question is: does a person get "used" to filthy air? ‘
Kimberly Tan, Sing
***
Gillian stood in the middle of the large floor. She placed one finger over one nostril, and blew. There was a ‘gnerrrrrrrrsh! And the huge stream of snot hit the floor. She did several more, and then got on her hands and knees and spread it out a bit. Her dad looked bemused, so it’s a good job, that like her, he was pissed. When she had spread it out enough, she licked the remainder off her hands ... she liked salt ok!
‘And why do children eat snot? Is this healthy?’
Ian Walsh, Dublin, Ireland
Then, she removed her shoes and socks. She then did the most amazing display of slide skating her father had ever seen in this new, splendid venue. Afterwards, he hugged and kissed her, in complete and utter thrill! One of the councillors was watching pissed, through one of the windows, and she was amazed. She knew the Prime Minister, and so, she had the Ikea store trashed, and a snot rink built. People came along, took off their shoes and socks, and slid skated to their heart’s contentment. Lots of women liked the feeling as the snot squidged through their toes ... reminded them of good, erm, good ...? I have no idea. And all they had to do each time it got a bit unslippy, was, with the help of Gillian, cover one of their nostrils, and blow out the other one.
Gillian became a world champion snot-skater of course, a little known underground sport. It soon caught on and she charged people to come to the rink and skate and watch shows like Dancing on Snot. Gillian made tons of money.
If Gillian played golf, I reckon she would get some amazing bogies.
Gillian’s nostril technique is also useful if someone walks past you with a toddler.
***
For more Pentertainment:
www.frankie-lassut.com
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