kaolin fire presents :: writing :: fiction

"Bob_1.1"

words

[This is unfinished, and broken. Ignore?]

One of life's greatest mysteries is where knowledge is born: whether knowledge exists for us to find it or whether our view of reality accords us this knowledge. Which is the creation and whom the creator? Electricity is a fundamental force in our modern world: many use it, most abuse it, and few know of its hidden desires. A team of top minds has been summoned to delve within the being of this mystery and search out (or create) new truths.

At ten-forty-five of the morning, I sat and waited patiently... eagerly... for the meeting of minds to begin. The parking lot was empty and there were no signs of my esteemed colleagues. I got out of the car cautiously and looked around. Already my suspicions were roused: it was not like them to be late. The circles burned into the dirt merely confirmed my darkest fears. My fears leapt for me with gnarled hands and wicked teeth but I made salvation, albeit narrowly, by throwing myself into my car and speeding away. The rending feeling of death and destruction slowly faded as I contemplated the lack of my friends. Alien abduction strikes again -- what do they fear? Would a deeper familiarity of the sexual tendencies of electrical cords allow us that ultimate power? Or should I allay my quest and once again study bull feathers?

At noon-fifteen, I cuddled myself woefully. Afraid for my existence and for the future of mankind, I nursed a double cappuccino and allowed myself to relax. The phone was merely a hand's length away. I discretely dialed another colleague, a dear friend of mine. She sounded very distraught and almost to tears as to the goings on and assured me she would be over shortly. After misplacing the hook several times, I eventually unplugged the phone so as to silence the nagging operator.

At noon-thirty, there was a knock upon my door. I unwound myself and carefully peeped through the peephole. It was not her but Bob, a good and just friend of mine, whom I readily invited in and told of the great conspiracy. Bob asked after Fred and I told him I had just been in contact with her and that she would be over shortly. He nudged me, winked, and offered to go out for beer. I begged him patiently to stay as I feared for his safety, and wondered why Fred had not yet shown.

At one of the afternoon, I became worried. Bob and I set out to gather information as to the whereabouts of Fred. I set out to her house while Bob said he had one errand to run and journeyed a separate path.

I sat despondently in front of Fred's house watching the clouds grow and the grass pass by slowly. She refused to answer the door or phone and I could not find an open entrance to her abode. I absently looked at my wrist time and time again, wondering how I had misplaced my watch.

Some time later, Bob returned, carrying a somewhat abused Fred. She looked as if she had had her stomach removed unprofessionally. Most of its former contents hung about her clothes in mild disarray. I hastened as close to her as the stench would permit, asking after her health and safety, and inquiring as to what her alien abductees had looked like. The trauma seemed too great for her: she merely spluttered somewhat in reply.

Gently I assuaged her feelings of terror and we set about to find various implements of electronic nature. As my equipment was to be considered the control group, we determined to acquire contributions from our various neighbors. One house gladly contributed its share by presenting us with a plethora of Christmas lights. Another neighbor donated the use of an electric weed-whacker, and Fred decided to add in a strange cylindrical device, knobbed at the end.

As we meandered home with our prizes, Bob stepped into an alleyway mysteriously. A strange zipping sound was made and next was heard a low trickle followed by a deep growl. The trickle quickly gushed to emptiness as Bob ran past us, pants around his ankles, followed hastily by a small pack of rather large dogs. Stoutly I looked into the alleyway to see what treasure Bob had lured the wild dogs away from, but could figure nothing out. Assuming that Bob had grabbed the item himself before escaping, I acquired Fred's lagging attention and headed home.

describe research laboratory... get drunk, commune with electronics... get datum, conclude with hypotheses. second experiment: test emotional stability of components... impotence... UNPLUG! (sensory deprivation) Bob returns, runs into bathroom, slams door shut. muffled thumps hitting main door, whimpering coming from bathroom. third experiment: orgy: plug EVERYTHING in. (blow fuse) fourth experiment: use surge protectors... (condom or anti-orgasm device?) experiment 5: go into bathroom hook electronics up to bobs genitalia... leave him alone (privacy) come back next day, he's gone. electronics ate him! aliens have taken control of them and they must all be destroyed! funeral pyre of electronics... bob returns, happy happy joy, rushes towards us smiling maniacally, arms outstretched... swing *thump*