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Description
Greased and Nameless

i was working in the blue mines outside of Zimbabwe with a couple dozen other boys chewing coca leaves to take the edge off thoughts of impending spectrum turmoil, when the foreman can over to relieve us from our duties. "Kids, now gather round ya hear?" -He was from southern Americorp and had a drawl which crept in the back of your skull, resounding still hours after hearing it-"I sayED Git ovah Heeyah! Listen to my words ya igniant savages, cuz we don't wantcha showin' up round these parts no more!" A murmur arose from us workers disgruntled by the news we knew would be slapped in our faces.
It isn't like i really enjoyed working at one of the color mines, yet our family had been apart of them ever since the great rainbow crash of '03 and the subsequent scrambling by international crack'n'candy companies to put a corner on such pigments as your friendly green or ravenous magenta. Until then, we lived peacefully in a wildwest reconstructionist town, equipped with durned ranglers, wayfaring sheriffs and like ilk, which you've probably seen in your telebrochures and helecompters. Folks in these parts used to call me CalamityClam due to my uncontrollable appetite for chaos and my tightlipped persona so tight in fact that you couldn't even get me to spill the contents of my knickers with a redhot poker to the backside. Of Course that all was thrown into a spincycle (cold wash only on my silk shirts madam) when any pretty little thing showed up holding a pack of playing cards, KY Jelly, and a bottle of backwoods moonshine. Blab away mister funny face.
"We's just got bought out by the Mars corp and what i know 'bout dem Marshins is dat dey HAYET indingyNUSS fellers like yourselves what with yer filthy habits you never wash and yer DIEseases! So unless you wanna get civylized, innoculized, and computerized, yer all jus gonna have to find someother place to live. Way I see it them Marshins are fine patriotic creatures what with the way dey compliment their homewhirl redlike with some TERRAbluelike." It's hard enough to take this sort of puritan reasoning sober; imagine about thirty men up on amphedemines fired from slavery by some foreign juicer with atrocious jargon! As it became obvious later, he was grown in testtubes specifically for the function of being torn apart and eaten by angry mobs. Nothing more than an inflatable punching doll that tasted like tainted cheese and sweaty meat. Serve with white wine.
Out of the blue mines, we became a band of ruffians, looting our period villages, ravaging hollywood starlets and beefcakes with our viking helmets, smith&wessons, tommyguns, lugers, spears, chainsaws, pinapple grenades, assault rifles, kevlar vests, chainmail shields, and battering rams. Planes dropping salmon on Japanese towns, howitzers shooting cottage cheese at state capitols, Kool-Aid with cheetos dispensed to the children in return for their help subjecting their teachers to mass questions about puberty crippling the controlledthink biz with horemone cocktails, feminists with bazookas, priders marching in streets delivering pamplets with timed explosives the discharge of which caused instant lackybrain response, teleporters built in unheard of numbers to bring the fight to the dimensional plane pushing back the reptilians, lobsters with rayguns, writers convening on mountain peaks scurrying to read the type appearing in cornfields, vegan mafiosos assassinating slaughterhous presidents and setting up herbalarchies with tofulords controlling the Vegestapo, sexmagicians ressurecting Crowley and his gang with Dead Books and dildos, spontaneous evolutions affecting dogs cats chickens and seahorses breeding new allies and nemisies amongst the quickly dwindling purebreed sapiens resulting in flightless cats swimmingdogs and ugly senators, by Crom we had some fun.
Then i ate the coleslaw...

Description
Greased and Nameless

i was working in the blue mines outside of Zimbabwe with a couple dozen other boys chewing coca leaves to take the edge off thoughts of impending spectrum turmoil, when the foreman can over to relieve us from our duties. "Kids, now gather round ya hear?" -He was from southern Americorp and had a drawl which crept in the back of your skull, resounding still hours after hearing it-"I sayED Git ovah Heeyah! Listen to my words ya igniant savages, cuz we don't wantcha showin' up round these parts no more!" A murmur arose from us workers disgruntled by the news we knew would be slapped in our faces.
It isn't like i really enjoyed working at one of the color mines, yet our family had been apart of them ever since the great rainbow crash of '03 and the subsequent scrambling by international crack'n'candy companies to put a corner on such pigments as your friendly green or ravenous magenta. Until then, we lived peacefully in a wildwest reconstructionist town, equipped with durned ranglers, wayfaring sheriffs and like ilk, which you've probably seen in your telebrochures and helecompters. Folks in these parts used to call me CalamityClam due to my uncontrollable appetite for chaos and my tightlipped persona so tight in fact that you couldn't even get me to spill the contents of my knickers with a redhot poker to the backside. Of Course that all was thrown into a spincycle (cold wash only on my silk shirts madam) when any pretty little thing showed up holding a pack of playing cards, KY Jelly, and a bottle of backwoods moonshine. Blab away mister funny face.
"We's just got bought out by the Mars corp and what i know 'bout dem Marshins is dat dey HAYET indingyNUSS fellers like yourselves what with yer filthy habits you never wash and yer DIEseases! So unless you wanna get civylized, innoculized, and computerized, yer all jus gonna have to find someother place to live. Way I see it them Marshins are fine patriotic creatures what with the way dey compliment their homewhirl redlike with some TERRAbluelike." It's hard enough to take this sort of puritan reasoning sober; imagine about thirty men up on amphedemines fired from slavery by some foreign juicer with atrocious jargon! As it became obvious later, he was grown in testtubes specifically for the function of being torn apart and eaten by angry mobs. Nothing more than an inflatable punching doll that tasted like tainted cheese and sweaty meat. Serve with white wine.
Out of the blue mines, we became a band of ruffians, looting our period villages, ravaging hollywood starlets and beefcakes with our viking helmets, smith&wessons, tommyguns, lugers, spears, chainsaws, pinapple grenades, assault rifles, kevlar vests, chainmail shields, and battering rams. Planes dropping salmon on Japanese towns, howitzers shooting cottage cheese at state capitols, Kool-Aid with cheetos dispensed to the children in return for their help subjecting their teachers to mass questions about puberty crippling the controlledthink biz with horemone cocktails, feminists with bazookas, priders marching in streets delivering pamplets with timed explosives the discharge of which caused instant lackybrain response, teleporters built in unheard of numbers to bring the fight to the dimensional plane pushing back the reptilians, lobsters with rayguns, writers convening on mountain peaks scurrying to read the type appearing in cornfields, vegan mafiosos assassinating slaughterhous presidents and setting up herbalarchies with tofulords controlling the Vegestapo, sexmagicians ressurecting Crowley and his gang with Dead Books and dildos, spontaneous evolutions affecting dogs cats chickens and seahorses breeding new allies and nemisies amongst the quickly dwindling purebreed sapiens resulting in flightless cats swimmingdogs and ugly senators, by Crom we had some fun.
Then i ate the coleslaw...