I was walking along the main road and I stumbled into heavy set men with purple beards and cats hanging from the wonderful skirts they were wearing on the end of the Ballymacuiscebatha road and although I was seven decades into my retirement from the sewer society of Gukkland I could still bake the most fantastical plumpberry cream fudge pumpkin liquor pie that would make the hair on a barbers floor stand up and walk out to the shop, across the road onto the bus without a ticket, have a smoke upstairs get off at the foot of Everest and be at the summit of Kilimanjaro by noon, sipping a stirred martini from a velvet covered flash only to get a hovercraft back to the barbershop and lay down dead exhausted An old scruffy blind barber dragged me in off the street by the scruff of my legs and give me a nice plate of lemon muffins and strawberry flavoured juggernaut shaped zebra striped furry hamburgers that tasted like summer holidays in exchange for cleaning the hair of the ground and etching a Beatles abbey road cover on the ceiling of the salon while he smoked opium in the back with Bella Lugosi and Leslie Nielson, while listening to a song of pelicans on a giant gramophone and discussing the fact that buzzword was no longer used it was replaced by another 'buzzword'. like 'vertically or horizontally unchallenged word'. I could hear a crunching sound in the back I peek through the curtains only to discover they had begun to play football with mega dump trucks from discovery channel, they had been joined by the cast of riverdance, and some peace-loving vegan Zombies. A man made from radiators was keeping score. He's using a lit cigarette to set fire to a bed for the blue team when they scored and he set fire to a yellow wardrobe for the yellow team when they score. There were three beds burning and five wardrobes. A man stumbled into the barber shop he began to whistle through his nose in Morse code. I had learned Morse code when I had been on Pluto with royal philharmonic orchestra playing eine kleine nachtmusik underwater, for a week last year. He wanted a short back and side. I got a comb and scissors and began cutting while he began playing suduko on yesterday's evening herald. I cut his hair slowly as his head began to open and sucked me in. I heard him call me a pr**k as I flew inside him. I travelled how a slippery tunnel and into a glass box where I remained locked for 8000 years only to be released by a flock of stampeding priests as they ran away from a black mushroom shaped dog. He stopped and shook my hand as i turned into a frog he brought me back to his home for Belgian chocolate flavoured porridge and fluggy clouds he had captured the day before they were sweet with a slight smell of airplane exhaust only the third time I’ve had them. He introduced me to his wife who was a chair. She asked me if I’d like to sit on her. I declined. Just then I turned into a melon and rolled down the hill, down down down, I rolled until I came to a melon church of the latter day turnips they welcomed me, not with open arms because they had none. They thought I was the messiah because I spoke with a lisp and had an x-ray machine in my side pocket which I used to make some toast for them. A huge storm began as the rain hit me I turned to water and fell into the ground and I fell through the earth more and more travelling down through the planets crust until finally I was evaporated into nothingness by the heat of the earths core. The End
24 Mar 2007, 4:26 am
