Friday 22 November 2013

#33 - Imp Prisoned

Cackling Barnaby finds himself constrained by a thicket of bone
imprevious to kicks, gnawing, imprecations, and the fine sharp teeth
of his sailor's knife. He snaps the blade back inside the ivory handles
and opens the bargaining:

'If you release me, I shall bring you a plum cake
at cockcrow for a year and a day.'

'Eff off,' responds the Countess.

'Release me and I shall grant you the power
to transform regrets into splendid trousers.'

The Countess picks at a wart and says nothing.

Barnaby tears at his beard.
'Very well! If you release me, all your rivals
will henceforth have a bum for a mouth
and a mouth for a bum!'

his last words drowned out
as the Countess stands,
starting the chainsaw.

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