37 minutes ago
~The Strange Case of Dr. JekAL and Mr. Pip Part VI (Nearly Finished!)~
[Ed.’s Note: We pick right up where we left off on Tuesday—our unnamed narrator trapped in the privvy, terrorized by the ferocious Mr. Pip. Only one thing will assuage this madman...]
His grisly paws tore into my fleshy shins. His mouth, agape, reeking of unplumbed chthonic depths, emitted such blips and eeps of soul-crushing intensity as to make even Bilial cover his ears in anguish buried in the depths of the underworld. “What desirest thou? You hellborne fiend! Speak!” I cried.
Mr. Pip took his paw and pointed towards a stack of cotton swabs affixed to petite sticks which, after a soothing bath, I oft apply to the interiors of my ears whereby I scoop out any surplus aural wax. I know not the name for these sundries, I’ve privately labeled them “quizzical tips”, although why this soubriquet should not be shortened I cannot say. What could this evil spirit want with these hygienic instruments? Surely he did not plan on cleaning his filth encased exterior. I tentatively picked up one of these quizzical tips. As I brought it near Mr. Pip’s grotesque visage a paw, with Mercury like alacrity, swiped the swab from out my grip. He bounded after that poor stick and batted it between his merciless paws until all that remained was a shredded twig. He waddled back towards my perch, a spine-tingling waddle, redolent of apocalyptic doom, and screamed for another swab. I flung this one across the length of the WC and this too he raced after as though it were some baby bunny he were to feast on. We repeated this activity countless times. Above my head hung not the Sword of Damocles but the Cotton Swab of Regent’s Park. O trials! O tribulations! Had Job only known this test I have no doubt his faith would have finally crack’d. How I remained stalwart through that terrible evening I cannot rightly say. All I recall was a sooty blur whose appetite for these swabs could not be sated. Drained. Exhausted. Fatigued past the point of revival I passed out upon the toilet seat awoken by rosy-fingered dawn the next morning. What I saw next ... but who would ever believe me?
[FINISHED TOMORROW !]