A Little Bit of Me

Jottings and Writing, miscellanous misgivings

Archive for semantics

Word curry

Word curry

D had just committed lactomangulation for the second time that day,  manhandling the “open here” spout on a milk container so badly that he  resorted to the illegal side. All-in-all it had been a frustrating day.

They had been hung over from the night before so resorted to confabulation.

“Dollars to doughnuts they’ll believe this one”

“D here” he mumbled in his best phlegmatic tone “I seem to have been influenzidized”

Midday they had gone to a movie and the inevitable game of elbonics had turned really nasty.  M claimed she had the choice of the front part of the armrest. D remembered it differently. Then the popcorn had spilled onto the floor as the argument heated and he had tried to disconfect it. After expending good air M just knocked the container from his hand and roasted corn obscured the delights of Reese Witherspoon doing her Little Red Riding Hood act in Freeway.

Then as they were preparing to go out for the evening she really put the boot in

“If men can run the world, why can’t they stop wearing neckties? How smart is it to start the night with a noose around your neck?”

Always with the smart cracks and the male put down, though he secretly admired her very astute and funny eye.

So D decided that they would eat in –

‘Do you know what I would like’ he started off,”fish eggs on toast, followed by a game soup so gamey you can taste the rabbits foot. Then something fried in so much animal fat that you can feel your blood vessels clogging. For desert something with chocolate. So much chocolate that your head hurts and you feel like sneezing. They settled on Indian takeaways.

An hour later and the food still arrived. M started off on another little tirade. D teleprocrastinated for a while then eventually got through to Prasads Popodoms.

“Oh! Yes sir! Sorry sir! Our driver has been in a bad accident and delivery will be delayed. Its very near where you live kind sir and if you are so vishing you could retrieve your tasty morsels from the delivery car”

D shcmoosed into the cold night. Down the block he saw the flashing lights of a police car and an ambulance. A white van, doors open, bonnet popped, sat at a strange angle to the curb. A bus, seemingly accidentely unchallenged was surrounded by a gaggle of passengers, muttering and ooying aahying amongst themselves. As D got closer he could see the glass scattered over the road and the unmistakable red of a pool of blood near what was obviously a crash site. Two policemen, notebooks drawn were detectivising near the van. The Prasads Popodoms insignia was cruelly dissected by a large metallic gash. D spotted the white boxes in the rear with the familiar markings.

” Excuse me- I know this may seem inappropriate but that’s my food in the back. Would it be possible…” D’s voice trailed off.

The two policemen looked into each other eyes, the back of the van, surveyed the carnage, the blood, then looked back again.

“Forget the food son, it’s a goner”