Sunday, 4 October 2015

Oh, brother (part 23) by Grant Harbison

“Gypsy Jess, you are simply the best,” declared Ilirium. “I speak from the heart and do not jest.”
“Thank you my little one. Yer heart be blessed. But best ye get dressed so that I can introduce ye to the rest.”
“Before we go, there is something I must address. I really don’t feel comfortable wearing a dress.”
“Oh, now that’s a pity. I really think ye look so pretty. But let me look and see if I mights be able to find ye a tunic and tights.” 
Jess searched through a large wooden chest
And pulled out some tights, a tunic and vest
“Put them on, it’s time to eat. And don’t be alarmed by the people ye’ll meet.”
“Why might I be alarmed? I don’t wish to meet them if I’ll be harmed.”
“What I mean is don’t ye fright. Some of them don’t be a pretty sight.”
And Gypsy Jess was absolutely right
There was the flirtatious and foxy Abigail
With the batting eyes and vixen’s tail
The large breasted and muscle bound hermaphrodite
Who went by the name of Shear de Lite
Paul, the extremely tall vociferous Gaul
Aba Azure
The one eyed Moor
Albert von Stanick
The Germanic manic
But all in all they were a hearty group
And there was joy and laughter as they continued to scoop
From the large cauldron with the wild mushroom soup
All except for Malcolm Horn
The miserable midget who eyed him with scorn
Ilirium mentioned it to Jess later that night
“Don’t worry about him,” she said. “He’s just uptight. Now come sit with me and see what might befall. Let’s see our future in my crystal ball.”
Jess looked into the ball and struggled for breath
“Oh my little one, I’ve just seen your death!”
“When? Tell me, I pray!”
“I don’t understand. It happened yesterday!”  

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