21 oct. 2011, 16h00m
I'd love to be of use, but the birds just stole my nous. We can't have a sexually explicit rave without that. John Brune won't be organising the music this year either, so we need to find another DJ. Another sexy and strong video-ready DEEJay willing to put his life on the line for the fidelity of the beat. We need a true warrior of the music indeed. Brune was an innovator of the 2nd Beat Revolution; drums that could make you weep uncontrollably in a heartbeat. And I stole the locket from my mother one rainy evening when she was dancing wildly in the downpour. I had a horrible, sore throat that day and thought, foolishly, the locket would ease my pain. It did nothing of the sort. The metal was cold in my throat and I choked on the chain as I tried to pass it down. It bunched and tangled itself inside my windpipe, like a cruel jeweller's art strangling me. I went red and saw my mother's face. Retching and writhing and dancing like a desperate animal; crying and dying in the pink mist of my demise. Hands on me, squeezing me, clutching me, holding me, saving me from the tiny, glistening serpent inside me. My eyes bulged as gold and mucus erupted from me and I collapsed onto the floor as the last of the serpent trickled out of my throat. Maybe I should have taken it with a glass of water I wonder as my mother shouts in low tones. I don't listen too closely. Brune wouldn't have let this happen. And the serpent slithers silently away as I start to fall asleep. I dream of being thrown across a supermarket and cubicles that don't lock. And a wizard walked across the beach, but nobody wanted him..