Red Monster

Personally I think Blue is being a bit mean to Yellow at the moment, especially as we haven’t actually seen any of his stories yet.

Anyway, monster politics aside I would like you all to consider what it must be like being a fish for 10 minutes.

Swim, swim, swim, swim

Around around

Up and down around

Dark bit of ocean there stay clear beware

Light bit of ocean there

Stay away beware the things from the air

Swim swim swim swim

Algae here, zooplankton there,

Swim swim swim

Not to the shallows

Otters beware

Not to the deeps

Sharks beware

Not to the fresh water or the brackish swamp

Trout and pike beware

I am so ecstatic my friend Yellow is coming on the net too. 🙂 He is a Regurgitation Monster rather than a Gurgitation Monster like me and Blue, meaning that a lot of his material is from true life!

This will be interesting – of course it’s all highly dramatised.

Anyway, this week I thought we could write something from an object’s point of view.

The Teapot

I spend most of my time sitting in a cupboard, in the dark surrounded by other ceramic objects but I am more spherical, whereas they are more cylindrical. They are open at the top whereas I have a hat that sits upon the opening in the top of me. I have a handle like them but I also have a long hollow appendage that is separated from my inner cavity by a holey partition.

Sometimes I am taken out of the cupboard and have dried shrivelled broken up leaves placed in me – sometimes loose and sometimes in little perforated paper bags. Then through the opening in my top boiling water is poured, swirling the leaves and turning the liquid in my inners to a staining brown.

A brightly coloured knitted bag with two small slits for my appendage and handle is then generally shoved over me and I swelter in the heat. I am then picked up by my handle and made to spew scolding brown fluid through my frontal appendage.

I hate being a teapot.

Today’s topic is glitter!

The Red Glittery Shoes

I saw my true desire

In a film

When I was small

A pair of shoes

Red and glitter

Sparkling red

And glistening bright

Magic shoes were they

And followed the dance

But the shoes where nowhere

Nowhere to be found

Until my twenty third birthday

There they lay

In the bargain bucket

Glittery red shoes

Ten pounds with heels to boot

I wear them now

And click my heels

My red shoes

I shall dance in other realms

Beautiful

Red glittery shoes

My dream comes true

Ok ok I know but remember this really is just response writing and we monsters just gurgitate the stories and poems and prose and don’t really think about the later stages such as editing – but obviously things need editing.

Blue said that he had a higher intellect – I think it is so high that it is in the attic. Still at least it gives me an idea for today’s writing – I think we should all spend five minutes writing about the attic or loft or whatever you call it.

In The Attic

In the attic of number five Ermin Street there is an old trunk. Now this trunk is not the sort you could fit a body in, oh no, it is far far too small. However, what it does contain is the severed head of one Mr. A. S. Harding who was an accountant at some large and inhuman institution. He was married to a quiet, washed out woman called April.

A. S. Harding was a model citizen and like his suit a very grey sort of person.

However, he had a secret and this was that he was a very nasty and malicious man and used to beat his wife with a sort of remoteness born of calculation. He was very clever about it and no one ever suspected. Then one day he just disappeared and his poor wife was hysterical and sort of fell apart at the seams.

She kept saying it was all her fault but then his body was found in the local reservoir – just his body you understand, his head being in the attic. It was then discovered he was moonlighting as a dodgy accountant for a charity money-embezzling organisation known as the Mafia.

April got his life insurance money and his pension and went back to college to study art, a subject her husband had tried to beat out of her. April soon remarried and even had a kid but kept her old house neglected and empty. It was, after all, the house she had shared with Mr A. S. Harding and that was why she had kept his head there.

The head was in the old trunk that her wedding dress had sat in. You see there are only so many pre-planned beatings a woman can take and eventually he would have killed her, so she had taken precautions. This had involved severing her husband’s head from his shoulders – fortunately she had done this in the bathroom and the blood had all just washed away.

Of course she had been hysterical afterwards but no one had believed her and then his underground connections had come out and, well, the rest was history.

I’ve just been reading some of Blue’s work and think that he is perhaps struggling a bit with ideas, also I am a little hurt with his comments about my work.

So this week I thought I’d write something about how red is a superior colour to blue. You could do a colour inspired poem yourself – but I suggest you take the colour purple.

Red’s colour spectrum is full of beautiful rolling hills

Not silly little hummocks like blue all cramped and hard to climb

Red is the colour of setting suns

Warm and cosy

Blue is stark and cold like ice

It leaches the warmth from the world

Blue is a dead colour

Red is alive

Red brings rosy tones

Blue the undertaker’s hue

Ignore blue

Embrace red

By Red

Well some of you thought that last week’s post was too gruesome so I thought I’d do something lovey dovey this week. The subject is fluffy cushions. I think you all need to do a 10 minute writing exercise on this subject.

Fluffy Cushions

My cat is a beautiful white persian and loves to drape herself on the settee. Her fur is long and lustrous and thick and when she is curled up you cannot see her little squashed face nor where her body ends and her tail begins. This was all fine until my great aunt Cecilia came to visit. Now Cecilia was extremely old and her eyesight and hearing were crumbling fast but in her day she had been part of the forefront of fashion and was the authority on – which cut of clothing and what colours suited what and whom. She is lovely in a sort of industry calculated kind of way.

She came in the house and exclaimed over my newly furnished flat, then she asked where I had got the adorable white fluffy cushion on the settee. I said, ‘That’s not a cushion, that’s Tufty the cat!’ But what she heard was something more along the lines of ‘That’s mock cashmere that’s Tufty, that!’

She then proceeded to try and pick the cushion/cat up by grabbing a handful of fur.  What she got was a whirlwind of tooth and claw and a grating noise like a broken hedge strimmer.

When she comes to visit, these days, Tufty hides in the kitchen and Cecilia avoids all the soft furnishings she can.

Hello again!

This week I thought I’d write about gnashing teeth, you should all write for 5 minutes about teeth as well, though you might want to be a bit less, well, red!

Gnashing Teeth

At night there is a demonic demon known as Dentineous Gruesiosome. It hides in the toothbrush cupboard in the bathroom. When you are getting lax with the whole dental hygiene thing or have not eaten enough fruit it enchants the toothbrushes.

Then when you next clean your teeth the toothbrushes white or (these days) garishly coloured bristles scour at your teeth and catch at the pink gums that have turned a disturbing shade of grey/white. Red blood spouts from minute lacerations turning the cleaning froth a pretty shade of pink.

Sometimes the demon will create stink bombs that it plasters on the tongue and the back of the throat, bad breath and a phlegm, forming normally just before a first date. But it is the blood of the infected gums that it craves so beware or your teeth will become loose and then when angry and gnashing your teeth they will rip bloodily from the gums and land with a ceramic clink in the barber swirl of your sink.

The End

Wow I have a blog! The Wiggly Pets have helped me set it up and Blue Monster has reluctantly said that he will help me by adding me to his blog roll and stuff but obviously only if I add him to mine.

I am a Story Gurgitation Monster and am very excited to find this new medium with which to help infect the Terrian population with writing. Just like Blue I will be writing stories and leaving little tasks for the humans to do – hopefully in a sort of brainwashing way so they won’t realise we are here.

In the old days some of us Gurgitation Monsters were worshipped as gods or spirits which was a bit silly but lots of fun. Some of you may know one of our old guises – we were known as muses – how very amusing!

cough I apologise I just could not resist such an obvious pun!

Anyway I will be back soon with lots of yummy stories to tell you – now being Red and red and indeed Read I am most likely to be a bit erm… bloodthirsty or romantic I am afraid but only in a sort of gentle way if that makes sense?

Talk to you all soon!

Red