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ARYAN KAGANOF
How Sammy stopped shaking   Charlie Manson is irritated to see that Sammy The Shake has brought The Son of Man to the appointment. The Son of Man is brandishing two lead pencils he’d jammed up his own ass a month ago as a protest against the war on drugs. Although Charlie entirely agrees with The Son of Man’s sentiments he does not like the close proximity of the two shit-stained pencils to his olfactory organ. Sammy The Shake mutters grimly that he’s not interested in politics, he's got the shakes again.   The three of them wander around the inner city streets for a while looking for The Penguin to score from but he’s nowhere to be found and soon Sammy The Shake has got the shakes so badly that Charlie Manson pulls out a Stanley knife and holds it to Sammy's throat all the while yelling "Quit that shaking dammit, quit it" but Sammy can't stop shaking which is the very reason he's called Sammy The Shake. Just then and by way of a solution The Son of Man has the bright idea of selling the shit-encrusted pencils to the Institute of Contemporary Art which is just off the Herengracht. They jump into a taxi which is immediately mired in a huge traffic jam on the Vijzelgracht.   The taxi driver is wearing a yellow plastic Star of David stapled to his ear. He turns nonchalantly towards Charlie Manson and asks:   “So how long did it take?”   Charlie Manson snarls.   “Nine months.”   “And when were you born?”   “Two days ago.”   “And to murder your mother?”   “Twenty seven years.”   “Oh. You’re slow. Now for your father.”   “He ignored me.”   “Forgive him.”   The traffic unjams, exposing the remains of a cyclist who seems to have mutated into a cyborgian tramrail sculpture. Man and machine, perfectly fused in a classical postmortemist sculpture. Charlie Manson grins and asks the taxi driver for a receipt. He pays with fake banknotes, Euro replicas picked up in Albania before the nuking. Charlie, Sammy The Shake and The Son of Man rush into the crisp front office of the venerable Art Institute just before closing time. The shit-stained pencils are examined by an owlish curator. He hums and hahs. Scrapes off a piece of the excrement and places it under a microscope. Makes measurements. Dabs and daubs chemicals onto the sample. Checks the results on his computer. Finally the curator turns to the motley trio with an almost-smile playing on the sides of his mouth.   “They’re originals.”   He pays Charlie Manson in cash. The banknotes smell suspiciously of wine, but seem authentic to Charlie. A month after the transaction is conducted the valuable pencils are accidentally sharpened by a fastidious Morroccan cleaning lady who is fired on the spot when the heinous art vandalism is discovered.   Meanwhile our merry brigade, their pockets brim-filled with wine-stained banknotes, rush back to the Zeedijk where the Penguin has finally arrived. The Son of Man rolls the bones while Charlie Manson scores and then the three of them share a single rusty needle in order to save funds. Aryan Kaganof drives Audi and shoots Glock. His favourite mode is prosopopoeia. He lives in Johannesburg. |
© 2005 Underground Voices |
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