A short scary story.
Once upon a time there was a little boy who attended the local kindergarten. One day, whilst the class walked to the library, he had to hold hands with a little girl.
He caught ‘Girl Germs’.
Walking with the kindergarten class to the library, Tilly Moncreiff found herself in a situation she hated more than anything, having to hold hands with the child beside her. In this case it was with a small boy. His name was irrelevant as he was, as far as she was concerned. The boy sported a face like boiled meat, and an intellect to match. Observing this, Tilly’s dark side stepped to the fore of her young sharp mind, resultant, she grinned the manic smile of Moriarty at the pathetic ease she would remove this slight against humanity beside her.
Tilly belonged to a centuries old, deep black resistance movement. Such was the movement that it had often been likened to the mafia and the yakuza, yet never truly found. The title of its identity is still unknown. She and her confederates traded in hard lollies, running skipping and cart-wheel rings; librarybooknapping organisations had sprung up within their regional chapters. Their iron grip infiltrated daycare centre’s and after school activities. Stand over girls were in every classroom, everywhere. They controlled the mat, and book corner was feared by all. Their global impact being so great that the toy and pencil share market could be crippled with a wink, its impact destroying outside play and colouring for weeks, if not the remainder of a term.
Boys were a daily anathema, treated with malice and without remorse. Those minor monsters, the unwitting stinky boy germ testicled enemy were seen and dealt with without impunity immediate upon identification. The greatest weapon available to the girls of the movement beyond ‘telling the teacher/mum on you’ and ‘ganging up on them’, was the ultimate biological rapier. A weapon so utterly devastating, undetectable as to be a non-existent unknown fist of wrath to any boy and all authoritarian figures and staff rooms alike. Swift and merciless, entirely lethal, and without prevention nor cure .
Enter the ‘Girl Germ’.
The filthy grub of an irrelevant boy died later that night. The school mourned him the following morning, and Tilly’s reputation within the ‘Skort’s Alliance’ grew. The ‘Girl Germ’ proving as swift, deadly and untraceable as always.
In her final primary school year, Tilly was to succeed above all others in the arts of cunning and deception. The resultant ripple effect escalating her to the rank of General (In Rocking Leggings) [G.I.R.L.]. The world was hers and she took it.
I wrote that as a joke about ten months ago, placed it on here, and just stumbled upon this afternoon. My wife works at the local primary school, and it was more for her than anything else. Regardless, click the dark wee picture above, and one of my greatest heroes, Nick Cave, takes it away from there.
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