Glasgow kissed soul.

 

Nothing could have prepared him for it.  

“John, what is this place, this time, this now called?”  anger bubbled through Mini like nitrogen into a divers elbow. “John, this place you purport to have spent the last 581 years?  This place you have you have forgotten, quite by accident I am sure, of this place in which, on which perhaps, I stand!!” Double handed Mini casually raise Scallop to chest height, no more threatening pose could he have made.

“Now John, what is the name.  Do tell.”

“It had to ‘appen sooner or later.  This place is called ‘Orain’. I suggest you check your Latin before you poke any more fun at me again.” and stomped off as only a victim of malice then burnt at a stake, and bearing horrible disfigurement with no working knee’s, can do.

+++

She had finally quit swearing.  He had finally started breathing.

As Mini regained consciousness, she leant down close to him once more and began examining his pupils.  Satisfied that both pupils were equal and reactive to light, she opened his mouth to find no sign of cyanosis plus the 12th cranial nerve showed no ill effects.  He displayed no tremors or nausea, although he was still slightly light headed and was feeling peculiarly weakened.  Liv applied a rudimentary stethoscope she produced from somewhere within the folds of her skirt to his chest, then his back.  At last after chest sounds were deemed normal, she instructed Scallop to stop biting Mini, and John to help him up.

“You are very lucky Mini, I thought I had lost you.”

+++

It took them the better part of the night to return to Mini’s flat. Liv joined them for the stroll back.  Along the way she explained the whole ‘death kiss for Mini’ incident. Much to Mini’s well hidden disgust, Liv described the time and era variable theory of reproduction, and was setting out to prove that it was scientifically not only improbably, but totally impossible for humans to reproduce in Orain.

So, in ensuing attempts to prove this conclusive, and the generation of counter measures alleviating future occurrences of pregnancy developing, even though there was yet to be a single reported case of pregnancy, and therefore removing dangers too hideous to consider in a manner so complete that to do so as a deterrence did most definitely occur.  Liv had spent considerable efforts both in the field and in the laboratory to construct the most effective deterrent she possibly could. After some months, and liaising with an international contact, the desired formula had finally been concocted. Being the end of the experimental stage, Liv tried it upon Mini with fabulous results. Instant unconsciousness leading to 2 minutes complete paralysis, and a 4 minute recovery period.  The lipstick she used was a particular colour that enhanced her smile, yet had absolutely no bearing whatsoever on the outcome.

It was by chance a science Professor from the University Of Glasgow that was the ultimate influence.  He was also the recognised authority and leader in a similar field of studies in Scotland and the rest of the world.  Liv honed and perfected it. She took on undergraduates as research assistants, and it was through the availability of the vast number of them available to her, that success was finally had.

Liv, perfected Glasgow’s “Gorbals Kiss”, or better known to lesser mortals throughout the rest of the known world, the unknown world, plus the real and unreal world, as the “Glasgow Kiss”.  Other, sad and limp wristed, titles were utilised in lesser Orain. The “Liverpool Kiss”, once acknowledged and feared the world over lost valuable credibility due to a rather “Fab Four”. Other names or descriptions had been “a face full o’head”, “get ya Ma ter stitch this ya cont!!”, and the list went on. None inspiring the amount of sheer terror the “”Glasgow Kiss” is want to do. This

The headbutt Liv gave Mini was completely painless to herself, and left no mark on her beautiful educated face.  The perfect application.

John had creased himself laughing!!!  He hadn’t seen anything as brilliant as that de Gaulle’s Citroen caught 140 odd rounds in the back window courtesy the OAS in August 1962.  Even the four wheel skid on all shot tires didn’t compare to the “Nut” he just witnessed.

Mini was still trying to figure out if the kiss was from the head or the heart? Or the heart then the head?  Or the head with heart? Beyond that, he had a splitting head ache, and felt like walking back as much as Ned Kelly felt like ducking out the back door of the Glenrowan Hotel.

All he wanted was to get back into his head; back to his flat, and for this night mare to end.  He was in no mood for conversation and particularly no mood for John, and his ongoing barrage of headbutt tale retelling.  Liv hadn’t even looked at him since she figured he wasn’t about to die, and Scallop was now asleep, dangling around her neck like some bazaar living scarf of destruction.  

Sadly, it was the gaze on Scallop that formed the thought.  That thought then formed a second thought, which then formed a series of analytical constructs and destructs.  It then caused way too many thoughts to cope with, very nearly causing heaving sobs and cascading tear to leak embarrassingly from Mini’s eye’s.

+++

The flat was as they left it. Once inside they took advantage of hot running water and soap.  Towels were at a premium, leaving one for LM, and John and Mini to share one between them. From there the John and Mini plonked themselves on the couch and watched absolute crap commercial television.  

Liv on the other hand was having a really good poke around Mini’s flat and all it contained.  She gave particular attention to his collection of stories and late night tales that had been the centre, outer, and the majority of parts somewhere in between for the better part of Mini’s life.

There were recordings on cassettes, cd’s, and  mp3 players. He had multitudinous radio guides with schedules of differing tales, highlighting start and conclusion dates, meticulously filed for later referencing.  Beyond that were book shelves positively brimming with a written copy of everything ever read on the air via France Culture 93.5FM and their quarter past midnight time slot.

Liv picked up what must have been the last one that Mini had been following prior to his move to Orain.  She picked up the radio guide to find “Scallop” highlighted in yellow fluorescent felt tip pen. Somewhat intrigued by the coincidence between that highlighted snippet, and that Mini’s newly acquired ferret is borne of the same name, she started to have a bit more of a sniff around.  

Half an hour later she had found “CC €250” between “charge Ipod” and “Ring Mum ☹“ written on the fridge in what appeared to be left handed Arabic, done with an almost completely dried out whiteboard marker.  The toilet proved somewhat more fruitful. A stack of newspapers roughly half a metre in height, had been left with pages folded open to a page declaring “Scallop” and related articles and advertising. Once she started reading, her fascination began to pique, and she caught herself becoming more and more enthralled in the tale due to the tantalising chance that Louis XVI escaped the guillotine, and where his travels took him.

Being a possessor of a rather brilliant mind, not only being gifted the unique ability of cognitive thought, and to have been the first female to have entered the halls of the Sciences at the University of Paris (founded 1160 – 1170).  This is conjecture however, as she was admitted as trouser wearing, short haired, and awkward Oliver St Jean Melamare. She was able to do this specifically, fortuitously, as she was a late bloomer in all area’s feminine. Being from an old family in Normandy helped also, reducing chance and unexpected meetings with those that could give the game away.  She completed honours, and then a Doctorate which was pushing the boundaries of the disguise as nature had finally caught up with her and endowed her with a body that shamed Venus. She passed with flying colours and fled into obscurity.

So she moved on. In 1897 at 24 years of age and under an assumed name, went on to marry a chap named Harker, who tragically died of blood loss one evening whilst abroad three months later.  She then lived a life off the beaten path, choosing to be a subdued wolf of individuality over life as one of the sheep of mediocrity.

She teamed up with a friend whom she knew from her university days a year or so later.  She, Marie, and Marie’s husband Pierre dabbled in scientific pursuits specific to radioactivity, plus they identified a couple of new elements, but that wasn’t the life Liv wanted.  Liv travelled to Prague, reflected in Bohemia, preached to the natives in Zanzibar, bringing the masses to the Church of Latter Day Satanists as an exercise in naivety without nativity whilst lying to the native, as there was to her knowledge, no such thing as the Church of Latter Day Satanists.  Proving the fruitless nature of mission work in far reaching worlds.

At 27 Olivia St. John Melamare returned to France, and returned to science.  Most recently, there were one or two incidents which went on to cause somewhat of a cloud over her.

Coincidentally it was the same time she met Mini.

 

Click the picture above. The Smiths and London should follow.

 

 

N.

 

(+61) 0418393742 – text only

editor@therebemonstershere.com

All posts and associated intellectual properties regards ‘therebemonstershere.com’ remain ©The World Turned Upside Down.

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