Thursday, 2 April 2015

Epipod Three: The Shunned Sandwich (no egg)




It has always seemed to me that my existence consisted purely and exclusively of nothing but the most outrageous nonsense. 
- Thomas ‘Laughing Boy’ Ligotti

Me:  The Rats in the Walls?

Him:  The walls were full of rats, remember?

Me:  Yeah, yeah.

Him:  “I can smell them!  I’m going to have to shut this shop down, it’s full of rats!”

Me:  It was probably just builders next door, I didn’t mean to frighten the poor person.  So, any titles there you think we can cannibalise or cobble together or do you want to come up with a new one?  ‘cause we can’t just call this, ‘The Trap Door and Other Weird Tales’.

Him:  The Unnameable  In the Vault

Me:  I dunno.

Him:  The Horror at Fang Rock

Me:  The Horror at Fang Rock’?  That’s been done, I think.

Him:  Sorry, I misread it.  It’s The Horror at Red Hook.

Me:  Ummm…

Him:  The Colour Out of Space

Me:  That’s a good un.  Unless we mash two of them together?

Him:  What?  Like ‘The Call of Pickman’s Model’?

Me:  We could do that, yeah.

Him:  I meant like that, I didn’t mean that.

Me:  No.

The sea badger makes its squamous way across the room, ruining the carpet.

Him:  The Shunned Sandwich’?

Me:  Ha!  The Shunned Sandwich’!

Him:  The Shunned House and The Dunwich Horror.  Or Dunwich.

Me:  It’s Dunwich.

Him:  Dunwich.  I’ve never been there, so I don’t know.

Me:  It’s twinned with Rhyl.

Him:  Really?

Me:  Ha!  No.

Him:  It’s a shame that it’s not The Shunned Sandwich.  I’d have liked that.

Me:  Shall we call it that? 

Him:  Yeah, alright. 

Me:  The Shunned Sandwich.  That’s our intro.




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