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In Any Misadventure: Fragments of Post WWII Novelette, Dirty Pictures

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Fragments of Post WWII Novelette, Dirty Pictures


Furious Blur


The squiggly, looping-rollercoaster scrawl that seemed to metastasize in the thin boundary of the margins like unnecessary PC small talk at garish English Department Christmas parties infuriated him. Not for the girly looking, big buttery letters, but for their inscrutability he was wrapped in a loathing. He hated that. Loathing, that is. Loathing penetrated the surface of things, the skin, the cortex, the content. Professor Norton Tick preferred the surface elements, the glossy, exited page of his life and work. It was a library book for Christ’s sake. With a vigor that matched only one other activity conducted in the after-hours privacy of his office, he rotated narrative-1the unsharpened No.2 pencil he had been wiggling on its center axis between his first and middle fingers to begin the process of erasure. Now pinched between his thumb and first finger, the pencil became a darting hummingbird, a furious blur of de-scription that would take him well past that day’s midnight and beyond. [1. This passage is meant to be enjoyed with a decent bottle of red and sea-salted cashews. Drafted for publication in The Digest of American Letters circa 1938, it instead served as the background material for the male lead in Hot Librarians 2: Late Night Returns. The original manuscript was found encoded in the DNA of the deceased ‘80s porn star, Serendipity, after investigators cited foul play and called for an exhumation of the body. The Los Angeles coroner’s office revealed the encoding had been passed on like a vestigial gnomic anomaly from sundry writers, directors, and producers—all unfortunately deceased. HL2 claims much of its allure and thematic intent to Dirty Pictures.]

Nothing in the Centerfold but a Staple


434D-22-33 was not a fully matriculated student at Hedgeington University, ranked somewhere in the triple digits by World News and Reports. She has earned her tentative place as an undergraduate by winning the New England All Cheer for a Win Cheerleading competition. A partial scholarship and she was in. Or, almost in. Another little known and curious fact about 34D was that she was fascinated by the cosmos. More precisely, she was inadvertently drawn to the one metaphysical question that occupies even the most mundane of minds; namely, did she possess a soul and if so, was that soul hers or was it on loan to her. Her life up to this point has been an indeterminate effort to be a life that equated with an idea of which she
had no proof. She thought once a photographer might help to capture her soul and so allowed herself to be photographed. Being sightless, she was not, however, aware that her centerfold was pierced with a staple in precisely the spot where her belly button should like a star have twinkled. Although it nicely complemented her piercing, suffice it to say the rude prong muddled the entire composition. As such, no soul could be discerned;though she received a number of rather licentious letters attesting to what could be seen. Beyond this factual criteria of her life, 34D also ate hotdogs…raw from the package. [2.  As close as scholars can determine (and to encourage the correct degree of misprision), this second installation follows from the preceding as part two of 34D-22-33’s seduction. A number of faux films and graphic novels emerged on the scene following the release of this best-selling short all claiming to feature a female lead with bodily proportions corresponding exactly to 34D’s. No such claims were ever validated despite the number of measuring contests hosted by the avant-garde film company, Backroom Pictures. Including the hotdogs, there are no pertinent metaphors in this passage.]

Rhetorical Love Affair


3As luck would have it, thought Norton, a silly phrase he thought again, rubbing his sore index finger along the Number #2 Pencil inscription etched into one arbitrary side of the school-bus yellow hexagon. For what would luck have? A one in four chance, he decided, arbitrarily. He took it and, as luck would have it, 34D-22-33 was just rounding the corner to his office. He pushed his door ajar and noted this strange creature flitting back and forth from one office door to the next. At each stop, she caressed (or what Norton fantasized was caressing) the brass plaque affixed just to the left of each door. Humming bird, he thought. Lost. When she reached his door, her heart was pounding at a rate well over two hundred beats per second. Her hand ascended to Norton’s plaque. A love affair was quite possibly about to begin. Then she cheeped out, “Not n ick.” Without the slightest hesitation, and much to her surprise, he corrected her, “Norton Tick.” Startled by his voice, 34D darted back (Humming bird). “Then someone has rather perniciously removed those letters—dots—from your plaque.” As this foreplay had reached its climacteric summit, she said, “I’m 34D-22-33. I see with my hands.” One in four chance, thought Not n ick, and welcomed her inside. [3.  The Rhetorical Love Affair, first featured in Best American Stories, 1945 to 1955, was subsequently band by an emerging right-wing group advertising itself as Folks of the Family. The case almost made it to the Supreme Court when a little known pre-1970s pornographic film company hired the actual 34D-22-33 to play in the pilot, Deeper Exhilarations. She was blind and told, then, by competent medical authorities that her erogenous zone was oddly located where her Uvula (or “Little Grape”) should be. As it was, 34D was born with sleep apnea and, as such, suffered from long unendurable bouts of insomnia brought on by persistent and debilitating orgasms.].

Genesis Narrative: Dénouement


She seemed to touch everything as if the surface of objects, the leather arms of the chair, the chilled glass of water, Tick’s pamphlet on Rhetorical Structures in Postmodern War Poetry: a Desacralization of Content and the Contraption of Meaning conveyed everything she needed. “What can I do for you?” Tick asked. 34D made a frustrated effort to adjust her Cheerleader’s skirt; however, much to her chagrin, no amount of pulling kept it from receding just above her knees. “I was looking for the Metaphysical Department.” Tick could not relinquish the thought of his #2 pencil. “I’d like to fully matriculate but am not certain I can.” Tick was admittedly lost. “And you’re a philosophy major?” Tick spat the word philosophy like it was a bad oyster. “No. Not exactly. I’m uncertain of my soul and don’t always feel completely….” She hesitated. “Here,” she said. 34D continued to shift her 34D-22-33 body uncomfortably in the chair and in and out of her uniform. It was at this point that Tick rathe unconsciously and by accident snapped narrative-2his #2 pencil. “What was that?” asked 34D. “It was nothing….”

“Sounded like my bra when I let go of the strap, which I often do like a rubber band to confirm I am still here.” 34D then proceeded without the slightest hesitation to demonstrate the activity when all of the sudden….[4.  Just so there’s no misunderstanding, this is a fictional account of true-to-life porn stars (34D and Nick the Dick) who meet under the obvious pretexts for which the porn industry is widely/well known and proceed to engage in a rather wonderful love affair that manifested itself on and off the set of Hedgeington University. Hedgeington was, as everyone knows, founded by Folks of the Family (FoTF), who were all later (circa 2001) condemned by Folks FOR the Family (FFTF) as a duplicitous front for porn’s first and most prestigious production company, In The Dark Productions (aka, ID Productions or I-DP), whose CEO (and Rhode Scholar) was the first born son of 34D and Nick the Dick. The last curious fact ever published about Dr. Peter Tick suggests that he was born under no charted stars and, as such, lived a rather insouciant life under no known Zodiacal parallel.]