A Diabolic Plan: Speakeasy #167


Abel Spinkick and his brother Sam were up to no good. They were usually up to no good. But this time they had outdone themselves. Sam had hatched a plan, a diabolic plan to rule the world and have some fun. He had enlisted the help of his brother, Abel, to pull it off. It was Abel who had stolen Mr. Nguyen’s keys and, with some difficulty had even managed to procure the two iguanas that would be vital to their success.  He was also tasked with hiring other extras to make sure Stinky Elwood fell for it – hook, line, and sinker.

Susie and Ivy had played their parts to perfection and Stinky appeared to have been completely taken in. By god, it was going to work. Soon they would be richer than they could ever have dared to hope. But then the chimpanzees decided to take matters into their own hands and it all began to fall apart. The chimps, of course, thought that they had a better plan.

“I told you not to hire those fuckin’ monkeys,” Sam yelled at Abel. “They just can’t take direction. You were supposed to get camels or cows, not fuckin’ monkeys! The monkeys have already released the moths and you can tell Elwood is starting to have doubts. It’s too early for the moths to be out. Camels and cows don’t have thumbs; they would never have been able to open the jar. Monkey’s got thumbs; they didn’t have no trouble getting the lid off the jar.”

“You didn’t give me enough money to hire camels.” Abel screamed back at him, a fine mist of spittle droplets forming, like a cloud in front of his mouth. “I could barely afford the monkeys, but they needed the job bad. They were willing to work cheap. This whole screw up is your fault. You were in charge of financing. You obviously didn’t raise enough money.”

The two brothers continued to yell and scream at each other for the better part of an hour, each of them blaming the other for the failure of their master plan. Slowly the office door opened inward and Murray, the monkey’s agent, stuck his head around. “Boys, boys, cool down. Sorry things didn’t work out according to plan but I need to get a cheque from youse guys now.”

“A cheque,” Sam yelled. “Fat chance, Murray. Your clients screwed the pooch when they let the moths out too early. We couldn’t fool Elwood, we aren’t having much fun, and we probably aren’t going to be able to rule the world either, and it’s all their fault for changing the plan. I’m not giving those fuckin’ monkeys a dime!”

Murray pushed the door open wide. There must have been a hundred chimps standing in the hall behind him. “Screw you monkeys,” Sam yelled, the tendons standing out on his neck and his face redder than a baboon butt.

The primates moved like a tide into the office shared by Sam and Abel Spinkick. Slowly, deliberately they fell upon the brothers. That was a long time ago, Abel can sit up and feed himself these days. But Sam was never the same again.

What’s Your Sign?: Gargleblaster #167

She clutches the letter to her breast, and hurries back up the walk. The envelope, dropped and forgotten, blows down the lane, lodging against the signpost in Mrs. Carmichael’s yard.

“Mom?” she calls.

Her mother turns, a lock of hair tumbles free.


I’m just along for the ride this week but I somehow managed to snag the “Hitchhiker’s Prize”  How cool is that?

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