Story 01:Having dined on a selection of cold meats with mustard followed by a cold rice pudding, Mr. Alfred Higgins Esq. pushed himself back from the table, belched lightly into his napkin and addressed his wife...
"Mrs. Higgins, I feel the breath of the muse upon my soul and must exercise my talent..."
Mrs. Higgins stared at her uneaten rice pudding feeling that familiar rising unease that inevitably followed her husband's now all-too-frequent announcement...
"Must you, Mr. Higgins?" she implored, her fragile composure in danger of shattering at any moment...
"Mrs. Higgins. You know I am unable to control the beast once I have heard its cry."
"Now be so kind as to draw the curtains firmly shut so we may begin..."
Ever the dutiful wife, Mrs. Higgins went about her allotted task whilst Mr. Higgins fished about in his undershirt for the bunch of keys that unlocked the gateway to his personal paradise...
His hands trembled slightly, beads of perspiration formed on his brow...
Reaching under the sideboard Mr. Higgins withdrew a sinister elongated black leather-bound case..
Mrs. Higgins, unbidden, covered the photo of her long dead mother with an antimacassar from the best armchair and offered up a silent prayer for her own salvation...
Mr. Higgins, his eyes popping, the veins on his forehead bulging horribly, unlocked the case, flipped the clasps, threw open the lid, grasped hold of his foul instrument, turned to his wife and said with a leer, "what's it be tonight then Mrs. Higgins..?"
"Every Friday night the same" Mrs. Higgins thought, "Every Friday night the same..."
Then her suppressed rage burst its banks, gushing forth, uncontrollable, unstoppable, the words tumbling over each other in a tirade of unbridled disgust...
"Why don't you shove your filthy banjo up your arse...!"
Story 02Dr. Sebag Mayberry-Quinn, natural philosopher, was a driven man...
How long had he been here alone in his laboratory...?
Allowing no natural light to penetrate his fevered labouring the interminable progression of night and day had long since ceased to influence his world. He no longer had cognisance of either...
He was close now, he was so very close...
Dr. Sebag Mayberry-Quinn took stock of his eldritch industry, the product of many years of work stood before him. Half a beaker of foul smelling green fluid...
Screwing his courage to the sticking place, Dr. Sebag Mayberry-Quinn lifted the draught to his lips and supped deeply then waited, waited and waited...
Five minutes elapsed, nothing... nothing at all...
Dashing the beaker to the ground he swore vigourously then, like a far off messenger running toward him at great speed, he felt a rising sensation overtake his sensibilities. A vast, overwhelming tide of horror ripped through his every fibre and sinew, his mouth sprang open, let out an inhuman guttural bellowing roar and he collapsed to the floor writhing in agony...
Darkness fell suddenly on the mind of Dr. Sebag Mayberry-Quinn and he was still...
An hour later two red-rimmed eyes opened and took unblinking stock of their surroundings yet registered no recognition. The creature that emerged from the tattered remains of Dr. Sebag Mayberry-Quinn's clothing stood up, shook itself violently then stumbled toward the full-length mirror behind the door and stared and stared...
There was a moments uneasy stillness then pandemonium..!
The creature careened and whirled about the laboratory smashing equipment and furniture in a fit of incandescent rage...
The door to the lab opened tentatively and the head of Mrs. Hilda Ingham, the doctor's housekeeper, poked through and surveyed the scene of destruction with mouth gaping alarm....
"Wot on 'erf is a going on 'ere?" she cried.. She caught sight of the beast, now stood atop the bookcase.... "Good 'eavens! 'Ow did you get in 'ere?" In one swift movement she was across the room and had the creature by the neck....
"There'll be 'ell to pay when the Doctor gets back an' no mistake." " Ow am I gonna explain a chicken getting loose an' a wrecking 'is room...?" "Still it be easier explained over a nice roast chicken I'll wager..."
Dr. Sebag Mayberry-Quinn, natural philosopher, swinging limply from his housekeeper's stout hand, let out a forlorn 'cluck'...
