A surreal and comic chapter where Bullet, shaken and half-delirious, stumbles between reality and hallucination while searching for meaning, love, and escape...
Welcome to the serialized story of Mr. Harmless Bullet! For the audio version - scroll down. Genre: satire, absurdist comedy, adult humor (16+)
My father once told me, "When you hit rock bottom, Bullet, there is no place to go but UP.”
It’s been a difficult time, but I was determined to continue living to the fullest, despite all the pain and horrors of the past hours. That’s why I felt proud to stand upright after hanging upside down from the tree. All sorts of thoughts invaded my mind, but each time I came back to one - perhaps, the most important: Where’s my Sobekneferu? Would I ever find her? Is she dreaming of me as I dream of her? And what is love?
I read somewhere that love (any kind of love) has its stages. It begins with adoration, turns to longing, then slowly shifts to attachment and finally to a union. You can’t even imagine how often I dreamed of it on cold, lonely nights in my small studio in RSA-city.
My mother, instead, always told me that love (any kind and at any stage) was a trap, and that’s why she ended up with my spineless, uninspiring, and always-satisfied-with-so-little father — she was deceived, lured into that perfect idyllic union...
I played along - an advocate of the “love is a trap” doctrine. In reality, I was non compos mentis, and the only sanity was my hope of finding Sobekneferu—the joy, the stream of life, that would push my disastrous sexual experiences upward.
I sighed, turned to the left, and started to walk when I heard a soft splash of water. I hid behind the trees, waiting until the beauty turned her face to the shore. It was the sheriff. What's going on???
She shone in a strange, dim light—sole perfection! Her skin looks too damn good for a woman who’s been dead for almost a month, I said to myself. Her breasts showed zero signs of decomposition, too.
At first, I got angry, then frightened, and after a couple of seconds, frustrated. Did it stop me from walking out of my hiding spot when I saw her in the morning light, swimming in that lake?
No. Hardly.
I crawled to the shore (much faster than you’d expect from a damaged man like me)... I knew it was the so-much-awaited step UP in my arduous journey. I believed it was the moment of establishing contact with the otherworld (where I was the real human, made of bones and flesh, and she was something else —the beast and fiend).
Because of the increased speed and the sand in my eyes, I bumped into the stone and… what do you think? Yes! I dropped into the same pool of blood from Madame Jack, which I had escaped just minutes ago...
I got up and slammed my fist into a nearby tree in anger. The pain sobered my senses. I made a brave decision to leave Gunung Kinabalu for good and get back to my city — to heal, lick my wounds, and speak with my mother. But destiny, as always, made another decision.
According to the second assistant, Ms. Break de Roof, she found me in an absolute “cuckoo state.” I was so scared and shaken that she decided to knock me down again. Then, she hung me in the same spot (she needed more time to think about what to do with me and to determine if I really was Mr. Harmless or some freak from Beluga Clan).
Ms. Break de Roof told me later that I spoke of the dead sheriff while unconscious. I swore that I saw her swimming in the lake while she rode a snake and carried a torch, one in each of her six hands. I was so paranoid that even the wonderful second assistant appeared with three heads: the first was human and pretty; the second belonged to Madam Jack; and the third to the Egyptian ape-headed Thoth. Or, probably, I had psychic abilities and could finally see her true nature?
When I calmed down a little, Ms. Break de Roof informed me of the latest changes in the kingdom: the revolution, the division of the territory, Ms. Vegas’s escape, the disappearance of box #9, and the change of the local king and queen. It seemed that my ex-wife, Martha, and Mr. Bip SoBeIt now ruled a large part of the kingdom - the so-called Prudent Village. Anthony Lee Phillips got the minor part of the clinic and the surrounding territory.
I was too tired to listen, so I clung to her feet and folded my trembling hands, repeating, “I want to go home; please, take me home...” Her next move was unexpected (or maybe I didn’t need much at that stage). Ms. Break de Roof smiled and showed me the puffy side of her untrimmed temple. I admit, it touched my heart: I slathered my majestic sword, awaiting a massive, ear-splitting attack from the second assistant.
Our joyful dance was seen by two passing guards: Medusa and Jellywobble. They were so shocked that they tied us up and delivered us to the palace.
There, my ex-wife, dressed in a long gown made of the dead banteng and a crown full of gold needles, announced, “It’s my duty as Queen of The Prudent Village to caution you, Mr. Harmless. Our new laws forbid sexual encounters outside of the house.”
“What?” I gasped.
“Our new laws treat stealing bacteriophages as a severe crime, too. If you tell me privately where you hid box #9, I’ll let you live, Mr. Harmless.”
“Good heavens! Martha, it’s me… your ex-husband, Bullet. What’s the…?”
“My name is Martha Antoinette Louise Diamantis SoBeIt! And by the law of the Prudent Village, you should…” my ex-wife yelled.
“Okay, okay, Martha Antoinette Louise Diamantis SoBeIt, whatever… I don’t have it. Put it in capital letters if you wish! To steal is not my style at all. And you know me, I am an honest man!” I replied, still angry.
“You have the time to find it,” she paused. “Until 4 pm this afternoon.”
“What time is it now?” I asked impatiently.
“Three-fifty-eight. Time is ticking… What are you waiting for? Go!”
I saw a tall, bearded man in a long white robe at the other end of the room. He began to sing a prayer in a high-pitched voice. I tried to hide under the dining table, behind curtains, and in the bathtub, but nothing helped. The clock struck three-fifty-nine!
I dived through the iron door, rushed along the wet corridor, and ran into the room, which, as it turned out, was the Royal Kitchen. An almost invisible silhouette leaned over a huge saucepan and stirred something with a wooden spoon. On the table, by a saucepan, stood box #9. A sigh of relief left my chest… and then the clock struck 4 pm.
Mathilde Kschessinska didn’t just dance for the Romanovs - she moved straight through their bedrooms, their revolutions, and their collapse. Ballerina, mistress, exile and teacher, she outlived the empire that made and nearly destroyed her.
This post is a humorous, science-informed guide to “cleaning” your overloaded brain by cutting junk inputs, dealing with toxic relationships, and simplifying your inner narrative.
Welcome to the serialized story of Mr. Harmless Bullet! For the audio version - scroll down. Genre: satire, absurdist comedy, adult humor (16+)
Written with the Tristan Tzara method - read about it here
Complete story, chapter by chapter:
CHAPTER 37. BETWEEN THE ROADS.
My father once told me, "When you hit rock bottom, Bullet, there is no place to go but UP.”
It’s been a difficult time, but I was determined to continue living to the fullest, despite all the pain and horrors of the past hours. That’s why I felt proud to stand upright after hanging upside down from the tree. All sorts of thoughts invaded my mind, but each time I came back to one - perhaps, the most important: Where’s my Sobekneferu? Would I ever find her? Is she dreaming of me as I dream of her? And what is love?
I read somewhere that love (any kind of love) has its stages. It begins with adoration, turns to longing, then slowly shifts to attachment and finally to a union. You can’t even imagine how often I dreamed of it on cold, lonely nights in my small studio in RSA-city.
My mother, instead, always told me that love (any kind and at any stage) was a trap, and that’s why she ended up with my spineless, uninspiring, and always-satisfied-with-so-little father — she was deceived, lured into that perfect idyllic union...
I played along - an advocate of the “love is a trap” doctrine. In reality, I was non compos mentis, and the only sanity was my hope of finding Sobekneferu—the joy, the stream of life, that would push my disastrous sexual experiences upward.
I sighed, turned to the left, and started to walk when I heard a soft splash of water. I hid behind the trees, waiting until the beauty turned her face to the shore. It was the sheriff. What's going on???
She shone in a strange, dim light—sole perfection! Her skin looks too damn good for a woman who’s been dead for almost a month, I said to myself. Her breasts showed zero signs of decomposition, too.
At first, I got angry, then frightened, and after a couple of seconds, frustrated. Did it stop me from walking out of my hiding spot when I saw her in the morning light, swimming in that lake?
No. Hardly.
I crawled to the shore (much faster than you’d expect from a damaged man like me)... I knew it was the so-much-awaited step UP in my arduous journey. I believed it was the moment of establishing contact with the otherworld (where I was the real human, made of bones and flesh, and she was something else —the beast and fiend).
Because of the increased speed and the sand in my eyes, I bumped into the stone and… what do you think? Yes! I dropped into the same pool of blood from Madame Jack, which I had escaped just minutes ago...
I got up and slammed my fist into a nearby tree in anger. The pain sobered my senses. I made a brave decision to leave Gunung Kinabalu for good and get back to my city — to heal, lick my wounds, and speak with my mother. But destiny, as always, made another decision.
According to the second assistant, Ms. Break de Roof, she found me in an absolute “cuckoo state.” I was so scared and shaken that she decided to knock me down again. Then, she hung me in the same spot (she needed more time to think about what to do with me and to determine if I really was Mr. Harmless or some freak from Beluga Clan).
Ms. Break de Roof told me later that I spoke of the dead sheriff while unconscious. I swore that I saw her swimming in the lake while she rode a snake and carried a torch, one in each of her six hands. I was so paranoid that even the wonderful second assistant appeared with three heads: the first was human and pretty; the second belonged to Madam Jack; and the third to the Egyptian ape-headed Thoth. Or, probably, I had psychic abilities and could finally see her true nature?
When I calmed down a little, Ms. Break de Roof informed me of the latest changes in the kingdom: the revolution, the division of the territory, Ms. Vegas’s escape, the disappearance of box #9, and the change of the local king and queen. It seemed that my ex-wife, Martha, and Mr. Bip SoBeIt now ruled a large part of the kingdom - the so-called Prudent Village. Anthony Lee Phillips got the minor part of the clinic and the surrounding territory.
I was too tired to listen, so I clung to her feet and folded my trembling hands, repeating, “I want to go home; please, take me home...” Her next move was unexpected (or maybe I didn’t need much at that stage).
Ms. Break de Roof smiled and showed me the puffy side of her untrimmed temple. I admit, it touched my heart: I slathered my majestic sword, awaiting a massive, ear-splitting attack from the second assistant.
Our joyful dance was seen by two passing guards: Medusa and Jellywobble. They were so shocked that they tied us up and delivered us to the palace.
There, my ex-wife, dressed in a long gown made of the dead banteng and a crown full of gold needles, announced, “It’s my duty as Queen of The Prudent Village to caution you, Mr. Harmless. Our new laws forbid sexual encounters outside of the house.”
“What?” I gasped.
“Our new laws treat stealing bacteriophages as a severe crime, too. If you tell me privately where you hid box #9, I’ll let you live, Mr. Harmless.”
“Good heavens! Martha, it’s me… your ex-husband, Bullet. What’s the…?”
“My name is Martha Antoinette Louise Diamantis SoBeIt! And by the law of the Prudent Village, you should…” my ex-wife yelled.
“Okay, okay, Martha Antoinette Louise Diamantis SoBeIt, whatever… I don’t have it. Put it in capital letters if you wish! To steal is not my style at all. And you know me, I am an honest man!” I replied, still angry.
“You have the time to find it,” she paused. “Until 4 pm this afternoon.”
“What time is it now?” I asked impatiently.
“Three-fifty-eight. Time is ticking… What are you waiting for? Go!”
I saw a tall, bearded man in a long white robe at the other end of the room. He began to sing a prayer in a high-pitched voice. I tried to hide under the dining table, behind curtains, and in the bathtub, but nothing helped. The clock struck three-fifty-nine!
I dived through the iron door, rushed along the wet corridor, and ran into the room, which, as it turned out, was the Royal Kitchen. An almost invisible silhouette leaned over a huge saucepan and stirred something with a wooden spoon. On the table, by a saucepan, stood box #9. A sigh of relief left my chest… and then the clock struck 4 pm.
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