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It being the height of summer, Count Donnerstag chose from his armoire a 7-piece suit of the lightest worsted cashmere.
"Ooogar," he said, consulting the thermoscope near the threshold of his wilting chamber, "25.8 degrees Rømer! What Adriatic jugo has invaded our fair clime? Small wonder I felt a premonition of unwonted vagueness yesterdusk!"
He removed his jewskin gloves, stepped out into brutal sunlight, and headed for the rialto, which, despite the Illyrian heat, was an intolerable crush.
"Uncivilized Magyar!" the Count bellowed, raising his pilgrim's staff and striking down an urchin where he stood.
"Pre-hellenized Dalmatian!" he cried, elbowing aside a ragged lazar.
Thus provoked, the Count doubled over, touched the cobblestones with one hand, and broke into an ungainly three-legged canter, spurring himself on with merciless glutial wallops from his own cane. Part though it would before this one-man phalanx, no chances could be taken with the rialto's renownedly madding crowd; Donnerstag belched out a series of uncanny shrieks and yawps to startle the gentry from their mercantile reveries.
"GREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!" he shouted. "QUAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"
In no time, he gained his intended destination, the Tyrian nectar merchant's stall, where, across a five-deep mob, he shouted out his usual greeting:
"A yard of warm date broth, you unreformed thalassocrat!"
Date Written: August 07, 2005
Author: qualcomm
Average Vote: 3.9
Comments:
08/9/2005 Dylan Danko (2): You've got to be kidding me.
08/9/2005 The Rid: Uh...
08/9/2005 Mr. Pony: I can't say that I enjoyed reading this masturbatory balderdash, but I get the sense that the author had quite a bit of fun writing this, probably laughing out loud several times; and in the end, isn't that all that counts?
08/9/2005 Will Disney: QUAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!
08/9/2005 anonymous: LLLLLLLLCOOOOOOMMMMM!
08/9/2005 Ewan Snow (5): I thought this was just fine. Considering it's the oldest form of short, this manages to take that cliché a step further in several directions, an accomplishment not to be underestimated. Bravo! Four stars plus one to honor the god whose staff this is.
08/9/2005 Streifenbeuteldachs (4): Roald Dahl meets James Joyce? Anyhoo, I learned a new word today - thalassocrat - and that's all that matters.
08/9/2005 Jon Matza: Don't want to ruffle anyone's throat cancer but this seems positively Lewisian--in diction & milieu, anyhow. Take a look if you don't believe me.
08/9/2005 TheBuyer: Oogar!
08/9/2005 anonymous: i (qualcomm) would argue that the so-called lewisian diction and milieu were already well-established before lewis ever published a short here. as ewan indicated, it's maybe the oldest genre in the short book. not that i'm calling ripoff. i'm just saying.
08/9/2005 Ewan Snow: I'm calling rip-off. Oldest one in the book.
08/9/2005 Mr. Pony: I'd don't know that I'd go so far as to call this short a rip-off.
08/9/2005 TheBuyer: Pony, I'm calling rip-off on that last comment.
08/9/2005 TheBuyer (4.5): Sorry, I interrupted, please carry on.
08/9/2005 Kenji X: Christ if this isn't QC I'll spear my own asshole with damp broccoli. I would have played but you took all the bets and I wans't able to have any fun?
08/9/2005 Kenji X: Christ if this isn't QC I'll spear my own asshole with damp broccoli. I would have played but you took all the bets and I wasn't able to have any fun?
08/9/2005 Kenji X (4): Wait a minute, "jewskin gloves"? Holy shit, did I miss that?
08/10/2005 qualcomm: this short used to go on a bit longer. for your amusement, here's the original last few grafs:
No sooner had this utterance left his lips, though, than Donnerstag spied a familiar face at the end of the quay.
"My accountant!" he said.
The Count dove into the crowd and headed toward his associate, employing the "Prussian wedge" technique that had just proven so successful.
"Where did you hide my velvet tablecloths?" he cried, striking the old man behind the knees with his infinitely useful staff. "Who is the Hapsburgian matador?" he shrieked, bashing in at the bridge his now prostrate victim's nose.
"Please, sir, whoever you are, I know not what you--"
"What is the specific gravity of sloth?" the Count continued, collapsing the gaffer's voicebox with one deft jab. "Why do I salivate prior to the release of my reproductive humors? Why?! Why?!"
08/10/2005 Mr. Pony: Yes, yes; thank goodness you cut those lines; they added nothing to the general flow of the story.
08/10/2005 Mr. Pony: Retardo.
08/10/2005 Kenji X: If I gave an extra star it would lower the rating. WTF? Extra star, for including and not including.
08/10/2005 qualcomm: kenji, what does that comment mean?
08/10/2005 Retardo: RETARDO
08/10/2005 Kenji X: I'd give this a one star vote to add to my previous vote, like so.
08/10/2005 Kenji X: I'd give this a one star vote to add to my previous vote, like so.
08/10/2005 Kenji X: But see, voting twice won't work, something I didn't know. So what I'm saying is that I liked what was cut, and I liked the fact that it was cut. So I was awarding you another star for this dreck in a hypothetical manner, because it is my whimsy to do so, and because I am all fucked up on stupid pills today.