The Saga of Karbuncus (Part II)

“Treat them like filth and they think you’re the greatest – show them any signs of affection and they think you are weak” (anon)

The saga rolls on - 'tis the night of Ye Olde Year's Eve... the BIG night - DJ Spookie van der Spy has come to town and everyone who is anyone arrives at Klub Der Gore to witness and partake in the auspicious occasion of seeing 2011 out and 2012 in, a year that could hold many exciting possibilities for Karbuncus but also a year of extreme uncertainty what with rumours of raptures, Mayan calendar End times predictions, world economic collapse and great famines... and of course global warming, not to mention a few nukes here and there. But back in the idle hamlet of Wallowville the inhabitants have not a care in the world right now because DJ Spookie's set the pace for an awesome party with much mirth and ecstacy and merriment... or so Karbunkus has led himself to believe.

"Jeez man just check this out! - here comes Hettie du Toit!"

She's all hotted up in a silk pale grey mini, peroxided hair raging wild, replete with Red Square fragrances wafting off her that set the boys ablaze with great fires of passion and Karbunkus feverishly navigates his way through the nightclub entrance thinking he’s donning the suave cool of a seasoned Casanova and he's scheming, "This chick Hettie she's mine tonight, all mine, me gonna eat her for hamster-burger takeaway-homies tonight heh heh heh heh..." - and Karbuncus cuts a clean vector onto the dance floor with disco lights a-flashing as he slides into Hettie's aura, shades of John Travolta moves and swirls migrating about in his head - but alas from Hettie no response. Nothing, bugger all.

"Christ man the bitch won't take her eyes off the fucking DJ WTF to do now?" he ponders to himself in dismay.

* * *

But Karbuncus has another plan up his sleeve - and in his loins. The church cemetery.

"Gotta get her to come with me to the cemetery damn..."

(to be continued)