this is part of a sequence of meta stories and should probably be read in this order:
1. anxiety dream (1June)
2. a cross tick (8 June)
3. life sentence (19 June)
4. lipo-damn!
1. anxiety dream (1June)
2. a cross tick (8 June)
3. life sentence (19 June)
4. lipo-damn!
'So how's it going,' said
Fazackeley, as I sat down with him by the window of the OW, with my
pint of IPA.
'It's going jolly well,' I said.
'On to challenge twenty-eight now.'
'Out of how many?'
'Two to follow then that's it.
And this time – well, let's just say it's good I'm into IPA.'
'Well I thought you intended to be
teetotal in June, on top of the – '
'That went out the window long
ago. Day five I think. I'm just focussing on the challenge now –
that's quite enough. And today's is especially difficult!'
'I've been looking at the blog.
You've been busy! What is the theme today?'
'Complete a fiction without one
specific element of the alphabet.'
'One of the twenty-six, you mean?'
'Yes.'
'O, you mean like that famous
novel that didn't use any 'E's? What do they call it? A liposome?”
'No, that's not it.
Lipo-something. I can't call it to mind at the moment.'
'And which one of the twenty-six
have you chosen to omit?'
'The eighteenth.'
Fazackeley calculated. 'Ah I see.
That's why you've been spelling my name like that!'
'Exactly.'
'And I see why it's a good job you
like IPA then.'
'Yes, most of the hop-based
libations contain the offending item.'
'Guinness would be OK.'
'I hoped you wouldn't notice the
name spelling thing. I can't even use the full name of the pub.'
'I'm in the meta fiction, as you
know, so I notice it all. But OW is fine – we do actually call it
by its initials, instead of that Dublin aesthete's full name, which I
see you couldn't use. And you invented me and my name so it's not an
issue: spell it how you like.'
'I suppose so.' I took a good
swig of my pint.
'No doubt the main thing about
this lipo-thingy is to make it flow quite easily so that someone who
didn't know wouldn't even notice.'
'Yes, that's exactly it. How am I
doing up to now?'
'Lubbish!' He laughed. 'Just
kidding!'
'That's legitimate,' I said.
'Imitating a music hall comedian's dummy.'
Just then Olga came past
collecting glasses. 'Hello mate. Haven't seen you in all week.
How's the genius doing? Is the challenge continuing?'
'Yes almost finished now. It's
the whole month of June.'
'Good job it wasn't a month when
shellfish is in season!' scoffed Fazackeley.
'Why's that?' she said.
'Because today he's attempting a
text without the thing that those months have.'
'O I hope you've put us in it
again! I liked the ones about us!' said Olga.
'So you've been looking at the
blog too?' I said. What do you think?'
'A lot of them have been meta,
haven't they? Which isn't to say that that's a bad thing –'
'Well you can't complain. You
wouldn't exist if this wasn't meta fiction,' scoffed Fazackeley.
'Yes, I suppose so. And today's is
the same again I suppose, given that I'm cleaning tables again.'
'Indeed.'
She leaned in close and spoke
quietly: 'Can I just say something then? How come I'm always just
cleaning tables? It's a bit sexist in this day and age isn't it?'
'O I hadn't thought of that. Do
you think so? I mean it would be odd if the clientèle
did the tables and the staff sat doing nothing. And it gives you a
chance to chat with us.'
'Clientèle?
So posh.'
'Well he can't say the usual name
we'd use of people in a pub.'
'O wait a minute – shellfish
months – can't say such and such – I think I'm getting it now. So
why can't I just sit down today and tell you what I think of the ones
you've penned up to now?'
'Well I suppose you can.'
“Bloody good idea, Olga', said
my companion.
So she pulled out a seat.
Fazackeley went to get us all a pint. 'I'll have an IPA then, I
can't have my usual today', she called as he left, winking at him.
'Why not,' I asked.
'Because of this stupid theme of
today. My tipple has the offending item in its name.'
'O I see what you mean. But don't
call the theme stupid. It might offend the people who manage the
challenge.'
'Well you invented me, didn't you?
You put the thoughts in my head and make the sounds come out of my
mouth. Don't put the blame on me.'
'Yes it's all my fault. This is
when meta fiction gets complicated.'
'When we begin to take on a life
that you hadn't intended. We can you know.'
Fazackeley came back with the
IPAs.
'Who's taking on a life?'
'Us!' said Olga.
'It's all still in his head
though, isn't it?'
'You bet, but he attempts to load
the bad stuff onto us and wash his hands of it! “Don't call the
theme stupid, people might be offended”!'
'He's good at that –
offloading!' said Fazackeley.
'Go on then, keep it up,' I said,
a little peeved. 'Take on a life that I didn't intend. Scoff all you
want.'
'Yes, scoffing. We scoff at you
all the time, all the way back to theme one. That's not a nice way
to explain us to the audience.'
'Not nice at all. It just makes
us look mean and you get all the sympathy. The sad put-upon guy.'
'Go on. Say what you like. It's
fine as long as I get to the end of this piece within the
guidelines.' I began to down my pint fast, hoping to get back home
soon.
But Fazackeley came back at me.
'So go on then: you didn't explain today's theme fully. What was the
subject? You said about the lipo-thing but not the main theme.'
'Lipo-thing?' said Olga, puzzled.
'What lipo-thing? Spell it out fully.'
'Don't ask – it will go badly if
you do.'
'That's all they said: any
subject,' I said to Fazackeley, slightly annoyed. 'Just the
lipo-thing.'
'It's easy then', he scoffed.
'Easy is it? Why don't you have a
go then?'
Olga wouldn't let it go: 'No, come
on, what's this lipo-thing you keep going on about?'
'It's simple, Olga,' said
Fazackeley. 'It means he can just put down any old thing as long as
it doesn't use an R.'
'I know that but –'
'Ooops!'
'GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!'
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