By theseustoo
Loreen just ‘happened’ to be waiting for Swannee as he came off duty for his lunch-break; a creature of habit, he always sat at the same table. She sat down opposite him just as he seated himself and he thought it would be impolite to reject her company by moving to another table; Swannee was nothing if not a gentleman.
He smiled politely at Loreen and hoped she wasn’t going to make ‘small talk’… he wasn’t much good at small talk. Quickly he filled his mouth strategically with a piece of steak large enough to choke a saltwater crocodile and set to work chewing on it, looking all around the room as he did so in order to avoid having to look, and perhaps appear to stare, at Loreen or her remarkable cleavage, which she seemed to be perpetually inclined to display to its best advantage by leaning forward at just the right angle… But in any case, he thought to himself, why bother with hamburger here when there’s fillet steak at home. He knew the girls liked to tease him because of his unlikely reputation for marital fidelity; yet they always found he was easily able to resist all their teasing, no matter how provocative; if he even deigned to notice it at all.
While he was looking around the busy canteen, however, he failed to notice the small gelatin capsule that Loreen dropped into his black coffee, or even that she added sugar and stirred it for him.
Loreen then waited patiently as Swannee chewed his steak and eggs with chips and salad; stopping only occasionally to take a swig of coffee. As he finished his meal he realized three things, firstly that he no longer had any excuse to avoid talking to Loreen; secondly that he no longer wished to avoid looking at her cleavage and thirdly that the latter no longer reminded him of camping holidays in the hills with the cricket team. Another realization was a certain stirring in his loins and an irresistible urge… Loreen saw the look of unadulterated lust on Swannee’s face and merely smiled provocatively, leaning forward as far as she could, and said, “Hellooooooo… tiger!”
Ignoring his apple pie and ice-cream desert Swannee lunged forward at the delectable strumpet he now saw in front of his fevered eyes; he grabbed Loreen’s hand and dragged her away from the prying eyes of the rest of the canteen’s customers and through the kitchen, right past the astonished chefs and kitchen-hands, and into the large pantry at the rear of the kitchen, slamming the door shut behind them as he impaled her against the pantry wall…
***** ******* *****
Harry the ambulance-man pushed Catherine, on a gurney, into the staff canteen, but there was no sign of her husband there at all, although strange noises seemed to be coming from the direction of the kitchen. Never one for standing on protocol, Catherine hopped down off the gurney and hobbled towards the kitchen, in spite of Harry’s protests.
“Don’t worry Harry; I’ve been through this often enough before; I’ll know when it’s gonna pop!” Dubiously Harry let her go, but followed closely.
Strange noises, Catherine discovered, were indeed coming from the direction of the pantry at the rear of the kitchen… it almost sounded as if someone were in labor inside the pantry… curiosity kept her going now as she tentatively opened the pantry door, but the sight that met her eyes stopped her in her tracks.
It took her quite a long moment to assimilate the sight of her husband’s rear elevation, naked from the waist down apart from his socks, pounding into some tart whose fishnet-stockinged legs were still wrapped around his own legs and thrusting insistently. When the moment of assimilation had finally allowed her brain to comprehend what was actually happening she acted immediately, intuitively and instinctively:
Before she had settled down with Swannee, Catherine had toured Europe with Billy Smart’s Circus as the main attraction in a knife-throwing act. Her act’s novelty was that whilst dressed as a ‘knife-thower’s assistant’, she would turn the tables on the ‘knife thrower’, who was really just her assistant, and use him for a target, while he spun on the revolving backboard. The acts novelty combined with Catherine’s matrushka-doll figure and anthracite eyes to make the act immensely popular throughout Europe, especially in the Carpathians; until she eventually found the rapid turnover of assistants more than a little off-putting and decided to quit showbiz to marry Swannee, who appeared in her life whilst on a European vacation.
Inside the pantry door, on Catherine’s left, were several wooden blocks of the kind which contain a selection of very long, very sharp and very pointy chef’s knives. Swiftly grasping a knife from each block in either hand Catherine dexterously threw both knives into Swannee’s back; he jerked severely and grunted while his newfound sexual partner moaned in ecstasy each time as four more times Catherine’s expert marksmanship planted four more pairs of knives in her adulterous husband’s back!
How could he do this to her?! And to the cricket team?! After all these years and all these children together, he has to go and throw it all away for the sake of a quickie in the closet with some harlot?! As the final pair of knives sunk deep into her errant husband’s kidneys, and as he slowly collapsed backwards off his erstwhile paramour, into the arms of ‘La Belle Dame Sans Merci’, Catherine let out a terrifyingly blood-curdling scream as a huge contraction suddenly hit her. The baby’s head had not only instantly engaged, but had already forced its way out of her vagina to hang there dangling, visibly to Harry from the rear through the obligatory gap in her hospital robe, between her legs.
Thinking quickly, Harry grabbed a couple of serviettes from a shelf and laid them on a large silver platter… then he waited with his hands held underneath the baby’s head, ready to catch it when Catherine could no longer resist the urge to give it the final push it needed. After this he cut the cord with another sharp kitchen knife and tied off both ends with pieces of string which the chef used for tying up roasts. Just at this point the doctors arrived along with several nurses. One of the doctors administered a hypodermic sedative to Catherine, who was still screaming and clearly quite beside herself as Harry presented her with her new child on a silver platter; until, finally sedated, she allowed herself to slump into the nurse’s arms and let them take her away to a secure ward, where the police would be waiting to interview her as soon as she came round.
As luck would have it, Loreen found a convenient air-vent which she knew led outside the hospital building and took advantage of all the commotion, while everyone’s attention was focused on Catherine, to disappear; nobody had had a clear view of her face and the medicos had finally arrived to take care of the unfortunate Swannee; there was absolutely no reason, she told herself, why she needed to involve herself in this unfortunate affair whatsoever. She determined that she would be both shocked and stunned when she heard the news tomorrow morning when she arrived for work…
***** ******* *****

Dear Sandshoe, it is with great pleasure that I noticed a renewal of interest in my little comedy serial… And I must say it gives me a big kick that you like my stories so much; all the more so when you offered to throw money at me!
Just on the one-chance-in-a-million possibility that you might actually have been serious, my email address is: the name I am writing this message, followed of course, but the usual ‘at’ sign, the name of the extinct flightless bird which gave rise to the phrase ‘as dead as a ….’, followed by the usual dot, a three-letter abbreviation of the word ‘communication’ and the usual two-lettered abbreviation for Australia. (I’d have simply given you my email address had you asked for it; but since you said you were ‘looking for clues’ I didn’t want to disappoint you! Go Sherlock!)
If you’d like to see more of my writing, please feel free to visit my blog, ‘Astyages’s Weblog’ at:
astyages.wordpress.com
I hope you’ll also leave comments and/or questions… Nice to meet you, Sandshoe!
(I’m afraid my muse took a bit of a holiday on this serial; but this renewal of interest may spark her return… perhaps I can squeeze a few more episodes out… I DID have such great ideas on where to take the story…)
🙂
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I love the serial. Your readership has that is visible. There will be some silent witnesses behind the scenes too keyboard challenged to raise a finger, every bit as muddled as I get how to use the site and post a complaint: Dear whatisname and whichever you are, yo, I think your name are mouthfuls and how many of you there are I cannot think until now (it’s made me tense). Your story are beaut. Your overlooked fan. ps do you like strawberries and fresh cream from my farm. I left some at the door of the big hotel. I am too shy to go in there (scared.) pps what happened (next, no, not to you, to Swannee).
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🙂
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Ah! What happened next?
Well, that, as they say, remains to be seen! Without giving away too much of a chapter which has yet to be written, I can at least give you a hint: You can’t keep a good man down; and Swannee was most definitely a good man!
I’m really heavily busy with my music these days; doing a ‘Beginners’ Blues Guitar’ course and spending a lot of time on the ‘Ultimate Blues Guitar’ website forum… (where else can I chat with a room full of musos who are all learning the blues?)
But I will try to make time within the next couple of weeks to start Chapter 2…
In the meantime, might I recommend ‘Cyrus’? It’s a rattling good yarn, if I do say so myself!
😉
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There is nothing to say the man is dead that I grasped. He just had a large number of knives hurled into his back by a professional knife thrower intent on doing a damage.
I felt a little sorry when I finished reading the Episode that I know the story thus far. Like it very much. The baby on a silver platter (yes) adds some refinement.
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Without giving away too much of what I had planned for the unfortunate Swannee, let me just say that, should I continue this series, you most certainly have not seen the last of him…
😉
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Thank something if not goodness. What red-blooded (transfixed or otherwise) female could not have been smoted with distress when some appearance trembled in view into this fabulous, to some rich (pffft! that’s rich!), transportable (can successfully travel from one year to another without a word being written) airport mini-novella, Swannee – Swanneeeeeeeeee – was done in. Incomprehensible. How can a reading public -it is likely mostly female- find the words to say this without blubbering (some people are so gullible, I don’t know. 😉
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That sex scene is just the duck’s guts that is. Fabulous T.
I’ve been a bit busy so I’ve only just read it. And I love the picture too, so apt.
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‘Duck’s guts’? Hmmm assuming that’s Ozzie for ‘bee’s knees’, I’ll take that as a compliment Warrigal… Glad you like it!
🙂
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I think it means the liver which of course from a duck makes pate therefore highly complimentary
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…and the ducks nuts are?
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T2, seeing it’s Friday night , I’m taking some time off to read the latest stories here, pretty cool, I mean mean pretty hot , very passionate…
This is better than Carlos Saura’s movie Carmen, and that was something to remember…can’t wait for the next chapter!
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Very passionate! I am wearing ‘Brute’ tonight, brushed my teeth and combed my hair. Where are the contraceptives?
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Good luck Gerard!
😉
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Yeah, go gerard!
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I’m glad you’re enjoying the story so far, Helvi… Must look out for the movie you mention; I haven’t seen it yet… indeed to be quite honest I’ve never heard of Carlos Saura either… but on your recommendation I’ll keep my eyes peeled for it!
🙂
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I think Helvi has confused the story with Dumbo by Walt Disney, the train going uphill is very erotic and steamy
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I must thank whoever provided the picture too… was this you Voice?
Anyway, thanks to whoever it was… it is most appropriate and I could not have done better myself, though I had determined to look for a pic to add later… of course, that is quite unnecessary now… so thanks once again!
😉
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Not me T2, although I do like the picture.
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Wellcome back T2! We have sold the farm, and our new home is let…
We might end up homeless !
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Selling your farm does sound a bit like the ‘end of an era’, Helvi, but I do hope it won’t come to homelessness…
I’m in the throes of waiting for a Housing SA transfer myself, to a ground floor unit or house (hopefully!)… At least I know I won’t be homeless though; but the move will certainly be an upheaval; I’ve been in this flat going on twelve years now and that’s the longest I’ve EVER stayed in one place. I feel quite secure here and feel a bit like I’m about to leap off a precipice into the unknown…
Oh well, looking on the bright side, it’s another ‘adventure’ I suppose. Who knows what new possibilities may open up for us, eh, Helvi? Maybe something will turn up for Mr Micawber after all…
🙂
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Asty, I’m always open for new possibilities, that’s what life is all about…
Poor Swannee, and isn’t a pity about the new cricket team, or should I say, poor Catherine.
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Well… I feel a tad guilty about killing Swannee off myself, Helvi; the real Swannee is such a nice bloke! But don’t worry… you have most definitely NOT seen the last of him… or Catherine… or the cricket team… though they will all most certainly be quite changed by this experience.
Stay tuned for more thrilling episodes of… HELL HOSPITAL!
🙂
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Just got round to reading this T2, or is it Edgar Spillane Robbins?
I have been on a break and it’s hard work ploughing through the PA’s catalogue playing catch up.
Good stuff……..But..It took her quite a long moment to assimilate the sight of her husband’s rear elevation.
Surely you mean, “she spotted her husbands arse”?
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‘Rear elevation’ has a bit more style though, Julian, don’t you think? Glad you like it though…
🙂
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It is a silly word association, but I thought of the movie ‘Rear Window’, a nice architectural sort of frippery.
Something to aim up to as well rather than just aim at. Had the reference been ‘she spotted her husbands arse’ I truly feel I would have thought of little at all that aroused rather than deflated, that conjured a sense of well-designed homeliness and slippers placed neatly under the bed…rather than banal fatalism. It’s not that sort of relationship (the banal) that makes a cricket team. How could this Julian?
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Jeeps, T2, wow man, you have out done yourself here. Brilliant. Thing is, poor old swanne is getting murdered and the woman gets an orgasim, weird eh.
Great reference to the cricket team, Sandy would be proud.
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There was a famous Spanish film called ‘Matador’, based on this concept (orgasm and death, not, Sandy and a cricket team).
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Close bro’
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Isn’t this better than UL where it takes over 24 hrs to get posted?
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The French refer politely to orgasm as ‘le petit mort’ (the little death), Big M… it’s quite a common concept…
But I do like to think I’ve included all of life’s most notable stages in this one little scene: birth, growth, marriage and the completion of the family unit, sexual infidelity, murderous revenge and of course, death… or something roughly approximating it…
Life’s rich tapestry!
🙂
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I saw a Japanese film at an ancient Sydney Film Festival – that was pretty graphic (and almost banned) on the topic of strangulation to enhance orgasm, Big. It was called “In the Realm of the Senses”.
There was a lesson in it too….. obsession is fatal, and also that if you’re on the bottom you’re more likely to die – because on top you’ll pass out and collapse before you croak…..
Trouble is, it doesn’t work with self-service (not enough hands) 🙂
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None of this analysis of the role of death or near death and orgasm would make it through the UL moderator.
I was about to say that I’m familiar with the concept of ‘le petit mort’, but, well you know…
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Emmjay, that movie ‘In the Realm of Senses’ was pretty amazing, they don’t make them like that anymore…
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Thank you Hung… glad you enjoyed it. But not only does Swannee get murdered as Loreen orgasms, but at the same instant his wife presents him with his complete cricket team! Tantalus would have understood how he felt! On a TV screen it would look hilarious, I think; if the censors would ever allow it!
🙂
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Somewhere, out there, is a piece of apple pie and cream. And half a cup of evidence !
Pearler of an episode, T2.
Will this be a case for DI Vinh Ordinaire Rouge – who has been languishing at the station waiting for O’Hoo to show up ?
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Don’t think there’s enough of a mystery to interest DI Vinh Ordinaire Rouge, Emmjay… we already know whodunnit… But is this the last we’ll see of the charming Swannee? Is he now as defunct as his reputation for marital fidelity? And what of Catherine? Will she spend the rest of her life incarcerated? And if so, what will happen to the cricket team? And what has all this to do with the strange goings-on at the morgue?
Don’t miss the next thrilling installment of “Hell Hospital”!
🙂
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Surely she’d plead insanity, I know, I have, I mean, would!
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That’s certainly one possibility, Big M… but I haven’t quite decided what I’m going to do with her yet… we’ll both just have to wait and see… looks like we’re on tenterhooks again!
😉
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I think that makes you the first person to write an actual sex scene into their Pigs Arms article T2.
I don’t think the murder of her husband is very likely. It would effectively orphan her children, with the father dead and the mother in jail. It’s also particularly unlikely for a woman about to give birth to a fragile new life. IMHO.
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It’s supposed to be not only a fictional horror story, Voice, but also a comedy… what is ‘likely’ is hardly a relevant criterion for forming any judgment. But remember too that this Swannee’s first infidelity; just as she was about to give him his cricket team… (and how likely is that anyway?) and European tempers can run very hot.
😉
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… and if I did write a sex scene, it was necessary and not at all gratuitous… and I’ve tried hard to ‘suggest’ sex, rather than to (porno-) graphically describe it… You surely don’t imagine I’d do such a thing just for fun do you? With such a discerning readership?
😉
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I am just looking for clues to the identity of the perpetrator of this story so I can leave the person perhaps a considerable amount of money for causing me to laugh so much, when I notice a-new the truth is mentioned … ‘discerning readership’.
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… and how do you know the mother is going to jail? Swannee, officially speaking, has not actually been pronounced dead yet…
🙂
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But thanks for editing my quotation marks, apostrophe’s etc, Voice… I was just about to do that myself, when I noticed it had already been changed… and I’m pretty sure it was you I have to thank for it.
🙂
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Don’t worry Theseustoo, having a make believe sex scene with Voice would be like talking over your tax return with the ATO
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Difficult to reply to either of these two posts safely, Hung old chap, so I won’t attempt it… If nothing else, Voice’s not entirely inaccurate observation does allow me to call my little serial, ‘ground-breaking’, wouldn’t you say?
🙂
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And before anyone charges in with any moralism, go zark yourself
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Whew! Well, that’s a load off my mind! I finally managed to get round to writing and posting HH8… With my apologies to all those faithful piglets whom I’ve kept on tenterhooks for far too long, as well as my thanks for their patience… I do hope it was worth the wait.
Now I can actually catch up with reading and responding to some of the more recent posts here at the Pigs now that I don’t feel too ashamed to show my face…
😉
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Crikey, I go to lot’s of deliveries, but never on a silver platter, with the cord tied with butcher’s string. Clearly Hell Hospital is way ahead of any of the public hospitals in NSW!
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Not to mention the serviettes.
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Thanks Big M… glad someone saw the funny side…
😉
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I thought the serviettes a nice touch, Voice… I didn’t want to place a newborn babe on a cold silver platter… not without at least a little garnish!
🙂
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One doesn’t see enough serviettes in the Labour Ward, these days!
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You mean to say, Big M, that you put all those newborn babies on cold silver platters without even any serviettes?
😉
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Budget cuts!
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I see… bluddy gummint!
🙂
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