Almirena's
SNEAKY ALTERNATIVE SNIPPET OF TLF
Santi froze in position, his eyes darting to the thick trunk-like things that lay rigidly serpentine upon a pile of hessian sacking. Are those snakes? he thought, an avid leap of something unmentionable countering the chill of the freezer.
He crossed the floor, paying no attention to the carcasses swinging from the hooks in the low ceiling. As he came closer, he saw that the thick ropey objects were indeed snakes, and not - for instance - starter cables or unneeded extra thick cabling for the freezer. His breath came in heavy pants - he hadn't feasted his eyes upon a snake for far, far too long. Stupid patients, he thought violently. Objecting to something as beautiful and natural as a snake in the consulting rooms. It made him furious just to think about the unreasonable nature of other people.
But what to do...? The snakes were so cold that they weren't about to twitch so much as an eyelid. Out of the corner of his eye, Santi spotted what looked like an abandoned blowtorch, and some empty crates marked "Finest Venison Carcasses - DeerMe (TM)".
An idea began to form in his mind...
Almirena's
TLF - Unauthorised and fake version
The maid tottered uncomfortably on her high heels as she lackadaisically dusted a light fitting. High heels were not the thing for effective dusting, but they were what she'd been told to wear... so she wore them. Besides, they made her ankles look French.
Very French.
Thinking about things French... She suddenly had the urge to sink her teeth into a venison vol-au-vent made with a white sauce, and she frowned to herself, duster in one hand and her other hand tapping her teeth. Hmm. She had these cravings sometimes. And it was no use trying to think of something else, or try to satisfy the craving by eating, for example, some peanuts. No, nothing would do but the object of desire itself - that superb, formidable venison vol-au-vent which she wanted.
Well, there was nothing for it. The dust would have to wait. The maid snorted to herself, carelessly flung the feather duster away from her (it caught on the top chandelier above, and hung there like a strange and grotesque spider-like fringe of blackness), and swivelled down the hall towards the freezer.
As she neared the freezer door, she stopped, checking all around her to be sure no one would see her dereliction of dusting duties. It was no one's business, of course, whether she made herself some venison vol-au-vents or not, but a life in service had taught her that it was best to avoid being caught out even if you had a very good explanation ready.
She withdrew the heavy ring of keys from her frilled pocket, and clutched the keys tightly in order to avoid their jingling. Carefully she checked the keyring for the right key, and could not find it. Where is it? Where is it? Has someone been messing with my keys? she thought, annoyed. A moment later, a mottled red flush covered her face and throat.
The freezer HAD no keyhole. It was a freezer, for goodness' sake!
The maid pulled an exasperated face at her own stupidity, and reached out to the door handle. The steel handle's lock had been pressed down, and she depressed it as quietly as possible. As she swung open the door, she heard a sound like someone in torment within the freezer.
She froze.
There was a rough gasp, and the maid opened the door more widely. She couldn't see anything - it was too dark - but the gasping continued. She said uncertainly, "Hello?"
The gasps stopped. "Um, just a minute," said a voice from the interior. "Give me a minute."
"But is something wrong? I could hear-"
"GIVE ME A MINUTE!"
"Well, you don't have to shout!" retorted the maid, offended. She stood there, tapping her high-heeled foot, and distinctly - yes, distinctly - she could hear pants and low moans.
"There IS something wrong!" she said loudly.
There was a long moaning sound that rose up the scale like a demented mouth organ, and then the voice inside shouted something like "Tutu! Tutu!". The next instant, a crazed-looking snake wearing a lopsided bow tie shot out of the freezer, causing the maid to scream in high-pitched hysteria. She backed away, stumbled over her heels, and fled - in the opposite direction from the snake.
Some moments later, after a few rustling sounds, a figure whose head was disguised by a hessian sack emerged from the freezer. It hesitated, looked around, and vanished from sight.
The maid, huddled in the kitchen pantry, had quite forgotten about her craving for vol-au-vents, and was consoling herself for her terror by stuffing sour pickles into her mouth, one after the other.
"It spoke," she whispered to herself. "The snake spoke. It was trying, I think, to become a man. It groaned with the effort. It sighed. It shouted. Then in defeat, it fled from the freezer... Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear. We have a nearly-were-snake in the house... I should have become a typist."
Krss: I must comment on these because I loved them so much. My favorite line is "GIVE ME A MINUTE!" XDD
(30.10.2006, 14:16)
-script by Alex
