The Max Rebo stories have been delighting people in the Alternative Writing Workshop for quite a while. We thought we should share them with a wider audience. Keep those writings coming, folks! – DG

Things become more memorable the further they recede into the past, even though they become harder to remember with the clarity of a yesterday. But I can distinctly recall this day – it was every boy's dream! It was my first trip to London with Max Rebo.

We went to Ronnie Scott's. Looking like an elephant-monster, Max had no trouble with the management, but they wouldn't let me in. They said I was underdressed, which I suppose was sort of true. I was wearing just my swimming trunks like Superman, on the outside of my genitals, and, on my face, a large prosthetic trunk, (it was a beautiful Summer's evening).

After that, we went to London Zoo. Of course, they wouldn't let me out. They said I probably wouldn't make it in the wild. That was true later on in my life, but back then I was young and healthy and couldn't see their problem. Luckily, Max charmed them with his strange music and I managed to escape, disguised as a beast, (it was a beautiful summer's evening).

Later that same morning we found ourselves on the exact spot where the London eye stands now. Naturally, it wasn't there then so we had to make do cartwheeling up and down the Embankment. Of course, I fell in the Thames and accidentally got both trunks snagged on some rocks. Max saved me using some wires I'd packed in my trunk.

To clear our heads, we took one of those sight-seeing trips on the Underground and we both thought it was fantastic. It was just like Dickens: miles and miles of tunnels that always seem to end in stations.

We travelled to Tower Bridge. Of course, the sorcerer David Blaine wasn't living there then and eggs hadn't been invented, so we had to make do feeding the ducks. They really saw us coming! Quack, quack!

That night, Max was shot and stuffed in a movie.

Jodanchudan

14.02.11 Front Page

Back Issue Page