Journal Entries
Accounts due.
Posted Aug 2, 2020
*$216.40*
*Wha….?*
*Your bill Sir, two hundred and sixteen dollars, forty cents…. please?*
He stood, in his immaculate suit, at the immaculate counter, unsure as to whether he was checking in, or checking out; the last few hours had been a bit weird.
*Wha….? *, was the most his fractured mind could summon.
*$216.40, £165.38p, 3.693.70 Rand, 197.62 Swiss Franc or 16,098 RUB…..your bill ….Sir?*
*Sorry. My bill….for….?*
She smiled angelically, or demonically; he couldn’t quite tell.
*Your sins? Those that you’ve wronged. Your life’s sum-total deficit? *
*Two hundred bucks? My life? Sins?*
*Thank you for living on Earth Sir, now that this stage of your Journey has ended, please pay the fee due, and progress to your chosen Afterlife…. that’d be $ 216.04…Sir…*
He fished in the pockets of his immaculate suit. Nothing. Nada. Zilch.
*I’m so sorry, I appear to be a little, erm, financially embarrassed. What happens if I can’t pay my, erm, bill?*
*All fees due are required by Law to be immediately paid, those that settle shall be granted onward transportation. Onwards and upwards so to speak. Those that cannot, or will not, atone for their debts…* She looked down, deep, deep, downward.
There are no pockets in shrouds.
You can’t take it with you when you go.
Hollow words.
Time had erased the need, the necessity to pay our debts.
Pharaohs, Celts, Irish Kings - all knew the Price to be paid.
Modern mankind? Mehhh…not so much.
His passport was stamped, ‘In Arrears’, and Down he went.
Discuss this Journal entry [8]
Latest reply: Aug 2, 2020
Real life imitating art imitating real life
Posted Jul 28, 2020
I have spent a few minutes (and hours) recently, playing snippets of heavy rock songs on a very loud electric guitar, amp turned up to Vol5!
I play badly, very, very badly. But this is good! Because I'm doing a promo video for a spoof movie soundtrack played by someone who can't play, but is so incredibly bleeding famous it doesn't matter!
My musical daughter asked me today if I wanted her to teach me how to play 'proper chords'... That would totally ruin the video!
Kids just don't bleedin get art. 
Discuss this Journal entry [22]
Latest reply: Jul 28, 2020
The *It's Nights Show - Letterbox Special*
Posted Jul 25, 2020
*On tonite's extra special 'It's Nights Show, we have a true legend, ladies and gentlemen!* (Winks into camera 4) …*but especially ladies!*
*One time rising star in the English soccer scene, movie legend, Undead Rights activist, do his talents ever end?
Obviously not! Not content with all this, our special guest tonight now adds platinum selling album rock star to his resume!
Please welcome the one, the only, the rock God that is - Henry "Hellboy' Letterbox!*
Crowd goes wild as music booms and a leather-clad, guitar wielding , Letterbox enters the studio stage and bows theatrically.
Henry shakes hands with the host then rubs his palms with exaggerated glee at the platter of hot buttered crumpets on the table next to his chair.
*May I? *
*Please do! *
Henry bites into the crumpet, butter dribbles down his beard, *Not bad Joe, not bleedin bad at all! *
*it's James, thanks, now, before we get into the music, and the new look….doesn't he look cool girls?* James gestures to the hopelessly out of date looking rocker and the females (and quite a few males) scream and whistle.
*Just give us a brief insight into the latest movie...no spoilers…* Audience follow autocue prompts and make necessary sounds of disappointment.
*I like to think it's just a good old bleeding romance story Joe,*
*It's James!*
*Boy meets girl, boy turns out to be a guitar playing biker vamp, girl gets bitten...twice..* Henry waits for the laughter and applause at his clever nod to his biggest vampire movie, *Boy goes too bleeding far...we've all been there... haven't we guys?*
Uncomfortable male coughs in the predominantly female LA audience.
*Boy kills girl….but..* He smiles that famous boyish smile, *Boy makes a deal with the bleeding devil to get her back, if he can get to Hell on his bike faster than bleeding Lucifer in his 58 Chevy!*
Audience cheer as screen brightens to show promo clip of Hell on a G String. Surreal car chase through Hell, Letterbox pushing his Triumph to the very limits, whilst the devil tries to force him off the lava-strewn highway.
*Wow, stay right there folks, coming up, a special world exclusive live performance from Henry and his band, back after these important messages, don't go anywhere!*
Discuss this Journal entry [19]
Latest reply: Jul 25, 2020
HighLand(scap)er
Posted Jun 29, 2020
HighLandscaper.
“From the lawns of thyme we came…mowing silently down through the centuries. Propagating many secret lives, struggling to reach the time of the Gardening, when the few who remain will landscape to the last. No one has ever known we were among yew…..until now.“
1.
Don't Lose Your Veg.
Title music rolls.
Lead-in aerial shot through parting, sunlit clouds, lush green scenery as we fly over the modern day US332 and the trees of Spruce Lane, Pa.
Zoom into Sawyers Garden Supplies, and highlight two figures passing a hip flask, standing on an ornamental bridge spanning an equally ornamental pond.
The taller man dressed in a flamboyant gold and orange African dashiki. The other, a kilted, ginger-haired Scot, (the HighLandscaper) resplendent in the tartan of the Clan MacRayne.
Each man is holding an elaborately ornate garden spade, differing in design but both equally ancient and efficient looking.
Cut to camera shot of the African, Kastashear.
He drummed his palm against the stone balustrade, sharp hairdo glistening in the afternoon sunshine.
Gazing out over the immaculate nurseries, Kastashear smiled,
*So here we are at last, who'd've thought the Gardening would be here my old friend?*
MacRayne smiled back.
*Och, and why no? Have nae been to Clarion for quite a wee while. And another wee while since we shared a dram!*
MacRayne grimaced as he swallowed, cocking his ginger mane to question the flask's contents.
*Just a little bloom-bloom! You are surely not afraid of a little bloom-bloom, are you, Landscaper?*
*It's been too long, Kas, when was the last time laddie? Glasgae, aye?*
Kas beamed a hug grin and raised the hip flask.
*Glasgow aye, 1842...and I seem to remember you nearly lost your veg back then too my friend!*
Both laugh at the memory.
Pan upwards to thickening clouds.
FX roll to signify flashback, gathering storm clouds link to next scene. 1842, Glasgow, Scotland.
*And cut, great job guys, great job. Take ten. Reset. Henry, a quick word?*
Steve Swann lit another primo whilst he waited for Letterbox to disentangle himself from the outrageous ginger wig and beard the prat had insisted upon wearing for the part.
Jeez, this was going to be a weird shoot!
Discuss this Journal entry [21]
Latest reply: Jun 29, 2020
Shut the door.
Posted May 18, 2020
I woke my wife up last night, trying to shut a shadow on our bedroom wall! A very door-shaped shadow admittedly, and I was dreaming about vampire bounty hunters....may be a Ha'penny Dreadful in it though?
The couple slept.
Peaceful and warm. His arm unconsciously protecting her in the dark. The soft murmuring of their daughter dreaming in the next room, faint to his ears but still making him smile slightly as he slept.
Something stirred in the darkness, a patch of shadow deepened against the wall beside their bed. Growing and defining itself , black against black, but in some way darker than the shadows, forming impossibly straight lines. An inky rectangle, a doorway into the dark.
The impossible door swung open, darkness entered the room, creeping across the carpet towards the sleeping pair.
As the dawn chased the shadows, the woman turned, hands seeking the warmth of her husband. Touching the sticky, wet bed sheets, she pulled away, confused groans of complaint forcing her to consciousness.
Soft light through the curtains, illuminating the glistening blood, monochrome in the dawn, the coppery smell of death filled her senses as she screamed.
Discuss this Journal entry [12]
Latest reply: May 18, 2020
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