Gordian Knot Presents...A Denny Ledger Single Malt...

‘A Day At The Races’
Bunny said she didn’t want to go but there was something in her eyes that said otherwise as I peeled them open like a Spanish onion as she lay lifelessly asleep. I prodded her with the gun that her father gave me in order to shoot at the travelling gypsies in case they had gotten inside the birthday cake, he was a pacifist you see, and I a communist, but put the travelling gypsies inside Josephine’s birthday cake and there was no telling who was the more dangerous. I fired off a few rounds hoping that the smell of gunpowder would provoke a stir of life from Bunny; I knew she wouldn’t hear the shot that much was pointless; she slept like a rock face at high altitude. Nothing. But nothing.
BREAK IN THE NARRATIVE
I was half way through watching Casablanca for the third time at half speed when I let the cat out of the bag. Though he seemed not to mind. I though about calling Bunnys friend Honey over just to confuse the situation but the architecture seemed less accommodating. Terrance had died recently, or maybe he hadn’t yet, either way it was going that way, it was just a matter of bad timing. I proceeded to call him later to check on the kid. And maybe even kill him myself if the boy scouts hadn’t beaten me to it. I thought I’d even call Tilly until I remembered I didn’t know her, though I did have her number on my phone shaped like Peros from Peru. And to be honest I don’t think we were there yet. I still didn’t know what to do about Bunny. I decided to wait for the new Django Reinhardt CD, but that meant going to Fidels and I couldn’t say for sure whether I’d get past the Americans. I turned my attentions back to Bunny. The sun was already beginning to set but I felt an uncertainty in its actions which later proved to be true and it ended up being daylight for several days, but who was counting. The man on the radio suggested repopulating the Aztecs in order to re calculate what day it actually was but after a vote by the Ghanaians it was agreed that no one really cared. And in any case the water company were too busy to invade with all the legal action still going on against the Scandinavians. There was something of a heat wave at this point, whether it was self induced or not I guess I’ll never know. My money was on the turtleneck. The guy from sparks had finally called a ceasefire on his brother, the brother from Sparks, which would please Bunny, she loved Thin Lizzy, if only I could wake her to tell her. I scurried for her Thin Lizzy record, side B had been stolen by the Afghans but side C was still playable but for a hairline fracture in the third quarter. I lost it in my findings. I resurrected Mortimer’s 57th and 4th and decided nothing was better than something before deciding everything was irrelevant the day before, Mortimer would do. I watched Bunny as Mortimer retold the story of the Phantom of the Opera in a wet suit, Bunny seemed not to stir. I decided on calling the guy from spark but the woman on the answer phone said he was busy working on the musical with his brother, the brother from Sparks. I resorted to plain indecency but Fidel soon put a stop to that. His brother Rual sent me a birthday card in the mail; his presidency of the Northern Territory had done him the world of good. I put the kettle on thinking the adrenaline would wake Bunny. I turned it off after the 19th coffee after remembering Bunnys coffee allergy. I decided to protest ignorance if the attorneys ever found out about this, fortunately Bunny seemed not to notice. On reverse tactics I read D.H. Lawrence’s ‘Sons and Lovers’ to myself in order to not disturb Bunny.
ACT TWO: IN WHICH THE SCENE IS SET
Bunny had been awake for a while, or maybe it hadn’t, or maybe she wasn’t, but she made herself a coffee and put the whole thing down to experience. I guess I had to tell her, after all, Pete had put a gun to my head and said that if I didn’t he’d do something not even he knew would be, it had put the wind up me I swear, I said I’d do it. I had no tolerance for the Danish, that much was true, I sure did like the muffins though, which evened things out at least, all’s fair in love and war. Ha! Try telling that to the pentagonal love oblisque; soon as they get back from the Olympics, the Japanese were there only threat. I picked up her fathers gun, the cloud had followed me, was I meant to kill her? Or merely split up with her? Were we even going out? I have a vague recollection of getting married in New York, its hazy, or was that a film I had seen? Note to self: find out if there’s a film in which two people get married in New York and, Note to self part two: check if one of those people was me. The more I thin k about it the more I recall Genna Davis being there, I hadn’t seen her since the cruise to the tropics in the 40’s. Did we stop off via New York? I thought maybe I’d kill Bunny anyway, but if I was wrong I’d have Fidel to answer to, and he was still pissed off about the whole jam jar incident. Lucy called me to say that it wasn’t me in the film about a couple that get married in New York. That was... tepid? I’d have to watch that film myself to resolve the confusion. I tried to remember what Pete had said, since the whole business with not reviving the Aztecs I had no recollection of days but if my calculations were correct I wasn’t due to meet Pete until next year, since I hadn’t met him yet I figured I shouldn’t worry too much about what he had said on our last encounter. I put the gun down, but not before blasting off a few rounds to keep the dawn at bay. The Django Reinhardt CD had arrived from Fidel the previous morning. Bunny and I relaxed with another coffee and decided to get the tattoos to match. The Aztecs were reinstalled for promotional purposes.
END
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