Out-and-Outliars. Of Ice, Fur and Fire. (Chapter 4, Part 11)

                                                                              11.

Floy, the Macaque-crested monkey who invented the 0 1 binary code used in computers all over the globe, could no more retain the shape of the teacup, saucer and teaspoon into which he had been sung than he could keep from mischief-making. Having leapt through the membrane of an Oxford street store during the magical witching hour with the escapees from the exotic pets department, he had merely followed the commuters of liminal London attracted to and guardians of beautiful things.  He had had the requisite whimsy and desperation to conceal himself, Karen Smith and his exotic cohorts, in the various gleaming designs on display in John Lewis, but in the cold light of day he found he was struggling with his shift and there was the very real threat that at any moment he would burst, fully formed from the teacup, saucer and spoon and scare the customers away.

The liminal twin-spirited queens who inhabited by day the shiny objects within the famous shop had been practising concealment since the realization that they were different came crashing in on their developing minds like a sudden surge of migraine, and it was this difference in shape that they had each and everyone, become watchful for shades and nuances that might betray in the world of the ‘’normals, though the innate opportunities for making a difference and balancing the brutal polarities of an otherwise mediocre world with beauty remained an undimmed imperative. An inherent knowledge of the ‘Designer’, earlier witnessed being sung out of his draughtsboard into his revolving chair, offered instant refuge for individuals who, in former times and cultures would have had such a position of prestige as to have been detected as special from inside the mothers’ womb three month prior to birth, and even earlier and cause for much jubilation. These beauty-makers, were impalpable objects of desire signifying desire itself, sign-posting the correct direction of male towards female, female towards male and the proto-mythical direction of the tribe itself. Now, after two thousand years of vacuous religious and colonial patriarchy, initiated and sustained by the rampant and dunderhead jealousy of a fist-wielding brother plotting tirelessly against the atmosphere of specialness showered upon his sibling’s…well, specialness, in a consumer society, the only refuge of that specialness was in beautiful things.

Floy’s shape now strained against the very porcelain in which he was constrained and it was only good fortune that the black woman browsing the shelves with her husband and her husband’s best friend, who was also secret her lover in tow and the store's security not far behind- for curiously the liminal shape-shifters, though they were themselves in constant flight from persecution, exuded from within their designs a blinding snobbism which betokened fear- the woman purchased Floy just to get the suspicious store detectives off her back and regain a modicum of self-respect. As Floy, in the form of a now packaged teacup, saucer and spoon was carried out of John Lewis he was aware of the pandemonium that was unleashed within the store as Karen Smith, the young lady who had auctioned off the UK, concealed within a saddle in the equestrian department, an elephant wearing the skin of a Lavazza Coffee Machine, a female Macaque-crested as leopard-skin rug, and various alligators disguised as Le Creuset cookware, a giraffe blinking within a lamp stand… under the strain of metamorphosis all burst into their true identities sending customers screaming for the various exits while the old boors in a nearby gentleman’s club, on hearing the breaking news, raided the gun room declaring open hunting season.

At home the teacup, saucer and teaspoon were unpacked and placed in the centre of the coffee table while the two men sat down best of friends. This amicable state was not to last. The woman was in the kitchen preparing food and was blissfully unaware of the trouble brewing in the other room. Floy was aware that the follicles of his hair were bristling dangerously and threatening to sprout; he was desperate to find an opportunity for a diversion. It came when the husband got up to put some music on the stereo, his back turned to his friend.

“Your Mama’s so fat I took a photo of her two weeks ago and it’s still developing”. Came the voice, an exact imitation of the seated friend.

The husband swung round. “Well”, said the husband, taking up the challenge, “Your mama so poor, I saw her kicking a can down the street, and when I asked what she was doing she said ‘Moving’! ”.

 “But I…” The bewildered bestfriend was about to say the voice had not been his but instead he smiled. “Well, your mama’s so fat she went to KFC to get a bucket of chicken, they asked her what size and she said ‘The one on the roof!”.

The husband laughed and retorted. “Your mama’s so poor she goes to KFC to lick other people’s fingers!”.

“Your mama’s so fat when she sits around the house, SHE SITS AROUND THE HOUSE!”

“Your mama’s so poor your family ate cereal with a fork to save milk!”.

Meanwhile, during this exchange Floy could feel the tips of his fur beginning to grow out of the cup, saucer and teaspoon.

"Well", said the best friend. “Your mama’s so fat she jumped in the air and got stuck”! Both men laughed.

“Your mama’s so poor I walked in your house and three cockroaches tripped me up and tried to take my wallet”!

Pulling himself back from the bestfriend's returned. “Your mama’s so fat when she was born she gave the hospital stretch marks!”

Again both laughed. “Hang on, hang on, my turn next, just let me put some music on". The moment the husband’s back was turned Floy mimicked the bestfriend’s voice. “Your mama’s so fat when she was having sex her partner he didn’t know if it was in her butt or her boobs”!

At this the husband swung round, and there was only a faint smile on his lips. “Your mama’s so poor the last time she smelled a hot meal was a rich man’s fart”!

Once again bewildered and a little anxious and insulted the husband’s best friend tried to declare the game over. The husband agreed and once again turned to choose some music. Once again, no sooner his back turned, Floy threw his voice around the room, this time louder and with urgent vitriol. “Your mama’s so fat we’re in her right now!”

The husband took hold of the stereo system and yanked it off the wall, swinging around on his heels he hurled it at his best friend, who defended himself with his raised arms, the hi-fi, crashing against a wall landed on the floor in smithereens.

When the woman came running into the living room she found her husband and his best friend dealing each other open blows to the face to a volley of ‘your mama’s’ emitting from a teacup, saucer and spoon that had grown a full coat of fur. She screamed and at that moment and for a moment only they stopped fighting and stared at her.

 

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you I've been sleeping with him earlier !", she yelled. "I TOLD  you not to tell him!" the bestfriend had just enough time to look bewildered again, before the husband dealt him a blow that broke his nose and knocked out his teeth. In defence of her husband the woman joined in the affray.

The police were called by a neighbour and entered the flat with the customary disproportionate force, prized the best friends and woman apart and giving the strange furry object on the table a cursory glance lead the blood-bespattered party off to the station for questioning.