"Madam.
Parking is prohibited here, do you wish to defy the law?"
"Yes, I do. The law will defy you if you don't don’t pre-empt it. Remember that."
She smacks the car door shut, takes two steps Then twists like a cobra. "Aren't you coming, Karl?"
"Ah, actually…" He looks at his watch. "Actually, madam, a police patrol might pass by any moment, I'll stay in the car."
Aunt Phyllis stares at him with petrified eyes. "Humph, a domesticated ghoul," she mutters, then leaves.
Karl wasn't always domesticated. Rather, the earth groans with terror at the ether of his steps. A human tank with a colossal body, and features which the edges of steel blades are sharpened.
But today's opponent is of a different kind, it's Jones, Nicknamed Jones The Sawfish, A man who holds a doctorate in impudence.
"Clack, clack," Aunt Phyllis's bowels rumble, as she cinches her dignity tight, crossing the narrow Gist-Gore Alliance alley.
"Today I will show that scoundrel Selling me disgusting Tempeh with scales."
She passes a ramshackle fishmonger's, like a cleansing train, its pungent aroma purging the stale smells.
"No, that won't happen," someone says, contemplating brown shrimp in front of "The Gracious Fish's" display.
Phyllis marches directly inside, slams her sturdy hand on a teak countertop.
"Where is the person in charge here?" she calls out Aiming her gaze towards a shrunken old man hunched behind the glass.
The man gestures towards outside with his bushy eyebrows..
She turns around but finds no one. "What, is this a joke?" she says with disgust.
A shadow in human form, her eyes didn't notice how he entered Stands parallel, wearing a flat cap. He whispers: "Your apology is accepted, madam."
She turns to the right towards the voice, he anticipates her to the left with an elegant chair in his hand.
"Please. Rest your strained feet, before your precious mood sours. We here appreciate the virtuous soul."
"Pfaugh," he spits on the ground: "As for the malicious tongue, it's a creature without manners."
The aunt winces "Excuse me, Mr..."
"Ricky Jones," he snatches the tongs from her.
He removes his hat and bows his head gently "And as I said before, your apology is accepted."
He adds:
"As you see. I chose to sell creatures that roam the seas languidly, and don't utter a whisper. Some think they are deaf, but the truth is they hate gossip, Just like me. And now..."
He calls out to the man crouching in the back of the storefront. "Are you done there, Mr. Mustache?"
"Yes," he answers. "I'll take your advice, I want that one." And he points his finger at a large salmon, pale blue.
"Good," says Jones. "Excellent choice."
The man comes out from behind the refrigerator, handing the red apron to Jones He disappears for a moment, then turns around wearing a rubber glove Arranging for him a pink fish other than the one he chose.
"That madman who just left, it took an hour of my time for him to decide not to decide."
He chops off the head of a tuna with a convex cleaver.
"People don't realize what they desire; I have no taste for nonsense, But I never hesitate when a request is made."
The aunt smiles delightfully, revealing bright molars that appear once in a lifetime.
"Mr. Jones, fish is fish in its all different forms. I'm not seduced by its color as much as its taste matters to me."
She gets up from the chair and approaches elegantly
"I am here because you sold me dead fish, which stirred up my digestive and mental system."
Jones listens as he trims his beard precisely like clock hands.
"Have you visited the doctor, ma'am?" he asks.
"I don't think that's any of your business, or anyone else's," she replies.
"And how did you know that my virtuous fish is the one who tampered with your delicate devices?"
"Never mind," he replies to himself. "Let's say..."
A girl enters with cherry hair, wearing a puffy jacket resembling tractor wheels, and black jeans, stuffed with thick, long legs. She wraps a cotton scarf around her neck, with a tattoo of the number 52 above her left eyelid.
"Hello, my hardworking Sawfish," she says.
She glares haughtily at the Aunt.
“Looks like I interrupted you right before you mince this hag!"
Jones replies, "How are you, you little bitch? Looks like my toil hasn't gone to..."
Aunt Phyllis strikes her from behind, like a ferocious hyena. She yanks on her scarf with all her might, and snatches her to the ground.
"Let's see who's the hag now, you moth worm!"
The scarf girl scratches the aunt's leg angrily. "You son of a bitch," Phyllis yells in pain Her foot twitches in her prey's face, and crushes her jaw fiercely.
The girl's mouth overflows weeping blood, under a sadistic, merciless heel. "Ah.Ah, yeah," moans as if she going through labor.
She kicks the aunt's stomach hard, and drags herself towards her bag She takes out a screwdriver, and stands up screaming:
"I will gnaw your rotten flesh, you mummy."
Jones grabs her by her jacket, and unleashes a devastating slap on her cheek that knocks her to the ground, unconscious.
"Shit, shit, shit," he says… interrupted by the sound of an oncoming earthquake.
He looks outside and shouts:
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"It's Hercules, oh my God!"
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A raging bull storms into the shop, in a tight black suit. He looks towards Phyllis lying on the ground, takes off his watch Then turns his gaze towards Jones, with eyes that freeze the burning fire.
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"Wait Karl.. ah, ah" (panting).
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Aunt Phyllis gets up crawling, and carries a necklace from the ground, with the symbol of an insect on it. Jones glimpses it silently, picks up the screwdriver from between his feet, and approaches Karl "She's a reckless vulgar girl, and I disciplined her myself."
Karl puffs a raging air from his nose, places the chair in front of the Aunt.
"Rest, madam, I'll bring the car immediately."
Phyllis sits down groaning, takes out a mirror and checks her face "We apologize for this shameful incident, madam," Jones whispers.
She looks at him then at the girl and nods in agreement.
Karl parks the car and enters. She stands up leaning on his arm, then turns around
"What about this concubine of yours?" she asks
“Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of her,” he replies. Her eyes slowly avert, then she leaves.
Jones pours a bowl of ice on the girl's face: "Wake up you bastard, wherever I stepped troubles sprout."
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It seems that this battle of sea monsters ended without a loser But it wasn't Karl that worried Jones, but something else.
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---
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Henry, who never went to bed early, didn't withdraw today as usual with the paint brush.
Sitting in the middle of his haunted room, looking at a picture of (King Arthur) "No, it's too late now," he says. He looks at Bentho who is fighting his tail
He checks the clock again, nine ten "Damn, let's do it" he takes his phone squeezes the call button, and throws it like an explosive mine.
(Waiting ringtone).. Henry hovers over a table in front of him. A delicate voice says: "Hello,.."
He picks up the phone with trepidation. ."Hello Chloe.."
"If you can hear me I'm probably away, you can leave a message after the beep..." cuts the call.
"Damn, voice mail", he throws the phone out of his hand and lights a cigarette. He turns to Bentho, who is staring eagerly "Don't look at me, we tried."
His phone rings suddenly, he jumps on it and answers quickly. A kind voice says: "Hello, who is this?"
"Hello, Emma. Is that you?" he replies.
"I'm not Emma, I'm Little Red Riding Hood."
"Hehe" Henry laughs from his eyes. "And I'm your grandma, the wolf," he replies.
"If you're really the wolf!, bark. So I can hear you."
"BARK!!, wolves howl and don't bark" says Henry as he sits down.
"You're not a wolf, you're lying. Wolves don't talk."
"Emma, is your mother there?" he replies seriously
"I don't know, ask her yourself," she replies sarcastically.
"I would like that, is she..."
"Hello. Henry, What's the matter?" Chloe interrupts in a tired tone.
He gets up and retreats into a corner. "Hello Chloe, sorry for calling at this time"
She listens to him silently. "Chloe, are you still with me?"
"Say, what do you want Henry," she replies in a tepid voice.
He gets flustered, then says: "Yes. I intend to go on a trip, and I'm thinking of taking Emma with me.. what do you say?"
"Henry, are you serious?" she replies "You want to go on holiday with your daughter, whom you haven't spoken to in over a month."
He gasps in silence, then recovers his breath with a drag of burnt tobacco: "You're right, I apologize for that, I was..."
"Goodbye Henry, I'm tired now," she interrupts and cuts off the blood from his agitated heart. She adds quickly: "I'll call you tomorrow," and hangs up.
Life is breathed into him again. He carries a notebook from a wooden shelf, and sits in ecstasy Bentho jumps on his lap.
He fills his cup with juice and opens the notebook. He writes: 438 days without alcohol.
"We're approaching half a thousand, Bentho."
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He removes the glove, and looks at his severed fingers "We won't fail this time."
ns216.73.216.13da2
and then Add to home screen.