Chapter 16 The Big Bad Love Machine

112.

Victoria was in her bedroom, doing her hair at the desk.

‘Okay,’ said Charlie by the door. ‘You showered?’

‘Uh huh.’ Victoria sniff-tested her armpit. ‘I… think that’s okay. Gimme a sec,’ she shoved a can of deodorant up her shirt, and sprayed everything like an exterminator wiping out a rare species. She sniffed again, ‘okay that’s better.’

They were in the hallway. Victoria took her coat off the hook and shrugged it on.

Charlie was crossing items off a list on his notepad with a pencil.

‘You got your wallet, phone, flash light?’

She took the items out one at a time.

‘Check… check annnnnnnd-‘ she nearly blinded Charlie with the flashlight. ‘shit.’

The notepad went flailing out of his hands, as his hands went rushing to his face. ‘fuck.’

‘You okay dad?’

‘Yeah, yeah, fuck that’s bright.’ The heel of his palm was rubbing one eye, carrying his glasses up his forehead by the knuckles. ‘It should be fine.’ He smiled.

Victoria was getting out of the door.

Charlie was wearing an eyepatch.

The bus shelter was in sight, Victoria hugged her dad with one arm, stood on her tippy toes and kissed him on the temple.

‘Love you, dad.’

‘Love you too.’ Victoria was striding towards the bus shelter. ‘Have fun!’

‘I will!’ she raised a hand in salute.

Charlie stood with fists on his hip. 

113.

Jeremy’s mother was pegging dinner plates and cutlery to the washing line, gently dripping in the sunlight. Jeremy himself was sitting on his rocking chair with a dog bigger than he was curled up on his lap. His little sister was pulling a tractor through the uncut grass.

When Victoria strolled down the pavement, Jeremy’s mother had pulled out the hair dryer, its umbilicus cord made of extension cables, slithered down from the hand-held, death-cannon shaped machine, streamed through the grass and into the kitchen.

Jeremy’s mom pulled the trigger and the plates leaned away from her, droplets skidding down the plate and dripping down.

Victoria waved at Jeremy, he waved back, he patted the dogs rump so it would stop crushing him.

Didn’t budge.

The mother ignored Victoria as she walked up the walkway bisecting the garden, the little sister was walking along side her.

‘Are you alive yet?’ she asked.

Victoria frowned.

‘What do you think?’ she said.

The little sister giggled and shook her head.  

‘Vicky!’ shouted Jeremy, the dog had its front paws on the porch, and strained its spine like a cat, before it dropped its hind legs to the porch one at a time, and strolled away but not before whacking Jeremy with its bone hard tail.

He stumbled out of the chair, rushed to her, got within a foot then stepped back, to widen her invisible bubble called personal space.

‘Hi.’ He said and shot her with a point blank hand wave.

‘Wattsup? You good?’ she said reaching a hand down to stroke the dog’s head.

‘Uh,’ Jeremy scratches the back of his head, shrugs, breaks eye contact. ‘yeah. Sure, I might as well be.’

‘Jeremy with a tone like that you could not convince me that white is white and shit tastes bad.’  

‘Well I’m a bit stressed out, but y’know… you’re here, so my day’s already getting better.’

‘What’s your dog’s name?’

‘Maximus Aurelius the third, milady.’ Said the dog. ‘But the humans call me Max.’

The L.E.D and speaker in his collar shut off.

Victoria grabbed Jeremy’s bicep. ‘Jeremy the dog is talking.’

‘Oh yeah, fuck I forgot, Max can speak.’ Said Jeremy. ‘We got a collar that translates his brain waves into human speech.’

‘A pleasure to meet you,’ Max raised his paw.

Victoria shook hands with the dog, smiling.

‘A pleasure to meet you too Max.’ Said Victoria. ‘I love your accent. Do you like tea and Yorkshire pudding?’

‘Can’t stomach the stuff, most unfortunately. However,’ the dog pondered. ‘I prefer the classier, more bourgeoisie pleasantries of daily existence. Dog biscuits, water from the tap and what the DEVILS ARE YOU DOING ON MY LAWN!’ he yelled at the cat. ‘You are trespassing on private property, be gone peasant before I call the police!’

The cat merely licked its paws.  

‘The police are too good for you, eh? Jeremy, get the BB gun. Pop its eye out!’

‘No.’

‘It’s about honor Jeremy, we must put the cat in it place, we must- oh it’s gone, never mind. Sorry, I’m a dog, what was I saying?’

‘Let’s go on a picnic.’ Said Jeremy.

The dog harrumphed. ‘Perhaps you can go on a picnic, I shall be staying right here.’ He put his butt on the porch. ‘I must guard the house from intruders. Some postman might try to steal the TV. I must be an impenetrable fortress, which no burglar can penetrate.’

Jeremy pulled a dog biscuit out of his pocket.

‘Would you abandon your post for a Scooby snack?’

Max considered.

‘Is it bacon flavor?’

‘You know it is buddy.’

‘Then yes, everyone in the house can die for all I care! Gimme dat bacon!’

‘YES!’ screamed Victoria. ‘The dog is coming with us on a picnic!’

Jeremy threw Max a treat and he caught it midair.

114.

Lady Rothschild creaked her eyelids open. The room came rushing though her pupils, triggered the nerves at the back of her eyeball, electricity went skidding down the optic nerve into her brain and her visual cortex formed a picture of the room.

Her subjective experience was a whirlpool of fudge colored emotions, she was numbness, she was plastic fantastic.

It took ten minutes for the thick layer of concrete drowsiness to be flushed away and Lady Rothschild actually started to observe her body.

She reached a hand up to brush the hair out of her eyes and tugged on the part of the vacuum cleaner that had been grafted to her forehead.

‘What the-!’ she reached for the reflective basin, knocked it to the ground and fell out of bed after it, she crumpled to the floor and looked into the basin’s reflection. ‘Oh my god!’

The hammer head part of the vacuum, the mouth of the vacuum had been welded to her skull.

‘DOCTOR!’ she screamed.     

‘Ah you’re awake.’ Said the Doctor as she strolled into room.

‘What the hell did you do to me?!’

There was a silence as the two looked at each other.

The doctor let out the most massive sigh the world had ever heard.

‘So… you didn’t actually want the mouth of a vacuum cleaner stitched to your head?’

‘No! Of course not, why would anybody want this!’

The doctor let out the most massive sigh the world had ever heard before. She dragged a hand down her face.

‘Come back a week from now, and I’ll saw it off for you.’

‘Why not right now!’

The doctor murmured something plausible but really it was because she hated this patient.

Lady Rothschild screamed some more.

115.

‘Look at how awesome this picnic is.’ Said Jeremy. ‘Get a load of these apples, they’re like super apples, look at how red they are. We’ve got muffins, otherwise known as the perfect life form, sandwiches, twelve inch bananas. And look at this blanket, it’s like, we’ve covered the ground or something.’

Victoria watched Max chasing butterflies.

The air was pure, the sun was the burning tip of god’s cigar, clouds lay stretched out across the sky like lazy cats.

‘You’re right.’ Said Victoria. ‘This picnic is cool, like… meat-freezer cool, if that makes sense. I think I’m having fun.’ 

She turned around and Jeremy had the tip of a banana in his mouth.

A trickle of blood came out her left nostril.

‘Your nose is bleeding.’ Said Jeremy, as he chewed.

‘What?’ she held a hand up to her upper lip. ‘Shit.’ Jeremy was already handing her a napkin. ‘Thanks.’ She swabbed her lips. ‘IdontknowwhythathappenedImsosorry.’ She pulled the tissue away and saw written in blood: that’s the biggest lie I’ve ever heard.

Victoria swallowed, blinked and then it became an ordinary splash of blood again.

‘You okay?’ 

‘Yeah, it’s just like…’ shit, shit, shit, ‘…words, dammit, uh’ Victoria eyeballed the sky and twirled her hand, so busy trying to come up with a lie that she accidentally told the truth. ‘I saw you and the banana and got flashbacks to the times I used to watch hardcore yaoi.’

‘What’s yaoi?’

‘Don’t google it, I want you to like me.’

116.

‘Your tits look great by the way.’ Said Robert.

‘I’m not in the mood, Robert.’ Said Lady Rothschild.

They were in the car, Robert passed her the knitted cap, he’d just purchased from the charity shop. She pulled it down over her skull and over the plastic hammer head jutting out of her skull like she was some Dali steampunk interpretation of a unicorn.

‘Is it still noticeable?’ she asked.

‘It looks kind of like your trying to hide a satellite dish under knitted wool.’

‘For fuck sake.’ She huffed. ‘I’m gunna sue that doctor so fast and so hard, she sees stars and shits confetti. How much money do you think I can get?’

‘Probably somewhere around zero pounds and nothing pence.’

‘But she MUTILATED me, Robert.’

‘Yeah, but you asked her to mutilate you, signed the contract in your own blood, so no, I don’t think you get to surf out the courthouse on a tidal wave of green paper cash. If you’re lucky she might give you the lint in her pockets.’

‘This is bull shit, this entire society is rigged.’

Robert smiled.

‘If it makes you feel better, I think the cleaner head makes you look quirky, this makes you more exciting.’

‘Shut up Robert.’ She rubbed the side of her face. ‘Can you… you must have a hand saw right? Can you saw it off?’

‘I can saw it off, of course I can saw it off; do you want to go home so I can saw it off?’

‘Well duh, Robert, I’m not spending a week looking like a carnival attraction.’

The car swooped round the corner and sped off home.

117.

Victoria and Jeremy were sat on a bench as he ruffled the top of Max’s head. 

‘Who’s a good dog?’ Said Jeremy in the dog voice. ‘Who’s a good dog?’

‘Am… am I the good dog?’ asked Max.

‘Yes you are.’

Max was quiet for a second.

‘This is the best day of my life.’ He said.

Victoria felt a weird compulsion to stroke the dog, but didn’t know if it was appropriate since the dog could talk.

‘Wanna rub his belly?’ asked Jeremy.

‘Um, is that… ethical?’ she asked. Jeremy looked confused. ‘Like, can a dog even consent to something like that? I’m so sorry, I’m a bit thrown off by the fact he can talk.’

‘You don’t have to, if you don’t want to.’ Said Max.

‘No, I want to, it’s just…’ Victoria flailed for words. ‘Something about this is wrong. I don’t know what, but something…’

‘That’s fine, don’t worry about it.’ Said Jeremy.

Max turned over, and Jeremy began rubbing his belly.

‘Tee hee.’ Said Max. ‘This make me feel complete.’

‘So…’ said Jeremy. ‘Hey, did you know when sea slugs mate and there aren’t enough women to go round, the male slugs have to fence using their penises, and the loser becomes the girl of the relationship’

‘I did not.’ Said Victoria.

‘It’s cool right.’ Said Jeremy. ‘I love biology, so many impossible things.

118.

‘Where’s the handsaw?’ asked Lady Rothschild stepping through the door and peeling off her knitted cap, so she could show off her piss-take of a unicorn horn.

‘Not sure, haven’t used it in a decade or three, we can find it tomorrow?’

‘Now, Robert.’

Robert smiled, ‘I’ll check the basement.’

He clicked open the basement door, and trotted down the stairs while Lady Rothschild sat down and checked her reflection in the black mirror reflection of her iPhone.

It’s okay. She thought. It’s not that noticeable?

Oh for fuck sake, you could see it from mars, you silly bitch.

I shall not cry, I’m stronger than that.

Right next to her was the bowl of ivory paperclips carved from elephant knuckles. She picked one up, held it between finger and thumb.

‘Why do you have these again?’ Lady asked.

‘WHAT!?’ Robert yelled.

‘The bone paperclips!?’ she yelled back.

‘WHAT!?’

‘THE BONE PAPERCLIPS, WHY DO YOU HAVE THE BONE PAPERCLIPS?’

‘Oh they’re just something that happens, y’know?’

‘No I don’t know.’

‘They just happen.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean they’re inevitable.’ 

Lady Rothschild paused.

‘Is this a riddle?’

‘I can’t find the handsaw.’ He said.

‘Keep looking.’ Said Lady Rothschild.

‘Okay.’

‘What does “inevitable” mean?’

‘You don’t know what “inevitable” means?’

‘I’ve never heard the word before.’

‘But you’re a writer?’

‘So?’ she asked. ‘Just because I’m a writer doesn’t mean I’ve swallowed a thesaurus.’

‘It means “something that cannot be stopped.”’

‘Like a mountain?’

Silence.

‘What?’ came the reply.

‘Nobody can stop a mountain.’ Said Lady Rothschild.

‘I think a more fitting analogy is maybe a tsunami or something.’

‘But you can’t stop a mountain.’

‘I mean… yes?’

‘So my simile is better than your simile.’

Silence.

‘Sure.’

Lady Rothschild smirked.

‘So I win?’ she asked.

‘Win what?’

‘The analogy?’

‘You don’t win an analogy.’

‘”A bone paperclip is like a mountain”, I win the analogy.’

‘Okay you win the analogy.’

 ‘Ha ha, in your face Robert.’

‘I still can’t find the hand saw.’

‘Keep looking.’

‘You know, just because I keep looking doesn’t mean it’s suddenly going to appear, right?’

‘Keep looking.’

‘Sure, sure whatever.’

119.

Jeremy and Victoria were walking across the pond via the stepping stones, both had their arms out for balance like they were playing aero plane

The eyes of the frogs stared at them from the grass, and a fleet of ducklings were swarming across the water surface.

‘So what are you going to do for money now you don’t work at The Shop anymore?’

‘I’m gunna send off my CV to KFC, so that should work out, hopefully.’ She took a stride to the next stepping stone, then nearly bumped into Jeremy. They’d come to the last stepping stone, the path ending mid-pond. She retreated a step so they didn’t accidentally touch and all that.

Jeremy twirled around on one foot, with one leg stuck out, so that he was facing her. His legs came back together.

He rested two fists, against his hips then looked up at the sky.

Victoria watched the bump of his Adam’s apple. 

‘What you looking at?’ she asked. 

‘The sky.’

‘Why?’

He said something cheesy and romantic, and the line was so good that they were fucking at his place.

They had to sex with their clothes and coats on because the house had no insulation and they weren’t allowed to turn on the radiators.

Victoria was bouncing on top. She watched her breath steam out in front of her. Jeremy’s breath was steaming out in front of him.

‘Is that good?’ asked Jeremy.

‘Yeah, that’s good.’

‘You’d say if it wasn’t?’

‘Do you want me to keep going?’

‘Yes please.’

‘Then shut up.’

He shut up.

120.

Lady Hoover-head was having her blouse unbuttoned by the nimble fingers of her lover Robert. She copied and pulled down his zipper.

They kissed.

‘Ow my eye.’ Said Robert, the hoover having struck his retina.

‘Oh I’m so sorry.’ Said Lady Hoover-head, clasping her hands in front of her mouth.

Robert flapped a hand at her.

‘No, no it’s fine.’ His eye had been permanently rolled up to the whites, the network of blood red veins showing. ‘I’ll fix it later.’

‘That looks really serious, are you okay.’

‘I said I’ll fix it later.’

‘You look really creepy, can you fix it now?’

‘I mean- ‘

‘Hang on,’ she took him by the chin, pressed her fingerprint against the retina and rolled the eye back down, and she could see the pupil again. ‘Okay that’s better.’

‘I have a surprise for you.’

‘Oh yeah?’

‘Yeah.’

He opened the closet and pulled out thirty feet of rope.

‘BDSM milady?’

‘Ooh, he’s a kinkster.’ She said. ‘I’ve never tried it before…’

‘First time for… etcetera, etcetera.’

The clothes came flying off her like sentient kites with dreams of reaching the stars.

Robert picked her up by the armpits and threw her naked body on the bed, spun her onto her front and began weaving his spider web of ropes around her, so that her arms were straightjacketed to her torso.

‘Here comes the toys.’

Toys?

He turned something on and it sounded like the end of the world.

She tried to turn her head when Robert picked her up by the harness, putting a leg on either shoulder and tilted her so that her eyes were six inches off the ground.

Robert then began using her to hoover the dust off the floor.

He had attached her to the rest of the vacuum cleaner, a long, ribbed tube swooping from the top of her hoover head to what looked like a small jet engine.

‘Nooooooooooooooo!’ Lady screamed.

‘That’s right bitch, you’re a fucking vacuum cleaner now.’

‘Why! Why would you do this?’

‘Because I’m evil!’

‘I don’t want to be a vacuum cleaner,’ she was crying now. ‘Oh my god, oh my god, I feel so objectified!’

‘Ha ha ha!’

121.

Two orgasms and a full condom later, Jeremy was on his computer on wiki how figuring out how to properly dispose of a used condom.

‘Just flush it down the toilet.’ Said Victoria with her arms wrapped around him, and he kissed his neck.

‘Yup… says here, don’t flush it down the toilet.’

She nibbled his ear.

Jeremy removed the condom tip first, knotted it, wrapped it in a tissue and disposed of it in the trash.

He lay back down in bed beside Victoria and they tongue wrestled in a vulgar and teenage fashion.

‘You know,’ said Victoria momentarily parting from his lips. ‘I know something that will make you feel really, really good.’

‘I consent to everything.’ Said Jeremy. She tickled him, and he burst out laughing. ‘Please no, that’s my weak spot!’ He tickled her.

‘No no, you’re not allowed to tickle me back!’

They tumbled over each other and rolled over each other and tickled each other, and laughed with each other.

‘You took my son’s innocence!’ shouted Jeremy’s mom.

‘Holy shit!’ squealed Victoria as she rolled off the bed, and slammed face-first, butt-second into the floor.

Jeremy’s mom was striding towards Victoria stabbing an accusing finger in her general direction.

‘You deflowered him! Took his maidenhead, he’s worthless now!’

‘MOM GET OUT OF MY ROOM!’

‘I am so sorry.’ Said Victoria.

‘Get out of my fucking house.’

‘I am so, so sorry, I didn’t mean to…’

‘GET OUT!’ Victoria ran out of the room.

Max the dog ran beside her down the hallway.

‘What’s all this excitement about?’ he asked.

‘Shut up, I’m trying to escape.’

Victoria took the staircase three steps at a time.

‘Milady, does the wicked witch of the west want your scalp!?’ he shouted.

‘YES!’

‘I’ll slow her down!’ shouted the dog.

Max ran up to the wicked witch of the west and tried to engage her in calm and reasoned debate. ‘Victoria is not your enemy, milady. Look into your heart of hearts, you know it to be true.’

Victoria was outside now, ducked under the rack of dinner plates.

‘And take your fucking underwear too!’ shouted Jeremy’s mom.

Victoria looked over her shoulder, and a pair of boxer shorts hit her in the face.

‘MOM THAT’S MINE!’   

Victoria peeled the underwear from her face and looked down at it.

A boy’s underwear.

She put it in her pocket.

‘I’LL CALL YOU!’ shouted Jeremy right before the window slammed shut and he was gone forever.

***

CHAPTER 17