This post is a great example of why you shouldn't blog unless you have something to say, and never just to maintain frequency. Anyway, for better but probably for worse, here's the bizarre tale of the witches of Witchlea and Witchwich.
In Godknowswhere, Whogivesacrap, along the banks of Shit Creek, slouches the quaint old village of Witchlea, where most of the witches lived at one or other time, except for those who lived in the neighbouring village of Witchwich.
In WitchLea lived a young woman named Witchetty; her family name was Witch. She was Witchetty Witch, a witch of Witchlea.
In those days, people referred to other people in terms of their occupation. So a person might say “Lumberjack Jack Jackson cut down the trees”; or in Witchetty’s case, “Witch Witchetty Witch cast her spells”.
Anyway, round about the time they cleared the Witchlea Woods, occurred a dramatic if not traumatic event: the murder of Heather Headwich, Witchlea’s Head Witch.
Heather was not a popular Head Witch, for many reasons including ambivalence about her name. She had made numerous enemies in the course of her political career. So there were plenty of suspects in her murder, many people with motive, and more than a few with opportunity.
In those days Witch Witchetty Witch worked as a forensic analyst in the Pathology Lab of the Witchlea police department. Her job involved testing crime scene evidence, including so-called “sus-pecs”: suspect specimens — usually body fluids of one form or another.
Let me recap. A witchly, Witchlea witch, Witch Witchetty Witch, was a forensic analyst whose job involved testing body fluids such as blood and urine.
(And thereby hangs a urinous tail! What a hoot! In those days, “urine” was colloquially referred to as “witch-wee”, or sometimes, “witch-weewee”!)
But I digress. Let us return to the foul murder of Head Witch Hedda Headwich. After a lengthy investigation the only piece of evidence was a urine-soaked handkerchief found at the scene. The handkerchief ended up in the pathology lab in which Witch Witchetty Witch ran some magical tests to identify which micturater had micturated the suspects’ sus-pecs, suspected to be a Witchlea or a WitchWich witch which had micturated the witchweewee.
The next step was to test the witchly witchweewee of all the suspects from Witchlea and Witchwich. There were so many suspects it took weeks to conclude the testing. In relation to which, Witch Witchetty Witch formed a routine to help boost the speed and accuracy with which she conducted the tests.
On Mondays, Wednesdays and odd-numbered Fridays, she tested the Witchlea witchwee. On Tuesdays, Thursdays, and even-numbered Fridays she tested the Witchwich suspects’ suspecs.
Ultimately, the case went to Court. It was the biggest media event in the history of Godknowswhere, Whogivesacrap. As the Trial proceeded, excitement grew apace. The case was on everyone’s lips. Most of the witches watched the Trial on TV or listened to the audio on radio. And those who didn’t have a TV asked their neighbours to tell them about the latest developments.
Witch Witchetty Witch’s grandmother was in Court when the Chief Prosecutor called Witchetty as an expert witness in relation to the forensic evidence of the case. Addressing the Witness by name and job-title, per the custom, the Chief Prosecutor said:
“Witch Witchetty Witch, which witch’s witchwee, which you say you tested last Friday...”
But let’s leave it there, I think. Don’t you?
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NIGHTMERRIES: THE LIGHTER SIDE OF DARKNESS This so-called "book" will chew you up, spit you out, and leave you twitching and frothing on the carpet. More than 60 dark and feculent fictions (read ‘em and weep) copiously illustrated by over 20 grotesque images you wouldn't want to meet in a dark alley.
AWAREWOLF & OTHER CRHYMES AGAINST HUMANITY (Vot could be Verse?) We all hate poetry, right? But we might make an exception for this sick and twisted stuff. This devil's banquet of adults-only offal features more than 50 satanic sonnets, vitriolic verses and odious odes.
MANIC MEMES & OTHER MINDSPACE INVADERS A disturbing repository of quotably quirky quotes, sayings, proverbs, maxims, ponderances, adages and aphorisms. This menagerie holds no fewer than 184 memes from eight meme-species perfectly adapted to their respective environments.
MASTRESS & OTHER TWISTED TAILS, ILLUSTRATED: an unholy corpus of oddities, strangelings, bizarritudes and peculiaritisms
FIENDS & FREAKS Adults-only Tales of Serpents, Dragons, Devils, Lobsters, Anguished Spirits, Gods, Anti-gods and Other Horse-thieves You Wouldn't Want to Meet in a Dark Kosmos: 4th Edition
HAGS TO HAGGIS Whiskey-soaked Tails of War-nags, Witches, Manticores and Escapegoats, Debottlenecking and Desilofication, Illustrated
If you and I were strolling along the beach and we bumped into a wanton willing witch in a teeny-weeny yellow polka-dot bikini... we'd have a sandwitch sandwich, wouldn't we?
Antares, thanks for your comment. As you can see, at least I've had the decency to back-date this post to the archives. Appreciate your stopping by.
COMMENTS? Come on... gimme your best shot!