Mental Emasculation: Captain Morgan’s Spiced Revenge Part 13


Concerning the Manticore on the other side of the door.  

  

At this point in my life, I had never heard of Erwin Schrodinger; nor his philosophical hypothesis regarding cats locked in boxes, so it would have come as a surprise to find I was away to replicate the experiment with a potentially pissed off Manticore.  

Mental Emasculation: Captain Morgan’s Spiced Revenge Part 12


It would have been a picture-perfect moment, had I not seethed with angry arousal, nor lacked a suitably hygienic ‘pocket’ with which to stash my phone. Chasity had fallen asleep with her face smooshed against the saliva smeared window. Tendrils of spit fanned outwards like a cinematic splash of water, displaced by the rumbling rasp of her syrupy snores. The sound conjuring the illusion of a steam train choking on the last dregs of water as it painfully limped along the tracks. 

Mental Emasculation: Captain Morgan’s Spiced Revenge Part 11


According to the tourist guide of this proud yet sinful city, Bugsy Brown’s was one of the less reputable gentlemen’s clubs hidden within the sprawling shambles of the old city centre.  

In keeping with the aesthetic appeal of ‘Den of depravity and sin’, Bugsy’s offered a more traditional experience for the less discerning customer, replete with quintessential features such as; thick velvet drapes, nicotine smoked windows, sultry lighting and an atmosphere thick with mood too make even the most angst-ridden Will-o-the-wisp choke under the oppressive ambience of the club. 

Mental Emasculation: Captain Morgan’s Spiced Revenge Part 10


A phone call in the early hours of the morning is a painful, bewildering experience that will very rarely have a happy conclusion. Similar, in fact, to placing your penis within the lubricated nozzle of a vacuum cleaner before gingerly tapping the ‘on’ button with your foot. If only to see what all the fuss was about. 

Mental Emasculation: Captain Morgan’s Spiced Revenge Part 9


A light misting of joyful drizzle swept the rain-slick streets in waves, gradually washing away indiscriminate puddles of overindulgence as it gurgled through the gutters like perverse laughter. Caught in a sigh of wind, rain danced and billowed through the neon haze of pink and blue, forcing Chasity to avert her gaze from the gaudy spectacle.  

Mental Emasculation: Captain Morgan’s Spiced Revenge Part 8


“Chas-i-ty, Chas-i-ty, Chas-i-ty, Chas-i-ty!” 

Chasity concentrated as much as her inebriation would allow, which was roughly that of a hyperactive Were-rabbit bouncing off the walls after mistaking a horseradish for her carrot-shaped dildo. Never questioning why she kept her sex toys in the basket beside less forgiving root vegetables. Chasity could feel the soul of the lounge pounding in sync with her heartbeat, accompanied by the rhythm of heavy footsteps on the slick yet sticky floor. Laughter thrummed through the melodic clink and tinkle of glasses and optics, its sour breath the very essence of desperation. Dank air dripped with personality, a miasma of testosterone, alcohol-laden sweat, stale nicotine and cheap aftershave in eye-watering abundance, bringing with it an unwelcome wave of nausea. Happily oblivious to the fact she was part of the cloying stench.  

Mental Emasculation: Captain Morgan’s Spiced Revenge Part 7


“Come on, swallow it ye useless bitch!” 

Pleading, tear-filled eyes gazed up at Chasity, cowering within the darkness of her imposing presence as oppressive red light cast a sinister shadow upon Chasity’s sickening grin. Closing his eyes, humiliation ran down Fat Neck’s face, cheeks puffy and damp from the abuse suffered at the paws of the vindictive Manticore. Face pulling into a grimace, he forced himself to swallow, almost gagging as the sickening liquid slid across his tongue and burned down his gullet. 

Mental Emasculation: Captain Morgan’s Spiced Revenge Part 6


Bickering, name-calling, malignant breast fondling and the aggressive brandishing of a dainty handbag heralded the tumultuous and rather public departure of a struggling Francesca from the dance floor. Dragged away from the riotous hen party by her beloved sparkly angel wings, miraculously surviving the Kobold’s antics throughout the evening. Now the flamboyant accessories were a twisted mess of silver and pink tinsel with the pretentious air of abstract art. 

Mental Emasculation: Captain Morgan’s Spiced Revenge Part 5


Blue haze rolled out from the crowded smoking shelter in its pursuit to pollute the brisk night air. Granted, there were only two people in what appeared to be an old, repurposed bus shelter still scarred with badly spelt graffiti, but Danielle and Chasity could take up a fair bit of room if they set their mind to it. Both suffered the unenviable ability to inadvertently repel people, like sharks swimming through a school of fish. Handy when walking down the street, but a pain in the arse when you wished to socialise.  

Mental Emasculation: Captain Morgan’s Spiced Revenge Part 4


Watching Chasity during her drunken antics always reminded Danielle of being at the zoo. An animal trying to crack open a coconut to get at the sweet flesh inside when the only tool at her disposal was an evolutionary predisposition for brute force, and an inability to think her way around an obstacle that didn’t include a larger rock.