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Published: February 26th 2007
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A Pipe Advice
"I believe that pipe smoking contributes to a somewhat calm and objective judgement in all human affairs." -Albert Einstein, 1950 “I never thought
I would get out again. Hurrah!”
The
Pipemaker and the fairy looked at each other astonished and quite a bit amused.
“So, who would you be then, if I may ask?” The Pipemaker asked the little green man.
“My name is
I and I’m the genie of the bag.” He proudly announced with a perky accent.
“Wow, so that means that I’ll get three wishes now!” The fairy exclaimed excitedly.
“Hold your donkeys Ms. that was a long time ago. Things have changed, these days you’re lucky if even one wish gets granted.”
“For magic to happen, people must believe in it. In today’s society of internetocrats and mp3’ed blogoneers there’s no need for the belief in fairytales anymore. Our powers have kinda’ diminished, you could say.” He said and shrugged his shoulders.
“So for how long have you been inside the bag?” The fairy asked the green little genie.
“I’ve been in that bag for ages and ages. My master
Yaduraya Wodeyar - the Maharaja of
Mysore - put me there to keep all his belongings in order. To not forget me inside, we decided to change my name into I, since that was something
I. Genie.
The genie named I had a proclivity for bovine funk. When I told him (I) about the Belgian-Blue the green genie got so excited over the news that he (I) yodeled the entire cow-gospel. the self-absorbed Maharaja would never forget. Everything worked just fine until he suddenly died.”
The genie was eccentrically gesticulating while the Pipemaker and the fairy tried their best to follow his story.
“Ever since his death, I’ve tried to make someone think about me,
I, but until now, I’ve always failed” He explained.
“Would you at least grant me one wish then?” The fairy asked.
“You should know that I’ve both went horseback on
Sleipner and I’ve rafted the
Styx with
Phlegyas. There are few things that I haven’t had the power to do, but, as I said, things have changed. You can always wish, but I can’t guarantee that I can make your wish come true.”
“Do you think you could mend my broken wings?” The fairy crossed her fingers.
“Nope.”
“What about giving me a whisper of a ghost then?”
“Not that either.”
“So what are you actually good for then? Could you at least help me to milk
Daisy the holy cow?”
“I could try. In my home country
India I was once engaged to a holy cow, so I know more or less which teats to pull, if you know what
I mean. But, as
I Ali. T. Alia.
Around Easter this little chap introduced himself as Ali. T. Alia, and said he was a stand-in for the Easter-bunny. Later the Easter-bunny was found back-tied on a garbage-heap in Mitchell's plain. Ali. T. Alia was by then far away with all the chocolate eggs he'd stolen. said, don’t expect any miracles.”
The fairy didn’t really get what he meant but agreed to let him try sweet-talking Daisy.
The Pipemaker relit his pipe and wished them good luck as they walked over to Daisy who was resting in the grass, a pipe’s throw away.
“Let me do the talking.” The genie insisted, hushed the fairy with his little hand and read a poem about green pastures and clover to the cow.
Daisy glanced at him, but little else.
“Ok, I’ll have to try something special then. Hmm?” He scratched his goatee for a few seconds and began singing to Daisy in a tongue the fairy had never heard before. When he was done he was all sweaty and short of breath, but all Daisy had done this time was to stand up.
“This was harder than I expected, few cows resist the
Oath to an Udder chanted in Vedic Sanskrit. This will be a though nut to crack. Luckily I still have an ace up my sleeve.” He cracked his green knuckles.
“But why can’t we just ask her nicely?” Said the fairy.
“Well if you want to try, please go ahead.” Answered
I.
“Daisy,
Oath to an udder
The good old Oath to an Udder, didn't pull the right strings, but at least it got Daisy moving. I assume that you - just like everyone else here one the farm - knows about my predicament. That’s why I ask you, would you give me some of your milk?” The fairy said forthright.
“But of course I would,
If only I could.
First let me reveal.
That my udder is sealed,
Since I’m the holy mother.” Daisy recited.
“Let me try a spell then to open the udder. I think I remember an old spell I once learned from a bovine warlock.” The genie whispered to the fairy who concurred.
“Daisy would you mind if we at least tried once?” The fairy asked, but Daisy didn’t mind.
“Disappointed you’ll be,
Once you see.
That my udder is dry,
But hey! Let’s give it a try.” She said, and turned around while the fairy quickly ran to fetch a bucket.
Then they began.
The fairy placed herself next to the udder while the little genie cleared his throat and started performing his peculiar spell:
“Poco, Loco, Smocko-Clocko,
Wow thou Cow on How thou Plow,
Pocketi-Pox Mucho Choco Moloko!”
The genie chanted while the fairy sat holding the teats of Daisy’s udder. As
Like a virgin, Touch for the very first time
Daisy the Cow was as holy as Virgin Mary, Momma-ji of baby Jissus so she was more revered than the holy cows of India. A Brahman pilgrimage to worship her godly powers was conducted once a year by chillum-induced hippies from the Himalayas. So to milk that golden cow would be as difficult for the fairy as snatching the Alhajar Al-Aswad from the Ka'bah in Mecca. he uttered the words
Choco Moloko a small drop of hazelnut brown liquid dripped off one of the teats, into the bucket. Then another drop, and another one, until the whole udder was pouring with liquid.
Since the milk poured by itself, the fairy went to get a second bucket instead. As she got back the first one was already full.
“How do you stop it?” She screamed to the genie while switching the two buckets.
“Aaaaah? I’m not really sure. I’m just as surprised as you and Daisy that this actually worked.” The genie answered.
The second bucket quickly filled up too, and the milk started to trickle down the hillside.
“Well do something; otherwise the whole kingdom will soon be filled with…” The fairy dipped her finger in the milk and tasted.
“Chocolate milk?” She said surprised.
“Yes, it was the only spell I remembered. I used it once on one of the maids, during the birthday party of the Maharaja’s daughter. Of course the maid got very upset, but we needed the chocolate milk for a big cake, you see.” He said then stroked his beard and looked contemplative.
“But how did I actually stop it?”
Electromechanical Keeper of Order
The spirited robot 318808, kept order among the many objects inside the Store house. His name 318808, should actually be read upside down, they said. He said pondering.
By now the trickle had turned into a stream that flowed down the hill towards the kitchen. Daisy didn’t look happy at al, when she saw what was happening with her udder.
“Aha, now I remember.” He cleared his throat.
“Ne Cocho, Mo Slow
No Choco, Le Flow
E Stoppo Moloko!”
All three of them stood looking at the udder. Daisy, with her head bent underneath her front legs looked desperate and the fairy kept her fingers crossed.
All three of them exhaled with relief as they witnessed how the chocolate milk slowly stopped dripping.
“I can’t promise that it won’t start pouring again, but I hope that the counter spell I performed, will prove strong enough.” The genie told them.
Daisy looked calm again and smiled.
“A positive surprise, I’ve got milk with a spice.
My sealed udder was vice,
These new flavoured teats are twice as nice.
I’m cool as ice!” She told the fairy.
“I’m glad you’re okay Daisy. I’m sorry for putting you through all this.” The fairy said.
“I’ll see if I can find a sealable container for the milk. Can you wait here and watch it
The leg of Mata Hari
Not a leg to stand on? The prosthesis was hollow and used to smuggle secret documents during WWII. I'm just pulling your leg. while I’m gone? It won't take long.” She asked them.
The genie said it was no problem and Daisy nodded in approval, despite the fact that she looked a bit unhappy about being left alone with the prying green genie.
The fairy then ran into the closest building, which happened to be the big storehouse.
Almost immediately she got lost among the overabundance of odds and ends that was hoarded inside. The wooden leg of
Mata Hari, bookshelves built with planks from the
arch of the covenant, Talking-Board tablets from the
Easter Island, the
Gnostic Gospel, A map of
Atlantis, unreleased
Beatles albums, a tusk from
Baby Ganesh,
Emperor Ming’s oracle bones and a toilet from
Eldorado, solely carved in gold - was among the many objects she found.
This was bric-a-brac straight out of the history books.
Eventually she found a suitable container. It was a wooden jug with old inscriptions and a rubber lid, which she put into her bag and hurried back.
As she got back to the entrance of the storehouse she noticed that the flap to the cellar was open.
A rickety ladder led down the hole to a
Trap door
The flap of the cellar door was left open, since Wanga & Aviwe tried to build an automatically closing flap, but by mistake built an automatically opening flap, instead. damp earth floor.
She climbed down and peered into the darkness that surrounded her. Vaguely she could see how tunnels disappeared in all directions, and as she walked around for a bit, she soon realised that this was a huge tunnel system.
“I better not get lost down here,” she thought to herself, and decided to turn back to the ladder. As she turned, she suddenly felt an uncomfortable presence.
“Who are you?” She called out in the darkness.
“The question is: Who are you that dare to enter my vault?” A cold voice whispered in her ear.
The spirit of Ubuntu was for some reason not with her, and for the first time she felt scared. She rushed back to the ladder and started to climb.
“No! Please wait!” The voice uttered.
“I’m sorry. This always happens. The few times people actually get down her, I get carried away and I scare them off.” The voice explained and the fairy stopped climbing, as she was halfway up the ladder.
“My name is
Adonis, and I live here in this cellar.”
The fairy tried to see who was talking to her.
“It’s no good;
Down in the cellar
The leg of a child. A plastic child... you can’t see me since I’m a ghost.”
“So what are you doing here in the cellar?” Said the fairy, who still tried to catch a glimpse of whom she was speaking to.
“I was part of a long voyage - a fleet of five boats, sent out by the pharaoh, and we made camp here for the summer harvest. After the harvest, the ships left, and I was told by my commander to stay here and guard the ground. He said that upon their return, a new
Phoenician empire would thrive, and I was promised a burial in
King Hannibal’s personal tomb.” The ghost of Adonis whispered.
“For the first 2000 years, not much happened and I felt quite lonely since for some reason, the natives here found me scary. Then suddenly, some 500 years ago, a lot of ships arrived.
At first I thought they came for me, but quickly I realised that that wasn’t the case, since they too, were frightened by my appearance. Since more and more people arrived, I decided not to go out at all, because I seem to scare everyone.”
“But why don’t you fly home?” The fairy asked.
“I have no
Mrs Asphyxiation.
Adonis maid was a real Iron Maiden always a bit pale and totally lacking wit, they were ma(i)de for each other.
wings and I don’t know where I would go, it’s probably too far anyway.” The voice sounded indignant.
“Just get a map and find out where your home is, then take a plane there.”
“A plane?”
“Yes, an aeroplane! They take passengers and fly all over the world. Since you’re invisible you could sneak aboard without paying.”
“Flying? But is that safe?” The ghost sounded sceptical.
“I don’t think you have to worry too much about safety, in your present state.”
“So where can I meet one of these aeroplanes?” He asked.
“Well, you don’t have to meet them. They’re not living, they’re like huge ships without oars or sails, and they weigh ten times more than your old ships. You can find them here at a place called an airport.” The fairy explained.
“No, oars, no sails and they’re heavier than a boat. And you expect me to believe that they can fly? I might be a ghost but I’m no fool.” The voice uttered.
“Suit yourself, but what I say is true. If you weren’t half as stubborn as you are, and got yourself a map instead, I could show you how to get home.” The fairy
The Bone collector
The skeleton piano-chair was once used by Mozart. The rest of the bones had been collected by the ferry-man Phlegyas, when people couldn't pay the price for the ride over Styx. put it in plain words and a short silence followed.
“Wait here for a few minutes while I go and get a few maps for us”. The voice disappeared and the fairy stepped down from the ladder onto the moist cellar floor again.
A few minutes later a pile of atlases and maps came elegantly levitating down the hole to the cellar, until they suddenly fell on the ground with a crash.
“He must have fallen.” The fairy thought as she saw the maps crash on the ground.
“Are you okay?” She called out.
“I’m fine. Just not as vigorous as in my youth, that’s all. Now have a look at these.” The voice whispered and tried to sound unaffected, but the fairy noticed how the voice from time to time moaned about phantom pain in a leg.
She sat down next to the pile on the ground and opened an atlas. Then, in the poor light, she started slowly and accurately to browse the many maps, which the ghost of Adonis had brought her.
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