Category: Writing
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Agatho Wagner is a proud-strutting myriapod full of mathematical magnificence expressed physically as troubling angles and lines.
Resplendent.
Repugnatorial.
Agatho takes the utmost pleasure in obnoxion and fully appreciates the disgust by which he is defined across the varied planes.
Agatho does not ever speak but writes instead long missives in a tiny hand with a fine-feathered quill and leaves them on the floor for you to try and avoid reading.
Don’t ever read them on pain of death.
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With a stench from beyond space and time Mally Jaqueminet appears. She is wreathed in rotting weeds.
‘Nihil her thing best,’ says Jodocus Meaddowcraft. ‘See shining eye danger her facing you. Malingering. Moody. Malevolent. Malicious. Magnificent. Murderous. Mean. Malodorous.’
Mally bows lows to the watching world. Jodocus Meaddowcraft continues.
‘Calamitous. Deadly. Dire. Noxious. Pernicious. Ruinous. Sinister. Threatening. Venomous. Vindictive. Woeful.’
Thesauritical in his approach, Jodocus Meaddowcraft delights in introducing the world to his world.
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Another appears. Bulbous. Slime-lined. Mollusc.
‘Einav Dionisii,’ waves Jodocus Meaddowcraft. ‘Wrong all do. Evil only evil only ever.’
Einav clears his throat and begins to speak like the discord of a rusty orchestra.
‘More more agathokakological, gathered ones. A-G-A-T-H-O-K-A-K-O-L-O-G-I-C-A-L. Mainly leaning one way and then other but balanced overall.’
Jodocus Meaddowcraft begs to differ. ‘Balance not. Balance not.’
When Einav Dionisii smiles the world feels just a bit more glum.
‘Disagreatum est, felice! Disagreatum.’
Jodocus Meaddowcraft doesn’t approve of disagreement and demonstrates his disapproval by deigning to smile.
‘Not cross me, Bulbo! Not no never now!’
Save
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‘Here Bartholomaus Hamson introducing,’ says Jodocus Meaddowcraft. ‘Lieutenant. Sidekick. Limb.’
Bartholomaus Hamson is an ugly brute of a manstrosity.
‘Herds Bartholomaus Hamson the Unslept,’ continues Jodocus Meaddowcraft. ‘Guidance divining crowd control.’
Bartholomaus Hamson offers his sleaziest of smiles.
‘Grin on, fine friend,’ says Jodocus Meaddowcraft. ‘Planet now feeling fear and not happiness.’
Bartholomaus Hamson begins to shuffle inconveniently and though the world could never know this is Bartholomaus Hamson expressing his joy at arriving through spontaneous dance. His dermatitis skin forms new flabs and folds and flakes as Bartholomaus gathers an unseemly pace.
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The next morning.
‘I am obtuse from now forever,’ declares Jodocus Meaddowcraft. ‘We have seen enough of your foolish world to be anything other than annoyed for having been summoned through your stupidity.’
Jodocus smiles.
‘Furthermore, you will now find it hard to understand me when I speak.’
Another smile.
‘But just before that happens just always know that I only have your worst interests at heart. There can never be doubt with this.’
Jodocus Meaddowcraft clicks his fingers.
‘Sense now over gone forever hard speaking me confusion reigns misunderstanding.’
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‘There is a multitude of us,’ says Jodocus Meaddowcraft. ‘One after the other and then the next again forever now. More than you can count.’
‘Behold the Unslept’ says Jodocus Meaddowcraft, pointing at the screen. ‘See how they play.’
Jodocus laughs.
‘Each one summoned by a mistyped search.’
The Assembly looks and what it sees chills to the bone. A hundred thousand million figures in perpetual tortured motion; fighting and climbing and dancing and jumping, in gangs and alone, all moving forever. The image is grainy but there was no doubt as to what the world is seeing, the end of itself. They begin materializing. All the shapes and sizes you can imagine. Many you cannot hope to.
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‘I bet you don’t even know what I am?’ Jodocus Meaddowcraft continues. ‘Saint? Resurrect? Alien? Visitor? Deity? Destroyer? Saviour? Traveller?’
No one knows what to say to Jodocus Meaddowcraft. Advice is sought but not provided.
‘No whispering,’ whispers Jodocus Meaddowcraft loudly as delegates confer. ‘Do not talk amongst yourselves any longer. Only to me with the conditions I have outlined.’
Jodocus Meaddowcraft looks around.
‘This building is about to be off-limits to you all so please get ready to leave straightaway.’
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‘I don’t know what I want with you yet,’ says Jodocus Meaddowcraft to the General Assembly of the United Nations. ‘You brought me here and I haven’t had time to formulate a plan.’
All languages at once are heard true in his ear. Only the world cannot hear each other.
‘You gathered people are right to be afraid because it was a terrible idea to wake me up and get me here from there. A terrible idea.’
The Assembly have no words.
‘I will take petitions like a king from old. You may visit me in my court. I will accept tributes of all and every kind. I will read four letters a day but only if they are handwritten. Be there in person and be prepared to wait for a long time.’
Jodocus Meaddowcraft turns to leave.
‘I warn you though,’ he says over his shoulder. ‘I cannot ever be fair.’
Save
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Sea levels start to rise. Waves lap. Buildings now bob. Submerged where once they stood tall and proud. Clouds boil black and fearful. Deserts grow tall green grass springing from the dirty sand.
‘Simple tricks,’ says Jodocus Meaddowcraft. ‘Pointless entertainments designed not to prove worth but to simply demonstrate. D-E-M-O-N-STRATE.’
Mere feints and darts. Patients are miraculously healed and tumours disappear. But churches collapse. Ocean liners sink without trace. Airplanes vanish. Technologies begin their fail. Countries start to starve.
‘This is what I mean by disorder,’ smirks Jodocus Meaddowcraft. ‘In the time we have already spent together I have brought seventy six species of plants and animals back from extinction whilst also removing 0.000002% of the world’s population.’
Jodocus Meaddowcraft looks through the camera into the eyes of the world.
‘The question is what next?’
