---------------------------------------------------------------------- Addendum Textfiles / 3.2 / Friday the 16th of May 2003 ---------------------------------------------------------------------- 'The Washer' By Steak ¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯ And it wasn’t until we had both been thrown off one of those huge rotating fair ground rides, -our deaths certain and guaranteed instantaneous, our bodies about to be mangled into disgusting bloody grotesque representations of the living humans before hand by the increasingly speedy approaching ground -that he told me that he hadn’t killed my pet cat, and I actually believed him. But that’s another story all together. This is the story of a washing machine A little while ago I was searching for cool looking things in somebody else’s cellar when I came across an old top loading washing machine. Now I have come across disused washing machines before and as such, one like this wouldn’t normally attract my attention, except maybe to remove the rotating barrel from inside. These make excellent fire drums, but getting the bugger out it is a hard process. This particular washing machine was old, though not rusted, it was a little run down, a hole here or there but all together it was a pretty unremarkable washer. The only thing that made this one different from the rest was that it stunk like shit. Real shit, it smelled like bad human waste with another aroma I couldn’t quite place my finger on and because of this somehow my curiosity was aroused. I walked over to the machine and gave it a kick, it seemed to rumble a little, and so I imagined that there was something dead on the inside. Probably someone’s over-loved pet snatching a moment away for itself, just to quietly crawl away and peacefully die somewhere, I thought. I gingerly concentrated my attention to the lid of the machine; when I touched it, I thought I felt it vibrate somewhere down in the hulk of the wreck, but I couldn’t be sure. Holding my nose I lifted the lid slightly, maybe only half a centimetre when the shit really hit the fan. The lid flew open and a gust of overpowering stench blew out, enough to make me stumble backwards for a second. When I regained my senses I made my way back to the machine and looked inside. Inside was not the standard rusty washing machine barrel I expected to see but a deep cavernous interior that was filled with flames. The feel of the heat was almost too much for me as a strained my eyes to see anything but fire, smoke and brimstone. Then deep inside the washing machine I saw a large face coming towards me, it was a hideous red colour with horns poking out from the skull that you could see, thanks to it being mostly an exoskeleton. The being spoke: "Behold, for I am the one called Lucifer, the one they call ‘the devil’ and the one they describe as ‘pure evil’! This place you see before you is the closest thing to the place you call hell, it is the end of the road for you here, for you are now under my control. You will be forced to live out eternity in everlasting pain and torment at the will of myself and the other demons" The devil let out a horrendous laugh that shook the entire foundations of the house, which reminded me that I had better be quiet or I might wake up the occupants. I took one more look at the hideous face staring at me out of the pits of hell and I slammed the lid. "I’m nicking this," I said and checking to see that it wasn’t plugged in I carried the huge thing home in the back of somebody else’s car and set it up in my basement. I sat there for a second and wondered what to do with the thing. I opened the lid again and the same roaring voice boomed out at me "Behold, for I am the one called Lucifer, the one they" I slammed the lid again. I wasn’t quite sure what to do with the thing so I thought and thought and thought some more until I came up with the perfect solution. I’ll drop First Man in there! I grabbed the cordless phone and dialled the number of Ammervale Police station. "Hello?" Said the operator "Hi there!" I said, "Can I please talk to first man? You should find him in cell 3A. I believe he’s been waiting there for me to finish his story for about a month now" "Sure thing Sir, I’ll just grab him for you" I waited a little while and first man came on the line, he was angry at first for me leaving him alone for months on end, again. Yet again I listened to him for a second and then changed the subject to the fact I had a portal to hell sitting in my basement. He quickly shut up and told me he would be round in a second, I didn’t tell him I wanted to push him into it, he might not have come round if I had told him that. When he got here I walked him down to the basement telling him not to worry, I had already slammed the lid twice on the devil and the only way the thing could hurt you was if you actually got inside it, and what were the chances of that happening? He stopped me for a second and made an off-topic observation. "Hey Steak" he said I took time out from my psychotic-artistic-betterment-obsessed personality to answer his question. "Yep?" I said, trying to come off like I wasn’t falling apart into tiny little broken-glass like shards inside "Ever since you first created me back in the day you have been calling me ‘first man’ it seems a little stupid to call me ‘first man’ just because you were so bored that you didn’t want to think of a name a few months ago. I mean I have been in quite a few stories now, don’t you think it’s about time I had a name?" I considered his proposal, and I decided that artistically it was better to give him a name. I thought for a little while and decided on the name "Fair enough" I said "If you want a name then it shall be so, I will name you Thomas McPeppers" "Actually" he said "I have developed a fondness for the name David, I have been reading the history books a little recently and I think that strategic commander David Frohike from World War Two really correlates me well. The normal Joe, with that little bit of extra ‘something’ that enables me to practically see oncoming traps and ambushes as if I had a highly tuned sense for the thing" Seeing my obvious disgust with his obnoxious hero worship he quickly tried to compromise "What about a combination of the two, perhaps David Thomas, or Thomas Frohike, or maybe even Thomas McDavidon.." "Nonsense" I said "Your name shall be Thomas McPeppers and that’s the final word understand?" "Right" he said, "Thomas McPeppers, yay" "Hey you want to go back to First man?" I threatened "No" "Well then. Now Tom get over here and check out this portal to hell" Hearing the phrase he plucked up a little bit and came over to see what all the fuss was about, he complained a little about the smell but opened the lid anyway. The Devil came out with his normal booming roar announcing who he was and where he was from, (like it wasn’t obvious) and while tom was still perplexed by the fallen angle’s words I grabbed his legs and forced him into the hell portal. As I watched him fall I heard him scream out "You’ll pay for this Steak!" "That’s what you Always say Thomas McPeppers!" I yelled after him When he was out of eye shot I slammed the lid, turned the light off and went up stairs to make a nice relaxing cup of mild roast coffee. ---------------------------------------------------------------------- What you just read was copyright the respective author who should appear at the top of the page. Addendum just passes the file on to you: the reader. Should you wish to copy this file and give it to anyone else your more than welcome but please leave the file exactly how it is now. Thankyou. ----------------------------------------------------------------------