January 29, 2003

Lock and low, dead.

Heinz grunted, reached into his pocket, and pulled out what looked like a Swiss Army knife. A Swiss Army Knife that had found itself up against every Asian technological device ever made, and was determined not to be embarrassed. It glinted. It gleamed. It beeped.

<i>My god, it beeped</i>! Sabrina stomach’s switched from turning to the extreme spin cycle. Heinz glanced at her, and grinned. He put the jewel box down, and pressed a button on the side of the knife.

Time, like Sabrina, stood still.

And instead of a blade, a small, perfect blue flame sprung forth. Which Heinz used to light a cigarette that had magically appeared in his other hand. Heinz and Sabrina simultaneously exhaled, and for entirely different reasons. Smoke wreathed his bad orb. This time, it didn’t blink.

“Ja, is a gut toy, no?” said Heinz, indicating the knife-lighter-device. “Custom made, vile I vos… away. Has many… <i>specialized</i>… functions. Vud you like a demonstration of a few of zem?”

Sabrina was about to decline, when the sound of water splashing, and thumping noises emanated from the bathroom. Three eyes turned to face the bathroom door.


One eye quizzed her mercilessly, the other just glared balefully. She hated him for that.

“That’s, uh, my, uh, maid. Yes, maid. We had a bit of a wild party last night… now there’s a bad mark in the bathroom which I, um, asked her to deal with. “

  :::  a Written ritual performed at 03:37 PM   :::