Qwuggell

I am standing looking down on the entrance to a zoo enclosure. It is in an approximate angular 'Y' shape, a single corridor taking a left and right turn before returning straight, each subsequent corridor leading to a sliding 'guillotine' gate into the enclosure. A beautiful white tiger is prowling herein. I am vexed as it is set upon by two rabbits. These animals have very long front teeth and they sink them into the tiger's neck, latching on and gripping it tightly. The tiger struggles as much as possible but the rabbits hold fast. It's as if they are draining the tiger's life force – its fur becomes lank and matted and it visibly begins to thin, the bones coming to the surface through the weakened muscle, the initial effort to shake them off dying away. Fortunately it survives-

https://stkittsvet.co.uk

I watch as a small shoebox, containing what I think to be two guinea pigs, sits at the bottom of the (now empty) enclosure. I see them shuffling around inside and try to work out exactly what type of animal they are. They emerge from the box and crawl up the vertical wall towards me. Over the course of this 2 metre journey they transform and when the arrive at the summit they seem to be nothing more than beetle-esque shaped blue and white plasticine blobs-

Wumf

“You couldn't make it up... ...but that did actually happen!”

Tonstlipp

I take a single, small headphone speaker and put it in my mouth and, in spite of the expectation of crunching on lots of electronic components, I find eating it to be much the same as munching on a Skittle-

I am rehearsing (out loud) Monty Python's 'Dead Parrot Sketch', lingering over the opening lines, a variation (incorrect, of course) on John Cleese beginning with “Good afternoon” and Michael Palin countering with an amiable “Good morning”, the comedy (somehow) taking off from there. I have a landscape format poster showing a black ink reproduction of a photograph on a deep blue background, the names “Cleese” and “Palin” in the top corners, left and right respectively, a thick black band running across the bottom. I am practically rehearsing into this artifact. I seem to be in a sort of glazed shopfront and I watch a lady walk past on the other side of the road quickly followed by a young Michael Palin who scuttles after her (his wife?) in the semi-darkness. I am disappointed to see him pass by as I continue with my theatrical run-through, wishing he had noticed/heard me. I am delighted when he does indeed come over only a few moments later, adopting an impoverished pose outside the shop, the poster propped at his back. He is soon joined by Eric Idle – does the poster change to “Cleese” and “Idle”? - and the pair of them sit dejected, hunched there on the pavement. I make some joke about “will perform the Parrot Sketch for food” which we all find very amusing-

I have decided I must take a photo of the poster (complete with an overlay of white writing) to send to my friend Ayy Ess – I have to attest to the fact that I am with Palin and Idle. Unfortunately I cannot get sufficient light to do this and I adopt a strange, knock-kneed, zombie-esque shamble as I walk over to the tall rear window. I manage to avoid the numerous empty plastic bottles, each with a baby bottle (sterilising?) inside, but cannot help but bump into two tall, hollow, metal canisters, sending them clattering to the floor. Michael Palin suddenly beats me to the far wall and draws up the roller blind at the large window, flooding the space with light-

Hwanzahh

 

I am visiting one of my old workplaces, HaitchPee, to ask about the possibility of being reemployed. The office environment is much changed – where I expected a bright, spacious front room populated by staff I find it has been completely vacated and the opening blocked off by a clumsily erected cardboard construct, taped into place. I explore and make my way up a wide curving staircase. My old boss, Gee Emm, sits at a desk to the left at the top of this stair, and Kay Ess, another company director, sits across from him, over to my right. I am still standing on the stairs and conduct my conversation with Gee from there, (awkwardly) talking to him over the rail. I make a pun, taking a statement of his and quoting it back at him, changing one word to “birth” for comic effect – my newborn son is imminent and although the tone is jocular my situation is quite desperate. With a sly wink Gee says he has heard as much, and knows that I am soon to be a father-

Gee calls a sudden staff meeting and everyone assembles around a large oval desk. Once everyone has shuffled into place - there seems to be a single empty chair which I assume is for me – Gee quickly (and jokingly) quickly dispells this notion with an aside to the assembled staff. And so I watch from my position on the stairs, Gee's chummy orating slowly drowned out by hip-hop-esque beats. My view is then interrupted as someone dressed as a great purple phoenix stands in front of the table, slowly flapping their outstretched feathered arms and further distracting me from what is going on-