|The Return Of Falconer
||[May. 9th, 2005|03:27 pm]
|||||Momus - Spooky Kabuki PREMIX||]|
The girl was extraordinarily slender, flat-chested, with a small bottom entirely covered in blood.
Falconer's beak-like nose sniffed the hotel room's musky atmosphere. There was Crime here. And only he, the great consulting detective, possessed of supernatural skills honed by years as a professional lover of all mammals, could possibly solve this case.
The policeman wept in the corner. He didn't want this case. Something was profoundly Wrong with it. The girl wept on the bed, three pints of blood drying stickily on her bare backside. And there was an extremely old man on the floor with no penis.
Falconer contemplated the scene, taking a reviving pinch of snuff off the back of his hideously stained wrist.
"I must examine you," he said to the girl, not unkindly. She drew up her knees in fear. Falconer gently turned her over on to her front, and beckoned the sobbing officer over.
"Here now. Here is the truth of it."
His finger probed with great care between her scarlet buttocks. "There," Falconer hissed. "Do you see it?"
"Oh my God," whispered the policeman. "It has teeth."
"Indeed," said the great detective. "Anus dentata. Rare, but all too real. The old gentleman on the floor with no undercarriage preferred to take his pleasure through the tradesman's entrance. However -- "-- Falconer tapped the rim of the organ with his fingertip, and red fangs clacked down to form a sharp enamel iris -- "-- involuntary, you see? A convulsive action, severing and quite possibly devouring the decedent's erection."
The policeman slumped to his knees. "They hate me. Why else would they give me the guy who died of anal sex as a first case?"
"Nonsense. This is a very important case, young man. It's not every day a bishop dies of anus dentata."
"Note the boyish figure of the poor owner of these hidden jaws. Note that the discarded school uniform features a trouser rather than a skirt. This unpenised man of God was attempting to wean himself off choirboys. It would be sad if, frankly, it were not so very funny."
"Exeunt," Falconer crowed, pausing only to lift the bishop's wallet before lurching out of the room for the Cigarette Of Victory and the pursuit of Crime in all its romantic guises.
(c) Warren Ellis 2005 blah blah blah