The Terrible Genie ~ LEK TARIK

In cartoon and fantasy land Genies are alright. They play jokes. Ride flying carpets. Fool around, tell riddles and have fun. No big deal. Saturday morning stuff. Rub the lantern and  -  ' F O O M !!! ' Instant kooky blue friend.  Well . . . ah  -  not really.
In this world, in the advent, that you were to run across a Genie, well - that's it - I'd say run. But that's no good. Your screwed. And your 'Super special' screwed - if you were to come across this creature.
The 'Terrible Genie'  LEK TARIK.

Only a few rare individuals have managed to survive a meeting with it. It is said that Lek Tarik was once a man. A noble and generous man. Who in an attempt to save the life of a child trapped in a burning hall of timbres - was killed. It was no accident. There was no child. There was nothing but the fire. And the trap he had fallen into. He was mislead and killed for his riches by one of his lovers and a band of her dark cohorts.  In his last furious cries he cursed them - 'All of them -' . . . . all humanity, all their small greedy hearts untill the end of time. He swore vengeance. And the flames carried him away. And years moved past without mind and without notice.

Then he returned.

Set loose from the 6th 'fold' he materialized here on the 'matter plane' to exact his revenge. And on the unwise and covetous he began. His payments are screams. And red coins falling, one splat at a time. On first appearing and greeting humans, he offers them a wish -

" What one thing could you want . . . what desires have . . . y o u ? "

And they always get it wrong.

The only way to survive an encounter with Lek Tarik, is to not ask for material possessions. To not request money or gold. To not think of your own desires,  but to ask for your life. That is the only thing that matters.
You have to be clear and precise about it. If you say " Please, I want to survive this encounter . . " You will. Minus a foot, or most of an arm. Practically skinned. Blinded. And scared forever. But . . . you'll live. Lek loves to give people what they want.
No. You have to be very, very clear with it. You have to tell it exactly what you want.
" I want you to leave me alone. You will not hurt me. You will not kill me. You will leave me / we / us  -  ALONE.  BE  GONE !!!"
Thats it. The only route.
So put away the pepper spray and brass knuckles and relax. As long as your honest and humble you have nothing to worry about . . . . .  right ??? 

The Prey

Well . . . it was supposed to be just another routine flight for Nit, Service Cadet - class 3 shuttle pilot. Between the Verla 4 - Solar Reaping Station and Termosse. Central processing grounds and sub-orbital loading platforms of Leckctll. A busy space port brimming with vessels and trade.
And it was, until our friend, Nit decided it might be advantageous to stop off on the small heavily forested sixth sub moon of Neelom -Vell. An uninhabited cluster of, well ... barely planet classed planets, just outside the Main system. You see - on the sub-moons that spin round Neelom -Vell, there grows an elusive and very valuable fungus. Chor. Now, Chor itself is of no worth other than in regards to the pollen jelly that accumulates on the underside of the outer growth wings it extends at seeding time.
Well that's fine. But when you consider the fungus only spores once every 35 years, and it's worth 1000 times more per niccrom weight measure than Trill dust - the 'high' lasts 12 - 17 days, it enhances the cognitive functions of the user and increases performance on all levels of activity. Leaves a subtle resonance of well being. No hangover. No addiction. Only byproduct is a 'glowy' complexion and stronger nails. And a passive increase in Psychic ability. It's virtually undetectable when scanned for. Either in raw form or suspended in neural system fluids of the user - i.e.  - substance screens do not work on it !!!  Well, you can start to get an idea of it's attraction.
So . . . intrepid, brave, fortune seeking, unwise Nit, takes the shuttle down to have a look. You see a fellow pilot had passed on info to him, two rotations ago at Sental, a hot night club in one of the recreation and living zones in the platform. That Chor was possibly blooming - " Out there on one of those tangled balls of shlagg they keep trying to call planets - Ah ha ha ha ha !!!" Well Nit was listening. He heard. He planned. He silently moved all the neccessary pieces together.
And thats what brought him to this little sub-moon of Neelom -Vell.  That universal motivator - greed. He thought he could cash - in. Get the pay off. Put out almost no effort, other than sneaking around with a company shuttle - for maximum payoff. Right on !!!
Well actually - wrong on. Nit in his haste and avarice - didn't stop to monitor frequency bands of any kind before he dove into the moons atmosphere. Had he, he might have picked up stacked qualon pulses, that are not hard to pick up, coming up from the deep forests below. If he had heard them, then he would have known that the only things that transmit on that clunky and prehistoric wave length are Gimpp Krutts. And their horribly bad news. Because Gimpp Krutts are the 'muscle' for Tagwarns. Filthy. Ruthless, space mercenaries and frontier opportunists. Essentially pirates by any other name.
And so after a short time Nit comes across what could be a stand of Chor. He moves in closer, his nostrils contract. "Whew - that rotting smell. Thats it. Thats Chor !!!"

And then - it all went to hell.

Had he been paying attention, he would have noticed the squealer - probes, hovering off in the green black periphery. Dim blue electric eyes watching him. But he didn't.

And then the trees parted . . .  e x p l o d e d  - and he was dealing with a Gimpp Krutt - first order.  Lucky ( ? ) for Nit he had a service blaster, but that would be of little service to him. Gimpps are incredably strong and well put together. His only hope was to try to get to cover, but considering the Gimpp droid was tearing apart the forest trying to stop anyone from taking any jelly on behalf of the Tagwarns - things were not looking so good.

"Maybe I should have stayed on course  . . . .  oh, stupid, stupid, stupid . . . "

His lamentations were drowned out by the shrieking and grinding of the machine.

Tattoo Design

O.K.  ~

                   Here's a Tattoo design I did up for my old friend  -  J.T. Templeton the 3rd. He was blowing through town recently when I bumped into him.  Seems he's around for a bit in between jobs.  Said he was coming back from Alaska - "Up there things is different . . . doin some caged bear fightin. . . . nothin but a knife and your balls to pull you through !!!" I was out blow gun hunting some spring hares. He was meditating, nude, on a fallen log in the back of the Tiny Marsh when I came across him. Needless to say - in two seconds I was on my back in four inches of slime with a Bowie knife pressed across my juggler - then he recognized me - " Hey man. Whats up ?" Fucking hit men are so cool !!!
                       Well I got up and we caught up - and after racing a couple of old mustangs out to Cedar point and back, ( that ending in a ball of flame and a young french girls heart broken (( he just looks at women and they go  C R A Z Y !!! )) we sat down and that's where the idea of the tat came up. "I had a job I wuz on fur a group of 'investors' " He said. " - the work took me to the Philippines. Anyway, after a whole bunch of shit and tangle I ended up in a drain pipe filled with scorpions - and I had to chew my way out !!!" I just looked at him. "So - I thought I'd get this little guy to remind me" He lit his cigarette by shooting the end of it with a . 32 caliber Derringer he whipped from his boot - " I wanted it to remind me that life is precious, you know - to take in the beauty." He exhaled. " You know what I mean ?" I just smiled and nodded and went and grabbed my sketch book.
                        We bounced some ideas back and forth over a couple of sit downs - in public spaces, and some secret meetings elsewhere. We came up with this. The Scorpion in perspective over Mars. He likes Mars - birth planet - Zodiac. Planet of war - symbolic / mythological. Red - cool color. So I did up the semi-final designs, we proofed them -  and then went ahead with coloring.
                        In conclusion : It was very nice to see him again, and he was very happy and excited when I presented the finished design to him. He was so happy in fact he told me he even disarmed the plasma mines he had hid in the bush beside my house - WHAT ??? "Nothing personal you know, just hav'ta cover all the bases." God damned contract mercenary Intel - agents . . . . you just never know !!!  

The Gladiator

Prangkt  knew it was wrong thinking to go venturing into Sakall 3 looking for employment.  It was one of the biggest shit holes in the five lateral sectors - but he did it anyway.  Driven by those universal motivators sustenance and shelter - he went. Stepping cautiously into the deep shadows of the entrance tunnel . . . how many days ago now . . .  he couldn't remember. He moved forward  -  and then it all went black.
Judging by the throbbing and pulsing at the back of his head he could tell he was drugged. Must have been that froth vine cream he was handed by those Skouds. And to think he always held Skouds in high regard before. Little blue jerks. And then a flashing of lights and the sensation of heat and pressure. Only to wake to find himself with handling loops fully installed into his body. Aggression stimulator chips sunk deep into the soft tissues of his sub - brain. And threats,  threats,  threats. Oh, and the Circullo Beetle Sap they are now trying to get him addicted to.  Great - just flipping great !
"Ahhhh . . . I really did it this time . . ." Prangkt thought as he was being dragged to his first match.  But things have a funny way of balancing themselves out.  And if the Repsectian guard was paying more attention to his captive slave, than indulging his meandering thoughts in the copulation trenches he looked forward to visiting at the end of his shift - he would have noticed a sly long grin starting on the face of his Veelunian captive - a long hard cold sharp edged smile. For little known to the guard or his superiors, for he arrived without papers on that needful eve - they had just grabbed and have been tormenting and mishandling  PRANGKT - the terror of the inversion wars -  butcher of the embryo caverns - impaler of every last Terdt, half dead or still running at the end of the Claussian Battles.  Sole mutilator of the poisoned convents and their repulsive occupants on Station 343 near the edge of the Induus Belt. Assassin of Bwunder the Cruel.  Dispatcher of thousands of souls. Reaper. Lover. Tormentor. Gladiator . . . . P R A N G K T !!!  Boy are they in  T R O U B L E  now !!!

E A S T E R madness -

ALRIGHT  ~   It's spring and that means it's time for more ridiculous cult ritual celebrations by our mono-theist friends and nieghbours. So when a star isn't guiding shepherds to sheds to watch waifs being born into filth along side chattel - it's what - a fat man riding flying caribou who leaves gifts for you by jumping down your chimney ? Wow - who handed out the L.S.D. at breakfast this morning ???
O.K. - so the spring festival is the topper for me  - a tortured man, nailed to lumber, thrown into a cave, who only .....  RISES FROM THE DEAD  three days later !!!  What ???  Holy walking zombies Batman !!!  Oh yeah, and lets not forget the canabalistic aspects of this cultist behaviour - eating the flesh and drinking the blood of the slain. Awesome !!! Thank [ something ] these people are 'civilized'  Who knows what they could get up to if they weren't.  Whew !!!
       So - I thought I'd post this in lieu of the approaching 'holiday' - cause, like Scoob - people aren't going to get it. The chances of being accused of some 'awful' perspective ( philosophically / ideologically ) run high !!!  And the irony is .... the finger pointing and suspicion will come from the cultists - because I made a red man with bat wings instead of - what .... a skinny hippie long hair who's supposed to save the world by running around telling people to love each other. Good work J.C. - look around - it's really catching on.  And considering most people I talk to about this stuff ( religion ) only fiend adherence to those ridiculous systems out of coercion and threat - "You'll burn FOREVER if you don't tow the party line !!!" It seems desperate and sad. And also a hudge drive for capaital and financial gain.  Fascists. Desperate...... scared...... heads in the sand little fascists.

Oh well....... more fairy tales in the land of the strange. Each to their own.

Peace & Love - and free chocolate  ~  Uncle  -  J i m