The Art of Confusion, by Tony Sacre

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The other day whilst sat at my computer I heard that, Oh! OH! Sound. Which means I have mail. In this case the Oh! OH! Sound was even more ominous.

For there in my inbox menacing and bold it appeared. Urging, daring, NO threatening me to open it. My first feeling was curiosity quickly followed by caution, fear and then a panic attack followed by a very large gulp of wine…

The box read,

From- Gracie Passette…Subject “Writing at S-K”

My finger went for the mouse but stopped short. Fear, wine and confusion kicked my sorry ass. I took a sharp intake of breath and waved my hands in a prohibitive gesture over the mouse, no, no, please no…Tony don’t go there…yet…

It would be a while before I would open what could turn out to be an explosive device.

I opened my sent items to see what, if anything I might regret. Not much there to write home about really, just a few emails abusing somebody called JerseyJake? well no change there then. For some strange reason tonight I thought he was a bloke called B.J Horton. Or Jake Coltrane even…it made no sense.

Next was a lovely bit of Kat and mouse going on with some ‘Shelia’ with a frying pan fetish that I had somehow mistaken for Catwoman?

And then a rant by some Kamikaze Pilot hell bent on making a point with as usual not so much as a bye you leave, or kind word or even a ‘How are you Tony’. Who was that fickle self-centred chick that loved bad boys? she didn’t realise for one moment that any day now she was about to fall for the baddest dude in the whole damn town. She was SK style I suppose, in as much as she was fickle and discourteous. Why do bad boys hurt her, I couldn’t hazard a guess, sure beats the shit outta me.

Next I shot over to S-K to check my posts, always a scary thing in the cold, sober, light of a new day…No probs there, well… no more than usual… I did however

encounter a weird guy whilst there that insisted he had written a story with me. I had no idea who he was, he called me ‘Marlboro Man’. When he got no reaction he said “Well fuck YOU Redman, remember me I’m Coltrane” I did wonder why he was holding a white rabbit? And why should I remember somebody called Coltrane? I however had no fucking idea what this erudite persona was going on about and why he wanted to fuck me. My ‘Bottom’ line was I didn’t fancy him…so he could just go and fuck himself…

Next I went to TE and discovered I was known there as Blondie. My ‘free pass’ it seemed was no longer valid, but I used my effervescent charm and personality and gained entry. A person there called Jude asked if I was okay and would I like to go to an ‘Auction’ with her and then on to ‘The Scene’ afterwards. I felt bound to, if only to please her. She was cold like all Canadians but I cuddled her and we danced the ‘Submission’ together. I warmed her heart, just because I could…She gave me a fine red ass… as always…

Soon I began to feel like the ‘Mad Hatter’ at some crazy tea party! All that was needed was Alice. “Oh hello Slippy welcome to Gracie World, let me introduce you to “Advertising space” Sorry I mean my friend here Elvis he lives just across the street there in Gracielands!! He’s dead and won’t lie down. But his music will live on forever…I just love your blue gown.”

“Have you come for the party, tea my dear?”

“I am waiting for the king and Queen of Spades to arrive, so far they’re a no show, but I’m hopeful. We all need all the support we can get and so do SK init.”

“Oh! Angela how nice to see you again and Amin too… Music by Queen spun in my head ‘It’s the killer Queen…Dynamite and a lazar beam guaranteed to blow your mind.

By this time my emails, stories and posts had blurred into each other and my mind was well and truly blown, it spun around in delicious warm circles of friends and acquaintances some with two names, two ears, eyes, personas and even one with 2 …

Oh yes InDeeDee, I was becoming wildly disorientated. It was as if we all had double identities and spoke in double entendres. Entendres ah yes we serve those at the ‘Hideaway” before the main course, a double one is when some greedy fucker orders two!

Sorry I digress, maybe I was hallucinating or perhaps I just didn’t know where I was. But all the time I knew I was over here, not there…

Excuse me for a moment, I must get the cork out of this bottle, I shan’t be long…

Gurgle, Gurgle, Gulp Ah, that’s better now where was I, ah yes sitting right here looking out at YOUs!

Where do we go from here? Well how the fuck do I know, I’m only just getting started on this voyage into the unknown mind of the madman down under!

I look again at this thing in my inbox it seems to have become larger, tempting, exciting, luring me towards it, begging me now to devour it’s inner sensual secrets. I see it oozing, moist and pulling me with an almost seductive desire to open it.

My emotions shift gear and seem to fall now into categories of love, lust, sensuality, sexuality but still the sense of fear remains, a sexually delicious fear.

I pour another glass and concentrate on what I am trying to write here.

I look again at the email box, the damn thing seems to have grown red lips, cleavage, stockings and is blowing kisses. My curiosity is bursting at the seams, my fear factor up a level, my sense of doom growing along with uncontrollable sexual arousal… It was all becoming so surreafuckinglistic.

Fuck it, I can stand the suspense no longer, I take another sip and open my Nemesis email.

It reads that Gracie wants me to write something for her. I reach for my checkbook. But no this is for me alone, I smirk and read on…

Below is your assigned emotion/mood and all I ask is that you write a
column on it.
(Get her.) It may be a story from personal experience, it may be a work of erotic fiction, a poem ~ any sort of "sex and relationship
writing" which is not some 'how to' piece. I want it to make readers
feel it. I want them to weep, scream, pant, etc. ~ and it wouldn't hurt
if it made 'em horny. *Wink*
(She don’t want much then) I personally selected this just for you as I believe it either suits you to a T (nice touch the T Gracie darlin’ no doubt I have also won the Transylvanian lottery too) or because I'd like to see you stretch for this ~ I know you have it in you! In the (however unlikely) event that I am wrong (yikes!); How could that possibly happen she’s female… cheek! I’d like to see her stretch for this, she’d know she had it in her right enough (however unlikely) ;-0 lol!

If for some reason you cannot express or emote (I have one of those it changes the channels on my TV.) this, please contact me and I'll see about assigning you another set. (Surely a set is more than one word, but then what do I know) I thank you in advance for the courtesies (now there’s a thing). You individual emotion is: drum roll: After I get over drum roll not being an emotion and went to the next line it all started to make perfect nonsense.
Grumpy (thought this might be fun for you *wink*)

Then the ensuing badinage Ha Ha! Went something like this…

Hi Gracie,

Grumpy, pleeeese! Volatile, melodramatic, controversial even. I could handle, how can one get 'So Emotional' over Grumpy, well perhaps he really loved Snow White...and got 'So Emotional' when he found out she’d fucked the other 6 too...I could only do humour with that, can I have another word please Miss! Or shall I try to go with this...But somehow I don't think I could get 'So Emotional' over the seven dwarfs...

Tony

------------------------------------------------------

Hi Tony,

How's "Confusion" work for you?
I think it already has.

--------------------------------------------------------------

Hi Gracie

Confusion and Grumpy eh! Sounds like 2 guys I know that have written a story together. Ok "Confusion" works for me. Are you writing a piece for this? I assign you "Beguiling"...

Luv

Tony

JJ said use the word badinage, Tone that’ll impress her, I think bandage might of been in order. I don’t know why the fuck I listen to that bloke. Set me up again!! Badinage indeed. See how many words she uses when she wants something, see how few she uses when I want some thing’…well it could be worse… it could be two words…F… O…

I sigh with relief again, panic over, well at least for the moment.

Who is this woman, do I know her, have I done business with her, slept with her? Somewhere in the back of my mind I know I have. I also know she has broken my heart a hundred times. Something seems to tell me we have been around the world together, I have fought with and for her? There couldn’t possibly be two, could there? I must be getting tired and emotional (pissed) my mind is not my own any longer and my thoughts run amok.

What do I know of this Gracie woman? Well she sings in an all chick rock band.

No she don’t Tone, that’s the other one, I try to rationalise with myself… what other one, the Passette one, no fuckwit the Pasquale one. No she writes erotica and has fings called SK and TE, no, no, no your mixing em up. How can I if there is only one. But there is only one, Tone only the one. But they both treat me like a dog, no, no there’s only one Gracie, yeah you can say that again! Well she must treat me like two dogs then.

There’s a bang and pain as my head hits the desk. I am thrown into complete darkness and silence prevails. My scull cinema is now relentless…

A voice breaks the silence, a distant voice, a voice I recognise, a voice singing “Sisters are doing it for themselves” It draws nearer and louder and is to my right hand side. A single spotlight beam hits Pasquale, thick long luxuriant black hair, white silk shirt, black leather jeans high-heeled boots and bullwhip in hand. She lets rip a demonic laugh that chills my bones as she cracks her the whip “Tone Redman your soul is coming with ME on a tour of endless night!” I feel compelled to go, it is as if I have no will of my own.

Just then to my left another single spotlight beam tears a second hole in the darkness. There stands a mirror image but I just know this to be the Passette one.

“My Marlboro Man isn’t going anywhere with you Pasquale. This is my fucking joint and I take what I want. Get your sorry ass outta here now. This soul is coming with me to endless write!”

They both lash out and their whips wrap around my wrists pulling me in both directions at once. I feel more afraid than at any time in my life as “Hell hath no fury” races through my fevered mind. The whips tighten around my wrists and the strength of these women is pulling me apart. It’s taking all my strength to hold body and soul together. As I throw my head back screaming in agony. I notice a dark figure descending from high above me ensconced in her own eerie light “ Get away from him he’s mine, he’s coming with me, you ladies can just fuck off, release him now” Both my captors laugh hideously as if one. This shit is seriously starting to piss me off and I feel like I m being pulled apart emotionally, mentally and physically. Is this really purrgatory in which I find myself?

The dark figure effortlessly glides down to silently stand in front of me. Instantly I recognise ‘Katwoman’. She also is armed with a fierce looking bullwhip. Does she want a piece of my ass too? Is this to be a 3 way split am I about to be divided up and devoured by this unholy trinity? I start to tremble and shake, I no longer have the strength to resist the pulling on my wrists.

I scream in pain as Katwoman cracks her whip and pulls a scalpel from her belt. She holds it between my legs “So ladies lets sort this out now once and for all. Pasquale you want Redman, is this so? . And you want Marlboro Man, Passette? Take them, both of you. I’ll keep what’s left is that a deal?” She purrs. In one swift dramatic movement she rips the scalpel through me until it exits at the top of my head. I scream as terror and pain rip me apart and I feel and glimpse the pure evil in the eyes of my captors… as my personality splits, Marlboro Man to the left, Tone Redman to the right, I scream out again in my agonistic delirium. As these personas are torn from me Pasquale and Passette hiss and scowl fearfully and disappear back into the blackness with their trophies.

Gently I return from my delirium and I realise the real me is still here and very much alive. I stand naked, motionless, helpless and breathless before my heroine ‘The Katwoman’. Her presence and aura exude peace, love and understanding. I stand dumbfounded and words fail me “So Mr Sacre this is the real you is it, are you all there? still in one piece I see” She purrs looking me up and down as if she were about to make a purchase, lightly scratching her long fingernails over my sweating, bloodied torso.

Next she removes her cowl and mask and starts to unzip her super hero garb. She turns and steps from the suit. I notice the long white wings developing on her back as she returns to face me. She is bathed in a beautiful white light. Her body is an indescribable heavenly form. She looks into my eyes and I begin to melt as all my deep-rooted fears dissipate, I feel light and safe but very naked and weak in the presence of such beauty…

“Tony take my hands, let me take you away from this endless darkness back to the light and reality you deserve. As I hold her fingers I feel what I can only describe as delicious electricity between us. It creates a feeling of fantastic well being, a love that can only lift me up where I belong. She starts to slowly rise up, my arms follow her but soon I realise my feet are very firmly on the ground. As she rises my arms reach full hight and our grip falters and I lose her. I watch as she floats higher and higher until she just becomes a pin dot and then the light at the end of my black tunnel is gone…again I feel very afraid, naked, lonely and cold…

Boom! Suddenly there are blinding flashes of light and deafening explosions, a roaring sound of Hammond organ, guitars and horns, I am on a stage sax in hand ripping into ‘Gimme some lovin’ I look to my side and Jake Coltrane grins and utters the words “Hi Tone you finally made it then, they get us all in the end you know”

“Who does,” I ask.

“The Hellcats! You should of held Kat tighter, he laughs like a circus clown…”

Before I have time to think I am plunged back into the silent blackness and all is still. That feeling of ultimate terror returns and I hear again the joint demonic laughter of Passette and Pasquale.

Suddenly Boom! Again the blinding lights, a rushing and screaming fill my ears.

I find myself in St Martins Lane in London’s west end. Screaming Tess’s name at the top of my voice I feel fear and hopelessness in the pit of my stomach. My clothes are splattered in blood I am punching, screaming kicking at the door of an overturned smashed Jaguar car that is about to burst into flames. The door becomes ripped off and I crawl inside still calling out Tess’s name I climb into the car, the blood soaked face of a girl looks straight into my eyes she says ‘Danny I knew you would come back to me, it’s been over 18 months since we met. I try to pull her out but ‘Angela’ is stuck, stuck in the past, she had met Danny a long time ago when ‘Teresa danced with the Devil’… In the back of my mind I hear ‘Katwoman’s’ voice “So Tony we have one more persona to deal with it would seem one more layer of the onion man as once you were described by ‘Betty the wonder horse’ Come back into my light, Angela will be safe and so will you. Believe it and you will see it…

I wake up and raise my head from the desk the sun is coming up and my head hurts, tears run down my face and my mind is sobbing tears of blood, I look at my computer screen …

From- Gracie Passette…Subject “Writing at S-K… Unopened…

From- JerseyJake… Subject “Jerseyjake has sent you a video”… Unopened…

From Kat… Subject… “ Hello Angel how ya doin’”… Unopened…

From Angela… Subject… Danny, yes I remember him well… Unopened…

I realise now that I have been ‘asleep at the wheel’ and now begin to feel very ‘grumpy’. I had felt ‘so emotional’ to the point of exhaustive passion. Was it a dream, an illusion or maybe just maybe it was only ‘confusion’…

© Tony Sacre

 

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