Book of Wine & Seizures by WC Smith Book 6 The Industrious Godowner Ch 6- Man Against God

The Journal of Provincial Thought

luminance

’Tis Man Against God, Out on the Wall

nd they went them out unto a spitting wall, where challenges are joind and champfiens & challenjors appear & fade like as wild seasons: Here, yet here,

fading, gone, something fresh, mixt appearance, here. And they approach-ed unto the far perfessionel mark, disdaining the near mark scratcht by pretenders and limp-lipfs. And the outdoor weatherd woman which was there presiding did for an instant lift the patch offen her good eye, that she might assess them.

And she spake unto them, and unto no one p’tic’lar, with a cawing voice saying, I know neither how they may do at other walls. But here, I lay to the rules right hard, ye boys. The bones of kings & genies lie buried all about, who tried to scoot the rules. Now. The spittacle gats three trials. And of’t all, that spittle which placeth highest upon the wall, or that which falleth nearest if an none attain, will for its issuer triumph. And the loser may then choose death—which is an honorabol thing, I suppose—or, in the way of those less honor-craze’d, a stone mouthbashing by this mallet of mine. Now. He which chooseth this far profeshinol marque, disdaining the near, consider also this: Back here, if an thou make to spit, and thy languid drool attain not the fairway out there, but fall in stead here upon the launching lane, then shalt thou receive a placement upon the teeth from this mallet; for this is that ground whereupon the Lord spake unto Goobar.

And Beuel said, Did I? And he suffer-ed a pang; for only yesterday were Goobar killd when that Beuel were knocking down some trees.

And now Siriul Merta, pufft bold of breast, did stride forth and strike a stance upon the laydown line. And he dray in some air, and purs-ed & spat. And his spittle take’d off as with wings upon the wind, and gleaming as it streak-ed, was hauld by the breeze onto sir madame wall, half-high.

And Beuel was angerd, and said, I heard no one to say begin. Heardst thou any one to say begin ere thou didst spitte, mortol-mouth?

But the spitbiddy intercednd and said unto him, There were no stricture concerning any saying of begin. Wilt thou now stepf up & shoot, or shall I tag thee with a loss?

Yet continu-ed Beuel in his ire, calling the wind to account for bias. Wind (saith he), cheatest thou for this startup earthling, fetching him a boost? I nurs-ed a throb to still thee ere we commenst. And so, in line with the throb, after I too have spatt, and too have ridden a boost off thee, then lay thou right still, till I make done with Merta.

And Beuel put him self ready, and spat with a great spraying, causing coulours before them in the air; and the hand of the spittrix did tighten there upon her mallet. And she stoopft to scrutinize about the launchbox for gleamy trace of gross nonattainage. But flew the nucleum of Beuel’s spittle high up like as the sparrow in the sky. And he turn-ed about before Merta, to exult over him, and taunt, and perform steps & fingersnapping.

But lo! the bolus of Beuel’s spittol were seizd by the winding wind and hurld again back; and it smote there in the hair of the lord Beuel, beside his redundant ear, and matted. And there was lightning, and a mountain went into the sea, and elephonts ruptured; for a god was spittlesmit. And Siriul Merta posted a perfunctry trembling, tho true fear were long ago grinded outen him by life.

Then cried Beuel unto the wind, Did I not say, After I have spat, be still? And didst thou suppose this to mean, Fling back my spittle upon the siden mine head? Must thou to be told every certin thing? Yea, malapert wind, thou hast today purchast a dismol destiny. Thou shalt be traded for more accomodatious wind, and shalt pass thy days pushing a glacier called Fate through the ice tunnels of Ocryo, that world I know. And woe be unto any sportister who spelunketh in thy path, as he tradeth his shape for stretcht & flat neath the tonnage. (And Beuel shaken his head at the needless tragedies that mortel sporties heedless reap, as when out snaking the acres in Ocryotic caves.)

And they bespat them again. And behold, the sent spittel of Siriul Merta did place nigh unto the top of the makewall, exceeding any measure ever spat at this asspitreum, and wilting back the old womon in astonishmant, and giving Merta to make on so: !I stickt it! O, hoss, I hangd that hurligob high!

And Beuel curs-ed the wall, saying, Wall, thou didst lean o’er in cheatery for Merta. And so, after winning this missomatch will I deal with thee, holing thee egregius, and assaulting thy foundatien, and setting thee to retain about the seepage pits of the sick city of Pewkiss Fabulus, which I made sick. And Beuel spat his second spittance upon the earth at his feet in contempt of this wall, which he did dearly hate.

And Beuel turnd his head and went to speak, saying, There are some unborn b . . . TASH! —a stone mouthbashing cometh upon his teeth in this moment, from the mallet of the lineswatcher, pickling the rage of his face, and almo laying him out horozontinel. For he hath all ready been tolt that no spits shall be spitted upon this ground here, yet he hath enjoyd to scoot the rules.

And Beuel caus-ed a pteradactol to pursue the spitbiddie, that she fled her post. And a great war of beak & mallet was seen by Merta and Beuel upon yan hill. And when by & by the

dactyl lay dead, the woman devised a wagon having some levers, and took up the carcass, and went away with it to be famous.

And Beuel said unto Siriul Merta, Lay on, challenger. I can say us the rules as need be. And they spat again, again spat they, that the test this day be made full aspitrified. And Beuel did cause the lips of Siriul Merta to stretch thin as kingspatience as he spat, that his belov-ed spitessense dribb’d out onto his bearde. But Beuel feign-ed sympathies, saying he knew not any cause, and hateth a tragedie so much as any next fellow.

O, friend! saith Beuel. And he ran creases of frankness upon his brow, and said, See; we our selfs do feel that we feel, and need no warpt Presider nor her odious mallots to apprise us of our gaffes at the line. Bad is bad enogh, whene’er a spittance gae mufft. Fair I chase-ed her gone. Now may we together rue thy botcht shot, widouts her innerferense.

Then hove & spat Beuel the god a third time outen his maw, with heavy pageantry. And the third spittle of Beuel approacht straightway unto the top of the wall in a powerous threat of alltakery. But zound! Fell not that blodge there high, but hemmd an bit, & haw-ed, then caught the crest of a nether breeze and return-ed direct to smite the middle eye of Beuel.

And there was demonstrike upon the earth, and black smoke, and elephantrupture, and the dead were vomited up from the sea; for that Siriul Merta were the vanquisher of Beuel, now, with the prevailing second exemplary spitting of Merta. And the jaws of Beuel hong slack upon their hinge, and his eyes gaze-ed vake. And Siriul Merta did make mimes & motiens of mouthobashing, and stalkt as doth the cock aroundabout before Beuel; and like unto the cock, he crew.

a pteradactol to pursue the spitbiddie- Schafer, c 2007