Francis of the Filth

by George Miller

  Slightly disappointed with this response, Frank picked the rat up again by the tail and placed it gently on Pink Guy’s shoulder. At first this produced no greater reaction than that of Salamander Man but after a minute or so of aimlessly wandering about the pink man’s torso, and possibly becoming a little peckish for breakfast, it crawled up his side, stood on his neck and took a firm bite of his ear lobe. Pink Guy woke with a mild cry and assumed that Alpha Centurion was becoming amorous with him again. When he opened his eyes and saw the hideous rat standing over him, he screamed and instinctively brushed the rat away hard with the back of his hand. The rat sailed through the air and landed square on the face of Alpha Centurion who was just waking up from the sound of Pink Guy’s scream. The little guy, still upside down, woke fully to see this filthy creature on his face, and let out a blood curdling scream with the pitch and volume of a trumpeting elephant.

  The rat fell to the floor but before it could move, Alpha Centurion grabbed a bamboo kendo stick from the corner of the cupboard and began to beat the poor creature to a pulp. Despite the protests of the others in the room and Safari Man, who ran in to see why a woman was screaming, Centurion continued to pound the little rodent with a frenzy that produced unlearned languages from him. By the time he was restrained, the rat was nothing more than a pile of broken bones and seeping fluids on the rug.

  Silence fell upon the room. “What have you done?” Frank asked shocked. There was more silence as Alpha Centurion’s face fell and then his shoulders slumped and he dropped the stick on the floor. “You didn’t have to kill it!” Frank yelled at him. He was distraught that the little runt would do such a thing. “What got into you, you little faggot?”

  “What got into me?” Centurion returned. “Are you serious, Frank? What got into me? What got into you, Frank, you sick schmuck.” He was livid now. “How could you do that? How could you put a rat on the face of someone who was sleeping? What’s wrong with you, Frank? You’ve really gone too far this time. I’ve had it with you. Fuck you, Frank. Fuck you,” he said pointing to Frank. “And fuck you, you and especially you,” he said respectively to Pink Guy, Salamander Man and Safari Man.

  “What did I do?” the Japanese man asked.

  Alpha Centurion kept at Frank. “I’m sick of you treating me like this, Frank.”

  “What did I do?” Safari Man asked the others.

  “I’m sorry for the rat, Frank, but you asked for it. You brought this on. This is on you.”

  There was another moment of silence before Frank scooped up the remains of the rodent in his bare hands. The others watched him do this. Then without giving it another thought, Frank poured his chromosomes into the rat. Just as he had done with the fish in the rice fields realm, he now did with the rat, and just as the withered fish had been fully restored, so too the rat was fully healed. It stretched its neck like it had just woken up from a long sleep, then full of energy, it jumped from Frank’s hands and scampered across the floor. Pink Guy, Salamander Man, Safari Man and Alpha Centurion looked on in absolute amazement. The gravity of this moment was not lost on any of them. They looked at Frank with astonishment and with their eyes asked, “Who are you?”

  The rat continued to scurry across the floor and gave a nasty bite to Alpha Centurion’s big toe. “Ow! You little shit!” he said grabbing the kendo stick again. “I’m going to really finish you this time.” But before he could get a swing in he was held back by his pink and green friends, who were handicapped in the matter only by their raucous laughter. The rat ran to safety under Frank’s bed.

  Frank was nonchalant about restoring the creature, despite its miraculous nature. To him, it was a natural happening; there was nothing supernatural to it. It was a normal extension of his being. What did surprise him though was where the episode led him. Without giving it a second thought, his placed his hands on Pink Guy and Salamander Man, spoke coordinates briefly to the air and instantly the three of them were standing in the shallows on the edge of a marsh.

  Frank’s two friends looked about them. They were in shock at the sudden transportation. This land had a familiar feel yet was somehow unknown to them. It took a while for its appearance to register. Salamander Man recognized it first but was taken aback by its depletion. It was as though many epochs had passed and time had worn the whole structure of the place. They stood ankle deep in water stained with red algae. Above them, the sky was singular in color, a dirty brown arching over them like a dome. Stretching out before them were grasslands, hagged and thirsty. These fed into foothills which led to a great mountain rising to a height which almost seemed to touch the sky. It was the mountain, high and once mighty towering over them which brought recollection to Pink Guy.

  If they had needed any further confirmation of their location, it came with a figure rapidly approaching them from their left. Snapping and snarling rabidly, it charged toward them, a flurry of yellow and white. Pink Guy leapt like a cat before a cucumber and Salamander Man braced for battle. None came. Frank raised his hand to the creature and spoke one word to it: “Desist!” The creature slumped and stopped about twenty paces before them. They all eyed each other. The yellow and white one, despite its menacing approach, now stood small and frail in front of them. “Lemon Man?” asked Salamander Man. Lemon man nodded mournfully. He looked old and tired. He and Salamander Man approached each other and, despite past animosities, embraced as old warriors beholding the deepest respect for each other. Pink Guy, memories flooding back, kept his distance.

  “Lemon Man,” Frank said addressing him in stately tones. “We are going up the mountain. Would you like to join us?” The bulbous yellow-headed creature shook his head and withdrew as if scared. “It’s okay, my friend,” Frank said. “We’re all family now.”

  “I’m a lemon,” Lemon Man said pointing toward at the foothills of the mountain and began to tremble with fear. “I’m a lemon,” he said. His voice quivered. “I’m a lemon.” Pink Guy and Salamander Man surveyed the landscape and began to share Lemon Man’s fear.

  “Why are we going up the mountain, Frank?” Pink Guy was perfectly lucid in this realm. “Don’t you remember what happened last time we went up this mountain?”

  Frank didn’t answer his question. “We’re going up the mountain,” he asserted. Lemon Man shook his head and withdrew. “You don’t have to come,” Frank assured him. Pink Guy and Salamander Man withdrew, too, and stood beside Lemon Man. “You two, however,” Frank said to them, “must come with me.”

  Leaving their lemon friend behind, they quickly marched up from the shoreline, over the sparse plains and into the foothills. The high ground was covered in the long brown grasses of a cursed environment and the dry vegetation rustled loudly in the breezes. They hadn’t gone far when they noticed the grasses moving all about them in a manner that was independent of the wind. Something was scuttling about them and Pink Guy and Salamander Man bunched up close behind Frank as though spooning him on the move.

  As Frank stepped forward, out from between two thick tufts of weed came a huge and hideous scorpion-like creature. It flailed its pincers about and lunged backwards and forwards at Frank and his friends. Other creatures of this ilk, some bigger, some smaller came out of the grasses toward them from all directions. All of them moved with a hideous, sinister intent and threatened with clicks and rattle-like sounds. Pink Guy and Salamander Man, frozen with fear, looked to Frank for salvation. He turned his head slowly back toward them and in a calm and careful whisper said, “Run”.

  With that they bolted as one with frantic yelling, and dashed between the two critters in front of them. Beyond those two they continued in haste as though their very lives counted on it (which it may well have) running in between many of the other vile creatures as they approached and lunged and stabbed at Frank and his friends. More than once they were nipped and sliced but they ran like men possessed until they reached the rocky clearing at the foot of the mountain.

  As the scorpions receded back into the grasses, the
three friends fell exhausted and assessed their injuries. There was blood and there was bruising but with a little dabbing and rubbing and self-consolation, they recovered and were ready to proceed. “Why couldn’t you just tell the scorpions to desist, like you did with Lemon Man?” asked Pink Guy. His thoughts went back to his first encounter with Frank in the frozen wasteland. There, he was the master educating Frank about ‘all matters’ of the omniverses. Now, quite clearly, he was the student. “Brute beasts!” said Frank. “Sometimes they just don’t listen! You’ve just got to run.” He laughed as he said this but the other two didn’t think it was nearly as funny. “Come on,” he said, gesturing toward the top of the mountain. “No time to lose.” Pink Guy and Salamander Man still had no idea why Frank was going back up this mountain nor why he felt they should go with him. They suspected with much trepidation that this might have been leading to a showdown with Chin Chin but even then, why here? Why now? They followed closely behind Frank as they made their way up the mountain.

  It grew cold as they ascended. The winds whipped up and the brown sky, though clear of cloud, darkened. Salamander Man began to shiver as he walked. Though feeling the cold, Frank began to hum a little tune. It wasn’t that he was in a particularly good mood, it’s just that he was free of any fear or trouble. He marched on with a purpose in his stride that was telling to the others, and they took heart in this.

  The walk to the top of the mountain was longer than any of them had remembered and when they arrived at the summit they turned, tired and weary, and looked at the scenery below all about them. Though dull in color and lacking any semblance of life, the panoramic view revived them and they savored a sense of accomplishment for having reached the pinnacle. Yet it remained bitterly cold and windy and the two friends turned to Frank and asked him to explain why they had come.

  He didn’t answer immediately but rather, began to wander about the summit area as though looking for something. He was methodical in this. He began from the very point of the mountain and then slowly descended in concentric circles, covering every square inch of the land. Having descended about twenty-five meters he suddenly stopped and declared with a sense of delight, “There you are!” He bent over and picked up an object that was at first wholly unidentifiable to his pink and green friends. It wasn’t until Frank carried the piece over to them that they realized with sad horror what it was. There, lying dry and decrepit in his hands, was the decomposed torso of Negi Generation 4. “It’s still here!” Frank said with surprise. “Now, help me find his limbs.”

  The two friends joined him in their grim search for Negi Generation 4’s remains. It didn’t take long, though there was little left of his left leg and only a few bone fragments of his right arm. Pink Guy was touched that Frank would remember Negi Generation 4 so fondly and want to give him a proper burial. It was rare to see such a tender side to Frank and it strengthened the loyalty that the two friends already had for him. “Where shall we dig the grave, Frank? Here on the mountain or down on the foothills?”

  “Nyess.” Salamander man shared in the question.

  “We’re taking him.”

  “You want to bury him in New York?” Pink Guy asked. “Okinawa?” He thought about that some more. “Negiland!”

  “We’re not burying him.”

  There was an odd countenance to both Frank and his words which silenced the two friends. They stepped back and waited for Frank to give further instructions.

  Frank dropped to his knees and arranged Negi Generation 4’s remains in front of him. He then lay upon the Negi, forehead to forehead, chest to chest, hip to hip, foot to foot. He breathed in deeply once and then poured his chromosomes into the leek. This was not a singular transaction. It was a series of fillings and each one brought visible change to the color, substance and spirit of Negi Generation 4. Pink Guy and Salamander Man stood entranced by the encounter. On and on Frank poured his chromosomes, millions upon millions of them and as he did the friends could observe before their very eyes the bones reconnecting, the sinew reforming, the flesh restoring and the body reviving. Even when Negi’s eyes opened and a little smirk emerged on his lips, Frank continued to lie upon him and pour into him his chromosomes. He seemed to know innately when the work was complete.

  After a time, Frank rolled off Negi Generation 4 and lay upon the cold earth seemingly emptied of life. Pink Guy and Salamander Man approached him cautiously and with a sense of great concern. Yet before they could draw near, Negi Generation 4 hopped to his feet and said, “The likely for through and shazam!” He looked so happy. He gazed at the two friends with an enormous grin and, bouncing for joy on the balls of his feet, said, “Agates to the fronds!” He then doubled up in laughter.

  As though lifted by the jolly sounds, Frank sat up. He seemed weak but well. He stood and walked over to the Negi. “Nice to see you old friend. Didn’t think we could leave you in such disarray.”

  “Over for stark and by a holy nearly.” Negi bowed before Frank.

  “Yeah. Nice to have you back.”

  With the passing moments, Frank’s vitality returned to him.

  “Nyeess.”

  “Never felt better, Salamander Man. Never felt better.”

  “Nyess.”

  “No, I’m not just being polite. I really feel fantastic. I feel better than I’ve ever felt before.” Frank stretched and turned about as he said this.

  “You must have used a lot of chromosomes, Frank,” Pink Guy said, concerned. “Are we okay to get back?”

  Frank looked at him with a smile that was gentle yet slightly creepy. “Every chromosome I gave to our little leeky friend here has already returned to me many times over. You have no idea how pulsing with life I am right now.” Pink Guy and Salamander Man were equally pleased and fearful to hear this. While Frank had grown curious as to his condition, his two friends now grew afraid. They’d never seen such turns of life or such confidence in Frank and while they were glad to be on the same team, a hint of fear entered their minds: what if they weren’t on the same team?

  These fears were subdued by the sheer joviality of the balderdash who began to run around from the mere thrill of being alive. Occasionally he would leap as he ran and shout “Befall!” and “Polar!” and other expressions of elation. The other three all felt better for just watching him. Frank gathered them all to him and they took one last look over the landscape before he began to call his coordinates to the wind. He held his friends tightly. His voice, though the same, sounded different now. It had the familiar gravelly timbre they knew and loved, but it now had a calmness that had always been absent from his delivery. His intoning now carried an anointing. It had the resonance of royalty.

  Before Frank had completed his cantillation though, a lightning bolt came out of nowhere and hit the rocky ground beside them with an almighty crack. The four of them reeled back in fright. In an instant, a frenzied wind began to blow, thunder rumbled and hail began to pelt down. Clouds started to form and dissipate and form again, swirling and tumbling as though in rebellion, and all the while the air about them (not the sky above) began to darken and grow heavy. A deep rumbling sound then began to rise up from the ground beneath them. It seemed to come from the heart of the mountain itself. It led to a tremble which quickly grew to a most violent earthquake, rumbling and rolling and pounding and throwing the four of them about like dolls.

  Though it finally settled, the tumultuous clouds only grew thicker. The thunder seemed to be roaring at them. Lightning continued to strike the ground all about them like electric whips herding cattle. The four of them huddled together and waited for the inevitable. The atmosphere then parted and gliding through on a billow of cloud descended Chin Chin, preceded by his two chained minions. They were rabid, a ball of snarl and gargoylian fury, and had to be held back by the dark lord who carried an air of cool but barely restrained hatred. He stepped off onto the rocky terrain, flinching and twitching with aggravation, and crawled toward them.

  Frank immediatel
y stood and faced his nemesis. “O Chin Chin ga daisuki dayo.” The evil words slid out from the dark lord. Frank never flinched. “O Chin Chin…” the words rattled with enmity, “…dai suki.” There was so much hatred in his utterance. Frank stood his ground and this only served to antagonize Chin Chin. Trembling and afraid, Negi Generation 4 came and stood beside Frank, holding on to the tail of his familiar blue shirt. Chin Chin looked at the negi, confused. He peered at him with eyes that shuddered. He looked at Frank, then back at Negi then back at Frank again. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

  “O Chin Chin!” he hissed. [“I destroyed you.”] His neck convulsed hard several times. He stood there genuinely perplexed and this feeling of angst soon morphed into trepidation. He wasn’t able to approach any closer to Frank and his two minions, sensing injury, moved around behind their master. Frank was steadfast but unwilling to engage; Chin Chin was too shaken to advance yet too proud to retreat. They stood there for a prolonged period: Frank, legs defiantly astride with fists on hips and his friends huddled behind him; Chin Chin a twisted ball of creepy blackness hovering on the spot with his demons behind him. The only thing that altered during that standoff was the atmospheric conditions. The thunder and lightning eased, the hail ceased and the wind calmed. These changes worked in Frank’s favor. They seemed to diminish Chin Chin’s control of the encounter and this emboldened Frank. Yet Chin Chin could never admit to such or relinquish any ground.

  Frank fully understood the cosmic implications of this confrontation. He searched himself for the right words to speak to send this peace lord on his way. He knew this was his time. It was a defining moment not only for him but for all dimensions and tiered creatures everywhere. His words needed to be powerful, authoritative and magnanimous. He knew that what he uttered at this time would reverberate through the annals of history and ripple through the fabric of the omniverses. He stepped forward as though planting a flag on new terrain, pointed a wily finger at the dark lord and said, “Piss off”.