“Oui, oui! These are mixed with this island’s primary product of manufacture, Sku Le’Bizarre’s San Moniquan Spiced Rumme!”
“’ey! If dis is from Sku Le’Bizarre, will it tuhn us to moindless zombies?”
“Oh, sure, … if you drink enough of it. Ha, ha! No, it is safe to drink, my friends! Enjoy, for this is the Carnivalle of happy and fun times in the tropical sun, oui!”
“Oui!”
“I say! Jolly good! Absolutely delicious, don’t you think so, Persephone?”
“My word, I say, undeniably so, Kit.”
“Aye, well, Happy Carnivalle, me party commandos.”
“Yessir, Happy Carnivalle, y’all!”
“’appy Cahnivalle! Cheers!”
“Cheers!”
“Ha, ha! Let us now sing the song of Carnivalle!”
“Carnivalle!”
“Oh, oh, oh, come and play!”
“Oh, oh, oh, happy day!”
“Oh, oh, oh, golden ray!”
“Oh, happy happy Carnivalle Day!”
bump. bump. bump.
“In the Sun!”
“Carnivalle!”
“Having fun!”
“Carnivalle!”
“Toast my buns!”
“Carnivalle!”
“Better run!”
“Carnivalle!”
“Oh, oh, what am I drinking?”
“Oh, oh, got me winking and blinking.”
“Troubled not, I am thinking.”
“Trapped on the isle, San Moniquan!”
bump. bump. bump.
“In the Sun!”
“Carnivalle!”
“Having fun!”
“Carnivalle!”
“Toast my buns!”
“Carnivalle!”
“Better run!”
“Carnivalle!”
“It’s at dark that things start to reek.”
“Locked door shelter, we’re gonna seek,”
“For at sundown, evil will leak.”
“It’s the downside of life,”
“on
San
Monique.”
bump. bump. bump.
“Better beware!”
“Karnivalle of Despair!”
“Spider eggs in my hair!”
“Karnivalle of Despair!”
“Not on a dare, mon frere.”
“Karnivalle of Despair!”
“Lock yourself in your lair!”
“Karnivalle of Despair!”
bump. bump. bump.
“When the Sun goes down,”
“the night is so pleased,”
“Dark rises up from hours”
“of being teased.”
“Malignant powers,”
“they are released,”
“Death comes to life as the,”
“strolling deceased.”
“Oh, oh, oh!”
“Carnivalle!”
“Oh, oh, oh!”
“Carnivalle!”
“Oh, oh, oh!”
“Carnivalle!”
“Oh, oh!”
“Happy Happy Carnivalle!”
“Hey, y’all, was it just me, or did you all catch a slight undertone of darkness somewhere in that happy little song?”
“Look at this next incredible display of frolicsome behaviours, Persephone. What’s this dance that everyone is involved in? One long line of people has entwined and twisted its way throughout the plaza, like a gigantic, jolly, colourful snake of infectious merriment.”
“Ha, ha! You silly white tourists! Come and join our Kahnga Line!”
“Join us!”
“What the heck, y’all. Let’s do it! I’ll just jump in and lightly take the waist of this lovely San Moniquan girl.”
“’ey, Oye’m next! Wooh-hoo! Oye loikes this dance!”
“Jolly good, I’ll just follow along after Mirabella shall I?”
“Yes, Kit, I shall join in behind you. Officer O’Hagan? Can I trust you to take up a position behind me, eh, hem?”
“Aye, baughtte no. I cannot claim to be one hundred paercent troostwaerthy. I knows a thing or two concerning dancing, me buckos. Let’s see, this one, along with the train like linkage of Carnivalle participants, involves a spirited bouncing o’ one’s hips whiles maintaining a loosened spine and bobbly shoulders. The pelvic bones are in a constant tur-r-r-rmoil of motion in the up and down maneuvers and the side to side oscillations. I think we’re getting the hang of it!”
“Tee, hee! Miss Mimi Ma’am! You’re ticklin’ me! Tee, hee, hee!”
“All dat rumme’s got me inna ticklin’ mood, Icksi. How’s about when Oye grabs ye here?”
“Tee, hee!”
“Or when Oye pinches ye here?”
“Tee, hee!”
“Or when Oi gropes ye here?”
“Tee, HEE!”
“Miss Froust! I believe one is supposed to engage one’s partner by the light playing of one’s hands upon one’s partner’s hips, not in the double handful of buttocks that you would seem to prefer.”
“Oh, but these toight whoite twowsers make Icksi’s twitchy backsoide i’wesistable! ’is bulbous wittle bum is loike two large austrich eggs squuhmin’ under me palms.”
“Get. Out. Of. The. Way. Kit.”
“Hey! Wot’s deh big idea? Git your duhty paws off me you blue-blooded bimbo! Don’t you go grabbin’ me by the arm an’ spinning me about! Oye’ll gouge your blue peepers roight out o’ your ugly foyce, lady!”
“Oh, I say, you won’t be gouging out anyone’s eyes, you two-bit harlot, but you will unhand that man’s bottom, Madame.”
“It’s okay, Miss Plumtartt, it doesn’t really bother...”
“Quiet, Mr. Temperance.”
“Yes, Ma’am, Miss Plumtartt.”
“Oh, dew us all a fayvuh, would you Puhsephone? Dry up, you wet sack. Woye don’t ewe go walk about ten feet into the surf and then bury your head in the sand.”
“Oh, I say, no, Madame, the favour would be to the village in general if you would be so kind as to bury yourself in the sand, under jungle foliage, or, as you suggest, at sea, at least to the point that we no longer suffer under the breath stealing assault of your unfortunate choice in perfume.”
“Did ewe just imploy that Oye don’t smell noyce, ewe stuck up bucket o’ twiddle?”
“Oh, it’s ‘twiddle’ is it!”
“Twiddle it is.”
“Oh! I say, hrrr-REEEEERAUL!!!”
“Roight! hsssk! hrrr-REEEEERAUL!!!”
“Miss Mimi Ma’am!”
“Persephone, darling!”
“Aye! Ladies!”
“Rearal! I never should have allowed such a floozy as you to insinuate your way into our otherwise honourable company! Rearal! I say!”
“Rearal! Ewe uppity toast tart. Rearal! Ewe’s would still be stuck back in Galveston if it t’weren’t for me. Rearal!”
“Come on, ladies, Ma’ams. You all quits tearing, raking, biting, and gouging as you maintain a continuous rolling battle on the ground through the main square of La Seggheweighe amidst the screams and outcry of a horrified populace.”
“Ha! I say! I knew it! Rearal! As I tear your bright titian hair out of your skull, Rearal! I expose its artificially coloured roots! Rearal!”
“Rearal! You’re going to looks weal wady woikes, Rearal! when Oye bites your wittle nose from your awful gorm! Rearal!”
“Aye, that’s aboots enough o’ that! Ickity, graubs up our Mimi whiles Mr. Eppington here takes a hold o’ our Persephone. Aye, that’s it, being how this be a celebration o’ life and happiness, let’s not ruin the proceedings by infliction of maer-r-rder and disfigurement.”
“Ha, ha! Oui, mon amis! Happy Carnivalle!”
“Happy Happy Carnivalle!”
Chapter Fifteen:
Karnivalle of Despair
P.O.V. Multiple
“I’ll just tap this here hotel reception desk handbell of few times and we’l
l see if we can’t get settled in.”
ding! ding! ding!
“Uh, hello. Anybody home?”
“Oui? Oh! Bonjour! Welcome my unexpected white guests! Welcome to ‘Le Seggeweigh Inne’. I am so glad you have made it in time!”
“Aye, and just what do you mean, ‘in time’, me good man?”
“Before sundown, of course, my silly Irish friend! Ha, ha! So, I see five guests. Is this two and a half couples?”
“My word! I should say not! We shall engage five single rooms, thank you very much, sir!”
“Of course, Mademoiselle, as you wish. I do not see a lot of luggage, so I will just have my bellboy see you to your rooms. Jean-Spike! Oh, Jean-Spike? Where are you, you rotten bell-boy.”
“Enhhh, oui?”
“Jean-Spike! Straighten up! We have the unexpected guests! Messieurs and Mesdemoiselles, please excuse the uncouth appearance of my apprentice nephew. I am embarrassed to see my own bloodlines engaging in the disreputable fashion style of winding and teasing one’s hair into long, wound tails, not unlike a fox or raccoon. These tiny animal tails bob about the youthful teenager’s head in a shameless mop of delinquency. I find the lockes to be most dreadful.”
“Enhhh, oui?”
“Jean- Spike! Please to escort these honoured guests to their rooms!”
“Enhhh, oui.”
“Howdy there, Mr. Jean-Spike, buddy. Say, where’s the best place to celebrate Carnivalle after dark?”
“At home, Monsieur.”
“Heck, Jean-Spike, it’s early yet. It’s just now coming up on sundown. I figgered a big ol’ party like this would keep going well into the night.”
“It is a different party at night, Monsieur.”
“What do you mean, Jean-Spike?”
“Enhhh, well Monsieur, Carnivalle is to celebrate all that is happy and good, no? Food, fun, sun, and friendships. In Carnivalle, we celebrate life, oui?”
“Yessir.”
“Enhhh, well, then does it not make sense that we have the dark balance, no? If the living get to celebrate the bright day, then does it not make sense that the dead should celebrate the dark night?”
“Yessir, I reckon’ that makes sense, all right. Well, if the one we just celebrated is the ‘Happy’ Carnivalle, what do they call this other?”
“It is a night we designate ‘Karnivalle de Despairre’. The mournful, wretched dead that can find no peace wail out their torment to the cold indifferent night, and search for new victims to share in their misery.”
~clang~
“Enhhh, that’s my cue, Mesdemoiselles and Messieurs. That is the signal that sundown approaches. I am going now but do not worry, … the ‘Night Shift’ will be coming on duty shortly. If you are inclined to tip, be careful with your handouts, for they are liable to take an arm. Adieu, Mesdemoiselles and Messieurs.”
“Thanks, Jean-Spike, good night. Well, what do you say, folks?”
“I says we cannot be rescuing our mates and saving the waerld by coowering in our hotel rooms. I would like to investigate this ghastly ‘Kar-r-r-rnivalle o’ Despaerre’. Paerhaps its paerticipants can lead us to São Cochon.”
“I say, I should very well hope that they will be good enough to lead us all the way to the fulfillment of our rescue ambitions.”
“Aye, that would be joost grand. I can only hope that you two ladies are willing to co-exist with one another for the rest o’ this operation?”
“I say, I can certainly put the fate of the entire world before an iota of consideration for this undesirable woman.”
“Aye, that’s absolutely spiffy, Persephone. And how aboot’s you, Mimi, dear?”
“Don’t ’ave to worry ’bout me none, that boid don’t even exist as far as Oye’m concerned.”
“Ahh, aye. Isn’t that joost peachy.”
“Jolly good and sporting of you girls, I must say, eh, what?”
“Yeah, thanks, Ma’ams. No, I figger the best thing for us to do is to do a little reconnoiter. You know, just kinda sneak up on these ol’ zombies and keep an eye on ’em. Like Officer O’Hagan and Miss Plumtartt said, maybe we can follow ’em back to this cave that runs under the mountain of Miseriaiaia and gives us access to the hidden residence of Sku Le’Bizarre.”
“Roight, just you’se follows me. ‘ere we are, back in the town square of Le Seggheweighe. Cor’ Blimey! This place is totally deserted! These streets were teeming wiff festive loife and celebration just a little while ago, and now they are completely empty. Every house is shuttered up toight.”
“Aye, I would naughtte have thought this a scary town, baughtte now it is as creepy as the Paris catacoombs.”
“By Jove, I do believe I hear an approach of some kind through the surrounding jungle. Quite so, yes, do you hear it as well, Persephone my dove?”
“I say, now that you mention it, Kit my sweet, I do detect the low tone of heavy, shuffling steps pushing through intervening brush. As they sound to be moving in this direction, may I suggest that we take some sort of protective cover in an effort to elude observation by our quarry, eh, hem?”
“Brilliant as always, Persephone! Hear, hear, jolly good! Let us secret ourselves behind this convenient low wall, for our camouflage.”
“Aye, I soogest that we continue our conversation in a low, whisper, baughtte with a bit o’ a hiss to it tae carry to our entire group.”
“Sure thing, Officer O’Hagan, How’s this?”
“Aye, that’s joost fine, Ickety.”
“’ey, Oye thinks Oye spoi movement among the trees! Eek! They are the shadows of the walkin’ deceased!”
“Eek! Yes, Ma’am, Miss Mimi Ma’am, they are shamblin’ in from all quarters to form a huddled mass in the town square.”
“I say, Temperance, so they do; moreover, they maintain their swaying, rhythmic stance, whether or not they are in motion.”
“My word, Kit, they no longer stand about in place, but now listlessly shuffle about the square in an endless circle.”
“It ain’t their movement that scares me as much as the constant moaning and groaning they have taken up.”
“Nay Ickety, there be more to it than simple moans and groans. I think I understand the wretched moonstaers to be joining together in their protestations.”
...uhrRruuuhhhmmmrrRruuuhhhmmm...
...uhrRruuuhhhmmmrrRruuuhhhmmm...
“Search for Flesh,”
“Bone and Hair.”
“Karnivalle of Despairre.”
“Leave none for the Worms,”
“Cause we don’t Care.”
“Karnivalle of Despairre.”
“Stay away from Mirrors,”
“We don’t need the Scare.”
“Karnivalle of Despairre.”
“We want Fresh Flesh,”
“The Living should Beware.”
“Karnivalle of Despairre.”
“Cannibal Corpses,”
“Enjoying Human Fare”
“Karnivalle of Despairre.”
“Until Sku Le’Bizarre,”
“Calls us to his Lair.”
“Karnivalle of Despairre.”
“Karnivalle of Despairre.”
“Karnivalle of Despairre.”
“Karnivalle of Despairre.”
“Karnivalle of Despairre.”
“Karnivalle of Despairre.”
“Karnivalle of Despairre.”
“Karnivalle of Despairre.”
“Karnivalle of Despairre.”
“Karnivalle of Despairre.”
“I say, how very sporting of the undead chappies to so eloquently grant us this invitation, eh, what? Jolly good, let’s just sneak along behind, then eh? Good show, hear, hear!”
Chapter Sixteen:
Dead Man’s Trail
“Phffiffeteainne menne”
“Oughnna deadde manne’s cheistte.”
“Yough, hough, hoe”
“aughnna baughttel o’ rhumme.”
“Draenkke an�
�� the Deivil”
“Hhaughdde douhnne forre theigh reistte.”
“Yough, hough, hoe”
“aughnna baughttel o’ rhumme.”
“VooDoo filled Nights,”
“Ces’t Magnifique!”
“Yough, hough, hoe”
“aughnna baughttel o’ rhumme.”
“Blaucke Maugickes aundde Rhumme,”
“On the Isle of San Monique!”
“Yough, hough, hoe”
“aughnna baughttel o’ rhumme.”
“At least them sailor zombies on that there ship are a little more cheerful than their shore-bound counterparts.”
“The landlubbers are of the dead variety of zombies, m’lad. It is my understanding that these boat-bound brethren are still among the living, but under a powerful VooDoo curse, not unlike that which me dear own partner, Keefer boy, that I am here to rescue, languishes under himself, aye.”
“Oh, Oye’ve nevvuh seen no buhg loikes this before. This town is pitch dark! There’s not a lamp not candle to be seen in any window. It ain’t natural!”
“Quite so, Mirabella, but so far, as they say, so good, and I think we may agree. We can only assume that we are enjoying the height of the night-life scene here in São Cochon. The scene, of course, is non-existent, as there is not a single light burning anywhere. The low, moaning song of the unhappy zombies and the sound of their slow, drudgery of constant work are the only indication of activity in this piss-poor port. That parade of chanting party zombies was most accommodating in their leading us to these dreary docks. Temperance old boy, tell me, are you able to make out the name of this rum-running schooner in which the lifeless chappies labour?”
“Yessir, Mr. Eppington, sir. I can just make out the name on her bow in a momentary flare of moonlight through the thick cloud cover. This boat is saddled with the unfortunate name of ‘The Giddy Ge’de’.”
“Well done old boy. Still too dark for my eyes to make out, but the lack of proper illumination is so jolly good in that this deserted, ghost port does allow for surreptitious travel, I say, right up to the point of being able to gain an observational vantage point at a very close position. From behind this stack of empty barrels here, we are able to watch the industrious devils at their work, unloading empty rum casques from their ship’s hold, and then refilling it with full barrels.”
The Measure of Temperance (The Adventures of Ichabod Temperance Book 6) Page 10