The King Is Back
Yes folks it is true. The words of Hippy Flip will once again grace
these pages. It feels like years since I vacated my throne. I fled amidst the
politics and power struggles, fearing the knife piercing my back – or the bullet
stirring my brain as it ricochets around my skull. I left my people without
their voice but merely weeks after they had found it again. But I am here to
tell you that I am back, I am safe and the dream lives on. Freedom will be
ours.
Before I preach on about liberty and righteousness, let me tell you
about a story that starts with Liberty and ends with Righteousness. Scroll down
a few entries. Five in total; six with mine. You will find a beautiful poem
entitled ‘Liberty’s Bell’ by the
worldly, wordy woman who goes by the name of Liberty. This fine lady is a
member of The Strays and she was kind enough to tell us how to get a hold of
the password to BullCit. Actually I think her exact words were, “Fuck off,
Flip, you know I can’t tell you that shit.”
Of course it wouldn’t be in the spirit of what this blog has evolved
into to allow a gang of misfits try to manipulate their way into power. But
this gang had just the right mix of everything to achieve.
- A quick intro to help avoid the character set up scenes to justify
the later developments, we had Davie: the old guy, ball breaking cop with a
juicy conspiracy theorist centre; Forest: idiot and fall guy; Flip: all round
awesome, multi talented wunderboy!-
So back to Liberty. She was playing hard ball. But if there is one
thing we know about the ladies of the free love breed it’s that they love a bit
of a bang. And while the younger ones go out in search of their replacement
daddy, the older lasses like to go find the child they never had. Unfortunately
for Davie (or fortunately I dare say) Libs is his side of- I don’t know, forty
or fifty. So we had to take the son angle. In stepped Forest, into that shoddy
tent pitched in the nearby car park, and out he stepped with a brand new STD!
Sadly Libs was able to keep lips tight (at least the top lips, anyway).
So we were already boned it seemed. But the next morning I got a knock
on the van and Jason Effries is at the door. Turns out Jason is Liberty’s lover
and wants to find out who’s been cutting his grass. It also turns out that Big
Jay was the one and only entrusted with the BullCit Baton scripting the rather
clunky short story about a jock who becomes a hippy or some shit like that. I
didn’t finish it ( I barely got past the title ‘Jay is for Jock’). So I ask him if he is willing to reveal
the name of his successor. He says he is willing to make a trade.
So we head west in search of Dana Hinchcliffe, estranged daughter of
Big Jay who Liberty has no knowledge of. This young teen was entrusted by her
father to carry on the legacy via an email correspondence. Flip is driving with
Davie riding shotgun. Forest is in the back seat giving nothing but dirty looks
at me in the rear view (though the fact that his right eye was swollen and
purple and his left eye full of tears from what I can only assume as a severe
itch in the nether regions meant that his death stares were rather ineffective
and comical – good entertainment considering the radio had died).
Dana is the apple that fell from the tree and seemed to hitchhike the
fuck away from there, both figuratively and geographically. Some four hours in
the van brought us to her doorstep and we were greeted by a charming and
attractive young lady. So attractive in fact, that I payed a solo tribute to
her memory last night. She is also deaf, which explains the title of her entry
below ‘Music to my Eyes’. Dana sat
and heard us out as we pleaded our case (or saw us out, the words I mean, she
saw them out of our lips) and was willing to share with us her chosen one, she
was sorry to admit that she had kept the printed email in her handbag which had
been stolen a week prior. By the time she had lodged her police report and
considered her credit cards and driver’s license she had almost forgotten the
password was in there. She explained that she checked the site at once but it
had already been updated by an anonymous source.
But Davie is quick when it comes to cop business. He was on the phone
to his gay partner (in a professional sense only he claims) asking if he could
do a big favour. Now forgive me if these logistics seem dubious but Taylor put
a call out on a scum bag who robbed a deaf girl. Turns out the guy responsible
for the trashy but possibly witty parody ‘Thievin’ the Night’ was still being held not far from here. Sailor (the gay partner) bargained the password out of the idiot for
a reduced sentence and before passing it to us, the recently single flamer
posted his profile under the heading ‘Gaylor Made’ sure to be a hit in the community, I suspect. I think Davie is keen
actually.
But now the key lies with me. The original, the founder, and I have the
power again. But the Righteous conclusion here is that I will not be reclaiming
my title. I will pass this sacred pass on in honour of the evolution of
freedom. The evolution of Liberty!
But before I sign out I must express what is truly important. Walter
Wallace is in hiding now and we are all demanding his blood. But how are we so
easily fooled by the corporates at Citadel and their media monkeys spinning
this campaign. Tony Holdsworth is a hack. “Doctor” Sam Tank is a fraud. He is
one down the rung from the ultimate evil that is Boss Citadel. Do not buy into
their new products or the false promises. Walter never promised you this
happiness that you crave, but he did willingly try to help.
And now we condemn him? Fuck that! We need to rise up! Let us rise up
aginst the oppression. In two weeks from today we will be rallying out the
front of Citadel Towers! Read on here for more details. Share this page with
everyone. Spraypaint it on the billboards. We will show our strength in front
of the evil headquarters that threaten to dictate to us for the rest of our
days. We will be heard and seen and they will fucking listen!
No comments:
Post a Comment