Skinner Co. was recently lucky enough to be invited to the share the stage with our friends, Radio Project X, of radioprojectx.com. It was an excellent evening of magic, cheese men, and entertainment.
The Skinner Co. Network
FP Live 001 - Once in a Blue Moon
fellow mobsters we were recently lucky enough to be invited to share the stage with our friends Radio Project X of RadioProjectX.com. It was an excellent evening of magic, cheese men and entertainment. Stater is the shadow of the dark. Little by far, number less, little white flowers will nail fire, but when you're not bound like goats, I'll look for all you have, take you. Angels have no fire, love ever read, turning you, world I can't breathe by, but joy in you. Welcome to flashpaulplive episode one. Tonight we present coffin once in a blue moon part one of one. This episode is brought to you by groggy frog time massage, busy hacking the matrix to release innocent human batteries, preparing to counter an imminent Martian invasion, treating hard to survive the zombie apocalypse. That's a lot of stress. You should probably talk to Kim from groggy frog about a time massage. Find her on Facebook by searching for groggy frog time massage or point your browser towards Kimberlychurch.com. Flashpulp is an experiment in broadcasting fresh pulp stories in the modern age. Three to ten minutes of fiction brought to you Monday, Wednesday, and Friday evenings. Tonight we offer up a not so shaggy dog story as told by Will Coffin, urban shaman. Coffin once in a blue moon part one of one. Written by J.R.D. Skinner, co-produced by Jessica May and Peter Church, with Coffin voiced by Tim Walker, Bunny Davis voiced by Opoponax, and narration by Kevin Ritchie. It was getting late. Bunny could tell as the edges of her vision had started sprouting chia pet fuzz under the glazing of liquor that she'd had time to drink. "Maybe we ought to pound bricks," she said to Will. Speaking was enough to throw her stability off wildly, and she found herself leaning heavily on the table for support. "We'll get you a glass of water first," Coffin replied. With a hand sign, he summoned the bar keeps attention. Dorset, prepared for the eventuality, made his way to their seat with a full cup fresh from the tap and a pair of Advil tablets. Will nodded his thanks, and Bunny began to attempt to swallow the preventative medicine. "When it gets to this point," said Coffin, "you always sit there sipping like a bird. I just watched you nearly drown while consuming the better part of two large bottles of vodka. Why does it take you so long to finish a tumbler of the most basic essential to human life?" "It tastes weird." "Well, don't rush anyhow. We're waiting for someone." "It's way past my bedtime." "If we were to head to the apartment right now, you'd just spend the next couple of hours watching TV anyway." "I gotta say good night to the letter, man. That cheeky bastard." Coffin pulled back the sleeve on his leather jacket, exposing the watch underneath. Shouldn't be long. I'll tell you a bit of a story in the meantime. He cleared his throat, and she went on worrying at her beverage. Once, there was a dog. Good, solid, family kind of dog. Little white mutt with curly hair and a love of napping on warm couches. One night, he's following the ritual, waiting at the patio door after being out for the last time of the evening. Usually, his master returns in five or ten minutes to let him back in, but this eve. Unbeknownst to the canine, the humans been sidetracked by a cable channel playing Bruce Lee's Chinese connection, and he's fallen asleep in his lazy boy. The pooch waits a while, but he starts to get a bit cold. He paces for warmth. Eventually, an hour in, he gets bored. It's his first time loose this late, and there's a whole range of nocturnal smells he has yet to experience. He wanders away from the deck, and under a broken board in the fence. At first, he's excited, a little dog in the city after sunset. He's trotting down the side sidewalks, looking for someone to share his adventure with, or at least a trashcan to raid, when he finds himself passing through a darkened park. He knows the place. The master's kid takes him there sometimes, when the boy is attempting to leverage his cuteness to talk to girls. But there's something on the breeze that smells off to him. Suddenly, a naked man scrambles from the trees, running straight for him. Before the beast knows what's happening, he's been bitten on his right back leg. Well, the mutt's not interested in being some perverted homeless guy's meal, so he bolts. Shaken, he retraces his steps home. His slightly panicked barking is enough to bring his master back to consciousness just at the film's conclusion, and they both slink off to bed. "Fantastic," said Bunny, "a story heartwarming enough to revive the fucking Benji franchise, but I'm done my water. Let's go." Coffin ignored her. Things were fine for the next 30 days or so, but while the forelegger was again outside dampening the rose bushes for the last time of the evening, he feels the old tooth mark starting to itch. Then he realizes something is happening. It feels like the ground is falling away from him. He nearly throws up. Then he's cold and naked. He looks at himself and he has two hands and two feet. He's confused and scared. He can't go back into the home. His master will think he's some nudist madman trying to burgle the place. He hops a few fences and gets lucky. Someone with a clothesline has left out a string of relatively fitting laundry. Of course, he's still needed somewhere to go. So he will pause as the door to the establishment swung open and a sharp featured man with a head of curly white hair stepped in. The latecomer's nostrils flared, tasting the odors of the room. "Been a while," said Coffin, raising his voice to cover the distance. Standing, he waved the new arrival to a nearby seat and asked, "Can I buy you a drink?" Flashpulp is presented by Flashpulp.com and is released under the Canadian Creative Commons attribution non-commercial 2.5 license. (audience clapping)