Happenings of a human nature 1

Happenings of the Human Nature #1

One day at work something changed in Adrian’s head. This wasn’t what he was meant to be doing, something was driving him away from everything he knows in search of something he doesn’t yet understand. The messages came through the wind, and spoke in different guises.

“Did you do what we told you to do?” said the pillow.
Adrian pushed the infernal thing over towards Ellen, she always hogged the pillows normally, what was this bloody one doing by his face sleeping position ?
“Shut up and go to sleep” Adrian muttered.
“You are a slag chops Adi, I spend all day being fluffed by the mega beast and you don’t even spend five minutes telling me how it’s going down. You need to become a better friend if our relationship is to continue mister.” snorted the disgruntled pillow, who’s name was Jeff, just for name’s sake of course.
“Hay come on Jeff, this isn’t the time, I have a big day tomorrow and can’t be up all night discussing the specifics to a god damn ball of feathers”
Jeff looked at Adrian with demon eyes, but he isn’t a demon really, just giving that kind of a look, even though he doesn‘t have real eyes.
“I have not a single feather within my person. I am pure fluffy cotton or something like that. Now listen to me, if our plan is to go swimmingly we have to trust each other. I am getting worried about our “mutuality”. I have a feeling deep in my fluffy stomach that you aren’t on side one hundred and twenty six percent. I am growing concerned that you might go bucky up on the twizzle and spill cold beans all over the nicely varnished floor, leaving me and the guys no choice but to use your over oiled face to mop up the mess. Now I don’t want to get old school uniform on your little hairy and spotty behind but you don’t seem to be leaving me a hell of a lot of choices”, Jeff needed to scare Adrian to get him to the on side.
Adrian on the other hand, did not take kindly to the threats of an over puffed, fluffed up night time head rest, since he knew that all the others were not coming over tonight, only pillowcase face was speaking this night.
Adrian grabbed Jeff and hurled him across the room, watching as Jeff’s body cracked into the radiator, arched back splinter, the cracking of fluff on slightly warm metal.
“You’ll regret that in the morning Adrian, mark my words”
“I can’t hear you Jeff, you’ll have to call again in the morning”, Adrian sniggered as he drifted back to sleepy town.

Guillaume lives by the sea, soaking up the calming rolling seas and golden yellow sands as far as the eyes can see. It wasn’t always this way for Guill, in fact just a few short hours ago he was a poor lonely French maths teacher, as in he was from France and taught maths, not a teacher of French and Maths, that would be too much to ask of someone ( at least someone French…only joking, I love the French, which is why I can make fun of them).
Things had changed for him only two days ago when he won the Euro lottery and walked away with thirty two million euros, not a bad nest egg, or boiled egg either for that matter.
Thankfully for Guill, his divorce had all gone through and his ex wife was not going to get a tiny fingerprint on a single penny of his jackpot. He may give a bit to his daughter though, she is still the most important thing in his life, the only thing he ever felt he truly did right with his time.
The sun pelted down, heating up the high factor suntan lotion to useless point.
“This is it. I’m going to spend the rest of my days on this beach soaking in the sun until I am a human sun dried tomato. Then they can bottle me up and send me back home to France, where I would be saying this in French If the writer understood the intricate swoops and sways of the beautiful language.” said Guillaume to himself, out loud for some reason.

The barman in the tiny bar hut up the top of the beach looked down and Guill, because the beach slopped down and not up, he was living in a standard reality, not some upside down wibble reality full of man eating pigs and insect parliaments.
Greg the barman knew there was something worthwhile about this little French fish that had crawled onto his beach. You see, Greg was no ordinary barman, he had not had ample years of barman training, he could hardly even flip a tube and whip up a tasty special cocktail, even with high quality ingredients flown directly to him from their country of origin in chilled containers for preservative reasons.
Greg was a spy, for who he wasn’t sure anymore. He’d been freelance for some years, still using his English code name of Greg rather then his really name of R81 18XR. He had a reprogram able mind, and had been bred especially for secret missions, but after his last endeavour for the Chinese government he had an attack of the moral kind and fled, not completing his task and leaving a trail of blood behind him, of which very little was his and even less was a girl called Francesca who has nothing to do with this story at all but wanted a quick name shout out.
Greg hiding, not sure what was happening to him at all, his memory was fading or being erased before his very eyes by the people out looking for him.

Then there was Louise, she had many friends, and a comfortable life. A swimming pool in the back garden and all the company a human being could ever need (especially if the human happens to have a shopping fetish, loves to shop a bit to much, much to much in fact). Her parents are loaded to the gills, spitting money and dropping golden logs in the porcelain bowl of the seat variety.
Unfortunate for her, like all the other characters in this game of life, things can very quickly change on us. The serpent does not lay far from this middle aged temptress who has used her looks of old to spread her partied out seeds. Her wasted life will soon serve a purpose to the greater good of all, if you can believe something like that every happens to party whores.

Hilary was a cool cat. She was from the harder up side of life then lucky Louise, but she had something Louise could not come close to possessing, spirit. She had watched her life spiral out of control on more then a few occasions because of some crazy situation brewing in the storm. But she was happy, her life was going the way she had always hoped. She had a good man, and hopefully one day he will pop the question and they can settle down and have some kids. Hilary could talk her way out of anything, even a paper bag, or a plastic one (not to be attempted by anyone except fictional characters in this story, and rat men for some reason).