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No one has ever seen her eat anything else. It -is only just before a shot that she hears what anyone says or talks herself. Then she makes some flat, factual statement relative to her own person. "My asshole is occluding." "My cunt got terrible green juices." Iris is one of Benway's projects. "The human body can run on sugar alone, God damn it.... I am aware that certain of my learned colleagues, who are attempt- ing to belittle my genius work, claim that I put vitamins and proteins into Iris's sugar clandestinely.... I chal- lenge these nameless assholes to crawl up out of their latrines and run a spot analysis on Iris's sugar and her tea. Iris is a wholesome American cunt. I deny categori- cally that she nourishes herself on semen. And let me take this opportunity to state that I am a reputable sci- entist, not a charlatan, a lunatic, or a pretended worker of miracles.... I never claimed that Iris could subsist exclusive on photosynthesis.... I did not say she could breathe in carbon dioxide and give off oxygen -- I con- fess I have been tempted to experiment being of course restrained by my medical ethics.... In short, the vile slanders of my creeping opponents will inevitably fall back onto them and come to roost like a homing stool pigeon." ORDINARY MEN AND WOMEN Luncheon of Nationalist Party on balcony overlook- ing the Market. Cigars, scotch, polite belches.... The Party Leader strides about in a jellaba smoking a cigar and drinking scotch. He wears expensive English shoes, loud socks, garters, muscular, hairy legs -- overall effect of successful gangster in drag. P.L. (pointing dramatically): "Look out there. What do you see?" LIEUTENANT: "Huh? Why, I see the Market." P.L.: "No you don't. You see men and women. Ordi- ruzry men and women going about their ordinary every- day tasks. Leading their ordinary lives. That's what we need...." A street boy climbs over the balcony rail. Lieutenant: "No, we do not want to buy any used condoms! Cut!" P.L.: "Wait!... Come in, my boy. Sit down.... Have a cigar.... Have a drink." He paces around the boy like an aroused tom cat. "What do you think about the French?" -Huh?" 'The French. The Colonial bastards who is sucking your live corpuscles." "Look mister. It cost two hundred francs to suck my corpuscule. Haven't lowered my rates since the year of the rindpest when all the tourists died, even the Scandinavians." P.L.: "You see? This is pure uncut boy in the street." "You sure can pick'em, boss. |
