Peter And The Wolf

Noncanonical Texts

Bolton Abbey and Mount St. Odile Script Fragments

Thursday, July 19, 2007

Chapter 249 Verse 57-60

And lo it was written that history shall be repeated again and again and again and again and again and again and again until the parodies become the reality and the sad men on the Underground become the presidents and prime ministers and the women they want become impossible memories and victims of the latest bloody war.

And lo it was written, and everyone fell to their knees and begged not to go on. But they had to go on, because they were designed that way, to want to go on, and breath, and eat, and sleep.


Faisal saw all this and knew that it could not come to any good. He wept, silently and forever.

Monday, October 23, 2006

Chapter 908

Verses 28 - 32

Love not the silent fear, for loudly will it shake you down and steal your change.
Love not the late night high flight, for the morning comes more forcefully, heavier and blunt.
It will tear your aching heart apart.
Look longingly into mirror, with condensed morning breath obscuring tired mourning eyes,
and beg beg beg your Lord for mercy.
But still it will not come.

And then, on the last day, when the final pension payment has been made, the light will fall upon your drunken deeds, your whole drunken life, in which you stumbled blind from one empty promise to another. Oh praise praise in the highest, now you see the light, the cracks in the brush strokes and the dirt under the nails. Oh praise and praise and ecstasy, now you feel the damp, the cold under the cushion and the sulphur of the lightning strike. On this day there will be howling and gnashing of teeth, and tea and coffee, and biscuits, and a Welsh hymn, and the youngsters dressed in grieving black, and the chimney smoke, as you go back.

Hallowed be His game.

Sunday, October 22, 2006

Chapter 112

Verses 19-26

It was at this time that Simon The Pilferer was remonstrating in Hahfalaeth, and many people traveled to the Great City of Capethafar to seek refuge. On the fourth morning a young shepherd girl lead her flock to the west of the city to seek out fresh pastures and gather selotape juice from the slopes of Mount Sheercapethafar. A hermit by the name of Charles had lived in nearby caves for many centuries, and saw the young girl approaching from a distance. Without hesitation he prepared a fire and a boiling pot. When the girl reached the pastures close to Charles he called to her, saying "Young girl, come here so that I might boil you in my pot." Sensing Charles was a great man, the girl hopped into the pot and was promptly boiled. Later that evening the girl returned home. As she approached the people of the city began to panic, saying "Hark at her, she is returned boiled and hardened." When the young girl entered the city it was clear that she had lasers on her wrists and missiles in her toes. From this day forth she was known as Charalaffarmonagsheth, meaning "The girl that Charles the Hermit boiled so as to give her lasers on her wrists and missiles in her toes."
It was the fifth day, and the people slowed.

Thursday, October 12, 2006

Chapter 456

Verses 13-59

Phileas begat James,
James begat Raymond
Raymond begat Adahar,
Adahar begat Jabel,
Jabel walked among the peoples of the earth for forty years and forty days. Jabel is the father of all those who play twind instruments or wake themselves with a sudden jolt as they are falling asleep. And then he died.
Jabel begat Samson,
Samson begat Sampson,
Sampson begat the Leylandii Tree
the Leylandii Tree begat Phillip,
Phillip was a fierce man known across the land of Sid and Ashar for his fearlessness. He killed 4,000 men and all the seed of Adhar, King of Assaria, and on the 3rd epoch the cloud took him.
Phillip begat 12 children, the best of which was Raisin.
Raisin studied the creatures of the earth and married into the Nephilim. However, Greasy Jack, daughter of Phileas and oldest among all peoples of the earth, struck him down in envy. From this day forth Raisin was known as Rhiashajack, meaning 'slain of Jack'.
Raisin begat Selby,
Selby begat Fitzsimmons,
Fitzsimmons begat Lesley,
Lesley was a disease,
Lesely begat Dale.
At this time no rain had fallen on the earth and men lay with other men for japes.

In the fourth year of the reign of Phillip, Dale undertook a GNVQ in statecraft, receiving a 2:1 in chicanery, a 1:2 in tomfoolery, a 2:2:1 in jiggerypokery, a minor in shenanigans and a major in networked management management management network rollout topdown slash dot management. He went on to perform an auxiliary role in the governance of the land, soliciting research drafts of strategy papers from third rate academic institutions and thinktank/lobbyist/advocacy/thieving groups. He was lonely, he was weary, he was ugly, he was feared, he was a highly sucessful politician. In the eighth year of the reign of Phillip, it rained. Dale died.

Dale Begat Shannon,
Shannon begat Elisa,
Elisa begat Elizzar,
Elizzar begat Joseph,
Joseph begat Shirley,
Shirley begat nine Franks,
three Franks begat two Felicitys and one Seamus, six Franks begat four Cales,
Four Cales begat Dinah,
Dinah begat Motown,
Motown begat Anya,
Anya begat Graeme,
Graeme begat Graham,
Graham begat Nigel,
Nigel father only one child, a girl known as a Sarai-el Farah, meaning "Born unto me is sorrow"
Sarai-el Farah begat Tiny,
Tiny begat Jesse,
Jesse begat a Cat,
a Cat begat Myrtle,
Myrtle begat Sue,
Sue took the pill for all her days and died.

Tuesday, October 03, 2006

Chapter 198

Verses 14-17

Then the people came and said: "Teacher, tell us how to live our lives so that we too can inherit this kingdom of which you speak." After fondling a twig, the teacher turned to the people, saying:
Don't go to the Governor's house.
The Governor's house is dry.
The house is dry and full of rats.
It's a rat house, the Governor's house.
After hearing these words the people felt humbled, and returned to their villages to tell their neighbours what they had heard.

Wednesday, April 19, 2006

Chapter 435

Verses 13-32

And then some.

The smells of dog death will fade away, and the seal fat and the dry sherry will seem limp and frail. Tiny microdeath will creep around your forehead, ploughing furrows in your furrowed brow and building altars to pagan gods who make you sick. And then you'll fall upon your sword, and your neighbours sword which you swopped for a lawnmower, and the swords of all you come across in the town. And when you slump in your chair in the eventide you'll recede like a shit in the sewers to the cold recesses of your dumb memory. But you were never great, my child, nor ever so complete or fullsome. You were never in the moment, or yourself or another or free or enslaved. The sliding mirrors of your slick sickly eye lids do you no favours, because the world does you no favours, because you do yourself no favours. They only serve to cover up those things you cannot touch. You can look, you can always look, but you will never touch. Nor should you have to, but you ache for it whether you know it or not. So the sun will rise again and so will you, as about as risen as burning bun, and crumble into the daylight and bumble through the business until its time to collapse into that fitless coma you call rest. Dickhead. Now shut up, shut down and shy off. So said fierce De Nilson, not a dutchman or a disease, but a silent chapter in an ever unfolding nothing-book.

Tuesday, April 11, 2006

Chapter 153

Verses 13-24

Sitting down upon the rocky ledge he began to speak to the crowd, saying:

"Be good. Be really really good. Don't be bad. That would be really bad. Don't tell lies and stuff. It can be very difficult sometimes to tell the truth, but its easy for me because I have a massive willy."

When he had finished saying these things he got up to leave, but a flock of disgruntled geese surrounded him, dashing him to oblivion before the crowd. It was late on the fourth day, and everyone went home for their tea.