Tuesday, July 29, 2014

Bernard's Long Night Of The Soul

The candles flickered in the library. The lone figure, bent wearily over his books, shook his head and sighed. He had been there from early morning, and now, in the small hours, he was thoroughly exhaused. Yet he would not rest, for he knew - somehow in his bones he knew - that what he was looking for was somewhere in here.

"Mr Gaynor?" enquired the librarian timidly, approaching the desk. "I really should be closing the library, sir. Perhaps you should go home."

Bernard did not lift his head, but let a light chuckle escape his lips.

The librarian was uncertain of her next move. "Mr Gaynor?"

"Dammit woman!" he exploded, turning his flashing, manly eyes upon her. "Do you think truth and justice run according to your schedules?"

The librarian had to admit, on brief reflection, that they did not. Gaynor waved in her face the hefty leatherbound tome over which he had most recently been poring. It was a dusty volume from the late 19th century, titled "HOW TO DO A SEX WITH LADIES". On the desk lay pages and pages of scribbled notes and a variety of other texts, some similarly aged, some modern, but all of them on related subjects: "HOW OUR BITS WORK" lay beside "RUDE PARTS AND WHAT THEY DO", which lay underneath "ANIMALS DOING IT IN PICTURES". Across the desk was "WHAT TO DO IF YOU ARE KISSING" and "WHO SHOULD BE ON TOP ANYWAY?", while tossed in frustration to the floor was a selection including "WHERE WHICH GOES IN WHAT FOR KIDS", "HAPPY TIMES WITH WIVES" and "HOW TO TELL IF YOU ARE A BOY".

Clearly the scholar had been studying intently in search of something, but what? The librarian shook her head and retreated. Locking the door behind her, she left him to his studies, all through the night.

Gaynor's eyes darted across the page in the dim light. He knew it was here: the key to all his theories, the one discovery that would electrify the world and prove once and for all that his warnings were timely and correct, and that indeed, the gays were seeking to steal his organs.

He flicked through pages and pages of diagrams and photographs and scholarly monographs and graphic depictions. He licked his lips, aroused and stimulated in a philosophical sense. He was so close, so close that he could taste it. Or at least he could taste something. It was salty.

And then...he saw it.

"YES!" he shrieked, his voice echoing around the musty halls of knowledge. All alone, he danced a dance of triumph. "I have it!" he yelled happily. "I have it!"

He leapt through the window, rolling joyously onto the grass amid a shower of broken glass, and rushed off in the direction of Officeworks to have as many laminated copies of his discovery made as possible, for dissemination amongst the media which would be in a few hours assembled on his doorstep.

For there, flapping wildly in his hand like the cape of a great hero of antiquity, was the book that contained the key, that would end the argument once and for all and allow Bernard to usher in a new age of genuine Christian love and well-oriented decency. It flapped and snapped in the breeze created by his great cross-lawn speed, his thumb placed still in the middle, keeping it open on the page which bore the great truth, the awesome discovery he had stumbled upon. For there, upon those yellowing, crackly pages, were the words with which he would change the world:


He cackled gleefully. From now on, everything was going to be all right.

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