— And “The Skunk” … shame about him …
— I heard you were going to close up the kitchen …
— Yeah, were going to knock out the bathroom wall instead …
— Prison or mental hospital, that’s the choice …
— You don’t say …
— You don’t get out too much …
— You have to stay sharp …
— Talk about a fucked-up guy … I’m so fucking cursed …
— What did he do …
— He’s bonkers … what a moron …
— It was then, after we’d had coffee … that’s when he rolled up a thousandkronornote and stuffed it up my pussy …
— Hey there …
— Hello …
— You going out this evening …
— No idea … you …
— Nah …
— Stop on by …
— Nah …
— Byebye, baby!
— Byebye!
— I always forget how ugly you are …
— Right back at you!
— You’re going to put your mother in an earlygrave! She wont survive it!
— A blindbitch is the only thing that’ll fuck you! One without fingers! And a nose!
— You’ve got a face only a mother could love!
— You’re a miscarriage no mother would want!
— Your mother was a jackal!
— Your mom looks like a dugong!
— We’re looking at new wallpaper …
— And lightfixtures …
— We bought a house …
— A fairyhouse …
— Were looking for a catheter …
— Were looking for someone to talk shit about …
Two troglodytes came up beside us … one was babbling like an incubatorbaby on laughinggas …
— I’ve thought up a damn good movie idea! Want to hear it!
— No …
— So here’s the deal! Jacques de Molay (de Niro) and Hermann von Salza (Brandauer) are celebrating their honeymoon on a luxurycruise somewhere in the Caribbean … Just picture it … alpine landscapes … ciggibutts … retarded dolphins … boys, kulis, and pickolos … quick-as-a-whip flashbacks … bodybuilders in hotpursuit … loversquarrels … Pinocchiojokes … heartbreaking motoric disturbances … Can’t you just see it all?
— No …
— Anyway! They’ve got it fucking good! They catch albatrosses and dress them in bikinis … one evening they get so shitfaced they start rewriting literary history … they bask lazily in the sun making fun of straight, farming Swedes … Then, boom! Schleyer (Rutger Hauer) and Moro (Nicholson) turn up with a cocaine delivery and a pair of fat, ignorant fucksluts! They force them to drop anchor! And when Hermann and Jacques try to save the day, they hijack the ship! But a hurricane is coming! They’ve sabotaged the radio! Don Johnson is hidden in a sack of cocaine, he’ll probably sleep forever: a closeup of his shitsmeared undies! They drag him out and throw him to the hammerheads! like a sack of garbage! Cut to the cabin! It’s evening and Robert and Klaus-Maria have begun to suspect they’ve got a couple of scumbags on their hands. I’ve thought out some nice pieces of dialogue and memorized them! Just listen to this … Nicholson’s been working a cheerleader’s ass with a rhubarbstalk. Now he’s having some warm chocolatemilk and liverpaste on toast and he’s got that sneer … he looks scarier than he did at the Overlook Hotel … And so he says … think of his Lokigrin and that impudent eyebrowcurl … So he says, low and hoarse … “I want to torment, humiliate and cut up all girls who refuse to drink the washingwater of lepers and eat lice and shit from poor peoples clothes … What the fuck … It’s not too much to ask for that! Like Angela of Foligno … and Catherine of Genoa … the saintcunts … I want to promote Heydrich-worship … And the Saint-Justcult … Make this fucking world a decent place to live in.. ” Hell yeah, that’s cold! ice cold! and just like him, too!
— No, it’s awkward … Just pathetic …
— He’s dangerous when hes drunk …
— Don’t look now, but there’s the guy that trashtalks Skellefteå …
— I see him … the punk … the motherfucker …
— A coward, that’s what he is …
— He’s got to be totally fucked in the head …
— Get a load of that, full SS-gear …
— He should be stoned …
— Axl Rose … now he’s a tasty bugger …
— There aren’t any prettyboys in this town …
— They fuck like invalids …
— They don’t know what a girl wants …
— They don’t know what a girl needs …
— Love and affection …
— Precisely …
Grandpa led the way with his Merovingian stride. An ostentatious municipal building is next to the citypark … the social welfareoffice, not to mention the employment office … Stasi and Securitate … Local politics in Skellefteå is the battlefield of retired officemachinery … The park is small … the river is nearby, too few people have drowned themselves there … larches and south-ernhardwoods … no drunks, though … Something bustled in the hedgerow … someone was up to no good … we got scared … started to sober up … we turned around and beat a retreat …
— Let s take the bus to Morö Hollow!
We cut across Possibility Square … lots of shops … Polarn O. Pyret … Stor eller Liten … got on the number 2 bus … Grandpa paid for us both … it started up … it was ten past two … it was nice to sit, even if the bus was full of the dying … a pimplefaced teen was reading Delumeaus Sin and Fear … a poster showed a cleancut retard with the words “handler wanted” … we crossed the traintracks and turned towards Lasarettsbacken …
— We should’ve stopped and said hello to Abraham Bessik in the longtermcarefacility, Grandpa suddenly remembered. He could use a little cheering up.
I sat quietly and stared out into hell. Grandpa flipped through an issue of Siegrunen. Over the E-4 … along Tors Street … I saw a little cavalierdog, absurdly happy — being dragged by two washedup old coots who waved at me … past Norrvalla and Eddahallen … Grandpa had had himself a nice jacuzzifuck there one night … or was that someone else? We continued east … towards Järnskogen … Morö proper was a ghetto … apartmentblocks and parkinglots … then Morö Hollow … a sleepy town … houses in rows … each one worse than the last … blocks of greenhouses … hatcheries … burning plastics … spiraea, hydrangeas, and blue mother-of-pearl clematis, all wilting, of course … peace and order, psychosis on Friday … A German shepard fucking a dachshund … a weimaraner, a papillon dog … the busgate was lifted …
— Here’s where we get off, Grandpa said. This is Dripdrop Street.
We strolled around a bit … past gloomy little houses … they might’ve been red and white … looked in on other people’s wasted lives … An old crone glared at us from between a Hoya bella and a busy Lizzy … A group of darkies were having a fight …
A henpecked husband sucked on a Volkswagon’s exhaustpipe and dreamed of suicide … A loudmouthed, middleaged, brown — haired whore in a Mickey Mouse T-shirt was getting her Daily Double on the kitchen table … she grabbed the balls that were beating her ass and bellowed like someone possessed … Teiresias sure had it right … Next door the light was dim … no one in sight …
— Bempa lives here … he’s Royal Marlenes son-in-law, and Popo Dahlbergs sister-in-law … Anyway: before I ring the doorbell … Remember on the old TV show, what was it called, Juttu? When Uncle Lauri carves a willow pipe for that six-year-old whore?