My life is summed up by a poster hanging above my toilet. Its a quote from trainspotting - something along the lines of 'Choose Life', but expounded on in 10 sentences or so, my favorite being 'And wondering who the fuck you are on Sunday morning' So, if you use my toilet at my house, you'll be forced to read how I look at the world. When I moved about a week ago, I hung said poster and I was inspired. I was inspired to write a short story about a not-so-evil Scotsman that had the only lavatory in a small tourist town, 30 miles south of Inverness. The story is told in the first person by some unwitting tourist, probably American. I may as well expound on the stereotype to please the Europeans in the readership, specifically the French, who think of Americans as especially unwitting. Whelp, anyway, the American eats a heavy meal of steak pie and McEwans in the previous town he visits, and finds himself in a quaint village where the not-so-evil Scotsman has his shop and an exclusive lock on the washing up facilities. The American walks in, and after a not so heated exchange and the realization that he really doesn't have a choice, takes the manifesto and makes his way to the crapper. And after all, being forced to read the manifesto really isn't that big a deal. It may actually be interesting, thinks the tourist. The manifesto lays out the not-so-evil Scotsman's plan of first raising his henchmen army by forcing people to read his self-purported, very convincing manifesto by the diabolical means to which the unwitting tourist has himself been subject. It goes on to describe the Scotsman's plan to turn everyone in the world into Scotsmen by dispersing a 'wurrm' which will cause men to be unable to reproduce unless they have wool against their willies and thus forcing them to wear a kilt, sans underwear, during their waking hours. The hope of the plan is not to hold the world population for ransom, for the Scotsman knows how hard it is to part with a farthing. Its not for fame, or power. He just thinks it is really cool to be Scottish, and thinks everyone else in the world should be, too. The American, nearly at the end of his trip, sees the vaildity of the plan. After all, it is good to be Scottish. During his trip, the American has tasted good beer, listened to Belle and Sebastian, and has seen the sublime beauty of the highlands in the summertime, all green and fertile. The plan is working perfectly, thinks the not-so-evil Scotsman. But the American is not so easily swayed. After all, Belle and Sebastian tour America. He can buy a pint of Irn Bru at the local bodega. And it would be as dreary as a Glasgow rainstorm if there was nothing else in the world of any other color but tartan. The American, now relieved, flushes, and bids a good day to the not-so-evil Scotsman. The Scotsman replies in kind. In the movie version, I'll try to get Sean Connery to play the part of the Scotsman. John +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ Brought to you by the Sinister mailing list +---+ To send to the list mail sinister@missprint.org. To unsubscribe send "unsubscribe sinister" or "unsubscribe sinister-digest" to majordomo@missprint.org. WWW: http://www.missprint.org/sinister +-+ "sinsietr is a bit freaky" - stuart david, looper +-+ +-+ "legion of bedroom saddo devotees" "peculiarly deranged fanbase" +-+ +-+ "pasty-faced vegan geeks... and we LOST!" - NME April 2000 +-+ +-+ "frighteningly named Sinister List organisation" - NME May 2000 +-+ +-+ "sick posse of f**ked in the head psycho-fans" - NME June 2001 +-+ +-+ Nee, nee mun pish, chan pai dee kwa +-+ +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+