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Authors: Irvine Welsh
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interests converge?
— I want the land they have. It's over two hundred square miles. With my smaller park joined to these resources, we could be in business. Big business. I'm offering opportunity, Roy. I'm offering vision. However, there will always be malcontents who choose to resist progress. The neighbouring park, Emerald Forest, is infested by the most vicious and unscrupulous predators/scavengers on this continent. I'm referring, of course, to your old friends . . .
— The Marabou Storks.
— I hear that there is one you're interested in? The leader?
— You hear correctly.
—I want to help you take him out. I'll put all my resources at your disposal.
— Well, we need a couple of pump-action shotguns, some maps . . . explosives . . .
— Anything! Dawson bounded across and shook my hand. — Well, as they say, let's kick ass, or rather, you chaps kick ass. I'm going to disappear for a while. It's, eh, the family; slightly jittery about all this. We also have a hostile media to contend with.
Dawson barked instructions to Diddy to kit us out, and we were off.
4 Leptoptilos
Crumeniferus
The Marabou Stork is a predator. The Marabou Stork is also a scavenger. These qualities make it detested and despised by human beings. Humans are into animals whose qualities they covet, and hate ones whose characteristics they vainly like to feel are not at all 'human'. The world we live in is not run by cuddly, strong bears, graceful, sleek cats or loyal, friendly dogs. Marabou Storks run this place, and they are known to be nasty bastards. Yes, even the vulture does not get such a bad local press.
Fatty Dawson was sold on the concept of taking out the leader, creating a vacuum, and watching the birds turn on each other and tear each other apart in disarray. I knew that this would not happen. I knew that these birds were far more sophisticated and organised than Dawson gave them credit for. Dawson was from the west; he didn't understand these creatures. Another leader would swiftly emerge. You couldn't eradicate the Marabous, they were purely a product of their environment, and this scabrous environment totally supported them. The best you could hope for was to perhaps force them into a temporary migration. Nonetheless, I was happy to let both Dawson, and my guide Sandy, believe that the eradication of the leader was an appropriate strategy for ridding the Emerald Forest of the Marabou Stork.
For me it was personal. There was only one Stork I wanted, one of those beasts which had to die. I sipped some cool water from my canteen. My lips had dried in the heat. I removed a tube of Vaseline from my coat pocket to apply to them, just as Sandy emerged naked from the river, where he had been taking a dip to gain respite from the omnipresent heat.
He looked at me tensely, then glanced around at the deserted wilderness. There was nothing and nobody about for miles. He rolled his eyes naw he
– One could think of other uses for that, Roy, he smirked – – – – – – – – naw didnae roll
his eyes
Sandy and I
urnae like that it wis jist mates muckin aboot– – – –DEEPER
DEEPER
DEEPER– – – he quickly got into his clothes.
Sandy and I were well-kitted out for the task at hand. Tooled up with rifles, shotguns, explosives and carrying absolute stacks of provisions: jam, English Breakfast Tea, tins of beans, soup, desserts, all that sort of stuff. Stuff that doesn't go off in this confounded heat.
I did, however, notice some reticence on Sandy's part concerning what on the surface seemed to be a fairly straightforward task.
— What's your opinion of Johnny Stork, Sandy old man? I asked him.
— They are evil incarnate, Roy. They have to be stamped out for the good of the game, Sandy replied, ashen-faced.
— You don't have any concerns about us not being up to the task do you, Sandy? I enquired.
up – – – – time will tell.
— Time will tell, he said up grimly, time will tell. – – – –
— I want the land they have. It's over two hundred square miles. With my smaller park joined to these resources, we could be in business. Big business. I'm offering opportunity, Roy. I'm offering vision. However, there will always be malcontents who choose to resist progress. The neighbouring park, Emerald Forest, is infested by the most vicious and unscrupulous predators/scavengers on this continent. I'm referring, of course, to your old friends . . .
— The Marabou Storks.
— I hear that there is one you're interested in? The leader?
— You hear correctly.
—I want to help you take him out. I'll put all my resources at your disposal.
— Well, we need a couple of pump-action shotguns, some maps . . . explosives . . .
— Anything! Dawson bounded across and shook my hand. — Well, as they say, let's kick ass, or rather, you chaps kick ass. I'm going to disappear for a while. It's, eh, the family; slightly jittery about all this. We also have a hostile media to contend with.
Dawson barked instructions to Diddy to kit us out, and we were off.
4 Leptoptilos
Crumeniferus
The Marabou Stork is a predator. The Marabou Stork is also a scavenger. These qualities make it detested and despised by human beings. Humans are into animals whose qualities they covet, and hate ones whose characteristics they vainly like to feel are not at all 'human'. The world we live in is not run by cuddly, strong bears, graceful, sleek cats or loyal, friendly dogs. Marabou Storks run this place, and they are known to be nasty bastards. Yes, even the vulture does not get such a bad local press.
Fatty Dawson was sold on the concept of taking out the leader, creating a vacuum, and watching the birds turn on each other and tear each other apart in disarray. I knew that this would not happen. I knew that these birds were far more sophisticated and organised than Dawson gave them credit for. Dawson was from the west; he didn't understand these creatures. Another leader would swiftly emerge. You couldn't eradicate the Marabous, they were purely a product of their environment, and this scabrous environment totally supported them. The best you could hope for was to perhaps force them into a temporary migration. Nonetheless, I was happy to let both Dawson, and my guide Sandy, believe that the eradication of the leader was an appropriate strategy for ridding the Emerald Forest of the Marabou Stork.
For me it was personal. There was only one Stork I wanted, one of those beasts which had to die. I sipped some cool water from my canteen. My lips had dried in the heat. I removed a tube of Vaseline from my coat pocket to apply to them, just as Sandy emerged naked from the river, where he had been taking a dip to gain respite from the omnipresent heat.
He looked at me tensely, then glanced around at the deserted wilderness. There was nothing and nobody about for miles. He rolled his eyes naw he
– One could think of other uses for that, Roy, he smirked – – – – – – – – naw didnae roll
his eyes
Sandy and I
urnae like that it wis jist mates muckin aboot– – – –DEEPER
DEEPER
DEEPER– – – he quickly got into his clothes.
Sandy and I were well-kitted out for the task at hand. Tooled up with rifles, shotguns, explosives and carrying absolute stacks of provisions: jam, English Breakfast Tea, tins of beans, soup, desserts, all that sort of stuff. Stuff that doesn't go off in this confounded heat.
I did, however, notice some reticence on Sandy's part concerning what on the surface seemed to be a fairly straightforward task.
— What's your opinion of Johnny Stork, Sandy old man? I asked him.
— They are evil incarnate, Roy. They have to be stamped out for the good of the game, Sandy replied, ashen-faced.
— You don't have any concerns about us not being up to the task do you, Sandy? I enquired.
up – – – – time will tell.
— Time will tell, he said up grimly, time will tell. – – – –
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