Introducing: A Twist in the Tale

A Twist in the Tale..Tail..

A Twist in the Tale..Tail..

Ashes float by my eyes as the wind whips at my hair and the acrid smell of smoke and death burns into my nostrils. The killing ground is quiet now; bodies litter the grass and puddles of blood lie splattered in every direction.
I move towards the desolate sound of a trumpet far in the distance. My tread is heavy; I’ve lost a lot of blood. From a wound on my head, blood threatens to run down my face. I want to wipe the blood out of my eyes, then I remember. My arm is gone.
I look down at the limb, for it is a mere limb now. I imagine I can detect faint twitches as though it is still alive. But it is not. The stump in my shoulder is still bleeding, though the pain is mostly gone now. But my right hand is dead. It looks funny just lying there on the blood-soaked grass still gripping the hilt of my beautiful sword Araéndule.
I toss the spear I have been leaning against to the ground, its tip still bright red with the blood of the foe who took my arm. Kneeling painfully, I release my sword from the death grip of my lifeless arm.

Gripping it tightly in my left hand, I step forward. I stagger slightly but I regain my balance on time. The gods kept me for a reason, I will not die. I have to live. I take another step and somewhere in the distance I hear the sounds of thundering hooves. My heart beats faster, adrenaline surges through my veins, and I whirl in a perfect roundabout twirl, my robes flapping all about me, sword hand at the ready…

And the Director yells, “CUT! Roll tape. It’s a wrap people. Somebody get that prosthetic and please switch on the lights and cue out that ‘hoof’ theme. Nice job people..”

_________________________________
Yup! The warrior was an actor, and yeah, it was a movie..

For your reading pleasure, All in this life’s journey presents, A Twist in the Tale.

If you’ve read, the Jeffrey Archer collection of short stories, you’ll have an idea what’s about to happen. But for the rest I’ll spell it out. Starting 20th May, you dear reader, will be thrilled by different writers to different stories and poems from every genre, with only one underlying factor: each will have within it, the most unexpected twist.

No? Well..lemme introduce the writers and maybe you’ll understand what I’m talking about..

In no particular order, and with each throwing various gang signs, kido sigils and Illuminati symbols, make welcome:

@Teleolaonifade
@weird_oo
@Haemlet_
@jon_the_zaptist
@naijamd
@Oluwawanababa
@Sagaysagay
@OWEx_
@Paetir

Two ladies, six men, one hemaphrodite.. Yes! Clap! Clap! Never before seen no? Aha..and yes, Nine is a magical number. -___-

It all begins on Monday, 20th May.

See posters and follow on Twitter @janus_aneni for details..

Peace.

A Woman’s bosom..

Shoe? Not skates..

Shoe? Not skates..

I usually don’t write poems. My artistic soul flies on wings too powerful to be clipped in iambics or tethered to structure. So anytime I write anything in cadence and meter, it’s usually a pseudo-rap or a limerick. This is one of those..

Enjoy.

A Woman’s bosom

To sail along borne on feathery wings, to skate upon brown hills;

To slid and glide down through hairy frills, to land pat on a button;

From the crest so shaped, a pinkish tear, down a neck of a slope,

To a valley so deep, with walls so sheer, and black tip right at the top.

Down the plain, the traveller moves so fast, around a shallow gorge,

And past that is a forest deep, with a swamp as wet as a sponge.

To fall in this bog, is a pleasure sweet, with a urge
for more of that form,

To understand this, is a knowledge secret, the mystery of a woman’s bosom.

________________________________
I hope we enjoyed that. No? Anyway, for more of my poems on this blog see Ghosts of Girlfriends past

Would cc Funke and co that helped with this post, but it might be improper.. (¬_¬)

Follow @Janus_aneni

Peace.

The Mess Theory

Hehe..this was based on an actual conversation. I drowned in paroxysms of laughter writing this and the hope is that same would happen to you.
I’m safe now, no longer drowning by the way.

Goodevening Ladies and Gentlemen, and welcome to another episode of World’s Greatest Mysteries. I’m your host, Mr Aljanusi AKA Janus AKA Chris the Corper AKA Doctor AKA Biology Teacher AKA Uncle AKA Mr-Too-Gbasky-Swagged-Out-Above-Everybody-Apart-From-Tunechi-But-Including-Durella-Trey-Songz-And-Tywin-Lannister. Today, we’ll be talking about one of the most famous mysteries in the modern world.
No, it is not the question of who really stole the meat from the cooking pot, or what’s under GEJ’s hat, we know those already. Today we shall discuss…*drum roll and theme song from Aboki rmx*
WHO MESS AM?

*crowd applause*
Our guest on the show today, is none other than our friend and loyal fan of this blog, Mr H., G-man, Philosopher, Postulator of the Pseudo-HIV theory. Mr H. say hi.

Mr H.: Hi.*picks nose*

Janus: Now, I’m sure this is not the first time most of us have been confronted with this question. Most of us have heard this question asked quite a lot in our formative years, and when we were kids. Often time, the answers have not always been favourable and on other occasions, they have brought us quite a bit of pain and malodorous discomfort. The question of who messed am has troubled for ages, but today, we have a solution,

*crowd applause*

DJ, please..

“Who mess am?”
“Na Odo!
Odo say, na Teacher.
Teacher say, No worry, na my class people mess am..”

Okay. So today, we’ll be discussing and putting this conundrum to rest. The question of who messed it. Mr H?

Mr H.: Okay. Well, it’s not as though I mess oh..

Janus: Of course we know that, you’re only here for..

Mr H.: I know why I’m here. Let me talk..

Janus: Okay..

Mr H.: Now, from the song, I would like to identify the characters in this little mystery. First, we have the Teacher, then we have..

Janus: Odo

Mr H.: (¬_¬)

Janus: Sorry.

Mr H.: Yes, we have Odo, then we have the class pipo. However, there is one more player here who is almost always forgotten..

Janus: I know!

Mr H.: Yes?

Janus: Fabregas!

Mr H.: (¬_¬) idjit!

Janus: Sorry. (-_____-)

Mr H.: Whenever people sing that song, Odo is mentioned, and the Teacher, and he then accuses the class people. Everyone forgets that this song was gotten from the conversation of two different people.
First we have the One who asked; that first man who asked, “Who mess am?” (Everybody forgets that first man) and then, the rest of the song which goes, “Na Odo…” and so on, which is the reply! So we have basically, a song between two people, a song of reply and asker. Like the Song of Ice and Fire which was rebranded Game of Thrones in the TV series, the real name for the “Who mess am?” song is, “A Song of Reply and Asker!”

Janus: OMG!

*crowd Applause*

Janus: OMG! Wow..

Mr H.: *looks smug*

Janus: How did you..?

Mr H.: I put in research..

*crowd applause*

Janus: Brilliant! We’ll go now for a break and when we come back, we’ll examine the characters of each of the players.

ADVERT PLACEMENT
♬Any Terry G song ♬
Oh boy? You don hear?
Hear wetin?
You don hear about We-take-It-for-You Tutors?
Which one be dat one again na?
We-take-It-for-You Tutors is a subsidiary of the Premier College outreach. Have you been taking JAMB for years to no avail? Have your friends finished NYSC service while you’re still struggling with GCE? Hurry up and pick your forms now!
All you need to do is pay the money and we take it for you.
We-take-It-for-You Tutors…we take the exams, you can Never pass!

Janus: And we’re back. In case you just joined us, we have with us today, Mr H., legendary Theorist and we are discussing the question of Who Mess am? Mr H. you were saying that the entire song is based on a conversation between a Reply and an Asker?

Mr H.: You see, the Replier and the Asker were obviously two individuals who knew themselves. And from the indications, they also knew Odo, the Teacher and the class pipo.

Janus: So it’s safe to assume that the scenario which the Replier described in answer to the question could actually have occurred?

Mr H.: Of course! In fact, let me paint the scenario for you.
The person who asked the question, the Asker was a man…

Janus: A man? Why? Why not a woman?

Mr H.: Because only a man would have asked such a question with that much conviction. You have to understand that this is a Nigerian song, which has obvious Calabar origins based on the name “Odo” used in the song. And since it is an old song, and involved a period where there were schools in Calabar, we can safely put the time of origin of this song at about 1922-1929, a time unlike now when Women’s liberation is on the rise, a time when only a man could have spoken thus!

*standing ovation*

Mr H.: So as I was saying, in Calabar then, there was obviously a fart which had been of such malodorous content that the entire city had perhaps heard about it. It is my belief that if proper research is carried out, we’ll find ancient records of this fart. The fart that started it all.
So, on that day, the man, the Asker, asked a woman who it was that messed. “Who mess am?” Now, without hesitation, the woman who was obviously Yoruba, (they have the sharpest tongues), instantly replied that it was Odo!

Janus: She was convinced!

Mr H.: Yes! She was! But you see, this was not the first time that Odo had been accused!

Janus: Idonbilivit! Really?

Mr H.: Yes! You see, instantly she went on to narrate that “Odo say na Teacher..” which indicates that Odo was asked at an earlier time and had instantly gone ahead to accuse the Teacher. The Teacher was, apparently also asked and whoever the Teacher was, he accused his Class pipo. From the line, “Na my class pipo mess am”, you detect surety, certainty and a hint of malevolence towards the Class pipo.

Janus: Obviously, the Teacher had something against his class

Mr H.: Yes he did.

Janus: We’ll go for a break now and when we come back, we’ll take calls.

ADVERT PLACEMENT
♬May it be – Enya ♬
Are you sad? Did you just lose your job and give up on life? Was your Twitter account with over 5,000followers hacked and suspended? Are you from Burkina Faso? Tell us, has your BIS refused to connect or does MTN send you those annoying texts? Introducing, JAMES POISON. James Poison marketed and distributed by Dr Kizito marketing enterprises. The new ultra-powerful human killer in the market today. Take two tablets and watch your problems go away.
James Poison…kills your problems, kills you.
Available in stores near you.

Janus:That was from Dr Kizito enterprises. The drug is a powerful one. I have used it myself and it worked for me. In fact I still use it. You should try it.
Okay, we have a caller on the line..

@Mfkeed: So who messed?

Mr H.: The truth is, from the song, one would assume it was Odo. Since from all indications he was already a mess suspect. One may also assume it was the Class pipo, considering the certainty with which the Teacher spoke, the possibility that the class had probably farted in his presence before, which probably occasioned for his vexation with them, and the fact that they never denied it. But the truth is, the person who messed that fart was Odo’s wife.

Janus: O_O huh? Who??

Mr H.: Odo’s wife.
On that day, the first reason why people suspected Odo was because the odour of that mysterious fart came from his house! Odo was a man of few words, we can see that from his very sparse denial in the song. “Na teacher..” It was only his misfortune to be saddled with a shrewish wife whom he loved and protected. A wife who then went on to accuse him.

Janus: So Odo’s wife was..

Mr H.: Do not forget, this song is between two people. The Replier and the Asker.

Janus: …the Yoruba woman! A Yoruba woman messed the fart of History!

Mr H.: You said it.

Janus: So when asked who mess am? The answer should be “A Yoruba woman”?

Mr H.: -_____-

Janus: Wow.

*crowd applause..standing Ovation*

With us today has been one of the most enlightening young men I have ever met. Thank you for gracing us with your presence. We did plan to talk a bit about Pseudo-HIV today, but we’ll leave that for another day. Thank you sir! And from the rest of us here at All in this Life’s journey.., it’s goodbye and have a wonderful day.

*screen fades out*

Mr H.: *farts* Who did that??

DISCLAIMER
*
Err..I have nothing against the very honourable people of Cross River state or Yorubaland. The err..post just err..oh look, Airplane!
* You would also note that Mr H’s views are solely his and not the err..opinions of this blog.
* I don’t think it was Odo’s wife. The butler did it! -____-

PS: Odo’s birthday is today. You can find him on Facebook. He went to FGC Ijanikin.

Hehe..follow on Twitter @Janus_aneni..and you can follow Mr H. @Bitnovocaine..

Aha!

Peace.