Original Work: An occurrence on StandartenStraße
Title: An occurrence on StandartenStraße
Author: woodra
Rating: R-ish for, uh, gore.
Disclaimer: Mine. All fucking mine.
The two were walking down the StandartenStraße, lost in thoughts, dressed in all black with dark khaki overtones. The sky was sullen and the air, the air was congealed, imagine. It was a dreary day indeed. I can account to the coldness of the weather that managed to cover the dark branches of trees with a thin crust of rime. Oh how dreary that day was.
The two, one taller than the other, kept on walking, not paying attention to bright window displays of sweetshops and book stores, fashion boutiques and restaurants. Granted, there weren't many of them on StandartenStraße. To be completely correct, there was only one sweetshop and one shabby-looking snack bar. The pretentious bright red signboard with "BoOkShoPpe" written in yellow ink somehow looked out of place on StandartenStraße. Perhaps it was the lack of other bright colours on that street, or maybe the chipped paint of the signboard itself. Nevermind the questioning - the board along with the store itself did not belong to StandartenStraße.
The two, on the other hand, seemed to be an organic part of the street. Their dark coloured clothing alongside their dark-haired heads and black leather trainers almost begged to not be noticed on StandartenStraße, full of dark coloured buildings, dark-haired inhabitants, who wore black leather trainers. Nevertheless, they did stand out. Their gait was purposefully relaxed, while the calaber on their hoods created a shimmering aura of nonchalance. Hands in pockets, they were the finest specimens of insouciance I have ever met on StandartenStraße. 'Please, please, do not stop,' I begged in my mind, following after them assiduously. There really was no reason in my doing so, except that I had nothing better to do than waste my torpid time on those two creatures. At least they did not spit on the ground, expressing their dismay and contempt for the world, which gave out a high class nurturing in them.
The two seemed to have stopped, while I was lost in thought, considering I suddenly found myself significantly closer to them than I used to be before. They stood in the middle of the alley, discussing something loudly. I leaned against the railing of the staircase that led to one of the apartment doors on the repetitively grey building, pretending I was waiting for a familiar of mine to come out, so we could go and spend our time at the local "Spec-Ta-Cul-Ar" cinema, watching the newest installation of peccant "Maximum Velocity In Martian Conditions VI". The time seemed to have stopped - even the strange chirping of a red-hooded robin was not heard anymore. Only the strange conversation I was straining my ears to eavesdrop on.
The two, apparently, were very close friends. Or brothers. Or lovers. "I'm saying, they have these little metal sheets with elliptical hollows in them, you following?" one of them asked. I couldn't make out whether he was the taller one or not, from the rear point I was sitting at it was hard to tell. "Your point being?" the other one asked. He had a pleasant voice, slightly lower than a tenor, coldish and arrogant. "So I reckon they pour in the peanuts into those hollows - a peanut per hollow - and then imbue the hollows with chocolate," the hypothetically taller one answered. His voice was lower and slightly more histrionic, as if though he had just graduated from the Swedish Royal Academy of Dramatic Art. "That's self-evident," the tenor remarked. "You think it's so easy, eh?" the actor said, "The real mystery is how they stamp the ready chocolate ellipses with white letters." At this one the tenor seemed to hesitate for several seconds before perking up. "My dear, that is self-evident too - those metal sheets with elliptical hollows filled with peanuts and imbued with chocolate are then dipped into giant cauldrons with boiling sucrose - et voila!" I think he flashed a smug smirk at the actor while finishing his sentence, because the hypothetically taller one instantly moved closer, chest thrown up aggressively. "And? I see no point in that little explanation of yours, genius," he said, trying to loom over the other, and that is when I saw he was, indeed, the taller of the two friends. Or brothers. Or lovers. His efforts were to no avail, however, since the height difference between them was minimal. "Tsk, do make your brain cells work, darling, isn't it self-evident?" the tenor mocked the other one with obvious relish. It was clear then that he was the dominant person in that strange relationship. He was in the glorious possession of secret for dominance - the tenor knew how to get under the other's skin. "Those metal sheets with hollows have special carvings in the form of 'M'," he continued in a drawling tone, "Which can be cleaved open at the single push of the button by some production engineer, you see what I am getting at?" the tenor asked pointedly, obviously arching his obviously elegant eyebrow at the actor, who seemed to have grasped the implications, as he was obvoiusly bubbling with joy. "Of course, you're a genius, Duke! The metal sheets with hollows filled with peanuts and imbued with chocolate are dipped into giant cauldrons with boiling sucrose while their carvings are cleaved open - et voila! I reckon they are quickly withdrawn after that and sent into a drying room, after which follows the packing conveyor, and we have a ready package of "M&Ms". How clever!" the actor seemed to have entered a pathetic mode with slight overtones of clownery and clearly comic relief nuances. "Self-evident, I told you," Duke said before starting to move. "Oh shut it," the actor bursted out laughing, punching Duke in the shoulder.
The two were brothers, after all.
I stayed where I was, transfixed with a strange feeling of enlightenment. 'So that's how they make "M&Ms"!' was all I could think about. I stared at the sullen sky, wishing of something inexorable to descend upon me, to make me stand up and walk back, but the image of those perky chocolate ellipses refused to leave me. I suddenly realized I was craving a package of those. Or better yet - two. Unable to resist the urge, I ran back towards the sweetshop and ordered three "M&Ms" packages. I only remember my eyes threatening to bulge out in murderous rage when I heard that the sweetshop did not specialize in producing or selling "M&Ms". One other thing I remember before blacking out is my bloodied hand that gripped the salesgirl's dark-auburn hair.
Author: woodra
Rating: R-ish for, uh, gore.
Disclaimer: Mine. All fucking mine.
The two were walking down the StandartenStraße, lost in thoughts, dressed in all black with dark khaki overtones. The sky was sullen and the air, the air was congealed, imagine. It was a dreary day indeed. I can account to the coldness of the weather that managed to cover the dark branches of trees with a thin crust of rime. Oh how dreary that day was.
The two, one taller than the other, kept on walking, not paying attention to bright window displays of sweetshops and book stores, fashion boutiques and restaurants. Granted, there weren't many of them on StandartenStraße. To be completely correct, there was only one sweetshop and one shabby-looking snack bar. The pretentious bright red signboard with "BoOkShoPpe" written in yellow ink somehow looked out of place on StandartenStraße. Perhaps it was the lack of other bright colours on that street, or maybe the chipped paint of the signboard itself. Nevermind the questioning - the board along with the store itself did not belong to StandartenStraße.
The two, on the other hand, seemed to be an organic part of the street. Their dark coloured clothing alongside their dark-haired heads and black leather trainers almost begged to not be noticed on StandartenStraße, full of dark coloured buildings, dark-haired inhabitants, who wore black leather trainers. Nevertheless, they did stand out. Their gait was purposefully relaxed, while the calaber on their hoods created a shimmering aura of nonchalance. Hands in pockets, they were the finest specimens of insouciance I have ever met on StandartenStraße. 'Please, please, do not stop,' I begged in my mind, following after them assiduously. There really was no reason in my doing so, except that I had nothing better to do than waste my torpid time on those two creatures. At least they did not spit on the ground, expressing their dismay and contempt for the world, which gave out a high class nurturing in them.
The two seemed to have stopped, while I was lost in thought, considering I suddenly found myself significantly closer to them than I used to be before. They stood in the middle of the alley, discussing something loudly. I leaned against the railing of the staircase that led to one of the apartment doors on the repetitively grey building, pretending I was waiting for a familiar of mine to come out, so we could go and spend our time at the local "Spec-Ta-Cul-Ar" cinema, watching the newest installation of peccant "Maximum Velocity In Martian Conditions VI". The time seemed to have stopped - even the strange chirping of a red-hooded robin was not heard anymore. Only the strange conversation I was straining my ears to eavesdrop on.
The two, apparently, were very close friends. Or brothers. Or lovers. "I'm saying, they have these little metal sheets with elliptical hollows in them, you following?" one of them asked. I couldn't make out whether he was the taller one or not, from the rear point I was sitting at it was hard to tell. "Your point being?" the other one asked. He had a pleasant voice, slightly lower than a tenor, coldish and arrogant. "So I reckon they pour in the peanuts into those hollows - a peanut per hollow - and then imbue the hollows with chocolate," the hypothetically taller one answered. His voice was lower and slightly more histrionic, as if though he had just graduated from the Swedish Royal Academy of Dramatic Art. "That's self-evident," the tenor remarked. "You think it's so easy, eh?" the actor said, "The real mystery is how they stamp the ready chocolate ellipses with white letters." At this one the tenor seemed to hesitate for several seconds before perking up. "My dear, that is self-evident too - those metal sheets with elliptical hollows filled with peanuts and imbued with chocolate are then dipped into giant cauldrons with boiling sucrose - et voila!" I think he flashed a smug smirk at the actor while finishing his sentence, because the hypothetically taller one instantly moved closer, chest thrown up aggressively. "And? I see no point in that little explanation of yours, genius," he said, trying to loom over the other, and that is when I saw he was, indeed, the taller of the two friends. Or brothers. Or lovers. His efforts were to no avail, however, since the height difference between them was minimal. "Tsk, do make your brain cells work, darling, isn't it self-evident?" the tenor mocked the other one with obvious relish. It was clear then that he was the dominant person in that strange relationship. He was in the glorious possession of secret for dominance - the tenor knew how to get under the other's skin. "Those metal sheets with hollows have special carvings in the form of 'M'," he continued in a drawling tone, "Which can be cleaved open at the single push of the button by some production engineer, you see what I am getting at?" the tenor asked pointedly, obviously arching his obviously elegant eyebrow at the actor, who seemed to have grasped the implications, as he was obvoiusly bubbling with joy. "Of course, you're a genius, Duke! The metal sheets with hollows filled with peanuts and imbued with chocolate are dipped into giant cauldrons with boiling sucrose while their carvings are cleaved open - et voila! I reckon they are quickly withdrawn after that and sent into a drying room, after which follows the packing conveyor, and we have a ready package of "M&Ms". How clever!" the actor seemed to have entered a pathetic mode with slight overtones of clownery and clearly comic relief nuances. "Self-evident, I told you," Duke said before starting to move. "Oh shut it," the actor bursted out laughing, punching Duke in the shoulder.
The two were brothers, after all.
I stayed where I was, transfixed with a strange feeling of enlightenment. 'So that's how they make "M&Ms"!' was all I could think about. I stared at the sullen sky, wishing of something inexorable to descend upon me, to make me stand up and walk back, but the image of those perky chocolate ellipses refused to leave me. I suddenly realized I was craving a package of those. Or better yet - two. Unable to resist the urge, I ran back towards the sweetshop and ordered three "M&Ms" packages. I only remember my eyes threatening to bulge out in murderous rage when I heard that the sweetshop did not specialize in producing or selling "M&Ms". One other thing I remember before blacking out is my bloodied hand that gripped the salesgirl's dark-auburn hair.