Wednesday, December 22, 2010



Cameras saw the inflating head as a possible sign of more human expectorations in the living room of Vladimir Putin. ‘I’m so happy,’ shouted the guest, which was actually part of a long rant by Houdini in his natural environment when given a grease gun – but everyone knows him as a stickler for improvisation, hence the head.

His host had driven cork screws through Houdini’s wrists into the wooden armchair’s armrests. ‘What are you doing?’ ‘I’m deconstructing the Dougie. Dry heaving helps.’ ‘I see it’s very handsome,’ the uncomfortable-looking dictator says, looking uncomfortable.

The dwarf groove is a vomitous dance which one can vomit up at a whim, and it takes no skill. ‘This is what I do when I feel uncomfortable,’ Putin says commencing, in his golden chair, to vomit in front of the cameras and a whole nation which saw itself, in response, falling from a plane tip to toe like a garish kamikaze ad banner.

‘Niccccccce. You should teach me that someday.’ Houdini spews the contents of his brains into the spiral holes in his wrists, then wrests himself free with that old familiar grunt, the one that says: the canonization of sweet potatoes was the most unintentionally hilarious moment in the history of all of sainthood.

‘Irreconcilable Honda,’ said Putin after a guard interrupted the interview to present him with a large package. It was clear that he was busy unwrapping an African White Rhino.

‘Disintegration, Mr Houdini. Right before my very eyes. Don’t you dare?’ he said before bringing his attention back to his guest, who was sitting there grinning.

--Tyson Bley was born in 1978 in South Africa and at the age of 30 moved to Germany, where he continues to live semi-reclusively with a malignant Internet addiction. His work has appeared in MyFavoriteBullet, Blazevox, Poets Of The East Village, Clutching At Straws, Disenthralled, and print journals like Smash Cake and Kerouac's Dog. His personal blog is located at

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