Tuesday, March 20, 2012

Bathroom Monologue: One-Armed Immortal

I am the bastard you’ve been looking for. I’m the one-armed man, and I have six fingers on this one remaining hand. I’ve left many wives without husbands, sons without fathers, and daughters with surprises they won’t want to explain in polite settings. If you’ve come into this carnival for vengeance, I can assure you I’m the villain you want to slay. Even if I didn’t do what so outraged you, I’m guilty enough.

I’ve a crippled soul. Fossilized. Means the flesh won’t get any older, and if you ask Kitty, the spirit won’t get any more mature. I can’t die, save by five means. Until death, it means I’ve got what I’ve got and nothing more. No surgery can fix my busted arm. I’ll have to make do with righty, but I’m damn good with it. I can fence any two-handed man, or wield a scimitar, or throw a javelin. And the recreational things I can do with this one hand! Haha, just ask Kitty.

She’s glaring at me, but she’s charmed. Don’t worry yourself. You grow to enjoy her claws eventually.

The witch said only five things can kill me. I’ve figured out three of them, not that I’m sharing the list with you. Some things you want to keep to yourself. But the other two? They’re a surprise. Or, I guess, one will be a surprise and the other will be an eternal mystery. I know for certain that I can’t bleed out and I’ll never starve to death at sea. Some bedroom adventures leave me supposing I’m immune to asphyxia. I can’t die by the sword, but that’s no magic – that’s talent.

How do you get a fossilized soul? It’s gorgonic. A little more than a gorgon looking at you; she has to give you a specific look. I excel at getting women to give me certain looks. Again, just ask Kitty.

I liked her look so much that I kept that old hag’s head. It’s in this bag as a last resort. Lot of scum try to stick up a one-armed men, thinking he’s helpless on his own, or helpless because he’s got his trousers down in a brothel. You know, life. I let ‘em rifle through my things, open the bag, look inside, and the brothel gets a statue for the yard. I feel keeping her head is fair, given that she kept my arm.


  1. This wasn't a "Possible Origins," but there's a lot of the flavor. Love it!

  2. He sounds like a scumbag and yet...there's something charming about his sheer confidence and irreverance.

    Enjoyed this one. Feels like its part of a bigger picture.

  3. Oh he is charming. And that's the most dreadful part.

    You do these so well, John.


Counter est. March 2, 2008