Beam Weavers, and puppeteers | Chapter eight, Ep #012

Welcome to Chapter eight, and ep. #012 of the book, the sword, the word and books of rules, a story by E Lloyd Kelly, this chapter is called: Beam Weavers and puppeteers  

Here is today's episode, enjoy.

Chapter eight: Beam Weavers, and puppeteers

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Those were the good old days, they were living fair, and sitting in their swivel chairs, that would have been the order of the day over there, but as for him, he was not to be there, even though he was, in fact, a square.

There was a situation rare where he would sit atop the mountains up there, up on top of the world, and not even seeing a girl that would, or could love him good like she should, …oh no, that’s not good. Yeah! I know, I know.

But, he would have stared with his Bungy eyes cleared, as he did look out and over the whole earth fair.

And there he would have seen things and what might be their worth, and in seeing he was to see also, almost everything that there was to be seen, he would have seen it and even greater seeing yet there was to be, and of the things to get, as there was much more out there and over the other “there, yet.”

Yeah! That side of the green pastures rare, there were much to be seen, and if he didn’t see them yet, he knew that he would have come to see them later, you bet. Or he would go out to see them if and when he can.

And then, he would have gone out and about, manipulating things with his long eye-reach and very powerful arm strings, and soon, everything would have been taken and gone away from them, like, from every other man round-about, and be gone to him, and to feed their mouths.

And gone were they also, to the other them, like, to the squares and to their kings, as it was just about to become the regular happenings. Although that was not his plan in the beginning.

He did not include anybody but his Bungy in his scheming, yeah, that would have been him and him only. No one else was pictured in on his pony, nor in his planning session reasoning –Tony, but then came the intermission when.            Sponsored by your Airbnb host

Out of the hiding place there in his stalls. Like, in the stalls up there on the square where for a million years came the lusting calls.

They would have started the call up there you know, and then came the tumbling downhill fall flow. Which was to eventually have them squabbling among themselves over tiny things small.

Loud and forceful came the whoring call.

Came it not at them, bursting out from under the rug’s sprawl, and as loud as the stink of a thousand mothballs?

And the rest of the earth and the Hugh man’s all, the whole of Earth’s habitations worth, was about to fall and to feel the greed under his right left-handed need.

Upon his coming in, he would have been bearing heavy duty beaten steel, metals of mass destruction deal, dealing it down upon them, each and every one.

He was never to be alone though, it was him along with the Bungy one flow, it wasn’t just them either who was in on the meager, like, on the plan. They were to have had all of the blessings of the squared ones, those in the whole chains of command, even.

And after they were done with beating up on the rest of them, those who were near to them and were even found to be akin to their blooded squared-hue vein.

They had managed to have gotten away that far. Aided along by the weight of Kingsley’s weaponized bars used as the tools of liberating fools.

But that would have been after the siren had sounded the alarm, outing the Bungy and all of his ambitious qualms and carryings-on, as well as his greed and eccentric charms.

Kingsley would have wanted in on all of the hauls, as it was to be happening, and as it would pertain to the conquering calls, and the exploits, and winning the world of all of its might, and all other such the likes.

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So, the word would have gotten out of someone and would have hopped in into the hearing aid of Kingsley king's commands, and he would have sent for him, to come to them, and to meet up with them to plan, to fine-tune and to make the mission strong, for everyone, and for their benefits. All of them part-taking in all of it.

That was it, Bungy couldn't quit, or could he? Well, whatever there be or may yet come to be, it was to be the beginning of the end for all of them, and of the other men.

Like, those who weren't with them, even those of the neighborly den, yeah, they as well as all of the circulars men, must come to an end. Their endings had begun right there and then.

They would have gone out on the road again. The high seas were to walk the board with them, and with heavy load bearing down on them, my friend. And they would have been wielding the swords.

Destroyed were the many who would have come up upon any, anyone of them on the journey of those globetrotting men, those roaming, wondering, thieving squares.

And gone were all of the precious corn and the most valuable ears, no longer feeding the hares, but gone, from here, and there, and from everywhere else, to all of those squares over there, and to prop up all of their shelves, and piling up the gears on the Tupperware’s.

At each of those destructions, the many culling events and other fan customs he meant. Squares would have purposed to leave at least one, just one of them alive as it was to cross their eyes.

If only to go tell the other tribes around and about, driving the fear of the gods of squares freely, the god of squared king really, driving it into them, into all of them.

And that would have come to be passing through the thoughts of his heartstrings breaking and aching him because. If they will just go away and die of the fear, or vise-versa, die of the fear firster and then go away later, then, that would have been greater for those crop taker, half of the squares' work would have been done safer.

Sparing him out at a lot of –not. You know! Like, not having to do any of that for himself, and by himself, and not having to have to waste precious resources on those wasted waste peopled reclusives, but.

A mangy dog they say is better than a dead lion right away, and that is the better option for them on any given day.

Every Lar too, being a person of war Sue, small and insignificant though those wars might have been in the grand and ultimate scheme of worldly things to do. Lars knew such things.

These Lars and squares were to become friends here because, they were to join together to beat back the Kingsley bunch, they were to meet over lunch, and that was where the inter-marrying came into effect too, upon the joyful bites of the crispy crunch, and upon the drinking of the warm steamy brew.

So, by the time Kingsley would have gotten to them to do them in, in like manner as they did to square friends, every one of those escaped Lars survivors would have purposed to stay aliver. …yeah! I hear you again, this too you say, is wrong my friend, but, is it? Let’s carry on.

All of that was done peradventure there should come a way someday thereafter, a day when and where Lars, just like squares, would also have their fun time in the sunbaker. Sacking them down, like, way down under the ground.

But, will that day ever come? And what will be the ultimate outcome? Leave it up to none, I mean, to none of them, those numb scums, but leave it all up to the readers and writers, and the righters of wrongs, leave it up to such to decide thereupon, probably. 

To be continued with, Ch. 9. Be on the lookout for Ep. #013. Don't forget to subscribe to this website to be notified on posts and updates. and also, subscribe to the youtube channel, like and share it too, the youtube channel is at, iis4inkytv. look for vids such as this, thank you.   Go get the elk's books and others on my Amazon bookshelf.  

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