My Sister's Legacy, The House-Mouse Cock: The Adventures of Sex Ableton

My dad recently returned from South Africa. One of my cousins had killed herself and he was there to help bury her. To sooth and console. My dad's our family patriarch. If we were elephants (we don't forget, come to think of it) he'd be the matriarch. Anyways, he brought back a trunk full of notebooks: the wild and frenzied ramblings of a mad-woman. My cousin, you see, spent the last two years of her life in a madhouse.

I jumped right in. Most of it's incoherent. Not English. Not any language at all as far as I can tell. But scattered through the piles and piles of scribblings (in no particular order at all) are some certain, strange fictions about this guy named "Sex Ableton."

I'm presenting these episodes (or chapters) in the order in which I've found them. My cousin, let me say, was a gentle, good woman. But, God knows! May she rest in peace.

Here then are the first three of the Sex Ableton Pieces (I'll write some more up when I get a chance):


1) The House-Mouse Cock - Buttocks - Crushed Balls - Greatest

Sex's cock was the size of a house-mouse's but, as we all know, his testicles were of a normal size. Larger even. Terribly large. So large in fact that in order to copulate Sex had to tie his balls back up against his buttocks. This meant no girl-on-top. Absolutely no girl-on-top.

But, one day after a rousing bout with Tequila and dancing (sultry-dank salsa dancing) our loving pair attacked attacked each other on a stone sidewalk. Red* ended up on top, enjoying the minute but lively and inspired house-mouse cock. And Sex's balls were crushed. But this story's got a happy ending. Sex loved it. Went bananas and came, finally, in torrents.

His balls were in pieces. They picked them up. Went home and glued them back together. It was the greatest day of their lives.

* note: Red, who features prominently in these "Adventures," is Red Young Whore.



2) Pubic Public - Brochures - Blushing - Savage Groups

Sex worked at the Public Pubic Standards and Deviations Information Center (PPSDIC) where he had to deal with the public and all their questions and leaf through the brochures with them. Brochures filled with male and female genitals. Of all varieties.

And every time he works with a woman he wonders if she's thinking "this one's a house-mouse cock for sure!" And every time he flips to the pages featuring the characteristics and behaviors and variations and peccadillos and diet and musical tastes and exercise regimens and big flat glossy close-up shots of the House-Mouse Cock he blushes and knows he's betrayed completely. She looks calm, he thinks, a bit shy, perhaps, but inside she is laughing. Laughing uncontrollably. O, poor Sex!

And passing women on the street he knows why they smile and giggle and point and why they gather into savage leering groups:

Behold the House-Mouse Cock ! The House-Mouse Cock !


3) Consultancy - Compatibility - Infinite Blue

The Small House-Mouse Consultancy Co takes off. It goes public. Who knew! Franchises pop up everywhere. Like a rash. Who knew! And haters thumb their noses. And spit on Sex's tiny shoes.

Thousands of House-Mouse cock effigies are burned. The police do nothing. They sit on their hands and grin. The House-Mouse cock community's in mourning. It sags and sighs. And Sex sits in the middle of it sobbing.

But it heals: stronger and stiffer than ever! And with a huge spending appetite. The Small House-Mouse Consultancy Co surges and surges and surges. Even the haters and the burners secretly buy up stock. There's no stopping The Small House-Mouse Consultancy Co.

And Sex becomes filthy rich. Hundreds of private jets. Thousands of houses. Dozens of islands. A couple of galaxies. A taxi company in Arizon. Donut shops. "Mama Rosa" cell-phone cards. Light-bulbs. Crowbar factories. Flu-serums. But it's not enough. Sex is lonely. Needs a mate. A "pareja," as they say.

And, so, women wanting to be compatible flood in to their doctors and have their vaginas closed up to the breadth suitable for a House-Mouse Cock. Little do they know that just like the ocean's ecstatic little fishes, frolicking in its seemingly infinite blue, Sex adores a nice big cunt.

And, so, these women, snobbed, rush back to their doctors and demand to be widened, and widened, and widened and ever-widened into so many gaping seas in search of Sex's fame and fortune and cheap-jewelry and sundry accessories.

Some cunts beach up wider than their waists. Wider than an elephant's waist! Wider than a blue whale's waist! Wider than the waist of a black-hole's pull (it's huge wide suck)!

Sex revels in these new wet-starry and sometimes unstable universes.