B; the time monk; "I believe nothing ,for it is all the
loop of unreality, and we are of the dead twitchings
( choaks , ,grab a's hands and pulls off a finger; as
if it is made of chalk.). .that respond to that which

is fakely called real."
B pushes the bussinessman backwards and knees him

hard in the groin.
A;continues with gasps for air occasionally: So I see

that you are not impressed by my threats to kill you,
for I would be doing you a favour, death is as you be-

-lieve,the only escape, , well let me help you out:, . .

. .you lay-about."
A resumes his attack, using his breifcase as a battering

ram used at her head.

B;(between attacks);" If you believe that your actions
will get you out of your loop of time _you are mistaken
for . .they are simply... .the Amoebic impolses . .of

microbes attracted to electric light . "
B waves her hands in the air in mock Kunfu poses as
an orchestra that had been busking on the underground
begins to play a jarring heavy romantic ballad', rich si-

-ckly emotional syrup of sentamentality pours silient

from old string s.
While B gets up on the seat of the ox-cart and with

improved height starts to kick hard in the busslness-
mans face, after first taking out the briefcase hand ,
then speaks over the sickly music with now of the sen-

-tamentality that the music seems to demand, in a whin-

-ning way.

B; "Most kind sir, may I please bring to your attention

the images of endless and parralel Timezones that can
be seen progressing around us, they are you and your
kind trapped in the in-action loop that you are still a
part of, even if you dont realise it.for we cannot break
into reality through acts of meaningless violence, for
the spectical of violence makes unreal all acts."
A;( bleeding from the head, making a second violent

as suit, unbeturbed by the reaoning of the Timemonk. ;

" May I venture to disagree with you on that matter for
while yes I do detect a certain flicker of images and

half forgotten memories of past loop experiences in
which I am performing the same meaningless acts, but
these are not of me but of people who have not the will
nor detemlnatlon to make a go of it as I have this very
day, and thus from now will continue to do so.Could y-

-ou not say that my actions in this normally peacefull
need I say tedious train/ox cart/pony journey to work
have not broken the trap and if they have not then at
least I have had a good divertlon from the tedium of
traveling to work and now feel refreshed and inspired
to continue with my advertising campaign Job at least
in contact with reality, in fact I think I have an abso-

-lutiv mega-idea for the sale of "baked beanslntomatoe

-style juice that the sick and lazy consumer would
take to in a millisecond..."

At this point the music takes on a discord momentarily
and then a great peak of emotionalism that the timemonk
takes as a cue to extract her gun and blast the busslnes

-sRoman's head into a sickly pulp that before disappear

-ing into another Time reminds her of a thick Tomatoe
style juice in its self. .Her words before this act are;

" Thus I end your.character to dispel your sad ego,
for that which you believed to be real and reality is
in fact just a book that you have had a momentary place
in, all of this is a book, as eveh a Mattlock can see,
and as the reader knowe , may be returned to the libary
at any point before the end is reached, thus ending the
reality of these words for good. .for words can be erased
as fast as written. "

A plague of old biddies jossel for seats dry of blood,
survivors unfortunate, they swing their sticks in wide
circles at ankle height, in the bus,train, Ox cart they
take the seats nearest the front to fly scattered in ci-

-rcumstances of crash.They are Insects russling the-

-ir wings, nervous hand insects clutching dangerous
heads filled with fresh cut grass in boxes that are fl-

-ung open to allow insects flight out, only one eye
a giant fucker the size of a head, biddies at qu e front.