Mr BooHoo is a character with miserable linear adventures, so you'ld better start from chapter one if it is your first time here. Go!Go!Go!
Chapter !( (19): The smell of blood in springtime
Mr BooHoo was no big fun of religions but it was Easter and some customs were, well, interesting. For example he enjoyed the Holly Friday night, when people got out on the street and followed a box decorated with fragrant flowers, holding yellowy candles and the local band plays a lovely, crooning tune. And the following day their Lord and Saviour rises from the grave and they celebrate it at midnight at church-yards. And they light their candles, that are colourful and fancy, with a fire that never goes out in the Holly grave or another place of that sort. So, Mr BooHoo felt that on a night like this, when you have absolutely nothing better to do you might as well go mingle with the locals and observe their odd, pagan habits adjusted to the new religion (if one can claim that a 2000 year old religion in new).
There he was, little mr BooHoo, at the church yard feeling oddly alone, candle in hand, observing. It was a strange thing that he saw. A shit-load of people trying to carry the flame at their houses, the female of the species on extreme high-heals, through miniature explosions caused by irresponsible adults that gave children small amounts of dynamite. Then they would all go home and start an after midnight meat-fest. This would continue the following day, and the one after that because they always cooked way to much food so they ate left-overs for the rest of the week and maybe even more.
Mr BooHoo had a very frightening memory from his childhood, of the Easter period. His grandfather would buy a very large animal, enough to feed for a week or so all of his kids and some of their husbands, wives and children, because Mr BooHoo's dad had three siblings, all married or engaged to be married. That animal cadaver (it was lamb most of the times) was hanging from the ceiling inside the living room, covered with a heavy shroud to protect it from flies and other minimal flying predators. It was particularly creepy, dead, covered and smelling of blood. Hidden under the off-white sheets could be anything. Images of zomby-sheep haunted him. Not only that but it seemed kind of fair to get consumed by your food. This year there would not be a whole carcass of an animal but smaller portions had the exact same stench of blood.
Thank goodness for booze, and it was one of these days when one was allowed to start drinking at noon. This is exactly how Mr BooHoo hoped to survive that hideous day, the day that made him think that perhaps vegetarianism was not such a bad idea. But then again, there was bacon, a serious argument against the latter eating habit.
Let the spring-fests begin.
Chapter !( (19): The smell of blood in springtime
Mr BooHoo was no big fun of religions but it was Easter and some customs were, well, interesting. For example he enjoyed the Holly Friday night, when people got out on the street and followed a box decorated with fragrant flowers, holding yellowy candles and the local band plays a lovely, crooning tune. And the following day their Lord and Saviour rises from the grave and they celebrate it at midnight at church-yards. And they light their candles, that are colourful and fancy, with a fire that never goes out in the Holly grave or another place of that sort. So, Mr BooHoo felt that on a night like this, when you have absolutely nothing better to do you might as well go mingle with the locals and observe their odd, pagan habits adjusted to the new religion (if one can claim that a 2000 year old religion in new).
There he was, little mr BooHoo, at the church yard feeling oddly alone, candle in hand, observing. It was a strange thing that he saw. A shit-load of people trying to carry the flame at their houses, the female of the species on extreme high-heals, through miniature explosions caused by irresponsible adults that gave children small amounts of dynamite. Then they would all go home and start an after midnight meat-fest. This would continue the following day, and the one after that because they always cooked way to much food so they ate left-overs for the rest of the week and maybe even more.
Mr BooHoo had a very frightening memory from his childhood, of the Easter period. His grandfather would buy a very large animal, enough to feed for a week or so all of his kids and some of their husbands, wives and children, because Mr BooHoo's dad had three siblings, all married or engaged to be married. That animal cadaver (it was lamb most of the times) was hanging from the ceiling inside the living room, covered with a heavy shroud to protect it from flies and other minimal flying predators. It was particularly creepy, dead, covered and smelling of blood. Hidden under the off-white sheets could be anything. Images of zomby-sheep haunted him. Not only that but it seemed kind of fair to get consumed by your food. This year there would not be a whole carcass of an animal but smaller portions had the exact same stench of blood.
Thank goodness for booze, and it was one of these days when one was allowed to start drinking at noon. This is exactly how Mr BooHoo hoped to survive that hideous day, the day that made him think that perhaps vegetarianism was not such a bad idea. But then again, there was bacon, a serious argument against the latter eating habit.
Let the spring-fests begin.
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