Wednesday, June 17, 2009

the horrible tale of mr. crenshaw diggles


mr. diggles, originally uploaded by nervousonion.

the sixth child and third boy born into a family of arkansas dirt farmers, the sight of his disfigured soul immediately horrified his heartbroken parents. when raised to the tearing eyes of his mother, mrs. eunice blowfeather-diggles of ringworm, kentucky she screamed and shunned the lord that has gifted her such a vulgar beast. "THAT....DEMON...is no child of MINE, rupert. i WILL NOT RAISE IT!" she shrilled, "let the GOD that created this disgrace of a child care for him, for i shall not."

"yes, eun." gulped rupert, "i...i. understand." although he was saying the words mostly to comfort his dear wife. he knew that it was in the best interest of the family to abandon poor crenshaw, for he would never be able to work the plow, and the diggles family could simply not care for a child not fit to labor.

that night, rupert caldwell diggles swaddled his sixth child and third boy in a burlap sack and delivered him to the front door of the local church, with a note that read "HEZ YER PROBLUM NOW, GOD. AND HIS NAME IS CRENSHAW" before he scuttled away, he leaned over his now orphaned child and pulled a antler-handled jackknife from his pocket. "boy," he said "this knife belonged to my paw, stuart earl diggles. he gave it to me on the day i became a man. i know you is only a few hours old, but chu gonna need this more than i EVER will. this is the only thing you will get from me. use it as you see fit."

years later, while jumping a train car belonging to the "hambersmash traveling circus and freak extravaganza", crenshaw diggles would use that knife as he saw fit. for when he jumped aboard that car, he had rudely interrupted the passionate embrace of molly puppert - the goateed gal, and peppers laroux - the third assistant to the head dayshift clown. in the ensuing melee, peppers laroux succumbed to multiple stab wounds to the chest, neck, and head. heartbroken by the murder of her beloved, ms. puppert leapt from the train into the rocky river bed which awaited her hundreds of feet below the bridge.

in need of a new clown to fill the position vacated by the newly promoted fourth assistant to the head dayshift clown, crenshaw diggles became a member of the great greasepainted brotherhood.

somewhere in the knee deep grass of an abandoned train yard, scrawled on the dry rotted planks of freight car, can be read the words "i, the disfigured child of god, killed a man tonite with the same knife i used to scrawl this here confession. i did not kill his hairy woman. she jumped to her death upon his demise. i will not pay for this in hell. i have been punished enough here on earth. signed, C.D."

4 comments:

olisa said...

I love this story! Ah, the depths of misery endured by our poor creations... brilliant!

WeeofManyColors said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
WeeofManyColors said...

This is amazing! Did you have the story in mind before he was sewn or did you come up with it after? You are really a gifted writer and artist.

nervousonion said...

thanks! :)

i didn't have the story in mind before i made him, but it came to me as i was finishing him. i like to creat a little back story for my creatures. i live vicariously thru them.

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