FLASH FICTION:-- HORROR, SCI-FI, HUMOUR, CRIME, SLICE OF LIFE, ETC.

Friday, 8 February 2013

The final sale



It was an absolute treasure of a find. Copeland was on his way down the corridor to the morgue, hoping to make a purchase, as he approached the rubber doors they flapped open and a porter pushing a gurney came through.

“What's under the sheet?” Enquired Copeland.

“Aah, just rubbish.” Replied the porter. “A guy called Grantley Rugensmythe. Been run over by a truck, everything crushed or punctured from the neck down, nothing salvageable or saleable there. I'm on my way to disposal with him.”

At the sound of the name Copeland's heart rate increased dramatically, with a slightly trembling hand he lifted the sheet and looked at the face. He almost swooned when he saw who the cadaver was. Obviously the porter had no idea who he was about to incinerate, but Copeland did, oh he knew that face and name very well.

“Well, maybe I can make a few quid from the eyes, and I need a bit more practice on skulls, so I'll give you a tenner for it.” Said Copeland, trying to keep the greed out of his voice. The going rate for an intact body in good condition was usually around the three hundred mark, but this smashed up specimen wasn't even worth a tenner really, not in the porter's estimation anyway.

The deal was struck, the tenner changed hands and a receipt was written out. Copeland took possession of his booty, and went home.

* * * * * * * * * *

A few hours later, and Copeland was busy in his basement lab, whistling happily to himself as he worked.

He finished placing the scanner electrodes on Rugensmythe's skull then booted up the computer, the screen flickered into life displaying a three dimensional view of the brain.

Copeland adjusted the angles and zoom. Amongst all the pink, about an inch in from the right temple, sat a lentil-sized, purple blob.

Copeland smiled broadly. “You, my tiny friend, are going to make me, and probably someone else very rich.” Said Copeland to the screen.

Copeland's standard of living had taken a nosedive in recent months. When the sale of body parts and organs had first been legalised he had made a comfortable living out of it. The bodies were cheap to buy by today's comparison, and the items had brought in good money. But like everything else eventually too many people got in on the act, the cadaver prices had risen whilst the selling prices had fallen, too much supply and not enough demand. Even kidneys were going for less than fifty quid these days.

But what Copeland had here was a once in a lifetime opportunity, an absolute gem of a windfall.

He set the angle and depth of the drill with pinpoint accuracy on the universal adjuster, then watched the progress on the screen as the bit angled through the right ear, and bored directly toward the little purple blob, stopping a mere thousandth of a millimetre short.

Next the grabber-probe made the same journey, puncturing through the final membrane, and taking a gentle, but firm hold of the blob, which now began to twitch and writhe.

Copeland extracted the probe, and carefully released the tiny object, dropping it into a glass flask, then sealing the stopper tightly shut.

He lifted the flask to eye level and studied its occupant, which was actually a vivid red colour now it was exposed to the light.

The minute object threw itself at the glass, trying desperately to get to Copeland, driven by an all-consuming urge to find an ear to enter, a brain to inhabit. To perform the only reason for its existence.

Copeland smiled as he placed it on the shelf. “Have patience my little friend, you won't be in there for long.”

Copeland went to his laptop and punched up his MeBay page. A quick check showed no activity or bidding on any of his wares, no worries, he would no longer be needing them in a few days, this was probably going to be his final sale. What Copeland knew, that the porter did not, was that Grantley Rugensmythe was the real name of someone who was extremely famous under an assumed name.

Within a few minutes the MeBay insertion was complete, and the sale went live.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

MUSE FOR SALE.

This muse is extremely active and prolific,
and in first class condition.
It was formerly the resident muse
of the author of 78 best selling novels,
the great writer KEPHEN STING.

Absolutely guaranteed genuine article.
Paperwork to prove authenticity.

Starting bid. £100,000:00

Please enter bid of £100,000:00 or more.

Time left. 4 d – 23 h.

Free P + P.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~


In less than five minutes the bids started coming in, the figures rolling like a slot machine.

Copeland smiled broadly, closed his eyes, and leant back into his chair daydreaming of retirement on a sunny Caribbean island.


©2013 Stephen. J. Green.

38 comments:

  1. Ha! Gruesome, yet oddly cute. Ingenious! Gotta love a resourceful protagonist!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thanks Catherine. when opportunity knocks... :-)

      Delete
  2. Ha! this story about a muse really did amuse me! Very clever and funny Steve! ^_^

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thank you Helen. I did enjoy writing this too. :-)

      Delete
  3. I think you'll find he retired to Florida.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. He Could do a lot worse John, there's plenty of sunshine there. :-)

      Delete
  4. Replies
    1. Thanks Harry. I hope it gave you a giggle. :-)

      Delete
  5. Oh, I love this! I think Kephen Sting would be amused by this tale!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thank you Darling, I think so too. :-)

      Delete
  6. Replies
    1. Hi Madie, and welcome, thank you for the very kind words. :-)

      Delete
  7. Wow Steve this is one of the most original and creative stories ever, and one of your best. I love how you keep us in suspense throughout and the pay-off (no pun intended) is brilliant. Love it!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thank you Deanna. This was definitely a product of my own lentil-sized purple blob. :-)

      Delete
  8. If only I could afford it, I'd be bidding!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Hi Maria, probably just as well it's so expensive, I do wonder what it would be like to have TWO muses working for you? Oh, the internal conflict. :-)

      Delete
  9. 20 minutes into the future... salvaging body parts is one of those things that scares the hell out of me, but you definitely put it to good use. I like the idea of the muse being an actual physical thing.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thanks Katherine, I'm not sure where the idea came from, I think my own little lentil-sized purple blob was responsible for this one. :-)

      Delete
  10. Loved this one, Steve. Very clever.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Hiya Nickie, thanks very much for the kind words, I did have fun writing it too. :-)

      It makes me smile every time I think of something so small and so expensive being advertised with free P+P. :-)

      Delete
  11. Great concept, but Stephen King? The man has no muse, he is himself a machine, a relentless literary cyborg churning out relentless books!

    Really like the idea of a transferable muse. :-)

    marc nash

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thanks Marc. I agree, Stephen King is brilliant, but I don't think he's related to that great fiction writer Grantley Rugensmythe A.K.A Kephen Sting. :-)

      Delete
  12. Oh clever! An interesting take on the future, I like Katherine feel it somehow scary, but then again one needs to make a living. And if he's lucky...

    I loved the play with the names, and not in a million years I would've guessed what is hidden inside this famous cadaver's brain! Makes me think...could it be?

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thanks Cindy. Quite often a writer's muse is referred to as being a personality all of its own, so maybe it could be an entity in it's own right, living in our heads, pulling our creative strings?

      I think I may go and get my head X-rayed just to find out. (heheh!!)

      Delete
  13. Ooh! It's the wannababe horror novel best-seller's wet dream come true.
    Wet..and writhing!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Heheh!! I'll bet there would be a lot of people wanting to inherit his genius. :-)

      Delete
  14. The muse was a neat twist. I've never imagined them as bugs in the brain before.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thanks Peter, at least if they are a separate entity we won't need to take responsibility for what we produce, just the credit for it when it turns out okay. :-)

      Delete
  15. LOL Like this idea of the muse. Maybe they could be bred in a lab . . .

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Y'know Sonia, that is one beauty of an idea, it would probably mean that the prices would drop though, due to the extra supply. :-)

      Delete
  16. I have to wonder...would a muse from a different writer fetch a lower sum?!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Hi Icy, I think the price would possibly be determined by past performance. :-)

      Delete
  17. Very inventive story, Steve! Although I'm not sure I would want another writer's muse - even if they were wildly successful in the previous tenant. :)

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thanks Chuck. Maybe not, but it would seem an awfully good idea if a talent like that could be salvageable and re-usable, maybe it could extend to other artistic talents too. :-)

      Delete
  18. Brilliant stuff! I loved the MeBay part and the casual tone of the story.

    If I tried to sell my muse she would kill me!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thanks Craig, I'm glad you enjoyed it. :-)

      It sounds like your muse enjoys being where she is, which is probably good news for both of you. :-)

      Delete
  19. LOVE this. In my case, my muse would probably end up selling me on MeBay for spare parts and moving to another writer... o.O Brilliant!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Hiya T.T. Thanks for visiting, and thank you also for the kind words.

      Heheh! I like your idea, I think I'll keep a close eye on my own muse now in case it reads your comment and gets ideas of its own. :-)

      Delete