Tuesday, June 06, 2006

Rash Decisions

HOST ORGANISM: Human, male.
LOCATION: His right and left foot.
NAME: He calls himself 'Tim'.

Memo to Commander of the Eczema Rash:
Rash Commander!
At last, I am happy to report that we have found a suitable base for our forces! We have taken up residence in the Host's foot, and are preparing to stake out our territory. I think I can safely say that, at last, we can spread, free and safe, in the knowledge that the Human Host will never be bothered reaching down so far but to scratch us (and, as you know, "to scratch us only makes us stronger!")
Here in the rolling arch, behind the heel, we shall find a home! In these lush pink coigns of land, we may flourish and multiply, in happy symbiosis with the Human Host!

Memo to Commander of the Eczema Rash:
Joy! Oh Joy!
Rash Commander, it is with the utmost pleasure that I report to you the latest developments. Over the past few days, the Eczema troops have made an exciting discovery. Whilst exploring the territory, the troops briefly surmounted the boney protuberance at one end of the valley which we inhabit; coming to the top, they surveyed several natural valleys down which ran fresh rivulets of sweat, and which, furthermore, the Host rubbed and itched from time to time. He calls them "Toes". Commander, then and there, I formed the plan of Colonising these valleys; for they would make a marvellous home for our troops.
Truly, these lush, verdant pastures of pink flesh seem like a paradise. We have even given them a name: they are to be called 'Fleshland'.

Memo to Commander of the Eczema Rash:
O Rash Commander, it seems too good to be true! This 'Fleshland' truly is a blessed paradise!
But let me begin at the beginning, O Commander. I must inform you of a fortuitous event occurring earlier today which bears good tidings for our relationship with the Human Host.

Barely had we woken this morning than the Host proceeded to wrap his feet tightly in nylon garments before housing them in a narrow chamber. Following this, he moved his feet in alternation up and down for several minutes - possibly a whole half-hour.
In other words, O Commander, he "put" on his "socks" and "shoes" and "walked to work"!
I need hardly stress how important this was: the hot, enclosed environment; the sweat, and enzymes that were thereby produced; the bacteria and fungi that gathered - all were highly favourable for the rapid multiplication of the Rash!
Clearly, Commander, the Host loves us! The Host will do anything for us!
I am so happy, I could weep tears of pus! As a matter of fact, I think I will!

Memo to Commander of the Eczema Rash:
Commander, it is a dark day for the Rash! Many of our troops are dead or dying, and hundreds more are in dire straits! We have had to temporarily fall back from our position of advantage.
What happened was this: suddenly, unexpectedly, a monumental pink-and-white object descended on us from the skies, and began to stab at us, repeatedly. The white substance fell from the pink object, and amongst our people. It burned like fire! We suffered infernal torments in this deathly white rain from the heavens! It seemed that our days were numbered!
Finally, the dreadful pink monument ascended into the heavens again, purified of the dreadful White Substance, leaving us to take score of our losses. Looking up at this retreating object of dread, we could not but notice: it was a Finger.
O, Rash Commander, I cannot help feeling the Host will be disappointed in us, though I know not why. We must redouble in vigour, and set forth boldly over all areas of the Host's skin, such that he feels our presence as never before! Only then will the Host be pleased with our effort and industry! Only then will his blessings be with us, then, and forevermore!

Memo to Commander of the Eczema Rash:
Since the dreadful, maleficient Day of the Finger, I am pleased, O Commander, to report that we have more than doubled our forces again, and strengthened our position greatly. From the heel through the rolling valley to the lush lands on the inside of the Host's 'Big Toe', our people stretch; from one side of our Host's feet to the other, we exist.
Life is good, O Commander! The Host loves us, and that is all we need! Praise the Host! Hail the Host! Adore the Host!

Memo to Commander of the Eczema Rash:
A Direful Day! Once again, the Finger dipped in Cream has descended, pointing, on us! Repeatedly, it has fallen, as a Wolf falls on the Fold, with it's White Rain of Death! And this time, it has been dipped in a cream more horrible, more potent, than before; everywhere it falls, it has scarified the landscape, destroying the Rash's marshalled troops, and sent us scattering, laying waste to the Countryside.
The Rash wailed in terror and pain as the finger came on us, again and again: and it was then that one of our troops made a proclamation both terrible and awesome:
And the Rash looked upon the Finger, and we saw that it was so!

Clearly, O Commander, we have displeased the Host! Clearly, the Host does this out of Anger! O Forgive us, mighty Host - we are but abject sinners!

Memo to Commander of the Eczema Rash:
Dark days, O Commander: our forces are but few. We have been made to retreat from the verdant lands of pink flesh. Day after day, the Host, with his terrible Finger, renews his attacks upon the Rash. Day after day, the White Cream of Death falls upon us.
We have been weighed and found wanting! The Host hates us - and surely, with good reason! Surely, we have done something to warrant this savage attack! We must have!
It would even be a consolation to believe the words of one of our Philosophers: "There IS no Host: there is only The Rash, alone, in an uncaring universe."
But alas: the terrible Finger spells out a different story ...

Memo to Commander of the Eczema Rash:
Can't stop ... not ... much time ... write ... Rash ... almost extinct ... supplies ... low ... have ordered ... final retreat ...

The future ... of ... The Rash ... in your hands ...

Suggest .... different Host ...

ALL HAIL THE RASH! *Cough* *Hack*

I attach memos from our exploratory forces. Clearly, we are dealing with a malignant Host. We must marshall our forces, and attack!



nailpolishblues said...

Ugh. I'm never going near your feet.

Tell me again why you're not being paid bucketloads of cash for your writing?

deeleea said...

Nice work, almost reads like a treatment of Screwtape's Letters...

Rebecca said...

Hi TimT,
I too suffer from the same warzone. If you find a peace accord, please let me know.

TimT said...

Nails, it's not that bad. My foot, I mean. The story might have it's moment as well. But being paid? Huh, virtually nobody pays good money for fiction. Especially of this sort ...

Cheers Deeleea!

Will do, Rebecca. At the moment I'm trying music therapy, I croon to my rash every night ...

Comic Mummy said...

That's true - they especially don't pay if you don't submit. ;-)

TimT said...

Alright, already! I submitted something to Vibewire yesterday!

Although I suppose they don't pay either ...

Anonymous said...

Very cool design! Useful information. Go on!
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Email: timhtrain - at -

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