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Hyle Troy's picture
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Sunday Morning. Hyle was half asleep, feeling the after effect of another great party. It was the sound of a motor outside and men calling instructions outside that woke her. She wondered what the noise was.


“Left a bit, down, Easy now it is heavy.”


The motor gunned for a few moments.


Eventually curiosity overcame whisky induced inertia and Hyle rolled out of bed. The first thing she noticed was the end of a crane jib outside her bedroom window.


“Hvad fanden?” she murmured and looked around for some clothes.


By the time she opened the door the three guys were looking proudly at their work. Eric was the first to notice Hyle as she appeared at the door.


“Good morning Miss Troy.” He smiled and glanced at the handy work, then back at Hyle. “It’s quite impressing hmm?” Then his smile faded somewhat as he realised Hyle was not sharing the pride he felt. “Something wrong?” He asked.


It was the expression on Hyle’s face. The bird nest of hair, the road-map eyes wide open, also the open mouth.


“Hvad i alverden er det?


“Errm. Excuse me?”


Hyle blinked as her mind switched to English. Hyle was looking up, but the bright morning sun hurt her eyes. She squinted, the jaw still remained dropped.

“I said. What is that?”


Eric looked puzzled. He could not understand why Hyle was not well impressed with his work. “It’s your julie-bock. Exactly 120 high like you asked.” he paused then added. “The chaps are delivering the other one to Mr. Spivey as we speak!” He added to reinforce his pride at the excellent service he provided.


“No it’s not.”


“Yes it is. A Julie- bock. 120 high, exactly like your sketch.” Eric was confused, he had expected Hyle to be more than happy with his handywork. “Fresh clean straw, bright red ribbons just as you asked...” His statement sounded more like a question as his voice tailed off.


“It’s not 120 high.”


“Yes it is. Exactly. To the inch.” Eric said firmly, feeling a little hurt that she doubted his word, As he looked, he saw Hyle’s eyes close and a long sigh come from her. Her face turned to Eric and the ice blue eyes opened, showing a certain amount of disappointment.


“Centimetres.” Hyle said quietly, realising where the confusion came from, her hand indicating a height of around four feet from the ground.

“Oh...” Eric’s face fell “Not ten feet then.”


Hyle shook her head. A vision of a Waffelhus full of popcorn flashed through her mind. Eric looked down at his feet and shuffled them.




Hyle bit her lip “No, I should have been clearer.” She looked at Eric almost apologetically, then looked up at the giant Julebok. “It’s ermm… Very impressing. Faktisk!”


They both looked up at the monster for some time. Neither said anything.


It was Hyle’s snort that broke the silence then her laughter filled the awkward silence that had developed. Eric and his chaps, now relieved by the laughter, joined in.


After several laughter filled moments, Hyle turned to Eric. “And you say the one I ordered for Mr. Spivey is being delivered now also?”


“Absolutely. Just as you asked.” Eric confirmed.


The smile spread across Hyles face.



“I have a feeling he may be as surprised as I was… Åh, husk det ikke!. Coffe anyone?”



Joe Spivey's picture

It was about this time, in some other place, that Joe Spivey, still in dressing gown and carpet slippers and with his breakfast cigar clenched firmly beneath his teeth, was standing in front of the... thing whilst emptying the second clip of 7.62mm ammunition into its rapidly disintergrating chest. All the time snarling that whatever was hiding inside this Trojan Horse/Deer/Thing had best come out soon, or else. Meanwhile the two delivery men were being firmly held by the street patrol while Kirsten asked them a few pertinent questions. Also meanwhile, in an upstairs window, Silja was holding her hands over Annie's delicate ears, partly because of the gunfire but mainly because of the tobacco peppered expletives coming from the mouth her Daddy.

Stick with me kid and you'll be farting through silk.

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