The Colporteur Bros. hawked pamphlets for the Witness: Evan humping the pamphlets and Ivan forcing them into people’s hands, the brothers going about their trade like Millerist Adventists. Were it not for Evan, who’s back was as wide as a roof, and Ivan, who had hands nimbler than a seamstresses’, the Witnesses’ pamphlets would have fallen on deaf ears. Anzoátegui Courbevoie, enemy of the meek, blight on man, woman and child alike, sworn nemesis of colporteurs and Witnesses, had to be defaced off the face of the world. Dawbake, gadabout, lecher, a world overflowing with dross and piddle. Rémy de Gourmont, known for his cold temper, swore up and up that he’d efface whomever got in his way, man, woman or Dawbake. Evan and Ivan (Colporteur Bros.) were God’s mercenaries, Evan handing the pamphlets to Ivan, Ivan thrusting the pamphlets into people’s faces, halfwits and clods fumbling to keep their balance, tossing the crumpled pamphlets into the nearest trashcan. The Colporteur Bros. (Evan and Ivan), despised piddle, the smell driving them both strange in the head. Rémy de Gourmont, known for his cold temper, read aloud a poem he found in the overleaf of a book on Situational Envy published by the Casaluce Campania in 1927:
Sitzung
Sitzung
Zu lange In
der gleichen
Positi d as knie
nach außen d ann
nach innen die n
ie zu spät Zu
meistern
Callisth -
enics
No sooner had he finished reading the poem then the sky fell onto his head, one of his ears sheared clean off by a roof tile. de Gourmont, knowing that the Witness was nearby, his two minions hawking pamphlets, was chary, and as the chary are, suspicious of anyone who didn’t fit neatly into a saltbox. ‘…the world is a silage-trap, and people the fester and blight that overfills the goose-gate...’ he grumbled, his shorn ear smarting. The day went about its business, filling up empty space and empty promises; the Colporteur Bros. hawking, the Witness witnessing and Rémy de Gourmont threatening to saltbox anyone that got in his way.
No sooner had he finished reading the poem then the sky fell onto his head, one of his ears sheared clean off by a roof tile. de Gourmont, knowing that the Witness was nearby, his two minions hawking pamphlets, was chary, and as the chary are, suspicious of anyone who didn’t fit neatly into a saltbox. ‘…the world is a silage-trap, and people the fester and blight that overfills the goose-gate...’ he grumbled, his shorn ear smarting. The day went about its business, filling up empty space and empty promises; the Colporteur Bros. hawking, the Witness witnessing and Rémy de Gourmont threatening to saltbox anyone that got in his way.
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