Beagles & Ramsays Super-Simulacral Future-Anterior
The sky lay black and low over a gnarled landscape, somewhere East of
the Urals. A fizzing shaft of lightning split the knotted, former-communist
oak in two. An owl hooted, and that kind of thing. Hard to believe that
any of it really happened. Their unmarked Transit with fake plates was
parked in the rain-swept empty lot behind, but Beagles & Ramsay were
hunkered down in their desolate Burgerheaven shelter, its broken door
banging in the storm. Another blinding flash threw a stark silhouette
of the waiting space rocket across the malevolent sky.
Funny, really. Things had looked so swell back in the day. We Are The
People were signed to Nieuw Hoofdschudden records and the debut album,
"Sell A Lung To Feed The Kids", was kicking boss ass in Disco-Goth
crypts. Their showdown with Babylon Boy would be make or break. But that
was before Burgerheaven, Uncle Chop Chop, Groove Brain and all those other
Beagles & Ramsays.
Odd that they should hook up in the first place. Beagles was the Fat Cop
loner, solitary Lidl cruiser, solo keyboard dabbler. And Ramsay? He was
a lab-coat dork, backroom boffin, home-alone tech-nerd. Word is that the
flame-throwing antics of Gary the Misunderstood Toddler brought them together,
but who really knows? Maybe it was their simmering, jealous and secret
competition for Zombie Cowgirls affection. The point is, they were
united by a common philosophy: if at first you dont succeed, lower
Faith in fakes and trust in twosomes served them equally well. Until
Groove Brain was a top evil type, an unhooked genius who would gladly
take heat for wicked Uncle Chop Chop. And Chop Chop was way angered. For
years he had been trying to get down with the kids, get oops upside their
heads, rule their world. Control young minds, he argued, and you own the
future. Chop Chop had plans. The two quickest routes to the childs
soul, he figured, were toys and pop music. His attempt to storm the pop
world (We Are The New Spice Girls All Scary) bellied up, but he
was hanging tuff with his range of toney Burgerkid action dolls. Beautifully
moulded from finest plastic, battery operated Burgerboy and Burgergirls
grab feature was their voice activated Kung Fu Kick option. Violence on
command that was the twisted crop Chop Chop hoped to sow in innocent
fields. Lady Luck screwed his scheme, however, when Toys R Us refused
to stock these vicious little items. Yet worse by far: Beagles & Ramsay
happened along and gave the whole Burger thing a new spin. The celeb/burger
crossover concept was no new thing, but in Burgerheaven the stakes were
hiked. No more pining for dead stars such as Elvis, Princess Diana, John
Lennon or Marilyn Monroe: taste their flesh in a sesame bun. This secular
Eucharist captured the spirit of the age. You are what you eat, so why
not chow down on some glamorous deities? Burgerheaven joints became the
new temples of celebrity worship, and their founders Beagles &
Ramsay accumulated great worthiness and devotion. Definitely a
mortal blow to cunning Chop Chops hopes of wicked world domination
through the burger route.
"Destroy them," Chop Chop barked to Groove Brain in finely tutored
Shakespearean tones. "Make ye in their lives a boiling mess of turmoil.
Confound them with a barren harvest of confusion. Double ye their cares,
multiply ye their woes. Unleash ravaging hordes of Beagles & Ramsays
into the emerald expanses and azure depths. Yet shall quivering humanity
rue the days of their singular lives. Make of them a pandemic pestilence!
Betimes shall bewildered hue and cry deliver them to ye Scaffold of Truth
and Justice. Then truth will be undone, justice rent in twain. The age
of mirrord faith shall dawn, and Chop Chop prevail."
Groove Brain was bad at being a good person, but quite good at being an
evil genius. He was exceptional in the ideas department, but oh so below
average at making things. Because he was a bad person but a good genius,
his first idea was conceptually good and morally bad. The Good Beagles
& Ramsay, he reasoned, were beyond reproach, god-like figures presiding
over Burgerheaven. What better way to nix them than to haul them thru
the dirt? He tried to work a We Are The People payola-scam angle, but
no dice. With the help of Gary the Misunderstood Toddler and Zombie Cowgirl
theyd disappeared all tell tale tracks. Nothing for it, then, but
to develop Evil Beagles & Ramsay # 1: Budget Range Sex Doll Beagles
& Ramsay. Life size, flesh coloured, bespectacled, hung and affordable,
the Budget Range Sex Doll Beagles & Ramsays would destroy their image,
jerking it around from untouchable purity to a gross seediness. Who could
take them seriously after taking them anally? Excellent idea, Groove Brain!
Not! Seriously: whos going to get off on a stuffed cotton bag? Wrong
texture, wrong consistency, wrong smell, wrong vibe. Groove Brains
below averageness at making things had let him down.
"Feeble artificer, maladroit manufacturer! Get thee hence to thine
PDSA shop. Emerge not until thou hast fashioned a simulation that
wouldst make even the eternal gods weep with envy. Mark me well,
for I speak not to amuse: let thine next Evil Beagles & Ramsays lack
neither for the gifts of locomotion to command nor voice to seduce."
Some said that they were not so very different from ordinary ventriloquist
dummies, just a bit cruder perhaps. These, however, were the sceptical
minority. Somehow or other, Groove Brain had nailed it. The Evil Beagles
& Ramsays #2 had caught fire. At first it seemed as if people simply
wanted reasonably sized and moderately priced effigies of the prophets
of Burgerheaven. But then it started to go weird. In one of those inexplicable
historical coincidences, two unlikely events came together with disastrous
consequences for the Good Beagles & Ramsay. These were the days, we
must remember, of wonder, confusion and widespread credulity. It started
among small, isolated groups, but then spread rapidly through media-fuelled
rumour: the messages spilling from the hinged plastic jaws of the Ventriloquist
Dummy Beagles & Ramsays were, in fact, originating from Beagles &
Ramsay themselves. Needless to say, this caused great dismay and alarm.
To make matters worse, a freak accident got mixed up with this general
mayhem. A virulent toxic flu virus escaped from a genetic research centre
in Hagshill, infecting the residents of Glasgow, causing nocturnal shrinkage
of the victims bones. Adults shrank to the size of eight year old
children. Rejected and shunned, they took up arms (liberated love
the irony - from Toys R Us). Due to the uncanny similarities between these
miniaturized insurgents and the size of the Ventriloquist Doll Beagles
& Ramsays, the belief grew that Beagles & Ramsay themselves were
directly implicated in this revolutionary movement, that they had somehow
predicted and precipitated it. There were increasing reports of Ventriloquist
Doll Beagles & Ramsays uttering chilling messages of death, destruction
and retribution. As terror mounted in the rest of the country, Beagles
& Ramsay became increasingly feared and hated. Sales at Burgerheaven
slumped and there were incidents of vandalism on the premises. An evil
smile broke malevolently across wicked Uncle Chop Chops nasty face.
The Good Beagles & Ramsay were in a fix. How could they counter the
devastating influence of the Evil Ventriloquist Doll Beagles & Ramsays?
Their answer: defeat Chop Chop and Groove Brain at their own game. Make
Aged Beagles & Ramsays even Dead Beagles & Ramsays. Send
them out across the entire world. Turn hatred and fear into sympathy and
veneration. Who could feel threatened by these wise but impotent old gits?
It would be nice to say that this is the end of the story, but life is
rarely so neat. It is true that Beagles & Ramsay began frantically
producing Aged Us and Dead Us dolls in an attempt to stem the flow of
hatred inspired by the Ventriloquist Doll Beagles & Ramsays, but their
effects were mixed. The success of Burgerheaven could only happen in an
age when hope, naivety and easily satisfiable gluttony were in the ascendant.
But such a constellation of factors is fragile and unstable. One can easily
become sated with Elvis flavoured flesh, one can even begin to believe
that eating such delicacies is mundane and routine. One then finds it
hard to swallow the idea that the taste of the celebrity puts one in the
presence of celebritys aura. Hope, naivety and satisfiable gluttony
then become displaced by despair, cynicism and an insatiable appetite
for revenge. And so it happened. Burgerheaven gave way to Burgerhell,
and Good Beagles & Ramsay gave way to Ambivalent Beagles & Ramsay.
A darkness of violence and distrust descended, an irrational reign of
suspicion and secrecy. Good Beagles & Ramsay, who had once united
people in blissful ignorance, now became the fragmented focus of myriad
cults. Some revered Beagles & Ramsay more highly now that they were
presumed dead; some refusing to believe the actuality of their
death, but desiring it above all else enacted ritualistic mutilation
of Beagles & Ramsay dolls. Some worshipped Good Beagles & Ramsay
effigies, others paid homage to the Evil Beagles & Ramsays. One obscure
sect was even rumoured to devote themselves to Budget Range Sex Doll Beagles
& Ramsays. Dark night had fallen metaphorically.
Even in the real dark of night the vintage Lada was unmistakable with
its boot formed from melted down Rolls Royce angels. As it slowly headed
across the launch site towards the storm battered carcass of Burgerheaven,
Beagles and Ramsay exchanged places. The two occupants got out of the
car and ran from the tempest into the gloomy shell of the building. The
wind howled like something that should frighten you in a film. Once inside,
negotiations began. Here was the deal: Beagles & Ramsays reputations
were compromised good and proper, they knew that this was an offer they
could not refuse. With the help of the skeleton crew (Uri, Ivan and Boris)
they could steer the chartered spacecraft to Pluto. With their company
of clone mating teams it should not take long for the programme of intense
breeding to populate this dead planet. The clones number 48 pairs and
are exact replicas of the infamous earthbound double act. This could have
legs, they speculated.
The deal done, the parties separated. As they were about to enter their
waiting Lada, Groove Brain spoke on behalf of both of them: "Its
goodnight from me, and its goodnight from him. Goodnight.."
An evil smile broke malevolently across wicked Uncle Chop Chops
nasty face. "Goodnight."