My
moment
with Angus Oblong.
By Starla
Easterly.
Claiming
to have been born in 1863, the young man sitting before me says
he was once named Engelbert Humperdink. He claims to have changed
his name to "Angus Oblong" at the age of 14 after having
been struck by lightning thrice within 2 years. "The name
was bad luck," he says. Zeus apparently wanted me dead.
But so do my three ex wives.
Oblong casually slipped out of the chicken suit (yes, a costume
of a chicken!) he was wearing and said that he had just come from
some kind of online chicken fetish job. I didn't inquire further.
I met with Oblong over tea at a local bookstore/café (not
a fuck*ng Starbucks.) where the author/illustrator was kind enough
to let me interview him, agreeing that I only had a limited time
in which to ask him questions. Oblong had some trouble keeping
his attention on anything for more than afew seconds and asked
me more than twice what colored undergarments I was wearing.
His parents, he claims, were a pair of conjoined twins
(one of them black), and were employed by Goldsmiths
Traveling Sideshow & Circus, where his parents formed
a contortionist act with their 8 keeper children.
Mother gave birth like a sprinkler, and referred to the
eight of us that she kept as 'her little keepers.
The non-keepers; the other Humperdink siblings, are spread across
Canada and the U.S.
It was our job as Mother's kids to help her to leave her babies
on random doorsteps in nearly every town we traveled through.
Setting down a baby & running back to the car is one of my
earliest childhood memories, claims Oblong.
So if your family found a newborn on their doorstep between the
years of 1855 and 1984 when his birth mother was murdered by a
nun, the chances are good that it the found child is related to
Angus Oblong.
Together with his inferior siblings, his conjoined parents and
his parakeet named Mister Squeaky Fuck, Angus traveled
the U.S. and Canada with Goldsmiths Traveling Sideshow
& Circus for nearly 120 years.
At
age 9 in 1945, Angus ran away from his cramped boxcar home and
started his own small, but lucrative business selling stolen pets
back to their owners. "Do you have any pets?" he asked
me, casually sipping his tea. I lied and told him no.
He ended up in California after years of living on the streets
and taking it in the butt by ugly old men for heroin money. It
could have been worse, he says, putting ketchup into his
herbal tea. I could have liked it.
After getting his life back together by getting a job as a taco
who waved to cars in front of a clown-themed pancake house, Oblong
decided to use his Buddah given talent of illustration to create
deep and meaningful books for children. And of course, "The
Oblongs."
He wrote a short, tragic tale of an idiot child entitled, Stupid
Betsy and he had found his style. Quickly following Betsy
were Creepy Susie (which was written & illustrated
under the influence of a joint given to him by exotic dancer friend
he simply calls Excellent Nina), "Rosie's Crazy Mother"
(which is apparently based on his own childhood), Inbred
Harvey, Narcoleptic Scottie, and Emily,
Amputee. These books were published into a collection, entitled,
"Creepy Susie and 13 Other Tragic Tales for Troubled Children"
published by Ballentine Publishing Company in New York City.
The tales in his 2nd book, entitled, "13 More Tragic Tales
for Ugly Children," include (but are not limited to) Crossdressing
Charles, Carl & the Crippled Black Kid with a
Eyepatch (Oblong claims this one to be a true story), and
Janets Butt. The latter named after his older,
hideously malformed sister, Janet Oblong.
All of my sisters are ugly, claims Oblong as he pulls
wallet sized photos of cartoon trolls from his three inch thick
wallet that more resembles a sandwich than a wallet. "See?"
he says, holding up the pictures as though they were some sort
of proof.
After working with some of Hollywood's worst, most arrogant television
writers
on his animated series, The Oblongs, he says hes
decided to hate people from now on. "I hate people from now
on," said Oblong.
Currently he is working on a slew of new illustrated books that
will never be published due to their content. He claims to be
very happily married to a wheelchair bound woman named Shimmery,
and together they have three human children named Pink, Bjork
& Grampy. Grampy was born dead, but we still keep him,
Oblong says with a straight face.
Hes in a water filled jar on the mantle. His water
is cloudy from the peanut butter that Shimmery puts in there for
him to eat. He stinks like death but we love him. We're actively
looking for someone to marry him. Preferably another dead baby
in a jar, so they can relate to eachother.
During the interview, Oblong pointed at something out of the window
behind me, claiming to have just spotted a crippled albino. I
turned to look and saw only walking people with all of their skin
pigment. At turning back to finish the interview, Oblong and his
chicken suit were gone.
If I could describe Oblong in two words they would be, Absolutely
repulsive.
Starla Easterly,
staff reporter.