Dear friends of latex,
we're bringing you another part of our twisted Christmas tale about Latexelf and his forced last adventure. Don't forget to read the previous parts, if you already haven't done that, and enjoy :)
Latexelf came around lying on a stone floor. A quick glance revealed he was in a bare dungeon without a single piece of furniture. Even the usual pile of hay and bucket were missing. The door looked very sturdy, and the only source of light was a small barred window located just below the ceiling. At night, the cell would plunge into complete darkness, but Latexelf did not intend to stick around and enjoy the experience.
He tried to rise but here came the first problem. His hands were tied behind his back and he was leashed to the wall by a collar and a short chain like some rabid dog. Latexelf tried moving his wrists but whoever tied him knew what they were doing. Also, despite his natural endurance, Latexelf started feeling cold. It was all very, very vexing.
“Hello?“ he shouted, hoping to attract the attention of some jailor to whom he could explain what a regrettable mistake had happened. What did that warrior with the cloak say? Something about a princess? Latexelf wanted no damned princess, he just wanted to retrieve the stolen presents, toss them under the gnomes' tree, jump into his bath and forget about this escapade as soon as possible.
And indeed, he heard quiet footsteps coming from the corridor! Latexelf raised his head in expectation as the door opened and in it stood... a small red fox.
“Oh no,“ gasped Latexelf.
“Oh yeah,“ replied the fox, showing him her wounded paw. “If only there was someone to chew off those ropes, eh?“ she added, baring her teeth in a wicked grin.
“Well, about that thing yesterday...“ began Latexelf, but the fox snorted and walked away.
A minute later, Latexelf heard the sound of much heavier footsteps, and felt a unpleasant premonition.
“Good afternoon, sir,“ said the bear, stopping at the door.
“Likewise,“ sighed Latexelf. “Let me guess: if only there was someone to rip this chain out of the wall, am I right?“
“I couldn't have said it better,“ said the bear humbly and walked away too, limping on its injured leg.
I'm starting to feel there is a moral hidden in this story, thought Latexelf bitterly.
“That is so very true,“ said the old woman who suddenly appeared next to him.
Latexelf was hardly surprised by now. He muttered something under his breath.
“No no, my lad, up yours,“ said the good grandmother, and she vanished.
Latexelf screamed in anger and started thrashing wildly. The chain's rattling sounded like jingle bells.
“This must be a bad dream!“ he shouted.
And indeed, it was!
Latexelf woke up lying on a stone floor. A quick glance revealed he was in a bare dungeon without a single piece of furniture. Even the usual pile of hay and bucket were missing. The door was wide open, and two figures stood in it. Latexelf was tied and chained just like in his nightmare, so he couldn't rub his eyes. Instead, he blinked and squinted, to focus on...
“Oh no,“ he gasped.
“Oh yeah,“ said a slim red-headed girl.
“Good afternoon, sir,“ added a swarthy bearded giant.
They were both naked except for...
“The don't look bad, do they?“ smiled the girl, stroking the twisting red-and-white pattern on the gloves she was wearing.
“And they hide the scars,“ added the giant who was wearing Latexelf's stockings.
But where is...? thought Latexelf in horror.
“You mean this?“ asked the old woman, appearing out of nowhere and showing him both parts of the... artefact.
“No! You can't!“ whispered Latexelf.
“And thank you for the lovely shoes. I shall get married in them,“ giggled the crone and she was gone.
“Nooo! Not my Diamond Heels of Deeeath!“ wailed Latexelf.
“Well, we should get going...“ said the giant.
“See ya, bastard,“ smirked the girl.
The door closed with a slam, leaving Latexelf alone with this shock.
Yes, there indeed was a moral hidden in this story.
“Trust nobody,“ hissed Latexelf through gritted teeth, took a deep breath...
… and filled the cell with one of the stranger war-cries in history.
His hands and arms, six times longer and six times thinner, slipped from the ropes he was bound with, shrank back to their original proportions, and unfastened the chain from the collar. He wanted to tear the choker off, but finally chose not to. He wouldn't want to run around the castle naked.
The door withstood exactly one well-aimed kick. The second turned it into splinters. Latexelf walked out into the corridor. It was pitch-black in there but Latexelf didn't mind. His flaming eyes illuminated his way through the darkness.
* * *
Photo: Marie Pracnová
Makeup: Geen Pagliacci