toodar

TOY

TEN PACES

We made another video....we can't wait to show you.

http://www.myspace.com/toodar/blog/543363417

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A door opens: A banquet awaits, heavy silverware upon white linen upon mahogany. Sticks of candles wedged in silver flicker, and dribble, and spit gold.

Here are your waiters. Perfectly in time, pouring bewitched wine that fills glasses suddenly, unexpectedly like a blush.

An amuse-bouche shivers in the bowl and whispers lyrics from the underworld. Your waiters bring roasted birds, fattened and succulent and oozing amber tears.

Your head waiter stands. You dine, your napkins dab at scarlet lips. You nibble with dainty forks, plucking tender grapes from stalks like they’re blossom from the leaves.

Teeth grow thicker, violent. You gnaw and you tear. The fat will drip from your lips and stain the table, and four girls reaching four fingers will swipe at the food, smeared with cream and strawberry jam.

Snatch a glance at the waiters. Four waistcoats standing smartly as chaos unfolds: they wait with passive smiles and voices. And as they clasp themselves together, gilded and woven by the beastly breakdown, a glance, nose-to-nose, ripples the wall of waiters.

All the while, the enchantment takes hold. Sips devolve into greedy gulps, and then a smash of a goblet and a spray of glass.

My darlings! Over you go, into the feast. Handfuls of pudding splatter the walls, and two of you curl fingers, sucked together with a vampire’s kiss. The wild forcing food into throats, and up to the ceiling, and scattering the silk drapes with pieces of pastry and bullets of fruit.

One princess, she glides in high heels across the table, kicking the china as she goes, hair is smeared, and gowns are grabbed at, ripped, wrestled with, torn. Portions of flesh are freed from corsets and ladders dragged down silk stockings.

Just as soon as it began, the abandon ends in one sheer fold. A snap of the fingers and the ladies trail out, half-naked and intoxicated. Your immaculate waiters clear your remains with the sweep of a hand and a scatter of drumbeat. And, as if nothing ever existed before, they bring ten more, ten more to the room for the enchanted feast.

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-Beth Proud

http://www.myspace.com/toodar/blog/543363129