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Print Job #171
Written By: Jack Wynand
Fiction
Bachelor: So, it's all about trickery to you? Wherever have you come from?
Changeling: No, no... I detest trickery. But if we ourselves are to suffer deception, our hands are no longer tied. Where ARE we?
Haruspex: Well, a muscular contraction is there. Means we're already inside of him. THIS must be one of the ventricles, right here.
Changeling: What a silly place... it's stuffed! So it's not real for now? I don't think it has started, yet.
Bachelor: Does it matter what it's made of? It's definitely struggling. We need to perform sectio transversalis*. Cut the wall. There's no other way out. What else is there to do?
Changeling: I KNOW what to do. Those who favor hard logic and direct action are bound to be misguided. Only a miracle can set us free without us having to destroy something. And I can DO miracles. Just let me. Bachelor: Will you please be quiet? You're a liar and a thief. Who is going to believe you when you keep lying to yourself? The truth is my shepherd. Whatever happens, I WILL find answers, and justice will be restored. I will perform the operation. Medicum morbo adhibere
Haruspex: Don't you go all bossy on me clever clogs... You will act justly, but your justice will blind you and become his demise. This calls for the gentle hand of a surgeon. Step aside, both of you.
Changeling: Your gentle hands are used to killing, not giving life. You will inevitably do harm. As for brainy, he has no regard for casualties at all. Neither of you knows compassion. Bachelor: Yes, it seems unlikely that we'll get along well, but there's only one truth.
Haruspex: Any choice is right as long as it's willed. That's the truth of the matter.
Changeling: Only the heart will show you the right choice. Stop thinking about yourselves, think of the sick. He's in pain. I can't see it yet, but I can feel it.
Bachelor: It's not even a trap... it's a grave. Sub ipsum fumus sumus. Can't say I hold a soft spot for it. Haruspex: I can see that. You're full of hate. Stuffed or not, it's breathing. I can heal it. It can be healed, rather than killed.
Changeling: You mean you won't become a killer? But you will! Mark my word, that's exactly what will happen. But I can avoid it.
Bachelor: No... we won't ever get along. I suggest we be on our way. The sooner the better. Changeling: Off we go then?
Haruspex: Let's go. The clock is ticking...
Changeling: No, no... I detest trickery. But if we ourselves are to suffer deception, our hands are no longer tied. Where ARE we?
Haruspex: Well, a muscular contraction is there. Means we're already inside of him. THIS must be one of the ventricles, right here.
Changeling: What a silly place... it's stuffed! So it's not real for now? I don't think it has started, yet.
Bachelor: Does it matter what it's made of? It's definitely struggling. We need to perform sectio transversalis*. Cut the wall. There's no other way out. What else is there to do?
Changeling: I KNOW what to do. Those who favor hard logic and direct action are bound to be misguided. Only a miracle can set us free without us having to destroy something. And I can DO miracles. Just let me. Bachelor: Will you please be quiet? You're a liar and a thief. Who is going to believe you when you keep lying to yourself? The truth is my shepherd. Whatever happens, I WILL find answers, and justice will be restored. I will perform the operation. Medicum morbo adhibere
Haruspex: Don't you go all bossy on me clever clogs... You will act justly, but your justice will blind you and become his demise. This calls for the gentle hand of a surgeon. Step aside, both of you.
Changeling: Your gentle hands are used to killing, not giving life. You will inevitably do harm. As for brainy, he has no regard for casualties at all. Neither of you knows compassion. Bachelor: Yes, it seems unlikely that we'll get along well, but there's only one truth.
Haruspex: Any choice is right as long as it's willed. That's the truth of the matter.
Changeling: Only the heart will show you the right choice. Stop thinking about yourselves, think of the sick. He's in pain. I can't see it yet, but I can feel it.
Bachelor: It's not even a trap... it's a grave. Sub ipsum fumus sumus. Can't say I hold a soft spot for it. Haruspex: I can see that. You're full of hate. Stuffed or not, it's breathing. I can heal it. It can be healed, rather than killed.
Changeling: You mean you won't become a killer? But you will! Mark my word, that's exactly what will happen. But I can avoid it.
Bachelor: No... we won't ever get along. I suggest we be on our way. The sooner the better. Changeling: Off we go then?
Haruspex: Let's go. The clock is ticking...