A sort of Fountain

A surrealistic game

The concept :

White lie

1. Who invented it first ?

Arthur Spota :

God The Father, when he told us we had free will, then condemned us for using it.

Daniel C. Boyer

: Pierre Alembard, the usual sort of pig who was commanded by the vingegar-octopus to put an end to all sorts of humbugs perpetuated by fungi. He was an 18th-century African-American monk who vomited secretly at the thought of his corns being under the command of a secret set of instructions aluminum foil had made (because of the danger that the cornucopia would rub his penis).

Richard Dotson :

anonymous

Ray Bartrip :

The horsemen of the apocalypse to disguise their purpose.

Brandon Freels :

Thomas Jefferson, on his eleventh birthday.

Gypsy Sherred :

I did.

John Adams :

The first sons of black nights.

M.K.Shibek :

The darkest truth.

Ian Eade :

God, by not telling Adam and Eve what was to come

Hannah Cadaver :

Someones mother dreamed momentarily and there it was.

Parry Harnden :

The Ancient Persians, I suspect.

Tom Clarkson :

Adam.

Barrett John Erickson :

Golfers north of the arctic circle, but it no longer resembles their original.

Dale Houstman :

Several small children trapped in a burning alpine wagon.

Xtian :

An Egyptian Pharaoh with big teeth.

2. How many tongues, horns, nails and fingers does it have ?

A.S. :

As many as can be accounted for at the Tower of Babel.

D.C.B. :

Zero tongues, fourteen horns, two nails, eleven fingers.

R.D. :

three Telephone fingers

R.B. :

Many tongues to wag, many nails to bite, horny fingers to climb trees with.

B.F. :

It has three nails affixed to it hip. Its seven fingers are severed and wrapped around its single horn that protrudes from the tip of its erect tongue.

G.S. :

A buried treasure chest full.

J.A. :

Black and red, it has the back of the black widow, and its silver eyes, which glow, are glued to its skull with nails.

M.K.S. :

As many tongues, horns, nails and fingers as it needs to become contagious at the most precarious of moments...

I.E.

: Non as it is pure energy and has no physical form

H.C. :

Whatever fits - use it

P.H. :

As many fingers as it takes to set a mousetrap, as many horns as the Paul Whiteman orchestra, as many tongues as there are people, as many nails as it takes to seal a mad woman in a wall.

T.C. :

17.

B.J.E. :

It has no such features, but instead looks like an oil slick.

D.H. :

A single translucent tongue in a greased ditch, five horns mounted on a aqua-marine Lazy Susan, one nail sufficient to the cause, and an infinite number of fingers crammed into a sweating kangaroo pouch.

X :

None - it does not need any. Its weapon of choice is its weight.

3. What is its mother language ?

A.S. :

Human.

D.C.B. :

French (the most polite language (after Farsi) since the reign of the Parisi).

R.D. :

Bull

R.B. :

The language of the Pict-Shi from Transylvania 4500BC.

B.F. :

Spanish.

G.S. :

Romani!

J.A. :

It is the ardvark neighing with desires.

M.K.S. :

It speaks in colorless paint.

I.E.

: Hebrew

H.C. :

bullshit

P.H. :

The art of magic.

T.C. :

Gaelic.

B.J.E. :

An arcane dialect long since abandoned by all but obscure Aleut scholars.

D.H. :

The debased form of Atlantean Cockney Warble.

X :

The wind.

4. What colours does it have ?

A.S. :

Purple, with bright flashes of red.

D.C.B. :

White and of course black.

R.D. :

father of pearl

R.B. :

The colours of battle and compassion

B.F. :

Cream.

G.S. :

Infra-red and Ultra-violet. Black.

J.A. :

Accapulco Orange, the most feverish dandy

M.K.S. :

It's blood-red on the inside, green with envy on the outside.

I.E.

: Transparent

H.C. :

every colour - but it only reviels what is absolutely necessary for that moment and will keep showing it as long as it can get away with it!

P.H. :

All colours, as white is a mixture of all. The bright result tends to be horrid: whitewash, the White House, the Ripper's Whitechapel, the white of Caesar's mourners or Chinese funerals, the White Caps (southern American race terrorists), the white collar (the symbol of the rate race, the white of dead flesh).

T.C. :

Rust, black and shit brown.

B.J.E. :

It doesn't wear colors because its favorite bars won't let it in when it does.

D.H. :

That delicate oyster-pink seen only at the tips of Lennins hemorrhoids.

X :

Transparent, but can also be pearl. (Is able to disguise itself in a packet of jellybeans though, but I can't explain it...)

5. To which spice does it ressemble ?

A.S. :

Paprica, which has little discernable taste as a spice, and adds practically nothing to whatever recipe it's added to.

D.C.B. :

Saffron.

R.D. :

the beautiful black one: Pepper

R.B. :

a white spice for a lie, a black spice for a murder.

B.F. :

Ginger.

G.S. :

Lemon Verbena

J.A. :

Ginger

M.K.S. :

Cayenne pepper mixed with corn starch.

I.E.

: None

H.C. :

sugar

P.H. :

Baby Spice.

T.C. :

Nutmeg.

B.J.E. :

Cinnamon.

D.H. :

Ground raccoon prostate!

X :

Water.

6. Does it light up candles ?

A.S. :

Only when it's gotten itself into a lot of trouble.

D.C.B. :

Yes; every night of its existence a veritable Chaunukah.

R.D. :

No, but they sure blush an orange hue

R.B. :

When the moon is new.

B.F. :

Only when wearing an apple-smeared apron.

G.S. :

Yes, with a smouldering gaze. It can snuff them out, too, if it chooses.

J.A. :

With the heat of generous priestly bodies

M.K.S. :

It EATS candles!

I.E.

: All the time

H.C. :

the person who it speaks to becomes a lit candle

P.H. :

No, but it forces you to hold your palm over the flame.

T.C. :

Yes, only on thursdays at 3pm

B.J.E. :

It inflames those already burning.

D.H. :

Only during a cease-fire, and then via remote-controlled altar boys.

X :

It carries one in a little wooden box, tied to its 'tail-end', but this candle is not used for anything.

7. How does it smell, speak or sing ?

A.S. :

It smells like lavender when it's covered in feces, it speaks French when it's really grunting in pig english, it sounds like Scott Walker when it's true voice is Robbie Williams.

D.C.B. :

It smells like cinnamon of chocolate, it speaks with bells which are tuned to the hymns of the Catholic church, it sings reluctantly, and only when the toaster and the oyster have begged it, surrounded by glass windows.

R.D. :

Like Indian Incense it speaks by singing

R.B. :

It has many senses including those which we have not.

B.F. :

It smells like peppermint. It speak by clapping its hands together. It sings by stomping its feet.

G.S. :

By subtly persuading others to smell, speak or sing for it.

J.A. :

Like the rotundry blimp dipped into the ocean; a pickle, spitting enflamed words, floating on their verse.

M.K.S. :

Smells like rotting leaves, speaks in a very quiet musical cadence.

I.E.

: It casts suggestive thought waves which only those with vision can understand

H.C. :

in lullaby tones

P.H. :

Like a drunk wearing a tin barrel, standing on a slatted butterbox, bellowing the song "You Must Have Been a Beautiful Baby" to all the passing crones who avoid making eye contact with him.

T.C. :

It smells speaks and sings like a combination of Clinton the president and Clinton the funk artist.

B.J.E. :

It sings with a stink that is unspeakable.

D.H. :

Like a beautiful woman sprayed with phosgene, a bird squeezed into a tobacco pipe, an armchair.

X :

The candle or the white lie? The white lie - smells of pearls, does not speak, and makes a very faint murmuring sound only audible late at night when all is quiet. Also snores.

8. To which well known magician or sorcerer would you offer it as a present ?

A.S. :

John Constantine.

D.C.B. :

Harry Houdini.

R.D. :

They would know by the sounds of my tires and squeaky brakes, I have arrived.

R.B. :

It cannot be given or taken or possessed in permanent mortality, it can only be borrowed

B.F. :

Alphe'us, a magician in the army of Charlemagne, slain in sleep by Clorida'no.

G.S. :

Aleister Crowley - A White Lie to match White Stains

J.A. :

Cornelius the upsurgent mal-soothsayer of the Tropical Orient.

M.K.S. :

Aleister Crowley.

I.E.

: Merlin

H.C. :

They already possess it - they all have had mothers

P.H. :

None. They are beyond white lies. Lies are a form of magic: they change reality. White lies are a form of white magic. It would be like giving the instructions for aspirin use to a brain surgeon.

T.C. :

George Bush.

B.J.E. :

Whoever Harry Potter is getting stoned with.

D.H. :

Gene Autry.

X :

I don't know any, but I could take it to the local magician shop to get it valued I guess...

9. Do you think that so much fur is fair ?

A.S. :

Only if you're Sasquatch.

D.C.B. :

Fairer than usual, but perhaps not as fair as the magistrates of the 14th century decreed.

R.D. :

Fur can be so unfair.

R.B. :

Fur is neither fair nor unfair, there is no justice in winter

B.F. :

Only if the fur is grown on rocks.

G.S. :

Yes, things can never be too furry.

J.A. :

Fairer than the fairest princes and princesses could appeal to us as.

M.K.S. :

It's fair because the truth is cold.

I.E.

: Depends which animal it came from

H.C. :

it is not for me to judge

P.H. :

Yes. Fur recognizes no race, creed, or species. Except under special circumstances, the more fur the better. The fur of a white lie resembles a fuzz-covered scar which turns out to be a caterpillar.

T.C. :

No I do not. I am outraged. I am angry. And I am perturbed and i will bring my protest to my local green grocer on thursday (which is my special day).

B.J.E. :

There has always been fur at the fair, but it isn't fair, it's brunette mostly.

D.H. :

When I brand an airplane, it stays branded.

X :

Fur is gooooooooood! But the white lie hasn't any. I do though...

10. Do you believe that it could be useful for your daily life ?

A.S. :

Very Useful.

D.C.B. :

For the lubicration of certain maidens, before intercourse.

R.D. :

Only once.

R.B. :

It is vital to survival.

B.F. :

If it were attached to a fan and thrown off the top of a cloud.

G.S. :

Absolutely. I never leave home without it.

J.A. :

There is a pile of broken sticks, let them burn in it without another murmur.

M.K.S. :

Sometimes essential for avoiding incarceration.

I.E.

: Without a doubt as we all need a boombastic jazz style

H.C. :

oh yes, useful it is

P.H. :

Certainly -- but habitual dishonesty, hypocrisy, and malevolent deceit are more useful. So much for usefulness.

T.C. :

It is, it will be, it has been and I'll take it even to the rapture.

B.J.E. :

No.

D.H. :

I have no daily life, having invested it in pets.com.

X :

As a paper-weight; an ornament on the mantelpiece; behind the wheel of your car on a slope perhaps... many uses, but none specific.

11. What would you prefer to use it for ?

A.S. :

To recapture the street of lonliness and convince it it is a garden of my childhood.

D.C.B. :

A repairer of shoes, which were pied in colour and which (tragically) were my favourites.

R.D. :

Spaghetti sauce

R.B. :

to end the cold of winter and call the winds of change from their sleep

B.F. :

Shining my shoes.

G.S. :

Comedy purposes. Magical operations. Seduction.

J.A. :

To fuel us then at damnation alley.

M.K.S. :

To sweep up spilled milk.

I.E.

: Getting home in the dark without ruining my hair

H.C. :

scrapes

P.H. :

This is a very difficult question. When it is used absent-mindedly, when its commission does not even impress itself on the consciousness, it is a salubrious thing. When used consciously, it is manipulative and destructive. So I guess I would prefer to use it when I don't realize that or know why I'm using it.

T.C. :

A key to open up my pants.

B.J.E. :

A knick-knack for a paddy whack.

D.H. :

Washing pictures of Henry Kissinger off the sides of gutted swine.

X :

Floatation device in a pool. Despitre its weight, it is a lot like those pool bananas.

12. Is it male or female and how would you prove it ?

A.S. :

It is female, as man would never tell a small lie to spare someone's feelings.

D.C.B. :

You look under the tail, or you ask in the marketplace. You find out from an old ogre, "the body is female, but the head and horns are male."

R.D. :

It is ale. Not pub ale, mind you, but ale as in female and male without letters f or e or m. It is capable of any imaginable sexual funtion, fantasized or practical. It carries all qualities of both sexes.

R.B. :

It is male as the red stone of the desert and as female as the spray from the waterfall. This can be proven by an anonymous shark.

B.F. :

Its male, as determined by the tan color of its toenails.

G.S. :

Both, depending on its whim. I would prove this by asking it.

J.A. :

If the corners are buttered, then she will speak with a light dildo-phone, if nay, he will become an onion slice.

M.K.S. :

It is an androgyne because it lives 24 hours a day/night.

I.E.

: Given that it is the first and only one of its kind it must be a hermaphrodite which is capable of self reproduction.

H.C. :

depends on the situation. You can not prove anything about a white lie.

P.H. :

All concepts are somewhat feminine. I suppose one could verify by having the white lie use Chuck Berry�s lavatory, then check the videotape later.

T.C. :

It�s male and it is female at the same time, much like Tammy Fay Baker. I can prove it by photographs on her website.

B.J.E. :

It is a neutered 3rd sex projecting into a dimension we can't experience directly. You have to take my word for it.

D.H. :

It is a third sex and beholden to no one. The juice of the pumice makes it mate.

X :

I need not.

13. In which way could it become dangerous for your life ?

A.S. :

If it's secrecy was deciphered by the delirious in the world.

D.C.B. :

If it pierces the skin anywhere near the heart. Women in hoop-skirts use it for attack this way, just before you climb the staircase (I wish this would enable me to look under their skirts, but right now I am reading a book).

R.D. :

After it is translated.

R.B. :

to the Left.

B.F. :

Its been sited wearing boots made from anthrax.

G.S. :

If it is maltreated.

J.A. :

If the mothers of all creation were to parish at once.

M.K.S. :

If it wound up believing its own hype.

I.E.

: Thru the telling of false phrophecy

H.C. :

addictability

P.H. :

When it deludes me or robs me of the facts. When that which others decide is in my best interest is not. My rule-of-thumb is "it is always better to know."

T.C. :

Simply through over indulgence with excessive pleasure which leads to the softening of the brain much as masturbation has lamentably for me.

B.J.E. :

When i fail to ignore it.

D.H. :

By de-radicalizing my kitchen appliances.

X :

DO NOT Lift it above your head. Its hatred for gravity is legendary, and it will turn very heavy in an attempt to crush it. This means it'll cruch whoever is holding it also. Also keep it out of your bed. But that's obvious.

14. What or who do you think could be its best friend ?

A.S. :

Lazarus.

D.C.B. :

A small and ill-tempered dog who is setting sail for Indonesia.

R.D. :

Oh a trick question!

R.B. :

The Harrod's Christmas Food Hamper.

B.F. :

Wendy Carlos

G.S. :

The Cutty Wren.

J.A. :

Sal Monella

M.K.S. :

The antechamber to the dustbin of history.

I.E.

: Truth love and freedom

H.C. :

mothers, teachers, friends

P.H. :

That Precious Moments Chapel with all the dead children painted on its ceiling.

T.C. :

Toto, from the Wizard of Oz.

B.J.E. :

Friendship is impossible with such a beast.

D.H. :

Innumberable owners of two-pants suits outside Luxembourg.

X :

A little Scottish dog (terrier? Is that what you call them?). Its a relationship beyond my understanding.

15. What does it do to fall asleep ?

A.S. :

Talk to itself.

D.C.B. :

Reminds itself that the progressive dinner is finally over, and that it was the last course (after the lungfish).

R.D. :

Jumps off till it spills it's milk.

R.B. :

Many butterknives will pass before.

B.F. :

It deflates marshmallows.

G.S. :

Drinks pastis.

J.A. :

Slices razors across skin to penetrate realities.

M.K.S. :

It counts candy stains on its toes.

I.E.

: It stops swimming

H.C. :

leaves one eye open

P.H. :

Crashes its car into the bank of missed opportunities.

T.C. :

It rubs its tummy and curls around a can of Campbell�s soup.

B.J.E. :

It only sleeps by accident or medical defect.

D.H. :

Lick Julia Roberts' vagina until she farts tiny cardboard Hitlers.

X :

It does not sleep, but it slows down a lot in winter or in snow.

16. Could it possibly be used as an explosive, and how ?

A.S. :

Dressed in makeup and lingerie, it could hide in the Pope's chambers in the Vatican.

D.C.B. :

Light it with Edison's wicks (it is not much worse than a firecracker, at which the women are quite aroused).

R.D. :

No explosion can force it's will. Lies in spheres to a mother's milk pump.

R.B. :

No, it can only implode when it is neglected.

B.F. :

Only when mixed with the First Communion.

G.S. :

The white lie is always an explosive, detonating the imagination and lighting powder trails of magic circumstance.

J.A. :

Under the wet covers, like a beautiful grammatical error, seized by spikes.

M.K.S. :

It is rarely so overheated, but is remotely possible, in an interpersonal context.

I.E.

: Never

H.C. :

Most certainly. If a white lie is careless, it is going to get more than singed! It will end in tears.

P.H. :

Yes, when combined with yellow journalism and blue laws.

T.C. :

It could if you put it up your ass and shoot it out on Thursday (my special day) at 3pm.

B.J.E. :

It can be incendiary only in the most mundane situations.

D.H. :

Yes. Irradiate its buttocks with cesium and pack it in Reno tart essence.

X :

Not really. I don't know if anyone has tried. This requires further investigation, although there is a theory about Napoleon, the Sphinx' nose, and this thing of ours...

17. Could you ever be confident with it and why ?

A.S. :

We get along quite infamously!

D.C.B. :

No, it is a traitor (though an intimate of the Rosenbergs).

R.D. :

When it is a wagon or tripe pear, I could actually medicate it.

R.B. :

Only when a Native American holds it.

B.F. :

Confidence is a non-issue.

G.S. :

Most definitely - It is in my nature.

J.A. :

There are 44 other reasons not to be.

M.K.S. :

Belief creates temporary reality, so tentatively, yes.

I.E.

: Yes because you only have your own failings to fear

H.C. :

I am confident as long as it is on my side. A white lie against you can be a terrible enemy though. Never underestimate its destructive nor healing powers.

P.H. :

No, because I'm never confident about anything.

T.C. :

I'm resentful of the question - I am - What was the question again?

B.J.E. :

No, it's too arrogantly condescending.

D.H. :

I approach it from the East, an entire eco-structure wrapped in the clog of my hand.

X :

Oh hell yes! Its harmless, its mostly useless, more an ornament thatn anything. Unless you're Egyptian and know ancient ways of alchemy, then things can turn ugly. But most of us are not like that, so its useless really. Just keep it out of your bed, and don't lift it above your head.

18. What means would you use to calm it ?

A.S. :

I'd caress it with a feather until it resembled a sleeping swan.

D.C.B. :

Stroke it gently with a very fine wand.

R.D. :

Pornography.

R.B. :

Horses.

B.F. :

Rub it with a feather.

G.S. :

A tune on my mandolin.

J.A. :

Pet its bowels with lemons.

M.K.S. :

Slap its ears a few times, then blow on the slap-marks.

I.E.

: Offer it sacrificial lambs, or a kebab

H.C. :

Avoid all mothers

P.H. :

Stroke it with a kitten, then bash the back of its head with a skillet.

T.C. :

I'd bounce it off the moon and dandle it on my knee and call it "my pretty sweety".

B.J.E. :

White wine always works.

D.H. :

Nerve Gas and a box of chocolates.

X :

It IS calm. You could kick it now and then, but it IS calm. Its an ornament!

19. Did it ever appear in your dreams and if yes in which way ?

A.S. :

It appeared in my dreams once, as Antonin Artaud climbing a large white wall.

D.C.B. :

No.

R.D. :

No.

R.B. :

To the Right.

B.F. :

No.

G.S. :

Yes - most recently, I think, as Castle Hadrspendr, an enormous edifice with a waterfall hidden in one of Southampton's long vanished Georgian squares.

J.A. :

There was a storm, ships sank, and we underwent surgery to forget the tragedy.

M.K.S. :

It avoids dreams under intense psychic pressure.

I.E.

: I do not dream, reality is too strong to allow this

H.C. :

It exists partially through dreams. It is the believing in them that makes them so.

P.H. :

It appears as a crisp nurse's uniform.

T.C. :

It appeared last Wednesday (my special day) as a dancing beer can.

B.J.E. :

It erases my dreams upon awakening - so i don't know.

D.H. :

Who's that old man wearing a grand piano for a condom?

X :

Not that I remember - not while sleeping it didn't. Its with me now though, and I AM dreaming in a way... and you have provoked me to dream it!

20. What would you do to keep it away from your bed ?

A.S. :

Treat my lover with respect.

D.C.B. :

Have a woman from Jakarta in my bed. Her weight would prevent it.

R.D. :

Sleep standing in three inches of it's yeast mold.

R.B. :

Cry "Havoc" and kill the King.

B.F. :

Chain it to the planet Mars.

G.S. :

I would bedeck the iron bedstead with raw meat.

J.A. :

Shoo it with some ghetto verse.

M.K.S. :

Feed it stories from Readers Digest or TV Guide.

I.E.

: Set the bed on fire

H.C. :

Scream the truth at it until it evaporates

P.H. :

I would keep a burning Klansman in my room.

T.C. :

I don't want to keep it away from my bed. I want it to come to my bed on Friday (my special day) at 3pm. It's provided me with more joy, more contentment and more bliss than I've ever known.

B.J.E. :

Invite it in.

D.H. :

Surround my bed with powdered presidents.

X :

ANYTHING AND EVERYTHING YOU CAN!!!!!!!!! This is very important, DO NOT put it in your bed! EVER! First there's the smell of cucumbers, and then... ugh...

21. If it comes to a feast how will you recognize it ?

A.S. :

It will be carrying the Saint San Gennaro on it's shoulders.

D.C.B. :

"Please enter" (but I will keep one eye on the cutlery).

R.D. :

I would not attend any feast with such a yeast!

R.B. :

It's tatooed back will be invisible to the jester's dog.

B.F. :

Its shaped like the state of Georgia.

G.S. :

By the dilation of its pupils.

J.A. :

The trumpets will be playing nights in white satin and we may all die slowly

M.K.S. :

It eats candles, wax, soap, etc.

I.E.

: It will be the one carrying a spoon

H.C. :

Somehow, the camofage always looks a little off

P.H. :

It would be disguised as a sleeping poppy.

T.C. :

It will be the man dressed in a tumor carrying a can of sardines and his severed limbs that he flails about.

B.J.E. :

It eats more than any other guest.

D.H. :

By its squid-colored watermark.

X :

Well, it'd have to be carried around, and it is quite large (around 1.2m - 4ft), so I guess it'll be recognisabel. It has no role in the feast though, but it has been used to serve the soup out of by some French royalty around the Renaissance...

22. Is it religious ? If it is, then, what will you do if it's catching ?

A.S. :

Have my doctor prescribe me some Cipro.

D.C.B. :

It murmurs prayers when in extreme distress. Apart from the phenomena of foli-a-deux it is not contagious.

R.D. :

Spilled milk.

R.B. :

All religions are built on lies, both black and white, catching them is another matter entirely.

B.F. :

No.

G.S. :

No - religion is inimical to its free-thinking and inventive nature.

J.A. :

There will be nine different versions of the religion, all of which will inflict itself upon the entire world and a great famine will be succumbed only by a greater disease yet of infinite plagues.

M.K.S. :

It's self-religious only, the reverse of contagious.

I.E.

: It preaches but does not judge, if it is catching I would smear myself in marmalade

H.C. :

Religious? Would you like it to be? It could be. It both is and isn't. Who is it speaking to? No need to worry about catching as it mutates to suit you.

P.H. :

Lies and whiteness are preponderant in religion. The only cure for these people and things is to lure them onto the pages of a large book then slam it shut.

T.C. :

I will fall down on my face and lick it from the tip of its toes to the top of its head and sing Hosannas.

B.J.E. :

Fanatically. If it were catching I'd throw it harpoons.

D.H. :

It is a Remorseful Presbyterian, and so I always wear urine-soaked gloves in its presence.

X :

This one is difficult. It has its own religion, but the worshippers are all gone now. Since it cannot speak (except that murmur that you can only hear when everything's still), it can't really convert. Then again, I may have fallen for it already and don't know it... Praised be the lie, maybe... !

23. What would you do to get rid of it ?

A.S. :

Invite it to a slide show hosted by the Talieban.

D.C.B. :

Perform an exorcism. The priest would have to wear white.

R.D. :

King

R.B. :

Send the well-bucket to a satellite uplink.

B.F. :

Dip it in honey.

G.S. :

I would attach it to driftwood and set it floating in the sea.

J.A. :

Hurl the body of Gwyneth Paltrow into its vortex.

M.K.S. :

Tell the rude truth especially when it hurts, like a dart entering a dartboard first thing in the morning.

I.E.

: Buy a prostitute

H.C. :

Again - scream the truth at it until it evaporates. This does not have to be done out loud.

P.H. :

I would play some old Wombles records. That always clears the house.

T.C. :

Is this ever going to end? Who's doing this to me? What's the question again?

B.J.E. :

Drown in a pail of rancid vegetable oil.

D.H. :

Hit it with a tea infuser.

X :

Bury it. Dump it in the desert. Sell it at this really big second-hand shop here in Melbourne (Chapel St Bazaar).

24. Could you ever hate it and why ?

A.S. :

I could never hate my little schatze.

D.C.B. :

I hate it intensely but I do not know why we are always reconciling.

R.D. :

Oh yes! I deserve a priviledge.

R.B. :

Hate stands at the centre of the vine whereon drops of venom grow.

B.F. :

I don't know.

G.S. :

No - it is too appealing.

J.A. :

The hate is transcended and consumed by its fury, no less greater than ten thousand goblins that stand 22 feet tall and are made of Illuminati Stone.

M.K.S. :

It can create tangled futures and out-of-tune operas on decomposing pianos..

I.E.

: Never

H.C. :

It is difficult to hate "forgive it for it knows not what it does"

P.H. :

I could hate it if it tied up too much of my time.

T.C. :

YES! I hate it deeply, purely and completely to the bottom of my groin to the tip of my hair.

B.J.E. :

Certainly. Just because

D.H. :

No! It is the cutest girl in the submarine.

X :

No, I don't think so. It's kind of useless. I may grow bored of it, but not hate it.

25. Could you ever eat it and how ?

A.S. :

With synthetic honey and a splattering of Lark's marrow.

D.C.B. :

With a knife and fork. It is extremely delicious.

R.D. :

Only with someone else's mouth.

R.B. :

with some fava beans and a good chianti.........

B.F. :

Dip it in honey.

G.S. :

A White Lie in a White Pudding might make a tasty breakfast.

J.A. :

It has already eaten us twice.

M.K.S. :

It's too full of wax to taste good.

I.E.

: Yes, maybe with cheese, relish and a sesame bun

H.C. :

It does make very nice breakfast in bed so I think I'd rather not.

P.H. :

Everything tastes better with potatoes.

T.C. :

I could eat it on Saturday (my special day) at 3pm by rolling it in grass and dipping it in Pamela Anderson's pubic hair, then rubbing it on Barrett's ass and coating it in chocolate.

B.J.E. :

Now you're getting too personal.

D.H. :

Yes, dressed in a sprig of post-war weariness.

X :

Oh no no no! My teeth would break before I could take a bite! It's hard! Very hard! And besides, why eat an ornament? Curious notion, but rather silly... Unless you're that French guy who eats aeroplanes and bicycles and such... never understood him either...

Questions composed by Pierre Petiot and Zazie