thechoklatfactory

Glamour Blood in Epidemica

In a small laboratory at the back of a chocolate factory, in a town called Epidemica, lived a scientist by the name of Dr Glitz. A slight man, barely five feet tall, he was rarely seen but it was often said that he dressed in a silver sequined suit and was consumed by the discovery he was in the midst of making. A revelation, he said, that would shake the world and make the world and change the universe forever, for it was an evolutionary find in preparation for the Revolution - the renaissance of universal fashion and style in a haematic, or bloody, kind of way.

You see, it was the discovery of a stream of blood laced with glitter that could be transfused into human beings that not only induced a state of absolute glamour but also a sexual release of volcanic proportions. It has indiscriminately traversed cultural boundaries causing much concern among the fashionista elite. Since its success, this so-called glamour blood has been found in ritzier segments of society but also has been camouflaged by what can only be described as ghastly fabrics, namely flannel, cotton, natural fibres of any description really, and a certain disposition identified as non-pretentious, or ‘earthy’.

As for me, I am reaching the end of a mission as my current life comes to a close. My arms are like lead. My eyes have cracked their steel. My hair is but a mere scouring pad all wiry and demented with knot. I'm burnt out, washed up, neurotic as hell and almost totally dysfunctional. False lashes droop from my eyes - gone all skewiff and I just can't adjust them! Fingernails, once all gleaming and glamorous, are now full of fungus from way too much polish. I've been glamoured out. I look like Liz and Loni, Jacko too and I think no! It’s just not fair. I didn't ask for my natural glamour to be synthetically enhanced. But the shot was given and I became trapped in the bondage of Dr Glitz - a warped and crazed glitter freak infecting innocent people with his glamour blood in Epidemica.

My annihilation was in the name of art, he told me, in the name of the Renaissance, the Revolution. I don’t think so. My annihilation was in the name of a fascist regime that dictated degree of aesthetic. I digress.

It was at a sleazy nightspot all seedy and smoky, just three months ago. I just happened to be there (don’t ask me why) and was wearing a long sequined gown simply swanning around when I felt a gust of wind then something flew into my ear.

‘You're perfect!’ the whisper enthused.

‘I beg your pardon,’ mid ear wipe, ‘do I know you sir?’

‘No, but you're absolutely perfect madam, just perfect!’ The beady little eyes met me for the first time.

I was used to such flattery and considered myself to be on the cutting edge of style and socially glamorous yes, it was in my blood, but not in the same vein as Dr Glitz who reeked of white trash fanaticism.

‘Well thanks for the compliment but...’

Dizziness then darkness hit and as I came to after an unidentified amount of time, my awareness was drawn to the set I had become an installation of. I was strapped flat to a black leather bench, tied with sequined belts, and made immobile by the doctor. He stood over me, face speckled with glee and stared for what seemed like forever, poking and prodding at any unwanted snippets of glamour he might detect. I was the first.

He had brought me to his lab and on a twice-daily basis he would hook me up and shoot me up with glitter, leaving me attached to a dripping bag of spangled goo that oozed through my blood. The effects can be described as little less than horrific.

At first I became quite high on the experimental jaunt and found myself in the most unusual of sexy styles sashaying around, feeling fabulous and exuding an attitude of scintillating sass. Hair glistened, nails gleamed, eyes glared with glitter and to be perfectly honest, the level of shimmer that emanated from within was unprecedented. I became magnetic.

All who came to visit as I lazed in my cage wanted to touch. I didn’t care. At times I would have to fight them from behind bars, stretching my claws and hissing with glitter spittle protrusions. Dr Glitz would often usher in an audience to view his latest project and while it seemed somewhat odd it really just hurt my head to think. I decided to ignore them all and lap up the adoration.

‘She’s a fine specimen, don’t you think chaps?’ he would boast to his colleagues, all of whom were mesmerised and unable to clearly think simply from gazing at my glamour.

‘Prototype for the New Dawn!’

The day arrived when I was set centre stage. All kinds of horrendous lights drowned me as the doctor made an announcement - to whom, I could not say, for I was obscured by the lime light, left to smile in vain and excrete pheremonal allure.

‘Ladies and gentleman, boys and girls,’ he sang like the swine I have come to know him as. ‘Please put your hands together for the devastatingly dashing and, if I do say so myself, supreme invention of gorgeous beauty, goddess of The Awakening - Ms Glitter Kitty Litter!’

It was quite strange, you must realise, because until that point I had never really understood who I was and, as much as the tainted identity messed with my mind, I truly felt a connection with my new name. Later I was to discover the scatological karma involved and demanded instant rectification, but for the moment I found bliss.

So off to a different dance floor I did dazzle, under strict instruction, and with complete obedience, each and every night until my name was but a whisper away. Dr Glitz scheduled my journey from the lab, keeping me under surveillance at all times, and successfully reeled in an abundance of recruits until the troupe was secured. His plan was coming together.

One by one, I was joined by several other unique specimens, all named according to his freakish intent - Princess Lolly-Pop Meow, Sex Intensity, Growling Tiger, Trashy Tart etcetera. An endless stream of bizarre identities appeared and performed. Some strutted willingly, others fought his vicious will, each eventually submitted to the tests and treatments. Glamour blood reigned supreme.

One full moon night, all was to be revealed. If it had not been for the fixed up state of us all we may have had some small chance but alas, t’was not to be.

The stage was strategically built, the lights danced like lightning and the make-up made masks for us all. Each of us were primed and preened, then placed in a cage to sit and await our fate as the seductive ones.

‘Again we find ourselves at a momentous occasion, ladies and gents,’ Dr Glitz began with cheer. ‘And in a few moments you will see before your very eyes what you have all been waiting for.’

Sounds of his lyrical but soulless voice kept floating in and out of my perception, as it seemed to be with my fellow friends. We lulled beneath the hot beams of light, looking divine but feeling rather deathly.The spotlight hit me like a shot.

‘You all remember the original, the one and only... although because she has responded well to the program, and due to a rebellious streak, she has been granted a change in name - Ms Glitter Supernova!’

The sound of clapping flooded the theatre as the audience swooned before me. My grin was forced and fake.

‘Well, we’ve been busy down in Epidemica and as part of the mission of social enlightenment I am now going to introduce our new members and let the play begin!’

Individually, the spot shone on the different cages. Silhouette figures were lit up, named and released.

‘Prepare for the unexpected, ladies and gents, and remember - do not try this at home! Only upon sustained instruction may you achieve what you are about to see.’

We were led to the arena and injected with serum, which felt oh so sublime. Pure lust dominated and aroused a romp of mighty momentum.
Apparently, it has been said, for my memory cannot account, that the proceedings involved an orgiastic scene of kaleidoscopic proportions. The report, as I later discovered upon sifting through the filing cabinets of my master’s abandoned laboratory, speaks of unmentionable acts:

"It is difficult to speak of the scene and while I cannot say how long it lasted I can reveal that the subjects were dressed in custom-made costumes designed for easy access. Immediately after I had injected them with the serum I could sense an intense excitement, which quickly moved among the others. The serum was of a triple strength to ensure that the dose would induce an extreme state.

Of course Ms Supernova took full control, choreographing the entire scene with a snap of her fingers. As every orifice was quickly filled they all remarkably gravitated toward the Supernova glow. An intense light began to grow first from her eyes and then from her entire body - a pinkish aura then developed into a powerful viridian with a thin white edge. As she opened her legs wider…"

That’s enough! Spare me my dignity please. The report goes on to describe how the audience lost control and began rampaging themselves. Sequined drapes were ripped from the stage and garments were torn as they hunted their own sexuality down, once hidden and scared, now ready to be captured in absolute glamour.

Dr Glitz was elated as he had cracked the profitable market of self-help and personal empowerment. He sat back and watched in amusement, for this was his social baby that had been gestating for decades. Now he felt like the proud parent of so many infants, mingling in madness among each other, desperate to learn the ways of his self-created world. Sexual chaos streamlined within the boundaries of socially accepted style and grace. On a global level, he instantly became renowned for his discovery of erotic self-healing through the powers of passionate fashion and began jet setting in his private jet, implanting all those who crossed his path along the way.

As for the crew of camp and stylised sex creatures ... well, let’s return to the night.

After the romp had elevated the lives of so many, the troupe and I were scraped from the floor, frothing and exhausted, to be returned to our backstage bondage. The following day in the laboratory, most perished due to an unsightly come down at the memory of who had done what with who, how and why, which, no doubt, worked in vicious combinations with the drugs. There was also the unsightly fact that we all looked a little less, well, fabulous that day. Where we had ended up in what seemed to be a reasonable life tormented our fragile minds… except for Growling Tiger and me. We fought for freedom and now seek revenge.

Our plan is not in vain, for we have the inside information to destroy Dr Glitz’s newly instated empire and to restore a little harmless glamour in our own diminished lives. Glitz is unaware. He has the almighty TV show, the film is in the making and the throngs have started bleating before his beady little eyes. The laboratory has been abandoned but not before we retrieved the necessary files to undo the devilish work he has done. A sense of urgency crawls beneath our skins.

In the time it has taken to recount the sequence of events thus far, I have managed to bravely redeem my previous state of beauty before a mirror – there is very little that could dispel my innate sense of glamour. Growling Tiger has just pulled up out front in the formerly Glitz-owned sports coupe and is honking the horn for me to join him. You must keep up and follow pace, as we are about to embark on a high-flying mission into the realms of radical fashion activism. Come!

‘Darling Glitter girl, what took you so long? We gotta jet babe!’

‘Don’t get growly on me tiger boy, I was just reminiscing. Have to collect my thoughts honey pie, or I just don’t know what’s goin’ on, ya know?’

‘Oh yeah…’

At high speed we now fly through the streets of Epidemica. Both dressed to impress, we look sensational and have a few surprises of our own tucked safely into shoulder pads and three quarter sleeves.

‘You got the schedule glitter girl?’

‘Yuhuh.’

Glitz was back for his hometown return - a banquet at the plush Glittery Hills Hotel. Growling Tiger and I have been plotting for weeks. We know his moves better than any – a product of time-endured bondage. A master is only as powerful as his slave is docile. We were, after all, two of his more placid creatures.

Growls screeches into the underground car park and as we wave our way convincingly past the guards, all security is accessed with a mere credit card filled with glitter. I smooth my hair and reapply gloss for full effect.

We march into the auditorium. People are milling around waiting excitedly for the show to begin. A buzz emanates while glitter sprinkles lightly in the air. Most are somewhat suited but all have shiny badges to show their belonging and their intent. As the lights dim and the curtains part the crowd grows quiet. There on the stage stands Dr Glitz spot lit in glittered glory. He looks less clinical with an entrepreneurial edge and hair styled to match his suave new fashion. This is our cue – we sneak backstage ready to re-ravel a rather unravelled state of affairs.

‘Ladies and gentlemen welcome to my homecoming seminar. I am sure you have heard much of my worldwide success in drawing out the essence of your true fabulousness. Innate glamour is in all of us and as you have seen on TV, this is a fool-proof program that can not only highlight the best in you but also reinvent your personality exactly how you wish!’

The audience sit captivated.

‘Allow me to introduce you to two of my freshest nubiles…’

But as the display lights up, instead of his new protégés stand Growling Tiger and me – we have intervened at a grass-root level. Doctor Glitz, with his back to us, is all too unaware.

‘If you care to lay your eyes on specimen A and specimen B you will see how wonderfully groomed and glamorous they are.’ Wand waving in general direction, still oblivious.

The spotlight illuminates our physiques, now not glitzed at all, but downtrodden. We wear sweatshirts and track pants, our hair scruffy, makeup smudged and eyes sunken into dark pools of black makeup. The audience gasp, although Glitz believes this to be out of delight.

‘As you can see, they are the ultimate in divinity and sensual supremacy – let them tell you for themselves what life is like under my amazing twelve step program.’

He sits in his throne, sipping from his goblet, ignorant of the rustling crowd. The microphones descend and the stage is at last ours. We move quickly to either side of Glitz, cuff him to the chair, at which point he suddenly realises all is not well.

‘What the..?’

We silence him with a shot of his own serum. The audience is stunned, not quite knowing what to do, but intrigued all the same. They were told to expect the unexpected.

‘Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Dr Glitz’s final public appearance. What you are about to see is a behind the scenes account of what really goes on in this mad man’s world and how you have all been conned into believing his “miracles”. Do not be fooled by our appearance, we are indeed style queens beneath, but this is the end result of his quick fix treatment – dreggery. What Dr Glitz fails to tell you is that glamour is something that you can’t buy by the bottle or, in this case, the hypodermic. It must be worked on over time and integrated into a natural state of being.’

Growling Tiger speaks. ‘Watch now as we administer exactly the same treatment to the good Dr himself and see for your self the disturbing outcome of such radical “advancements” in the field of fashion when given to unsuspecting individuals.’

In a matter of moments, Dr Glitz becomes a writhing, blubbering mess as the visual projections behind show footage of the atrocities suffered in his initial laboratory. Shock sweeps through the audience in whispers then shouting, booing and hissing. A petition circulates in an attempt to have Dr Glitz locked away for the safety of all. Our work has been done.

As soon as Supernova had injected the serum an extraordinary feeling began first to trickle into my arm like icy cold liquid creeping inside my veins. It was as if my blood had turned cold and I could definitely sense this at a cellular level. The sensation was not at all uncomfortable - quite the opposite. I felt a cold breeze gently breathe on my face followed by a strong sense of security and superiority. After approximately two minutes I began to feel an overwhelming burning in my groin, which intensified as the seconds passed. Then my mind began to melt, I could not think, I could not see, everything dissolved into pixelated holograms. I was at the mercy of the substance … and these crazed glamour freaks. I no longer have control.