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The Near Death Experience of a Lifetime

 

 

 

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The Near Death Experience of a Lifetime

By

Felso Pooms

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Copyright © 2015 by Felso Pooms.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law.

ISBN 978-0-9943929-0-9 (EPUB)

Table of contents

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Other books in the Turps series

About the author

Acknowledgements

Prologue

 

Once upon a time, the Earth was a very busy place. It was overcrowded with people. There were so many people:

3 families had to share the same apartment,

70 children were squashed into the same classroom,

140 people squeezed into each and every bus.

 

It was hard to find a spare seat in a restaurant and kicking a ball at the park was impossible for all the people sitting around it. There were so many people, it was getting hard to find enough food for everyone.

 

The Earth wasn’t a very nice place to live.

 

Amongst this overcrowded Earth was an extraordinary boy called Turpentine Dessert DeBoosh, or Turps for short. He lived with his beautiful parents in a strange place called Tontinoonski. It was both a city and a country at the same time. In fact, it was called a Kingdom, because the person in charge was a King. His name was King Flirty Shirtpacker. King Flirty ruled over 42.9845 million people, crammed into an area the size of a large crop farm. However, unlike a farm, it had no grass or trees. It didn’t even have soil, because it wasn’t on land. Tontinoonski was a floating city, built on top of old disused ships that had been chained together. They built the city on the ocean because there was no more room left on the mainland for people to live. Buildings and apartment blocks were erected on top of the ships’ decks. People travelled from one ship to another using gangways, ladders and sometimes escalators. The larger ships were connected by a cable car system. It had schools, hospitals, shopping malls and cinemas just like every other city. And just like every other city on Earth, it was terribly overcrowded. Turps and his parents had to live with 2 other families in an apartment on the third upper deck of an old river paddle steamer. But luckily for them, they were very nice families.

 

One day, something horrible happened.

 

 

 

Chapter 1

 

Turps was having a bath with 2 children from the other families they were living with (even the baths were overcrowded) when he told his mum he had a headache. She gave him some ichiopoculus medicine and put him to bed early that night.

The following morning when his family sat down to breakfast, Turps wasn’t there. His mother went to check on him in his bed. She shook his shoulder, but Turps didn’t wake up. She shook him again, but he still didn’t wake up. His father grumbled up the stairs into Turps’ bedroom and gave him a BIG shake. But he still didn’t wake up. His mother and father were getting anxious. They checked his wrist for a pulse. Yes, his heart was beating. They put their hand in front of his mouth. Yes, he was breathing. Phew! He was alive, but why wouldn’t he wake up?

 

Turps’ father called the paramedics. They took a long time to arrive, because they had to weave their way through the overcrowded paths and gangways on foot. Finally, they knocked on the front door. Turps’ mother opened the door and rushed them upstairs to the bedroom. One of the paramedics shook him and waited for him to wake up. But he didn’t. The other paramedic gave him a BIG shake, but he still didn’t wake up.

“We tried that,” said his father impatiently.

The paramedics stared at Turps, scratched their heads and shrugged their shoulders.

“He won’t wake up,” they said to each other.

“Oh brother,” sighed his father.

“We need to get him to hospital.”

“Well, hurry up, you buzzards!”

 

The two paramedics propped Turps onto their shoulders like pallbearers carrying a coffin and sprinted through the maddening crowds. When they arrived at the hospital, they plonked him onto a bed next to another lady. They had to share, because the hospital was so overcrowded. The woman was terribly fat and took up most of the bed, leaving poor Turps to balance on the mattress’ edge. She was moaning that her ankle was numb and wouldn’t move. She’d been stung by a blue-ringed octopus earlier that morning.

“Shame it didn’t sting your tongue,” grumbled Turps’ father. She slapped his thigh so hard with her flabby arm, it left a pink hand mark on the skin, just below his shorts. It stung worse than a blue-ringed octopus! He didn’t dare to speak to the fat old bat again.

Three old and ugly doctors shuffled over to the bed. They inspected Turps, did some tests, but couldn’t work out what was wrong with him. They inspected him some more, did some more tests, but still didn’t know what was wrong. They scratched their heads, mumbled to each other and even argued for a while, but this didn’t help. They couldn’t understand why Turps wouldn’t wake up. His parents were panicking. Meanwhile, Turps’ body lay motionless on the bed.

 

The ugly doctors yelled at a radiographer to do an MRI scan of Turps’ brain. They had completely run out of ideas and were desperate to try something. Anything. Turps’ limp body was moved onto a cold stainless steel stretcher bed with his head dangling over the edge. They shoved him into a huge donut-shaped MRI scanner a little less carefully than his parents would have liked. Everyone vacated the room, leaving Turps alone.

 

The radiographer turned on the massive magnet from the adjacent room and the MRI machine hummed to life. Shortly after, black and white images of Turps’ brain appeared on a computer monitor. At first, everything seemed to be okay. His brain appeared to be functioning normally. The doctors told this to Turps’ parents and his father exploded;

“Normal? What do you mean, normal? He’s as good as dead!”

His mother cried.

 

Suddenly, a ‘bong’ sound emanated from the MRI machine and a flash of red-orange pixels appeared on the computer image of Turps’ brain. That was curious. The doctors asked Turps’ mother to cry again. She did, and the same ‘bong’ sound and red-orange flashes returned. The doctors scratched their heads, scrutinised the MRI images and mumbled to each other for some time. Eventually, the oldest and ugliest doctor shouted “Aha.” He turned to Turps’ parents and said:

“Madam, Sir, your son is alive and well. Well, reasonably well. At least his body and most of his brain is. You see, he’s locked-in.”

“Locked-in? What the hell does that mean?” his father yelled.

“Locked-in means your son is conscious, awake, thinking and can hear everything we are saying to him. He just can’t respond or move any part of his body. Most of his brain is working fine, except for the bit that controls his body movements. The brain stem at the back of the brain, or top of the spinal cord. The neurons, or brain cells, there have died, so he can’t move any part of his body. But the rest of his brain is good. So, in effect, your son is trapped inside his own body.”

 

Turps’ mother burst out crying and his father punched the doctor in the stomach (but later apologised). They were extremely worried about their son. Meanwhile, Turps’ body lay prone inside the MRI machine. His face expressionless, almost peaceful. Looking at him, you’d think he was completely unflustered by recent events. But actually, he’d heard everything the doctor had said and he was completely terrified.

 

Chapter 2

 

The following morning, five unusually small men in white coats and plastic safety goggles arrived in Turps’ hospital room. They introduced themselves as;

Sanjeev

Graham

Vladimir

Steve

and Stevie.

 

They explained they were scientists sent by King Flirty to help their son. A glimmer of hope spread across the face of Turps’ mother, although his father was suspicious.

“Hang on. How did King Flirty find out about our son,” he asked. The short scientists glanced uneasily at each other.

“Nevermind that,” Turps’ mother dismissed her husband. “Can you get my son’s body working again?”

“Oh no,” scoffed Graham, the cocksure scientist. “That’s impossible. Once that part of your brain is dead, you can’t get it back. Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Well, what the hell can you do, pipsqueak? And make it good, or I’ll fold you up into a parcel and post you to hurty-hurty land,” threatened his father. That wiped the smug look off Graham’s face.

“Er, yes. Quite. Sorry. We’re here to unlock your son’s brain from his flaccid body. We want to put it into a cat.”

Turps’ father got up from his chair and marched angrily towards the scientist. “Get the stamps ready, Love. I’m taking this idiot to the post-office!”

“No, No. Wait. Hear us out,” Graham spluttered, holding up his hands in surrender. “We don’t want to put his actual brain into a cat’s head. It wouldn’t fit. That would be ridiculous.”

“If you say ridiculous one more time….” grimaced Turps’ father.

“Sorry,” said Graham with a nervous gulp. He continued a little more cautiously. “As I was saying, we don’t want to put his actual brain inside a cat’s head. We want to connect it to a cat’s brain, wirelessly of course, so that he can move about and sense the world through the cat as if he was actually there.”

 

Silence enveloped the room as Turp’s parents and the doctors tried to digest this.

“Let me explain:

*
p<>{color:#000;}. The son you know and love is still inside his brain.

*
p<>{color:#000;}. It’s just that he can’t control his body or mouth to communicate with you.

*
p<>{color:#000;}. What we want to do is link his brain to a computer, then link another computer to a cat’s brain.

*
p<>{color:#000;}. Your son’s computer would then link wirelessly to the cat’s computer to exchange information with it.

*
p<>{color:#000;}. He could send information to control its movements. Make it go and do whatever he wanted it to do.

*
p<>{color:#000;}. In return, he would receive vision from the cat’s eyes so he could see where he was going. Sound from its ears. Touch, smell and taste.

*
p<>{color:#000;}. It would be just like actually being there. In effect, giving your son a new body.”

 

“The body of a cat?” Turps’ father gasped incredulously.

“Well ….. yes. I suppose so. What do you think?”

“I think you’re nuts,” his mother said. The unsightly doctors were flabbergasted. Everyone was bewildered.

“Perhaps we should let Turps decide,” offered Vladimir, the quietest scientist. “We could connect him to our computer to get his answer.”

“What? You mean we can communicate with him? Here? Now? Then do it. Quickly!” insisted Turps’ mother.

“No, we can’t do it straight away. That would be ridic…..” Vladimir caught a menacing glance from Turps’ father and stopped just in time. “Er….. It’s a very complicated procedure and will take a long time. But we could start now,” Vladimir continued. Turps’ mother and father stared at them for some time. Eventually, his mother said, “Well, get on with it!”

 

Chapter 3

 

After one and a half years of hard work by the miniature scientists, Turps’ brain was finally linked by thousands of wires to a computer and some stereo speakers. They were ready to attempt communication with Turps. In a rare moment of emotional insightfulness, the small scientists thought it would be appropriate for his parents to speak to him first.

“Hello Turps. Can you hear me?” asked his mother.

Static hissed from the computer’s speakers, followed by a gurgle and a noise that sounded like a burp. Then nothing.

“Turps, can you hear me? Please?” urged his mother.

More static and burps from the speakers. Eventually, they heard a single word;

 

“Yes.”

 

Cheers exploded in the room like fireworks. It had worked. The pint-sized scientists had successfully unlocked Turps from his organic prison. His parents were overcome with excitement. It was as though their son had gone sailing around the world, alone on dangerous seas, but finally returned to the harbour where they had been waiting for him the whole time.

How are you?”

Are you okay?”

Do you need anything?”

What’s it like being stuck inside your body?”

Does it hurt?”

What do you miss the most?”

 

Turps and his parents had a lot of catching up to do. They spent many hours in excited conversation. Turps’ mum cried a lot, but with tears of happiness. Even his father had a massive lump in his throat. Eventually they got round to the vital question; “Do you want your brain to be linked to a cat?” Turps had heard all of the conversations that had taken place over the previous year and a half and he had had a long time to think about it. Now, for the first time, he was able to respond. He replied with a question; “What sort of cat?”

 

The puny scientists were surprised by his answer. “Well …. er …. um …. Why? Does it matter?”

“I want a panther.”

“A panther? You’re kidding! You can’t have a panther. That’s ridic….” Graham quickly remembered that Turps father was in the room and clarified his answer. “Well…. you see…. panthers are very dangerous. It might harm members of the public. I don’t think it would be appropriate.”

“You could clip its claws back and take its teeth out,” Turps suggested.

The undersized scientists nattered amongst themselves. “It is most irregular.”

“What exactly is regular about this whole mess,” Turps’ father hissed.

They shrugged their shoulders, thought for a bit, then relented, “Okay, okay. I wonder where we could get one?”

“I have another question,” interrupted Turps. “How did King Flirty find out about me and my illness? I mean, there are millions of people in Tontinoonski. How did he know I was sick? And why does he care?”

“Er…..well…..um…. We don’t know. We can’t say,” they lied. “Perhaps you could ask him yourself one day. He is very interested in you and I’m sure he’d love to meet you,” said Steve the slightly taller but still short scientist. Turps was flattered by the King’s attention, but also suspicious.

 

Chapter 4

 

The shrimpish scientists ‘borrowed’ (stole) a panther from Tontinoonski Zoo. They toiled day and night, trying to link a computer to the panther’s brain. No-one had ever done this type of thing before and it was a very hard thing to do. It was especially hard to remove the circuits that control the cat’s instinct to mark its territory (i.e. urge to wee on anything that’s new).

 

Finally, after 7 years of hard work, the dwarfish scientists and their computers were ready. The panther sat patiently in a cage on the other side of Turps’ hospital room. It was already connected to its own computer and seemed rather uninterested in proceedings, rolling onto its back and giving a big yawn. In contrast, the tiny scientists and doctors anxiously huddled around Turps’ body. His parents were very frightened. They tried to reassure their son and said he didn’t have to go through with it if he didn’t want to. This shocked the Lilliputian scientists and they began to protest.

“What? No way! What about all our hard work? Seven years. I’d like to see what you could do in seven years ……”

An old and ugly doctor tutted at them and told them to be quiet. Stevie didn’t like this, so he kicked him in the shin. The hopping doctor yelled for a nurse to remove Stevie from the ward. Another doctor grabbed Graham and Vladimir by their lab coat collars and held them off the ground. Meanwhile, Sanjeev and Steve grabbed a roll of bandage tape and wrapped it around the doctors’ ankles. Soon enough, they all fell in a hopeless heap onto the ground and started wrestling.

 

Turps’ parents ignored the bickering twits and focused on their son. Turps himself appeared calm as he lay motionless on the hospital bed. But on the inside, his stomach was performing cartwheels and his heart was pumping faster than a piston in a formula 1 engine. He hadn’t anticipated how terrifying it would be. He tried to summon up some courage;

“I’m ready…. I think. Yes…. yes, I’m ready,” he said shakily through the computer speaker.

The quarrelling doctors and wee scientists untangled themselves and returned their attention to Turps. Sanjeev, the scientist with a lisp, was the first to speak to Turps.

“We will have to sedate you and the panther, then synchronise computers while you are both asleep,” he said. “When you wake up, you will receive sensory input from the panther. I must warn you, this could be quite a shock and could induce severe convulsions that could melt your brain.”

“What?! You didn’t mention that a year ago!” roared Turps’ father.

“Dad. Dad. Relax. I’ve been stuck inside this body for a long time now and it has been hell. I want to get out now. I’m ready for this. I want to try. Let’s do it,” said Turps as bravely as he could.

 

Anaesthetic was pumped into Turps’ arm and he sunk into the deepest, most peaceful sleep he had had in years. He had lots of dreams. Vivid dreams. He dreamt that everything would turn out okay. But after 2 and a quarter hours, he was urgently woken by the doctors. They had injected him with an antidote to the anaesthetic and added some adrenaline to help kick-start his consciousness. Something had gone wrong.

“Turps. Turps. We need you to wake up. Can you hear me?” pleaded the ugliest doctor. Turps had a splitting headache. He wanted to tell the doctor to stop shouting at him because it was hurting his head. He tried to speak through his computer speakers, but it didn’t work. He couldn’t hear the computer-synthesised voice that he had become used to over the past 8 years.

 

Oh dear.

 

Why wasn’t it working?

Had he lost the ability to communicate?

Was he locked-in again?

Had the procedure failed?

 

Right at that moment, the panther rolled off its back, stuck its arm through the bars of the cage and scratched the leg of the old doctor with its claw. The doctor let out a yelp of pain, but everyone else in the room erupted in cheers of relief. Turps was horribly confused. So was his father.

 

Eventually, the cheering died down and everyone stopped giving each other high fives. They returned their attention to Turps. His mother was the first to speak.

“Oh Turps, my darling. We’ve got great news for you. It’s working….. I think. I’ll let the petite scientists explain.”

Graham the cocksure scientist took over. “Yes, it’s true, Turps. It’s worked! Your brain computer is now successfully connected to the panther’s computer and you can control its movements. In fact, you already have. You made the panther reach out and scratch that ugly doctor’s leg.” The ugly doctor looked annoyed. “Also, I think you tried to talk, because we heard a yawning noise coming from the panther. But don’t worry. It’s going to take some time and practice for you to become comfortable with this system. You will have to train yourself to control the panther’s movements.” There was another yawn came from the big cat.

“I think he’s trying to talk,” said Turps’ father.

“Yes, I agree,” said Graham. “Turps, you are now able to speak through the panther. We inserted a speaker in its throat for you to talk with. But we had to change the settings a bit, so you will have to get used to them. By the way, you are hearing my voice through the ears of the panther. You should also be able to feel, smell and taste using its senses. We expect this to cause a sensory overload in your brain that might cause a mild headache, but we expect it will disappear in time.”

The panther’s throat-speaker grunted.

“We’ll take that as a ‘yes’ about the headache,” inferred Graham. “And now for the final step, we will take off the blind fold from the panther’s eyes. As soon as we do, you will receive visual input for the first time in 8 years. It might be a bit of a shock. Are you ready for this, Turps?”

Another grunt came from the panther’s throat.

 

“Okay then. Here we go.”

 

Vladimir put his arms through the bars of the cage and removed the blindfold. Immediately, shards of light speared into Turps’ brain like harpoons into a fish. Polka dots of different colours poked through the black background that had surrounded Turps for so long. They grew wider and started to meld into one another, emerging as a sphere of brilliant white light. Then shadows ran across the white sphere. These resolved into proper shapes. They were the shapes of ……. people.

 

Turps was excited. He was about to see his parents again.

 

Suddenly, everything went black again. Oh no. Worse, a horrible taste and smell exploded in Turps’ head. He panicked.

 

Had something gone wrong with the sensory input circuits?

Had they become short-circuited and mixed-up?

Had the intense visual input frizzled the other circuits?

Had it melted his brain?

 

Just when he was about to see his beautiful parents again, the chance had been cruelly plucked away from him.

 

Then, as suddenly as it arrived, the horrible taste and smell vanished and vision began to return. Shapes reappeared, although Turps couldn’t quite make out what they were. He desperately hoped to see his parents again.

 

But oh no!

 

Everything went black again and the horrible smell/taste returned. Although not for as long, this time. His vision quickly returned and he could just make out a round, fleshy object surrounded by fuzzy black fur. Turps recognised what he was looking at. The panther’s bum! Yuk! The panther had been sticking his head deep between his hind legs and was cleaning his private parts with his tongue! Disgusting! Well, quite normal for a cat he supposed, but disgusting for a human to endure. Turps made a note to himself to make sure he never lets that happen again!

 

Then something else happened. Squatting just outside the cage he saw two beautiful people with tears in their eyes. It was his parents. They looked just as lovely as they had 8 years ago (not really – Turps was just being polite). He wanted to give them a big hug, but of course he couldn’t. The panther wasn’t allowed out of the cage. Well, at least not yet. He would have to settle for telling them he loved them, which he did, although his attempt to say it through the panther’s speaker sounded more like burps. Speaking would take some more practice. But overall, the procedure had been a great success. Turps’ brain had been connected wirelessly to the panther’s brain. He could see through its eyes, as well as smell and taste, although his first experience of those senses wasn’t very pleasurable. He was even beginning to feel the cold floor of the metal cage through the panther’s paws. The full house of 5 senses was coming back to him. The last thing left for him to do was to make the panther move.

 

Chapter 5

 

Turps spent the next 5 months training his brain to control the movements of the big cat. This required a lot of concentration to start with and made him very tired. But over time, it became easier and easier, and he became better and better at it.

 

One day, it clicked. Like two cogs in a gearbox slotting into synchrony with each other. Turps was able to guide the movements and behaviour of the panther as if it were his own body. Turps was very pleased. The microscopic scientists were very pleased, too. After all, it was a world first – a great technological advancement. No one had ever used their brain to control another animal. They were breaking new ground. Everyone felt confident that Turps had mastered full control of the big cat. Therefore, …..….. it was time to let it out of its cage.

 

They carefully opened the door and quickly retreated to safety behind a wall. Sanjeev was carrying a ‘taser gun, just in case something went wrong. They watched as Turps tentatively walked the panther out of the cage using only his brainpower.

 

It stood free in the middle of the hospital room.

 

Everyone was nervous.

 

Unexpectedly, the panther reared up onto its hind legs, standing taller than a human. It bent its knees and splayed its front legs like a ballerina. The panther was doing a curtsy!

 

Everyone cheered. Turps clearly had complete control of the big black cat. So much so, his friends and family felt comfortable enough to emerge from behind the wall.

 

Turps instructed the panther to do 3 things:

1) He carefully padded his way over to his parents and gave them a big hug with his new big paws. He licked their cheeks with the panther’s huge abrasive tongue, leaving a bucket-load of saliva on their faces and a stain on his mother’s blouse.

 

2) He moved over to the bed that his human body was lying on and used the cat’s claw to scratch the side of his lower back, just above his left hip. He gave it a really good scratch, for a long time. He scratched out an itch that had been bothering him for the last year and a half. It felt unbelievably good, although it was a weird experience feeling one of his bodies scratching another.

 

3) He turned towards the mini scientists and snarled at them threateningly. He huddled them into a corner of the room, rose up onto his hind legs and struck out at them, narrowly missing Vladimir. He frightened the impish scientists and he meant it. He wanted something from them and he wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer.

 

How did you hear about my illness 8 years ago and why did you come to help me?” he roared out of the speaker in the panther’s throat. He had asked this question many times before, but the elfin scientists had always avoided answering. Now, he had a huge, muscled body with big claws to force an answer out of them. A ghastly doctor tried to calm the situation down, but Turps’ panther struck out and slammed him into a wall. Turps was angry and determined to get an answer.

“Okay, okay. We’ll tell you,” relented Sanjeev.

“You see, it’s like this. As you know, Tontinoonski is terribly overcrowded with people. It isn’t the best place to live, but it used to be much worse. Something had to be done. So the King made a dreadful decision. So dreadful, he kept it a secret. A secret that only he and his scientists (us) would ever know. And the secret was this:

 

When babies in Tontinoonski receive their vaccinations, they also receive a secret gene. A gene that we designed. It becomes incorporated into each and every neuron (cell) in their brains. There it stays, dormant and harmless, until they grow up and become old. When they get really old, the secret gene becomes active and kills the neuron in which it was placed. As more and more neurons die, the person’s brain gradually dissolves and within a year or so the person is dead. With the sick and elderly people removed from society, there are fewer people left in Tontinoonski. Therefore, it reduces the overcrowding. And you have to admit, Tontinoonski is a better place to live in now than it was 20 years ago. There are less people in the walkways, parks, bingo halls, etcetera. In fact, there are less people everywhere. It’s easier to catch a cable car, eat at a restaurant, kick a ball in the park and even easier to breathe the air. Essentially, the King’s plan has worked.”

 

“Yes, but at what price? And what does this have to do with Turps?” asked his mother.

“Ah, well, for some reason, and we don’t know why, the gene was prematurely activated in Turps’ brain while he was still a boy. But only in the brainstem, killing the neurons in that part of his brain that controls his movements, meaning he couldn’t use his body anymore. This has never happened before. It is most disappointing,” said Steve the slightly taller yet still short scientist.

“Disappointing!” exploded Turps’ father.

“Calm down, Dad. I’ll sort this,” said Turps gently. “Later.”

 

Chapter 6

 

Turps grew more and more comfortable with his new body as time went on. After all, what’s not to like? He essentially had super-human powers. His ‘panther body’ was faster and stronger than any human. He could see in the dark, hear things a mile away, leap great distances and always land on his feet. He was also dashingly good-looking, with his jet-black fur and 6-pack of rippling muscles. But perhaps the best thing was he was essentially indestructible. If the cat was damaged or died, he could simply get a new one. It was as if he had 9 lives! Turps loved his panther.

 

He loved being a panther.

 

But it wasn’t easy for the locals to get used to the sight of a huge, black panther roaming around the ships and walkways where they lived. Some people turned white with fear and filled their underpants, while others wanted to pat the big, black kitty. Perhaps the strangest thing was watching the panther riding to school on a bike. It was the same bike Turps had ridden as a child, although the bitty scientists raised the pedals a bit for the panther’s short hind legs. Once at school, Turps usually sat the panther at the very front of the classroom to make his teachers feel nervous. The other children thought it was hilarious. But Turps’ favourite activity was racing the trifling scientists across Tontinoonski. They would take the cable cars and escalators, while Turps’ scampered the panther through the crowded alleyways at break-neck speed. Ducking and diving over street stalls, bouncing off walls and leaping across rooftops in a master class of urban rambling. Despite the best efforts of the nano scientists, Turps always won.

 

The panther was amazing.

 

But no matter how amazing it was, there was one thing it could never do. One thing that was even better than his current super cat powers. But something that was impossible for the panther to do. So he came up with an alternative plan. He summoned the paltry scientists back to the hospital room where his human and feline bodies were waiting for them.

“I have one more favour to ask of you,” Turps’ panther said to the pocket-sized scientists. “Can you please attach a computer to a bird for me?”

 

“I want to fly.”

 

The stunted scientists’ faces opened wide like dinner plates. They huddled together to discuss it. “Brilliant!” they chorused. “What a great idea. We’ll get back to you,” and they scurried out of the room, muttering excitedly to each other.

 

Well, it didn’t take them long. All of the procedures and equipment had already been developed for the panther, so it was simply a matter of miniaturizing the computer a little further and adapting it for a bird. They had great insight into what Turps wanted. After all, they had known him now for over 8 years. They chose for him an albatross. It was a great choice. An albatross can soar at great heights or low to the ground at high speed for hours and days on end without needing to come back down to the ground. Exactly what Turps wanted. In only 43 weeks, they presented the albatross with its inbuilt computer to Turps. They had to temporarily disconnect his connection to the panther while they linked him to the albatross. But this time, the synchronisation went smoothly and Turps was successfully connected to the bird without any fuss.

 

He didn’t wait around. Turps immediately waddled the albatross to the window of his hospital room and toppled it out. It plummeted towards the ocean. Air caught underneath its out-stretched wings, providing lift and the albatross glided across the water’s surface like the best paper glider ever made. He found a warm pocket of rising air and rode it high into the fluffy cloud layer. The thermal provided so much lift that Turps could roll the albatross onto its back without falling out of the sky. Turps had taken to flying like a duck to…… well, he flew the albatross very well.

 

Below him, Turps could see his home kingdom of Tontinoonski, bathed in beautiful spring afternoon sunlight. Countless ships and barges of differing sizes and conditions chained together, each of them crawling with people at work and play. Somewhere amongst them were his friends the runty scientists and his beautiful parents. But he didn’t go to see them. Instead, he made a bee-line for King Flirty Shirtpacker’s castle on the largest ship in Tontinoonski. Flirty was sitting on a balcony outside his bedroom on the tallest tower of the castle. He was drinking tea with a very pretty woman who wasn’t his wife. Turps conducted a reconnaissance flight by gliding high above them, noting their precise location, wind direction and smugness of the grin on King Flirty’s face. He then directed the albatross to circle back and fly in lower this time.

Just before he reached them and with precise aim, the bird released a payload of stinky, gooey poo. It accelerated through the air until it splattered on the King’s forehead. It smeared down his cheek and dripped onto the shoulder of his Royal dressing gown. Some faecal shrapnel also splattered into the King’s teacup just as he was about to drink from it.

 

A direct hit.

 

Flirty was furious and his lady friend was disgusted. But Turps was well pleased with himself. Anatomically speaking, birds shouldn’t be able to smile, but this one definitely did.

 

 

And so everyone lived happily ever after. Well, at least until they got old, that is……

 

The End.

Other books in the Turps series

 

The near death experience of a lifetime is Book 1 in the series.

 

Find out who is chasing Turps’ panther and why they will stop at nothing to capture him in Run for your life and watch out for the baristas (Book 3).

 

See what it’s like to be an alien and a ghost in Turps is out of this World! (Book 4).

 

All Turps eBooks available at Amazon, Smashwords and other distributors.

 

 

About the author

 

Felso Pooms was born in Scotland and moved to Sydney when he was 22.  He installs and repairs roofs all over Australia, New Zealand and even Macquarie Island in the deep Southern Ocean.  He has the unusual strategy of never coming down from a roof until the job is done.  If necessary, he sleeps there by hooking his legs over the apex and hangs upside down like a bat.  This is where he writes most of his stories.  Sometimes, when he runs out of paper, he writes on the roof tiles or corrugated iron.  So if you live in Australia or New Zealand (or Macquarie Island) and have had your roof repaired in the last 30 years, you might have a little bit of Turps above your house.

 

Contact Felso Pooms at [email protected]

 

 

Acknowledgements

 

Heartfelt love and gratitude to my beautiful wife, children and parents.  Special thanks to Mimi and Georgie for editing.  Thank you.


The Near Death Experience of a Lifetime

In an overcrowded Earth, Turpentine Dessert DeBoosh lives happily on the floating Kingdom of Tontinoonski. Until one day, a terrible accident happens, trapping him inside his own body. But thanks to the miraculous appearance of five dwarfish scientists and their clever technology, Turps is freed. Free to live a new type of life. A life very different to everyone else. A life more..….. furry! But was it an accident? Why did the pint-sized scientists suddenly appear? And why was King Flirty Shirtpacker so interested in Turps? Find out by reading ‘The Near Death Experience of a Lifetime.’

  • ISBN: 9780994392930
  • Author: Felso Pooms
  • Published: 2015-09-22 13:05:28
  • Words: 6013
The Near Death Experience of a Lifetime The Near Death Experience of a Lifetime