#10117

"Pig on a Motorcycle" by Michael Stone

Clob's first installment deserves to be carved word for word onto a Himalayan cliff face, 14000 feet above sea level.  I'm thinking all-caps Garamond letters, thirty inches tall.  Michael Palin should read it aloud on a BBC Sunday night, wearing his khaki trousers and selling books like floodwater.

In case that is not clear: CLOB ROCKS.  Fantastic imagination, sympathetic character, fiery with style, solid plot conflict and action.  Here's the chiesel again, setting in stone a Mick Halpin seal of approval.

Then, behold!  Clob 2.  Thousands of honeybees swarmed with delight, in that wild country behind my feverishly-reading eyes.  Maybe a couple of pack jaguars as well, I don't know, it's a mad place.  Celebrations were held, with parades and zeppelin bars and enough java for everyone.  Hurrah!  "Pig on a Motorbike" proved the best sequel since "Alien Versus Predator."

(Don't knock AVP.  It's a lot of fun.)

Seriously, Mr. Stone: I'm glad to see you've lost none of your magic.  This story has heart.  It's original, it's genuinely funny, it ticks the requisite "twist at the end" short story box.  Great stuff!  

On the downside?  (There's always a downside.)

I'm not certain if POAM will inspire the same joy in a reader who has not read the introductory chapter.  Judge by crits from Clob newcomers.

Second--- in hindsight, POAM reads like a comic strip.  Calvin and Hobbes, for instance.  One of the week-long series where each day's episode builds to one grand goal.  Each segment can be read on its own, a get a laugh, but they all slot together.  I've no problems with this approach myself, but can see how some critics could equate Clob with funny-papers, and dismiss it.  

Some specific feedback on the submitted text... 

I scrambled along the highest branch that would bear my weight and gazed down on the heavenly body of Catherine Hewson.-- good first line, but it gives the impression that our narrator is a squirrel.   

...and whittled our names on a fallen tree.--- Not giving a specific answer to x+20= may prove a niggle for some readers.

"A problem as old as Man, that one.-- and always a great conflict for a story!  Solid choice of premise.  Nice!

Xavier Capdeville-- fantastic name!  &:)  Picking an apt handle's a task that trips me, always.

...despite all his protests that a tomtit wasn't the naughty kind of tit.-- &:)

'Born to Be Mild'--- didn't work for me.  The slight reads too much like a typo.

On his way back from the model train shop one of the tartan panniers came adrift on a roundabout and knocked a sprung buffer off a highly prized Fowler 4-P.-- I like the sound of this aside, but have no clue what it means.  Tartan sprung wha? 

I'd read in a book by Dr Desmond Morris---  OK, this is that Wednesday strip where the series sags in the middle.  Not all that informative or funny, a purist would push this segment toward the chopping block.  I think it's OK because it helps pile poor Leonard's troubles and colors a definite setting for the story. 

"GET OFF!"-- &:)

I put the leather jacket on-- Hmm, throw in a mention that it had flown off into the ditch.  Otherwise, readers may assume that he's putting on a piss-sopped garment.  Yuk.

"Disgusting." She put her arms around my waist and pulled the T-shirt
from out of my jeans. "Really, really filthy. You just got your thing out
there and then, in broad daylight, and urinated on a motorbike. You're
not the man I thought you were."--- &:)  Good twist, and Lenny wins his "Babe" in the end.  Bravo!

Again: I think this is tremendous stuff.  With luck, Clob will continue to thrust his greedy little snout into Leonard's adventures and many future installments will, by rights, employ generations of Ghurka sherpas and shaggy yaks. &:)

Thanks for the read, and best regards!

Mick Halpin
Dublin, Ireland
http://204.49.130.57

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