Frederick the Story


then frederick was all like

“I’m sick of theories being tied to tree stumps, it’s time to move on from the throng in my thong and find sights unseen and sleepless dreams in waking mares of night ”

Now everyone knew Frederick was a simple lad but no-one, not even Thomas, could ever have dreamt he would say something quite so insulting to the Nicaraguans. People the world over reeled back in horror at the thought of spending another night and a day in the company of such a man, so opted for the safer rout of trying to invent a blend of poultry juice and guava. Right…. back to Frederick. As has been mentioned, he was a simple lad of Norwegian goats blood breeding, and every time he smelled cheese he threw up horse food.



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Mrs Johnson Thompson and Frederick were getting hot and heavy in the back of a chevy when a trident slowly pulled into view…” how odd” mumbled Frederick. “Pardon me?” bellowed the always verbose and sometimes on toast Mrs Johnson Thompson. “Shut up!” shrieked Frederick as he very lovingly and tenderly bludgeoned her with a small beach umbrella. Slowly pulling her limp lifeless carcass into the back of the trident, Frederick’s always enthusiastically sadistic friend Duc Van Pham of Ipswich, muttered his approval at the events he had just witnessed. He could not help but feel slightly perturbed by the fact that, though he lusted for blood as much as the next man, he was left feeling slightly unfulfilled as he discovered that the woman he had seen beaten, was in fact his mother and at times a loving aunty. “strange” he thought. Duc Van Pham however, quickly got over his self indulgent bitterness at having missed the chance to kill his mother himself, and went and ate a mint.



Never one to shy away from a good ho-down, Thomas got back to plowing the carrot tops. He had fallen into this job by chance when one day a strange stranger walked past his 19th storey apartment window whistling a merry tune. Thomas later discovered that the man had in fact just jumped out of the 21st storey of said apartment, and the whistling sound that so intrigued him, and made him want to be a carrot top harvester, was in actual fact the sound of the wind being pushed through the man’s rectal cavity as he hurtled toward the pavement. Luckily for the man that jumped though, he happened to land in a small boot and lived to tell his own story to a biographer; who in turn sold the film rights to Time Warner. It is believed that ‘twas this very story that inspired the Disney classic The Little Mermaid.

Thomas rang Frederick later that yesterday morning and was told of the Mr’s Johnson Thompson incident…He didn’t seem to mind as he knew Frederick was just having a laugh when he bludgeoned that woman to death, and it was only most peoples’ lack of a sophisticated sense of humour that stopped them from getting the joke.


paRT 4

June the moon was a curious goon, who ate a baboon and was called a buffoon. Frederick loved her none the less. He mused to himself that if she could love a man such as himself, then she was worthy of a tender bludgeoning. As he was preparing his favourite mini beach umbrella, reserved purely for festive beatings, he noticed that Thomas had left a voice-mail in his throat, so spat it out and heard what was said. “ I am a no-nonsense kinda guy Frederick, and if you lay a finger on my late mother I will destroy your moss plantation.” Now Frederick was appalled at the thought that Thomas could think him capable of such an act, and so took an axe and killed the ceremonial chicken. Try as he might though, he couldn’t shake off the lingering feeling that someone was watching him. As he rose his rosy head, he noticed he was in fact standing naked in a public square and thought “ shit…I’m standing naked in a public square” Being the simple lad that he was, this was the only thought that came to him so he just sat down and made a pigeon sandwich. It was horrible, yet as he choked on a feather he was struck by the amusing thought that one plus one could actually equal two if he put two apples in his eye sockets and counted them in the standard fashion.



Quantam mechanics is a field that holds no relevance to this story. Frederick had long ago dreamt of snow but had forgotten about it entirely until that fateful night. Anguished screams awoke Frederick from his slumber only to find himself stranded in the holding bay of a small cargo plane taking supplies to the set of a reality tv show. This wasn’t a particularly unusual occurrence so Frederick just went back to sleep in the warm belly pouch of a lactating kangaroo. The average person might find this a strange set of circumstances and since Frederick was an average person, so did he. He consequently re-awoke with a start and as the gravity of his situation finally sunk in he went back to sleep.



John the thong had an enormous schlong but lost it to three tattood men in a backgammon match. Surprising really, since he had never played the game in his life. His wife on the other hand loved the game….strange. Anyways back to our story. Our eventual hero Frederick had since disposed of the likes of Duc Van Tram Pham whatever his name was, and had now culled his entourage down to a mere sixth of the size it was…Guess how many people that is? Little did the unsuspecting Frederick know, that Mrs. Johnson Thomson was not in fact dead but a born again Christian. This was terrible news for Frederick, for though he was a simple lad, he knew a surprising amount of religious teachings and philosophies and had written a great many essay on the bleak meaninglessness of our existence and the futility of life. Now keeping this in mind, take your minds back to chapter 72 oh dear reader, and think to yourself :”hang on…I never read a chapter 72, the book jumped straight to chapter 73 and just be secure in the knowledge that in Africa people are hot and have not much to eat.



Unbeknownst to most while rich folks boast I just serve toast and call myself a host. Now…whilst no-one was any the wiser about the ordeal Frederick had gone through in chapter 7 it had none the less left him a little shaken and so he had chosen to once again become master of his own destiny. Breaking through the shackles of his gormless mind he decided to give Rosemary Archcroft a call. She had always been kind to him and whenever he needed a helping hand he just strung up an Egyptian temple ghost and summoned all his strength and channeled it into some sort of cylindrical homing device. He did once own a homing pigeon but it had left a bad taste in his mouth. Rosemary was delighted to hear from her old friend and sparring partner and offered to meet him in a nearby alley way for purposes unknown to all but her and her phone. ‘This could be it’ thought Frederick and rushed out to buy a new pair of sleeveless pants especially for the occasion. He did have trouble getting them on however, and so set fire to them in the local business district and unfortunately gave second degree burns to every third person he encountered.



Though the meeting with Ms Archcroft had been brief, Frederick felt renewed vigour and unlike in previous times of confusion in his life, he chose not to sardonically whip the first woman he saw and instead went for a peaceful walk to mull over the recent events in his life. All of a sudden, seemingly out of nowhere Thomas went jogging past with an expression that could only express what he was feeling at the time. Frederick had never been a particularly perceptive person and so had to catch up to Thomas and ask what was the matter. Thomas just kept jogging however almost as if he were ignoring Frederick, like he was not even there. Frederick was appalled until he realized that it had been at least ten minutes since Thomas had jogged past and he was still just standing in the same spot deciding to catch up to Thomas to ask him what was wrong. Frederick was still desperate to find out what Thomas was up to and luckily for Frederick Thomas had not put much distance between the two of them in his ten minutes of jogging because they were in fact on a running track at a local elementary school and since Thomas was such a slow runner it had taken him almost 9 minutes and fifty seven seconds to get around the 400 metre track. “Hi Thomas” muttered Frederick. “Oh hey there Frederick” replied Thomas. ”Didn’t see ya there buddy what’s up? Why are you standing in the middle of a running track with a golf umbrella and a large hessian sack?” “Oh FUCK!” cried Frederick. Yes gentle readers, he’d done it again. The poor dear Ms Rosemary Ashcroft had become Fredericks third victim of tender bludgeonings and it only then dawned on Frederick that perhaps he had better start thinking of a better way of expressing himself than needlessly killing every one he knew. “C’mon Frederick” sighed Thomas sympathetically, ”lets get you home.”


CHAPTER eleven

Frederick awoke sleepless the next mid morning and was struck by a passing thought but decided today was not the day to be over analysing his recent behaviour. The time though, had surely come to speak to Thomas and get to the root of the matter tree and thrash out some ideas as to why his life had taken such a strange turn. He set off on foot across the great estates, that for some reason surrounded his house in Eling, whistling a morbid tune. For unlike most people, Frederick only found the desire to whistle when he was at his lowest. Greens seemed blue and troubles brewed on the mildew, the grass danced with fog and quiet, grey rain washed another cog in his mind, all the time trying to find the answer to the question he barely knew. He realised at that moment that a man he had yesterweek spied sitting on a bench near the running track, was now sitting on a duck in the park appearing to be peering. The man was unmistakable and at the same time unremarkable in his gait. His shoulders slouched into his cigarette pouch, as he rolled another drag of mystic milde shag. With an expression of malevolence and hesitant elegance, he peered towards Frederick, blissfully unaware of the relevance. Whilst Thomas did find it strange to have seen the man twice in as many weeks the thought registered nary a skerrick as he had just seen Derrick lying on the grass amid empty cans and flasks.” Good day to you Derrick or should I now call you Eric?” asked Frederick. “Call me what you will son for I cant believe that any one could hurt me as much as she has, where has she gone I wonder? Things are not right, gone asunder” replied Eric in an oddly poetic turn of phrase. ”Whatever do you mean dear Eric? Of whom do you speak?” “Of Rosie of course, she’s been gone but a week, yet I know something’s amiss, our love was sheer bliss. Now she won’t return calls. Is it gall? Perhaps something has happened to her.” whimpered Eric “Rosie?” asked Frederick hesitantly, scarcely wanting to even begin to entertain the horrible realisation that was dawning on his poor gormless mind.



Frederick ran from the scene, knowing one day he’d come clean, but today was certainly not that day. Frederick was feeling adequately fragile as it was, without having to tell his friend Eric that he’d beaten his one true love to death with a polka dotted whack and put her in a sack, he tied to his back and threw in the river, the very thought made him shiver. Finally he arrived at Thomas’ house and calmly rang his hands and the door handle. “Thomas! Thank god you’re home. We need to, well I need to talk”. Thomas just stared back with a sleepy stare from inside bed ware. “I know I’ve pushed our friendship’s boundaries lately Thomas, but this time I mean it. I have to change my ways. I must stop….you know” “Yes. I know. Come inside” Thomas sighed exhaustedly. “Oh and mind your step by the way. You see I recently purchased a small Indian fishing ball but it bounced off the wall, caused me to fall, now it just sits on the step for a stranger to break his neck.” Frederick successfully negotiated the harmless ball and sat down on the couch. He was not allowed to relax for long however, as a knock came at the ceiling. ‘Twas the electrician, the best one in Eling, Come to fix the wiring, all the while admiring, the bald spots on the heads, of the ever ageing Thomas and friend. Since Thomas had never heard of an electrician let alone ever called one he was regarded with some suspicion. The electrician was kindly asked to vacate the ceiling and did so obligingly pausing only to nurture his instincts of mother’s ilk and farmers milk. Frederick, soon there after, proceeded to tell Thomas of his encounter with Eric Derrick. Thomas too knew that the time was not right to lay the news on poor Eric but realised people may begin talking soon enough. As Frederick pulled the electricians carcass into the ceiling cavity Thomas quite seriously began to wonder why he ever became friends with Frederick.