Posted: May 26, 2011 by Thom Dicomidis in Uncategorized
Tags: , ,


The footsteps at his back came in short bursts, his inexpert stalker allowing him to get ahead then hurriedly rushing to close the distance between them. Tired and irritated China Miéville rounded the corner and stopped, pressing his back against the wall, and listened for the patter of conspicuous feet. As the stalker, dressed head-to-toe in black and hooded, rounded the corner China Miéville grabbed him roughly by the throat and squeezed a tacit but unmistakable threat.

“Wait!” The hooded figure gasped through incipient strangulation, “I’m not the Hooded Bastard! I’m renowned graffiti artist and wall-botherer Banksy.”

The name had barely left his lips as China Miéville’s fist shot up in a punch, staggering Banksy.

“My work has an important social message.”

The response was a brutal kick which sent Banksy stumbling into the wall. The ball-bearings in his cans of spray-paint rattled as he sat heavily.

China Miéville unhooked his earrings and tossed them at Banksy. In flight the cybernetic worms awoke, they landed on Banksy’s chest with their teeth bared. His eyes went wide as they burrowed into his chest and dug into his circulatory system, then slack as the worms neatly lobotomised him. Stepping forward, China Miéville held out a small case to collect his pets as they struggled out through Banksy’s tear ducts.

The police were never able to trace the anonymous message that told them where to find the inert artist.



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