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The Oozing - Part 2
Gary Spotter, the fat Sweaty ball of pus, has started his summer job at The Outlook, a hotel for the rich and famous to practise their skiing. He is hard at work on some apparently straightforward maintenance tasks, and is plagued by flies...
Sweaty had been working all day. The secret to decorating is in the preparation, but even with his amazing abilities to change shape, which included the ability to wield a piece of sandpaper like an orbital sander, he didn't seem to be getting anywhere. Although having adopted the shape of the average workman, rather than his natural, globular form, Sweaty was exceedingly hot and bothered. One side of the wooden-built hotel was now suitably buffed and ready for its first coat of paint. However, it was only one of six sides of the irregular hexagon that made The Outlook hotel's architecture famous. Sadly, it was also the smallest of the sides.
Standing at the bottom of the ladder (it turned out that using a ladder was less effort than shape-changing his legs so that they were telescopic), Sweaty looked up at the baking August sun and felt that mixture of pride and despair that comes with viewing the first leg of preparation for decorating. Thrilled that he'd done such a good job, Sweaty was also overwhelmed by the fact that he'd have to toil a hell of a lot more to get the same result on the other sides and that he'd have to work to a less impressive result if he wanted to complete the job in a realistic amount of time. Sweaty was having increased difficulty holding his temper. It was a combination of the heat, never a good thing for a sweaty person, and the persistent flies, which buzzed in a cloud around his backside, which caused his temper to fray.
Worried about having a sweaty fit - one of the few weaknesses of all fat sweaty balls of pus - Sweaty decided to go inside for a drink. He set out for the tradesman's entrance of The Outlook, to go to the kitchen. The agent, Lisa Raymond, had provided him with keys to this door only and warned him not to attempt entrance by any other. Since the tradesman's entrance always seemed to be the furthest distance from where Sweaty was working, it was another source of irritation not to be able to use the front door. Trying to keep his temper, Sweaty fixed his attention away from the front door as he went past. Taking one last longing look at the front door before moving round the building to the tradesman's entrance, Sweaty noticed that it was ajar.
A shortcut into the building.
It was tempting.
Sweaty had been told quite clearly that he should use nothing but the rear entrance, yet there was an open invitation in this swinging front door. Plus, Sweaty reasoned that part of his role was to act as security guard for the hotel, perhaps the front door had been damaged and needed securing. What if the front door had been violated; there may be a thief or vandal inside the hotel. Sweaty decided to check it out.
Slowly, he approached the front door. Cautiously checking around, he adopted a slightly more athletic and imposing build, lest there should be anyone inside. He reached the entrance and put his hand on the door to push it further open. A loud warbling echoed through the passageway. Sweaty jumped, moisture exuding from his brow, his heart racing. The noise sounded hauntingly familiar. He felt a tingling in his leg. Nerves shot, he felt like he was going to pass out. Then he realised - the sound was his mobile phone, the tingling his state of the art leg vibrator, to which he was much more sensitive without the padding of his normal form. A quick glance at the phone showed that it was the hotel's agent, Lisa; she had been ringing him on the pretense of checking on his progress, though he could tell that she wanted something more.
Not interested in another toe-curling come-on from Miss Raymond, Sweaty pushed the busy button on his phone. He felt that the phone's ringing might be some sort of omen, meaning he should not be using the main entrance to the hotel and he turned back to the path, which orbited the hotel, in order to go to the correct entrance. All of a sudden he heard music coming from the passageway. He checked his phone, but it was not ringing this time; Miss Raymond was probably leaving another of her long messages - she'd be busy for twenty minutes or so. Slowly, Sweaty returned to the entrance way and pushed the main door all the way open.
The music sounded louder and Sweaty stepped into the hallway of The Outlook. From the servants' quarters, he'd not seen much of the grandeur of the hotel. Now the splendour of his surroundings became more apparent. The hall opened into an open atrium, with a large skylight allowing the sun to pour in and fill the space with light. Every surface reflected every other and the hall seemed larger than the entire hotel. A staircase began against one wall and followed the countours of the building to a landing, from which a series of halls led to the guest bedrooms. The music appeared to be radiating from each of the bedroom hallways.
Sweaty reasoned that the acoustics of this atrium, made of polished marble, would be misleading. He also decided that noone should be playing music in this hotel, with the possible exception of himself (when decorating, he tended to favour playing a bit of Dusty Springfield at top volume, occasionally breaking into song, or conducting with his scraper). The only thing to do was search each guest hallway until he found the source of the music. He hoped that it would turn out to be something innocent, perhaps a faulty television in a bedroom, or an alarm clock. However, he changed his shape a little further to ensure he'd have appropriate control over his bodily functions as he made his search.
The irritations of decorating and trademan's entrance usage were the last thing on his mind as he crossed the hall to the staircase. Without looking back he started to climb...
Will Sweaty discover something evil lurking in the upper floors of the hotel? or will he discover the benefits of the extended warranty on electrical items from most major retailers? What is the haunting melody? Will the decorator's preparation ever end? Find out in the next exciting installment...
29 October 2001
Ashley Frieze