C4 antho - Chamber Four

Eupcaccia ~27~
bounce with princely charm. His wads of fat are segmented
and move independent of each other, colliding to form peaks
and valleys. The color of his skin is that of un-fired porcelain
with undertones of scarlet and lavender. Next to his skin the
threadbare fabric of his underwear appears velvety, sophisticated,
and magical in hue.
With a yawn, Mal rolls over and pulls out from under the
bed a jimmy-rigged little VCR and B/W monitor. The two are
connected to each other via a fat black cable that he fondles
awkwardly. The video he’s about to watch is a Malchicken
masterpiece. It was shot using a mini self-leveling camera
now tucked away inside a flannel pouch he keeps on his
nightstand. The camera’s original use―fastened to a metal
skid and attached to 200 feet of cable through which was
pushed twelve gallons of water per minute from the back of a
Santa Fe County sewer truck―was to go headfirst into
clogged sewer systems and record the journey into darkness.
Mal considers sending the camera into the kitchen to peer
into the oven and laughs. He would be single-handedly responsible
for improving the camera’s worldview. It’s perspective.
From poop to pastries. He cups his head between
his hands and sets the video to Play. Seconds pass before an
image comes into focus.
* * * *
The Chickens’ septic system had always been a “ball
breaker,” and the way it “worked” had all three of them practicing
the ancient art of inhalation and retention before
crossing the threshold. Even without the contributions of Mr.
Chicken over the last few years, the tank “kept its own way of
thinking,” and Mrs. Chicken tried everything (short of liquefying
the load before sending it down, and Malchicken had to