"run, kelly, run" - the truth behind the waffle kelly, himalaya & other H horrors

  1. while eagerly awaiting more installments in the Captain Jacques saga (gina - chop chop!), GF's and HG's "waffle kelly and other abominations" discussion inspired some utterly useless and purely speculative channeling of the guilty craftspeople responsible for these crimes against leather. join them as they find themselves accountable in a court of law for sullying the name of Hermes.

    a craftsman gone mad.
    a non-stick waffle iron.
    an unstoppable urge.

    be afraid. be very afraid.

    starring craftsman 22A as "The Mutilator"

    in a Miramax film

    "Run, Kelly, Run"
  2. paris.
    present day.
    the city of lights is caught in a grip of terror as a madman with a waffle iron is stalking well-accessorized women along the Champs-Elysees.

    he flirts, seduces and lures these unsuspecting femmes to his modest but well-appointed lair in the Marais. a glass of vin rouge, a smoke, a stolen caress.... dozens of lovestruck parisiennes fall under the spell of jean-pierre, a.k.a. 22A. a man of passion; hands versed in steady, untiring, repetitive movements and an unequalled attention to minute detail...well, at least until that fateful day when...IT happened.
  3. per jean-pierre's own tortured courtroom recollection (thanks to chantal the courtroom translator for the following):

    "they made me do it!"

    thus began his empassioned plea to a jury of his peers (craftspeople 133A, 56A, etc.). "the bag was going to be destroyed! i had worked on it for 17 hours and 58 minutes (wells up with tears)...and then a spider, a big, juicy spider crawled on it. oh...if i could only go back and do it differently! it all happened so quickly."

    "she was perfect! etrusque boxcalf with gold hardware! she was a magnificent, untamed beast in my hands." (bawling) "without even thinking, i reached over to smash the spider. why, oh why did i not simply allow it to crawl off and then smash it on my worktable! the spider guts left a mark that could not be removed (choking on tears). antoine the foreman was going to destroy her! i could not let that happen, you see! he saw how distraught i was and sent me into the company kitchen for a coffee and to get myself together."

    "and then i saw 114A fixing herself a belgian-style breakfast. and then it dawned on me...if i could alter the texture of my precious etrusque kelly, the spider guts would no longer be noticeable! yes! that would be my salvation. so after 114A wiped the waffle iron clean, i snuck it to my workspace and gently, oh so gently set my failed kelly down between the menacing, creviced jaws. i hit the power switch and with a mixture of relief and resignation, my eyes followed the slow, heavy plumes of smoke that curled in the air."
  4. "one minute later, the deed was done. with a deep breath i opened the teflon-coated jaws and extracted the kelly. she was ugly, for certain. and how. but she was perfect! i could barely contain my pride and excitement, and called for the foreman to return to my station. i will never forget the expression on antoine's face as i showed him my creation."

    "oh, my," he began. "but that is truly hideous!"

    "then he picked it up -- it had already cooled down -- and scrutinized it as only antoine can...and he pronounced it perfect! ugly but flawless! and not a spider gut in sight."

    "we met in private on numerous occasions, to fashion our presentation to Mr. Dumas and the rest of the board for their approval. we gathered as many other examples of ugly bags as we could in order to support our argument that this would be a viable addition to the line-up. i remember how antoine stressed the himalaya as our strongest piece of evidence. certainly our waffle kelly was no uglier than that!"

    "the day of the meeting came and my stomach was in knots. so was antoine's -- you see, we are behind-the-scenes people and sales pitching is not our strong point. but once we showed them the himalaya, the vibrato, the symbiose, that dalmation monstrosity, and that anteater thing that's been on ebay for the last few months, they conceded to our wishes."

    "yes, they agreed that it was a shameful waste of leather to simply discard the materials, not to mention the hours of paid labour. better to make it very ugly and present it as a novelty to the public. and this is how the waffle kelly was born. and every painfully ugly hermes item that you come across, you can be sure that it was an attempt to recycle otherwise irretrievably damaged goods."

    at this proclamation, Mr. Dumas could be seen shrinking into his seat in the courtroom. (thanks, chantal)

    "but as much as this victory with the higher-ups soothed my ravaged ego, it was just a temporary balm. no, my perfectionistic streak was greater than the circumscribed, temporary triumph of my Waffle Moment. i had to do something...it became an obsession. how to right this deep wrong? i saw all the perfect kelly bags on the streets of paris, clutched proudly in the silken grasp of chic french women, and it put me over the edge. they were all so flawless...so perfect...so perfect...so perfect. i could not get it out of my head that i had failed...and so it became my obligation, my mission, to waffle-ize every damned perfect, smooth kelly that i laid my eyes on. (wells up w/tears). so you see, i was a man possessed! i was trained to revere perfection, yet could not myself achieve it...so i had to make waffles of the other kelly bags and make them just as ugly as my own...do you see? do you see? (bawls like a baby.)
  5. chantal-the-courtroom-translator's notes:

    it was mayhem in the jury box. craftsman 133A broke down and bawled...as did 56A. And the other 10 men and women in that fateful box. tears flowed like the Seine in the courtroom that day, and neither the judge nor bailiffs could restore order. 133A rose courageously from his chair and declared, "please do not condemn this man...for i, too, have made errors in the line of duty."

    you could have heard a pin drop if it weren't for the muffled whimpers of the jurors. "let it be known right here and now," he began with a purposeful pause and unmistakable sense of both foreboding and catharsis, "that it was i who first created the himalaya!"

    the courtroom erupted into one enormous, audible gasp. expressions of marked disgust swept over the ashen faces of the defendant's victims...expressions that both equalled and in some cases exceeded those that they'd reserved for their waffle-izing perpetrator.

    the brave craftsman continued, "i, too, was left without a choice! antoine had declared my kelly flap imperfect (fights off tears)...he unceremoniously flung it into the "Bad Bag" bag and reprimanded me. i was demoted to small accessories for a week."

    "when he left for lunch, i went into the "Bad Bag" bag and retrieved it. surely something could be done with it? surely it did not deserve such a cruel end? so i ripped off the imperfect flap and attached it to another failed bag in the BBb -- the beginnings of a north-south garden party. oh...i was in a defiant mood.

    "i'll show antoine," i thought to myself. "with the glee of a child playing with his first "mr. potatohead" toy, i maniacally stitched and glued together the disparate parts of bags until something so repugnant emerged that i had to rub my eyes in disbelief. little did i know that the ever-frugal Monsieur Dumas had been lurking in the atelier that day. while i was in the toilette, he went to my desk to observe it up close."

    "my good man," he turned to me as i approached my desk. "this is a work of genius! what are all those small accessories doing on your desk? where is that boob antoine? you have recycled these valuable materials and created something new and utterly unique!"

    i was speechless. surely this man of impeccable taste and style could not truly consider this mutant, hybrid monstrosity a work of art! but i remained respectfully quiet. and then he stunned me with his declaration that he would market this to the public! i was mortified...just mortified (slumps back into his seat and dissolves in tears).
  6. the judge asked to see exhibit B, the himalaya, and it was promptly placed before him. an otherwise poker-faced man, he could not conceal the deep and volcanic disgust that welled up inside him at the sight of this franken-bag, this vile cocktail of outcast canvas, leather...and spite.

    an involuntary shudder cast itself through his body and lifted him from his stately chair. he slowly and methodically slid a white glove on his hand and paused while his deeply set, icy bleu eyes swept a disapproving arc across the room . the courtroom was dead quiet in anticipation of his next move.

    the judge's eyes collided with those belonging to 133A, still ravaged and raw after his passionate and tortured confession. with great apprehension, the judge drew his gloved hand to the himalaya's handle and raised it from his desk.

    "am i to understand," the judge began accusingly, "that THIS is the result of your surreptitious retrievals from the "Bad Bag" bag? this...this...freak of nature that i hold in my hand?"

    a former Shakespearean actor, the judge possessed a studied sense of dramatic timing and had a richly resonant vocal quality that sent chills through all who were in attendance that day. the juror-craftspeople collectively experienced this booming and unnervingly parental voice as a lightning strike and were thus struck paralyzed.

    133A was rendered particularly speechless, his entire body feeling as if he'd been punched. surely the indignity of the moment was greater than that of Dumas' enthusiasm to add the himalaya to the lineup, wasn't it? either way, it was public humiliation; and this shy and unassuming man found it too much to bear.

    "may i inquire as to the origin of the name of this...object i hold in my hand? the 'himalaya,' as i understand? certainly a majestic range of mountains need not sully its noble name to a case of gross human error and appalling lack of taste...it is an abomination at the least."
  7. Mr. Dumas struggled to regain his composure and respond to the judge's query. after all, it was he who had bestowed the misguided efforts of 133A with the 'himalaya' designation. for the life of him he could no longer remember why; but was feeling the intense pressure of having to come up with a believable explanation for the unsmiling judge.

    too many leisurely kir royale business lunches had effectively and permanently obliterated crucial brain cells, and his memory was no longer what it used to be. moments like this, now gaining in alarming frequency, reminded him that his list of regrets -- diluted in serial abuses of wine, women and song -- were catching up with him in a most uncomfortable way.

    "uh..." Mr. Dumas began as he searched his empty memory bank for a crumb of a recollection...anything...anything at all. with uncharacteristic lack of articulateness and a growing pool of sweat resting precariously on his brow, he warily observed the shape of the himalaya dangling from the judge's gloved hand and exclaimed, "it is tall! it rises from a wide base! is that not unlike a mountain range?" his heart was pounding as he awaited the judge's response.

    "i have no f***ing idea why i named it 'himalaya,'" he thought to himself. "not a bloody clue. and who is on trial here, anyway? i don't see the himalayan mountain range's lawyers filing any suits."

    at least he THOUGHT he'd been thinking it to himself....
  8. Brilliant BN!!! Be kind in the telling of Ms. Dalmatien's origins though--I have to admit a fondness for her.
  9. .........and I do like my anteater.............
  10. love it love it love it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

    bete....can you add some of the wonderful RTW Japster posted the other day? Like those leggings?
  11. Omg.....this is too good!!!! Go, Bete, Go, girl!
  12. thanks, everyone -- glad you're enjoying this.

    orchids - i'll try to work in a kind word for the dalmation thing.

    HG - ditto above, but it'll really be a stretch (though i do like the shape of the bag). oh...and i knew copying and pasting would work, but was hoping for a really lazy shortcut...pathetic, i know.

    GF - i'll have to look back at the scary RTW that she'd posted for some renewed inspiration. stay tuned.
  13. You are a literary genius!! Love it.
  14. Bete......I think someone should be working while wearing those God-awful LEGGINGS! And throw in one of those rolly hats while you're at it, please???? :nuts: :nuts: :nuts:
  15. shopmom, you mean one of those hats that's on ebay right now - the one that looks like a silk beehive? that can be arranged. i'll have to check out the leggings again...i think i blocked them out of my memory bank. i'm thinking that maybe the judge is a secret cross-dresser and is eyeing the RTW for his nightlife.