The Doings of That Pesky Baboon: The Maggoty Man

how was i to know… when i moved into that old victorian house in st leonards-on-sea, i would end up sharing it with peculiar misfits?

first, an opinionated seabird wearing baggy white, polka dot shorts arrived at the window. then, one cold night, an infant baboon was left on the doorstep in an old fish box. self-centred, self-gratifying, the little baboon became a cocky freeloading, drape-coated, annoyance, sporting a pompadour hairstyle combed up at the back like a ducks behind.

i call him, ‘that pesky baboon’.

i thought life would become more peaceful as he got older, but i was wrong, there was far worse to come…

i didn’t know about ‘the maggoty man’.

not a man. not a vampire… something not quite right… something that came from a dark place into our town reaching out with the hand of death.
but baboons are sneaky. we crept into the eerie black, underbelly of the australian dreamtime. risking our lives against naked nightmares on a strange and terrible quest with a wild bunch of aboriginals led by aunty gammyip.

ok, i’m a fantasy artist. i don’t fight hideous monsters; i just paint pictures of them. i guess then, what happened was my fault; i should have listened to all that good advice…