The 'A' Factory

 

 

The 'A' Factory

 

 

A N   I M P R O B A B L E   T A L E   B Y   S T R Z E K A

F O R   S T E V E N   P.

 

The third part of a trilogy, preceded by Thirstysomething and OneOff

 

P R O L O G U E

 

Successful bar entrepreneurs Colin Colby and Conrad Alton had become severely disabled within a short period of time. Unwilling to let their limblessness restrict them, they were determined to continue their social and financial success. Conrad arrived home after a two week sojourn spent shedding his legs and elbow in an establishment which undertook amputations on request.

 

J U N E   2 0 2 7

 

            – No need to cry, Conrad. I even like your wheelchair. You look regal, invincible on wheels. I love your leglessness. You don’t have any stumps, do you?

            – No, everything was taken.

            – Is your stump healed?

            – Yes, they used the electrolysis thingy. I’ll never have phantom pain. In fact, I can’t even feel the amputation.

            – You look so surprising in a wheelchair. I thought we would always use peg arms to get around.

            – Colin, it’s too much for me to swap between my arms and the crutches all the time. I think I’m going to use a chair now that I’ve tried it except when we’re walking together. Then I’ll use my peg arms. I have a new pair.

            – And new wooden prosthetics too, I see. They look very much the business.

            – They taught me how to use them. They’re so light. I can do things now I couldn’t do before.

            – They’re beautiful. You look fantastic, a legless man with wooden arms. How did you think of that?

            – By knowing you. I wanted to be more like you, Colin.

            – Just don’t go cutting off more bits. I know have only one arm stump but two fake arms look perfect on you. I love your stumps, Colin. They make you so erotic. Don’t cut more of your arms off.

 

Craig arrived home.

            – Hi guys! Whoa! Conrad in a chair. Never thought I’d seen a chair in here.

            – Hi Craig! What are you doing here? How did you get in?

            – Con, I rented out the spare room while you were away. Craig and Marc will be here for the time being. You don’t mind, do you?

            – No, of course not. Good to see you, Craig. I see you’re on your peg in public too. It looks fine on you.

            – Thanks man.

Conrad arranged his hooks so he could turn the wheels to face Craig directly.

            – As you can see, I’ve lost my legs again. No more stubbies. No stumps.  All I am is this wooden socket and a pair of artificial arms.

            – Mate, you look fantastic. Welcome back.

He went into his and Marc’s room.

 

Conrad spun himself around and went to Colin reclining on the sofa. He tried unsuccessfully to remove the seatbelt.

            – I’m stuck in this chair. I want to hug you and love you.

            – Mate, you look so good . I want to feel your skin and touch your face. Shall we ask Craig to get us to bed? That’s why they’re here. I let out the spare room in exchange for a helping hand when we need it.

            – And do they know that?

            – Oh yeah. They put me to bed every night and help me pull myself together in the morning. Otherwise I try not to bother them. If you want some help now, I can ask Craig to help.

            – I’m OK for the mo. It feels like, I don’t know – you know when you get an erection in the wrong place and you can’t get rid of it? That’s how it feels. Something enjoyable but somehow wrong. Having more amputations was wrong, I suppose. That’s what most people would think. But I am enjoying this new body, being so restricted and so disabled. I can try to spread my legs and spread my fingers and nothing happens but the feeling is there, but however much I strain, nothing happens. And that makes me horny. I always thought I’d be able to get around with peg arms but it’s such a bother to swap my arms for the pegs all the time. I like wearing these arms, these hooks. I love how they are so limiting. How I have to plan every movement. But at least I can use them right. There was a guy at the Amputator’s place who made me practise until I didn’t need to think about how to use the arms. And guess what! He was at OneOff on opening day. Bald bloke with a big bushy beard.

            – Oh yeah, I remember someone saying he was the only guy who left a tip. Do you think you’ll be using a wheelchair from now on? Would you like to see me in a chair?

            – You can give this one a go when I get out of it. You might like it. It’s a lot easier than crutching, especially for you. Shall we be wheelers instead of crutchers?

            – We can try it out. I never imagined myself in a wheelchair. I always wanted to be a very short man on rigid stubbies. That’s the way I see myself. And my one prosthetic arm, my manipulator with its steel hook. Utterly useless as a human figure but feeling so sensual when my muscles try to work limbs which aren’t there, kicking and punching with non-existent limbs.

            – You love being the way you are, don’t you, Colin? I admire you so much. Shall we go to bed?

            – Let’s wait a bit until Marc gets back. You can introduce your new self to him and welcome him home and ask if he can carry you to bed after he’s taken his jacket off.

 

Marc arrived about an hour later and saw Colin and Conrad in the common room.

            – Hi there! Conrad, you’re back! Good to see you, man! What’s with the wheelchair? Christ, you’ve lost your stumps! And you’ve got new arms. Look at you! Quite the doings! I wish I knew where you guys go for your amputations. I’d be there in a shot. I want two gryphers. Don’t tell anyone. My meat hand looks so pathetic alongside my grypher. Let me get my coat off and I’ll be back.

He went into his room and a few moments later, both the lads came out and sat down on the sofa each side of Colin, facing Conrad.

            – Would you like to sit on the sofa, Conrad? It might be a bit more comfortable.

            – Actually, it wouldn’t because I can’t feel anything through my socket. It looks like I’m sitting here in a t-shirt but I’m actually in a thick wooden socket which covers my body from balls to tits to let me sit. My stumps are gone so all I have left to sit on is my bum cheeks and they aren’t very good for support. So I have this wooden shell to hold me. It’s very comfortable, but when it comes to sitting on anything, it makes no difference.

            – Can you take your shirt off? I don’t suppose it gives you any warmth, does it? Oh man, look at that!

Conrad revealed his glossy oaken body shell and his bulging codpiece.

            – And this is me! Wooden arms, wooden body. Craig, you’re going to drool if you don’t close your mouth. But now, would you two mind lending a hand in getting me and Colin into bed? We want to watch some videos.

Like hell we do, thought Colin. Craig and Marc lifted their employers into the bathroom, brushed their teeth, held them up to pee and carried them to their bed.

            – Do you need help removing your, er… shells? What are they called?

            – Torso sockets. No thanks, Marc. It would be quicker if you did it but we like to do it ourselves. Good night, you two.

 

It was only ten in the evening but Conrad and Colin explored each other’s body sockets with their prosthetic hooks, steel on carbon fibre, steel on wood, gently knocking, tapping. It was a multiple amputee’s version of foreplay.

            – You have the most fantastic codpiece I have ever seen. It’s so big and in-your-face. And the thing is, I know you fill it. I’m gonna get one like that next time I have a new socket.

            – Why wait? I’ve still got thingy’s scanner. I can scan your stump and get an order for a new socket to him tomorrow. If you want. Do you? Shall we both have wooden sockets, Colin? Think of the noise we’ll make when we cuddle.

            – If I get a new socket, it’ll have a flat base so I can sit in a wheelchair. I liked the way you looked, mate. I can see the sense of it. Yeah, I think I’ll get a chair and whizz around in that. You know how they say “confined to a wheelchair”? I want to be confined and tied and bound to a wheelchair, Conrad. I am the wheels. I want to have wheels.

 

On the fourteenth, Trenton drove to Nolan’s home and collected him. The pair travelled to the Memorial and Nolan continued his journey with the big-bearded guy. It was the last day Nolan would have a foot. By supper time, his newly bandaged short left stump was ready and Nolan was legless. Jamison had scanned the fresh stump and the left peg ordered from Philip Lee. It was to be delivered to the facility so that Nolan could leave wearing it in combination with his right AK prosthetic leg. He spent the time imagining himself walking, what his gait would be, how he would tackle everyday obstacles. Most of all he wondered how his workmates would react to having the first AK/peg team member. Would they envy him or pity him?

 

Nolan’s peg was delivered four days after his amputation. The incision was still healing so Jamison considerately withheld telling him for the time being. The peg was of a dark wood, similar to mahogany with deep red undertones when it caught the light. It was a beautiful piece of prosthetic equipment.

 

Colin tried to open a letter which had arrived in the morning. He was unable to do it and called Conrad over.

            – See if you can open that, mate. Who sends letters these days? I can’t imagine who it could be from.

Conrad held a corner and ripped into the envelope with his other hook. He delicately plucked out its content and placed it still folded in front of Colin.

            – Oh, that’s interesting. The landlord says he has more space to rent if we want it, directly above OneOff. It used to be a boutique but he suggests constructing a staircase from OneOff to the second floor. That way customers could still access the place after the shopping centre closes at nine. Ha! What do you think? Shall we make a second level for OneOff? It’s not very big, only forty square metres. Big enough for a tiny bar and a few tables.

            – How much does he want for it?

            – Wait a minutes – only twenty percent more than what we pay now. We can do that, can’t we? Do you want a new space? Deck it out? Maybe a special place for amputees only? Charge a premium for membership to the A space?

            – What’s that?

            – The Amputee space, of course.

            – How are people going to get in after the shopping centre closes?

            – Well, since it’s directly above us, we could put in a lift. In the corner next to the back bar. ‘Amputees only’ plastered on the door to the lift. And when they get up there, it’s the best hangout in town!

            – We already have two of those, mate.

            – Yeah. How about having a lift which only works if the guy has a card which he can only get from OneOff? Make it valid for just a month until he has to renew it. Just to make sure access is restricted to amps only.

            – Well, it sounds fun and all that but what’s the point?

            – The point is that more people hear about the place through the grapevine and get amputations.

            – That’s ridiculous!

            – But you’ve seen how OneOff staff are going to the Amputator because they want to wear two peg legs. People want amputations, Con. If we have a superb bar upstairs which only amputees can get into which they all rave about, there’ll be a huge demand for amputations. We can work out an agreement with Perry and the Amputator, sort of a commission system.

            – That sounds nuts, though. I never knew anyone who wanted extra amputations before I met you. And since then I’ve had five! OK, I accept that there might be people who want to shed a limb or two. How is that going to keep a new bar going?

            – I’m sure there are already enough amps in town who might enjoy it. Instead of having normal tables and chairs, the whole area could be like that cushion thing which Philip Lee had, remember? Any leg amps could shuck their limbs and lie on the cushion. The tables would be like those slates he had.

            –Well, that sounds crazy. Let’s have the bar really close to the floor so I can work it. I could be sitting on a rail or something, sliding backwards and forwards getting people’s drinks.

            – Stop it! You’re getting me erect again.

            – In that case, let’s do it!

 

Once again, solicitors examined a new contract between the landlord and OneOff. When all was in order, Colin signed it and the forty square metre space above OneOff was theirs.

 

They hired the same contractors who had fitted the lift at home to build a small elevator at the back of the premises, just wide enough for two people to use simultaneously, enough for Conrad’s wheelchair. There was only one button to select for both up and down, and it was activated with a coded ticket issued at OneOff’s bar, valid for a month. The second floor exit was directly in front of the old boutique’s doorway, blocking it completely. The only access to the new space was via OneOff. Colin’s idea of the vast floor cushion was rejected in favour of steel mesh easy chairs around low circular steel tables. Three walls and the ceiling were coated with matte ultrablack, the fourth was covered in mirrors. Neon tubes slanting at forty-five degrees along one wall provided illumination. The marble-topped bar was as Conrad had wanted – low enough for him to work strapped to a sliding platform on rails along its three metres length. All equipment was positioned at the optimum height for Conrad to access with his limited hooks. The bar was designed around his disabilities rather than requiring Conrad to adapt. This was a space for amputees and its limbless owners were prime examples.

 

            – We haven’t got a name for it yet. How about OneOff Two? Or TwoOff?

            – I was thinking of The ‘A’ Place.

            – That sounds good. The ‘A’ Studio. ‘A’ Lounge. ‘A’ Factory.

            – Hey!  That’s it – the ‘A’ Factory. Inspiring amputations worldwide.

            – Don’t get carried away, mate.

            – Is that a good name, though? The 'A' Factory. Sounds perfectly respectable but conceals disability and despicable depravity.

            – Well, that’s what they come here for. Let’s go with that. I like it.

 

J U L Y

 

The 'A' Factory was opened on the second, a Friday. Advertising was restricted to notices standing on every table in Thirstysomething and OneOff that a new bar called The 'A' Factory for amputees only and one guest was open at OneOff.

 

Stubber rocked in to Thirstysomething with a limping, bearded leatherman via the back door shortly after it opened and saw the ad on his table.

            – What’s this all about? Amputees only? Mate, we should get ourselves down there. See if there are any of our limbless comrades in there.

            – Stubbers, mate, I want to spend time with you, not with a gang of legless motorists. Do you really want to go?

            – Well, we could drop in later just to see what’s going on.

            – OK, if you insist.

 

One or two customers had seen the new lift and the notices on their tables and asked about The 'A' Factory.

            – Well, it’s our new bar upstairs dedicated to amputee customers only. We wanted a space where they could feel welcome and be themselves.

            – Well, I’ve got a leg off and so has my friend over there. Actually, he has both off so can we go up there?

            – Yes, you can. You have to show me your prostheses first and I’ll issue you a pass to operate the lift. It works for a month.

            – Ha! Well here you are, my pylon. George, come over here!

George received the same spiel. He pulled his trouser legs up to reveal two steel pylons. Weston pressed a button under the counter and a printer issued two paper Q-code tickets the size of a credit card.

            – These are valid for a month. Don’t crumple them and you can get in there any time we’re open.

            – Shall we go and see what’s up there?

            – What have we got to lose?

            – Right. See you in a bit.

They collected their drinks and made their way over to the lift. George showed his ticket to the reader and the lift’s only button illuminated with the word up. His mate pressed it.

 

They spotted the bar immediately. In the dimensionless blackness, it sparkled. Conrad beamed at them as they approached, admiring their style of walking.

            – Good evening!  You’re the first customers of The 'A' Factory. Ah, you have drinks already. Sit down and make yourself at home!

            – Thanks, mate!

            – Drink up, George. I want to order another drink so I can watch that guy serve us drinks with hooks.

 

A quarter of an hour later, several more customers had arrived. One or two on crutches, two in wheelchairs. Conrad was the only upper limb amputee and the customers were interested to see him work. He moved along the bar always facing forward which looked odd. Conrad’s torso socket slotted onto a metal plate which he could tilt from side to side. Movement along the rail in either direction was activated by leaning that way. The ingenious system allowed Conrad to continue working despite his extreme limblessness.

 

Customers socialised amongst themselves. Several had obviously met before at rehab centres or crossed paths at prostheticians. A few knew Conrad and Colin from Thirstysomething and asked if they intended opening yet more bars.

            – I think we’ve already employed all the available amputee bar staff!

            – It’s a bit dark in here. These walls eat up the light. It’s good the mirror reflects the neon tubes. And you should get some decoration for more visual interest.

            – That sounds like a good idea. What would you suggest?

            – How about asking people to bring in their old disused or broken prostheses and hang them from the ceiling?

            – Ha! We could do that. I’ve got a pair of stubbies I don’t need and two artificial arms with hooks. Yeah, they could go up on the ceiling for safekeeping.

 

Opening evening was a success in that The 'A' Factory had been well received and customers reacted positively. It had not been more than about a third full at any time but there had been a good turnover of people and soon the word would be out. The last customers left at half past one and Conrad phoned downstairs for assistance in disengaging himself from the trolley and into his wheelchair. Tim appeared and rocked over on his BK pros and peg leg.

            – Hi Conrad! How’d it go? You ready to call it a night?

            – Hello Tim. Yup, everything was fine. A few suggestions on how to improve. Someone suggested we hang old prosthetic limbs from the ceiling.

            – That would look impressive! I have a few old legs in the bottom of my closet. You could have them if you want.

Tim helped Colin transfer to his chair and the pair of them cleared away glasses to be washed downstairs.

 

There were still a few stragglers in OneOff. Steve and Louis were tidying the bars. Conrad found Craig in the kitchen.

            – Are you ready to go, Craig? I’m ready to drop, mate. Let’s sneak out a few minutes early!

            – OK, let me just switch this thing on. I need to put my leg on too. Won’t be long.

Conrad wheeled across to Mick at the door.

            – Are you getting any tips from customers when they leave their jackets and bags and stuff?

            – Not really.

            – We should start a Peg Leg Fund. “All contributions gratefully received”. Lee at Thirstysomething rakes it in. Funny how he manages it. Well, good night. I’m off now. Steve! Will you lock up, please?

            – Sure thing!

            – Thanks. And there’s Craig. Off we go.

They summoned the freight elevator and went downstairs to the car park. Craig lifted Conrad and his chair into the eMini and sat in the passenger seat. Conrad started the car and hooked onto its control device, gently moving the car out onto the empty street and towards home.

            – I’ll need a hand in the loo before I go to bed, Craig.

            – No problem. How was The 'A' Factory?

            – I enjoyed myself. I think some of the customers were surprised to see me serving their drinks but I didn’t get any comments about being too slow, although I am.

            – We had a couple of customers in OneOff who were a bit miffed that Factory is open to amputees only.

            – Well, they can come up if they’re with an amputee.

            – Yeah, that’s what I said. One of them asked where he could have a leg off in order to join the exclusive club.

Conrad was quiet for a few moments, thinking.

            – I wonder if there’s a way to let wannabes know about the Amputator without us actually doing something illegal and immoral. I could make some enquiries to see what he thinks. And here we are, home sweet home. Grab the chair, Craig. I can drag myself into it.

            – Yep. You’re getting the hang of that.

They entered the flat and Conrad wheeled to his bedroom.

            – You can come in, Craig. Just pick me up and hold me over the loo. And I’d be happy if you brushed my teeth.

Craig carried Conrad into the bathroom and removed the codpiece. Five minutes later, devoid of arms and shell, Conrad was in bed thinking about helping to create more limblessness for willing subjects. Even Marc wanted his hand off.

 

Victor arrived as usual at six and started making breakfasts. He had been appalled at what had happened to Conrad. His employers’ stumps no longer bothered him although at first he had even avoided looking in their general direction. The foursome had arranged to eat together around nine o’clock. Marc and Craig put a tenner into the kitty each week to cover their food and were perfectly happy to let Victor make the coffee and do the dishes afterwards. Conrad was awake early and checked to see if Colin was still asleep. He was. Conrad wanted some help to get up but did not want to call out. They’d need to rig up some kind of alarm which he and Colin could activate to summon help. Something like the doorbell at Thirstysomething which set off not a bell but a flashing blue light. He would ask the boys if they would agree to have such a signal in their room. And one in the kitchen for Victor. Colin twisted his torso and coughed.

            – Are you awake? Good morning, mate. I want Victor in here, is that all right?

            – Yeah, go ahead. Can’t you sleep?

            – Not really. Victor!

            – Good morning. Oh you’re both awake. The early bird and all that. Are you ready to get up?

            – Well, I am. I think Colin wants to snooze.

Victor picked Conrad up and carried him to the bathroom to relieve himself. Conrad sat in a plastic garden chair while Victor gave him a quick sponge bath and carried him into the common room. He collected fresh stump socks from the guys’ bedroom and picked up Conrad’s torso socket. A couple of minutes later, Conrad was mostly ready.

            – All I need now is my chair and some arms. Victor, don’t bring the new ones, I want to try the old black one on my right today. I want to see if I still want it or not.

            – OK, shan’t be a sec.

Victor returned pushing the wheelchair with a disembodied arm and hook on its seat.

            – Plonk me in the chair first, eh? Then we can get the arm on. I wonder if I can wheel myself with just one hook? Have to try it. Thanks Vic. Where would we be without you?

            – Still in bed, I shouldn’t wonder.

 

By the time the others had risen and made Colin presentable, Conrad had drawn up a flowchart of how to organise amputations for customers – or staff – who claimed to want them. Direct contact with the Amputator was impossible. He used his top secret encrypted website only when he anticipated prearranged contact. Orders and enquiries first went to Philip Lee who would make a prosthesis after receiving a scan of the new stump. An order from Colin or Conrad was an automatic request to alert the Amputator with the wannabe’s phone number. The wannabe visited the War Memorial to explain his desired new configuration. An intake date was agreed. Two weeks later the patient returned by the same route with his new artificial limb.

 

It seemed logical enough, even efficient in a convoluted way. He should speak to Lee about the covert message behind orders for a new client. The less communication between them mentioning the service which the Amputator provided, the better. There was no possible harm in placing an order for a prosthetic limb, however. Maybe the inclusion of words like “with accessories” in the order could be the signal to set the process in motion. He could test the system with Marc as the guinea pig. He awkwardly wheeled his chair into the kitchen.

            – Any more coffee?

            – I’ll get some for you. Shall I pour it in your sports cup?

            – Yes please and two sugars. Marc, are you serious about wanting your hand off? You really want a second grypher?

            – Yes, I’m serious. Me and Craig have talked about it and he’s fine with me having two forearm stumps.

            – They look so neat. I love the symmetry of long hairy arms ending in rounded nubs instead of hands.

            – Yeah, I know what you mean. Well, look. If Craig is willing to work twice as hard for two weeks, we can let you go for the amputation. Would you like a conventional prosthesis like my wooden ones made for your new stump or will you just be after the grypher?

            – Just the grypher will do for the time being. I might ask your mate to make me a pair later on with ordinary hooks. But my prosthetist can get me another grypher at short notice. He works fast so I wouldn’t need long before I was back in the swing of things.

            – He’s not really my mate, but I get your point. How about Thirstysomething? You reckon two gryphers will work behind the counter?

            – Mmm, I don’t see why not, really. Using this one has worked fine.

            – Right then. One more for the chop! Let me get back to you, mate, and maybe you’ll have what you want before the end of August. Oh yeah, nearly forgot! I wanted to call for help this morning but didn’t want to wake Colin. Do you think it would be OK if we installed some kind of alarm system like in the bar, a flashing light in your room? Next to the door, maybe, out of the way. And one in the kitchen for Victor. With alert buttons in our bedroom and the bathroom.

            – Aren’t you going a bit overboard?

            – I just thought they all might be useful sometime. And we might as well get them all fitted at one time.

            – OK. Will you arrange it?

            – Yeah, I’ll fix it.

 

Nolan’s left below knee stump was shaping up very well and he had been wearing his wooden peg for a couple of days. The stump extended ten centimetres rearwards when he knelt on the peg, short enough to be easily concealed under a pair of trousers. Nolan’s problem was learning to walk on the peg with a mid-thigh AK amputation and conventional prosthetic leg on his right. With no muscles available to bounce either leg into motion, getting started was proving awkward. Jamison watched him for a few minutes and handed him a walking stick.

            – Try taking the first step by pushing on the stick. It’ll keep you stable when you tilt your pelvis. Step off with the prosthesis first, then bring the peg around. It’ll be easier when you build up some momentum. That’s it. Keep going. Does the peg feel a little long? Yeah, it’s supposed to be. Prevents your pelvis from dipping too low. You’re going to wear that peg more or less permanently now, aren’t you?

            – Yes, it’s why I wanted it. I have another for my right leg at home.

            – Is that so? And are you going to wear the two pegs together?

            – Yep. I want to walk on two peg legs with perhaps a cane. May I keep this one? It fits my hand very comfortably.

            – Yes, it’s yours. You will make quite an impression on two pegs, Nolan. I should like to see you strutting along the street, a legless man. Perhaps you might prefer to be on one peg with crutches. So many interesting combinations and you have the youth to experiment with them all for many years.

 

Two days later, Jamison drove Nolan back to the War Memorial where Trenton was waiting for him in Conrad’s car.

            – Hiya! You look fantastic with that lurch. You look very disabled.

            – Well, I’m legless, you see. It looks worse than it feels. I quite like the impression I give of being a guy with something very wrong with his legs. If I pulled the trouser legs up, it would be even more obvious.

            – But you like to be a man of mystery. OK, don’t hang about, mate. Get in and let’s get out of here. This place gives me the willies.

 

            – Have you thought about another amputation, Trenton?

            – Sort of. Knowing I can use a hook makes me fairly confident that I could use another one too. You know, don’t you, that this was no accident?

He rapped his hook against the steering wheel.

            – Oh! No, I didn’t.

            – Well, I made it look like an accident but it was all planned beforehand. I tampered with the safety features on a circular saw and stuck my hand in. Then I stuck my arm in. I had to make sure they couldn’t reattach the hand. It was in bits everywhere.

            – I didn’t know that. It must have hurt.

            – It was fairly bad but I ended up with a really good-looking stump so it was worth it. And I love having a hook.

            – I can’t imagine you without one. If you’re serious about another lop and chop, talk to Conrad.

 

Trenton drove them back to town and dropped Nolan off outside OneOff. Nolan threw his rucksack over his shoulders and rocked into the bar wielding his new walking stick and stood by the door while the other guys took a good look at him. A round of applause rang out.

            – Welcome back, matey!

Nolan wasn’t due to return to work until the following Tuesday so he ordered himself a lager and told anyone who would listen about his new peg leg. Trenton drove Conrad’s car into the underground car park and walked the short distance to Thirstysomething where he fantasized for the rest of the evening about doing everything with two hooks. Colin called him over to the corner and asked him if he would borrow Conrad’s car the next afternoon. It would probably be parked at OneOff.

            – Don’t mention it to anyone but I want you to take me to that wheelchair shop around two and help me buy one.

            – Sure, that’s easy enough. Colin, there’s something I want to talk to you about. Would I be able to keep my job if I lost my other hand and used two hooks?

            – Sure. How are you going to do that?

            – Well, I was hoping you had some advice or could help me.

            – There is a way, safe, fast and successful. Conrad is turning into the go-to guy for wannabes, so talk to him. This is utterly confidential, Trenton. No-one must suspect us of knowing anything about the growing number of amputees in this town.

            – Understood. Tomorrow at two, then.

 

Conrad was not busy. He spent an hour composing an email to Philip Lee, announcing an imminent batch of new orders and introducing the new system he had devised in his flow-chart. Lee told him to wait for a reply from the Amputator. Lee also mentioned the possibility of paying Conrad some commission for new clients. He looked forward to seeing Conrad and his man again.

 

Conrad had brought his old prosthetic limbs into The 'A' Factory. Instead of hanging them from the ceiling, he decided to arrange them artfully on one of the walls. What would be the best way? Maybe a steel mesh, painted black? It would match the furniture and make it easier to attach or remove the limbs. The whole wall might end up covered in artificial limbs. It would be a museum piece in its own right. He decided not to announce his idea to anyone. The collection would gradually grow as customers saw it and got the hint. It would be their own spontaneous creation. Conrad surfed for companies which might have mesh panels for sale and found one fairly locally which delivered. He ordered fifteen square metres of it and arranged for a delivery on Monday. He would need the help of someone who could use a ladder and hold a screwdriver. He stared at his hooks and recognised their limitations for simple DIY jobs. His wooden socket would never ascend a ladder, that was certain. But comparing his current ecstatic limblessness with the ability to use a screwdriver, he was happy to have his body in a shell and his limited hooks instead of hands.

 

A few amputees arrived for a Saturday night on the town. They had intended spending it in OneOff but when they heard about The 'A' Factory, they all requested lift passes and went upstairs. One legless guy was strapped into a wheelchair exactly like Conrad and they spent most of the evening discussing their mutual condition. The customer had been totally legless with double disarticulations since his eighteenth birthday when his spanking new Harley Davidson took him into the double rear axles of a lorry carrying car parts. The foreign driver noticed nothing for several kilometres until overtaking drivers forced him to stop and the torso of the birthday boy was extracted and flown to hospital by helicopter. As a wheeler for twelve years, he had a considerable amount of advice for Conrad about wheelchairs and home aids and was amused by Conrad’s own private railway on which he scooted back and forth fulfilling customer orders.

 

Colin told Conrad that he needed the car in the afternoon and had asked Trenton to chauffeur him. Conrad agreed as long as the car was back by evening. Colin said he was certain that it would be.

 

Once again Trenton walked from one bar to the other and collected the eMini. He returned to Thirstysomething, and secured Colin in the passenger seat. It was only a short trip to Morganson’s wheelchair emporium and the men entered the shop on one pair of legs and greeted the owner.

            – My companion recently purchased a wheelchair here. He uses prosthetic arms. Perhaps you remember?

            – I do indeed. He was fortunate enough to find exactly what he needed straight away. What can I do for you?

            – I need a similar chair which I can be strapped into and which I can operate with my one prosthetic arm. I want a manual chair, not an electric version.

            – We have a model which is operated with levers. Forward motion is generated by pumping the levers back and forth and braking by pulling either lever laterally. In your case, the chair can easily be adapted to operate from only one lever and the other can be removed. I have one such chair in stock, standard width and height, if you would be interested in testing it.

            – I would indeed.

            – It is in our stockroom and needs assembly, which should not take more than ten minutes. Please wait a moment and I will fetch it.

            – We’ll wait.

            – Colin, there’s something I wanted to ask you about. I think I heard that you have contact with someone who can arrange a voluntary amputation for a fee. I am keen to know if I could be considered to have my left arm off. I want to be a double arm amputee with body-operated hooks.

            – You too, Trenton? There’s quite a waiting list. Yes, I know someone who can arrange it. Shall I ask him to start the procedure? Will you also need new prostheses?

            – Yes. I want a pair of the wooden ones like Conrad wears. But instead of normal forearms, I want to have something really muscular-looking with hooks fixed to the ends.

            – Leave it with me, mate. Here’s comes my new wheels.

            – Sorry to keep you. As you can judge from the size of the packaging, this chair collapses quite flat. It has a seat suspension system to reduce vibration, disc brakes and is completely waterproof.

Morganson slit the package open and extracted its contents. He connected the seat to the brushed aluminium frame, bolted the front casters on, inflated the tyres and connected the push wheels.

            – As well as using the levers, this model can also be used as a normal wheelchair. Do I understand that you wish to use only the right lever?

            – Yes, I have no way of ever using the left.

            – There should be instructions here somewhere on how to adapt the mechanism to one-armed use. Let me see… here it is.

He turned the chair upside down onto the cardboard packing and set about the drive mechanism with an Allen key. Two minutes later, the chair’s axle and gears were adapted to run from the right lever. He returned the chair to an upright position.

            – There are several adjustments we can make to width and seat depth but perhaps you would like to try this for size?

            – Can you lift me up, Trenton?

            – Let me help. I see you have your own challenges.

Morganson carefully lifted Colin into the seat, noticing that here was another user with a rigid body shell. Two in one week!

            – I was going to ask if the seat feels too loose or too tight but I don’t believe you can sense it. Let me measure the width of your socket and adjust the seat. Are you able to reach the lever easily? You should not have to lean forward.

            – I couldn’t if I tried.

            – May I strap you in? Then we can adjust the seat’s position. Please grip the lever.

He loosened the seat and pulled Colin forward a little.

            – Now your weight is properly centred over the axle and the chair will be at its most stable. Let me release the handbrake and you can try pushing the lever forward to move the chair.

Colin tried. The lever was a little awkward to grip with his hook but the chair moved. He pulled back, grateful for being strapped in tightly and the chair accelerated.

            – Push the lever to either side to brake.

            – This feels like it’s exactly what I need. I’m seated very firmly, the chair feels responsive and the lever has a suitable range of motion. I think I may have to change my hook for a ring or cylinder to improve my grip but I quite like this. How long is the guarantee?

            – Two years. If you need any adjustments made, I will be only too pleased to help.

            – Good. Thank you. I’ll take it. No need to wrap it.

            – Will you be paying with a credit card?

            – I will. Oh, how do I turn?

            – Just engage the brake on either side. Braking the left wheel turns the chair to the left, and vice versa. If this is the first time you have used a chair like this, I recommend you practise for a while in an empty car park, for example, until you become familiar with it.

            – I shall. Thank you very much. Bye!

Colin charged the twelve thousand seven hundred to OneOff’s business account, asked Trenton to carry a canvas bag with the accessories and they left. Trenton helped Colin transfer into the car, folded the chair, stashed it and drove back to Thirstysomething to deposit Colin. He jumped back into the car and returned it to OneOff’s cellar, ready for Conrad’s home journey later in the evening. Colin spent the next two hours out the back propelling himself to and fro, practising turns and generally having fun. He nursed a persistent erection.

 

Conrad and Steve sat at the corner table in OneOff and went over some accounts and new orders together. Steve had been supervising OneOff for a few days while Conrad was in 'A' Factory and Conrad wanted to know how he felt about his increased responsibilities. Steve assured him that things were going well and with Louis usually at hand to help, he had no reason to doubt that there would be any insurmountable problems. And Conrad was upstairs for advice. Conrad thanked him and announced that both Steve and Louis would be getting a twenty percent pay increase backdated to the start of the month.

 

With Nolan returning to work in three days, Michael and Weston were next up for remedial work. They both wanted to be one up one down amputees. Michael was already an above knee amputee and wanted a below knee job too. Weston had a below knee stump and wanted his right leg off mid-thigh. They could decide who would go first and Conrad would get word to Lee to start the chain of events again. Both boys stated that they wanted their meat legs replaced with wooden peg legs, to be double peggers everywhere and always except in OneOff where they would continue wearing their old artificial limbs on their original stumps instead of their existing pegs, wearing them in combination with the new pegs. Wearing two peg legs – or only one with crutches – was too impractical for a busy bar tender to handle but one peg with a normal prosthesis would be fine. No further staff members had yet enquired about new amputations but perhaps that would change in a few months after all three guys were back from the Amputator’s facilities rocking two peg legs and wearing them everywhere. Louis had already transitioned to a new lifestyle as a one-pegged man, turning up to work on crutches and one peg every afternoon and donning a normal prosthesis on his empty stump for working hours. At the end of the day, he stashed it in his locker again and was on his way.

 

Several distraught families in the local area were horrified by the accidents and additional mutilation their already disabled offspring had suffered “while on holiday in Turkey”. The Turkish medical services had done good work on their boys’ new stumps and kindly provided a basic peg leg but there was no word of financial compensation and the young men themselves professed a complete amnesia of the entire affair, obviously due to trauma and wished simply to put the entire episode behind them. The number of newly legless young men gradually rose and there were more on the way.

 

Trenton wanted Conrad to scan someone’s forearm and to use its shape for his own arm sockets. The guys at Thirstysomething were hopeless, having a very meagre selection of forearms at the best of times. Thursday was Trenton’s day off and he decided to spend the evening in OneOff.

            – Hi Trenton mate! Got the day off?

            – Yup. Give us an IPA, will you? Can I ask you a favour? Can you roll your sleeve up to your elbow for a minute?

            – Sure. Like this? OK?

            – Fine, thanks! Is Conrad upstairs?

            – Yeah, he should be unless someone has kidnapped him. What are you up to?

            – I’d rather not say, Tim.

            – Hello Trenton.

            – Hi Mick. Hey, I know it sounds funny but can you roll your sleeve up for a minute? Ah, you’ve been working out! Can you show me the other side? Listen, do you mind if Conrad scans your arm a bit later?

            – No, but why?

            – I want a copy made for a new prosthesis. I want something with a bit of muscle on it.

            – I’m flattered. Go upstairs and ask Conrad where his scanner is.

            – Yeah, I will in a minute.

Trenton drank his beer and asked Mick for a lift pass. Mick handed one over. Trenton took it with his hook and went up to the 'A' Factory.

 

The were few customers as yet. A group of four sat chatting under the neon, their faces shadowy in the odd light.

            – Hello Conrad. I have come to ask a favour.

            – What’s that? Do you want a drink?

            – A beer would be nice.

Conrad slid along his rail, filled a beer glass and brought it back, handing it to Trenton.

            – No charge. What can I do for you?

Trenton repeated his explanation and asked if Conrad still had the scanner.

            – Yeah, it’s in my locker. I don’t want to go downstairs yet. I could lend you the key and you could scan Mick’s arm yourself. You remember how to use it?

            – Yup, no problem. Shall I bring the scanner up here afterwards?

            – No, don’t bother. Put it back in my locker and I’ll take it home tonight and sort it out in the morning. Er, Trenton mate, do you want just a new prosthetic or is there something more to this?

            – I want my other hand off. I want to be a bilateral hook user.

            – And you want artificial arms which look like Mick’s?

            – Yes. He has nicely muscular forearms.

            – So you’d like it if we booked you in with the Amputator?

            – Is that what you call him? Who is he?

            – I don’t know. The only time I met him was at the facility when he amputated my stumps. I have a mutual contact who communicates with him. He’ll be in touch with you to arrange dates and his price. Then there’ll be the cost of your new wooden prostheses on top of that.

            – Disability doesn’t come cheap.

            – Ha! No, it doesn’t!

 

A U G U S T

 

On the first Tuesday evening of the month, a tall blond leatherman entered Thirstysomething and asked Fred if the manager was around.

            – That’s him in the corner. Colin Colby.

Fred pointed a hook in Colin’s general direction.

            – Thanks.

He went over and wished Colin a good evening. Colin looked at him with considerable interest.

            – I wonder if I might have a word. My name is Lucas Lawson and I’ve recently returned from working in a hotel in Brno, in the Czech Republic, for five years, after losing my hands under a number thirteen tram.

            – Unlucky for some.

            – Yeah. I was persuaded by the Czech surgeon that the best option for someone with my length of residual limb is to have them formed into Krukenberg pincers. They aren’t the prettiest but practical enough. When I heard about your bar, I thought I would ask you if there might be any employment on offer. I need a job and have been having trouble being accepted due to these.

He lifted his Krukenbergs onto the table. His leather jacket had been tailored so that the sleeves ended just below his elbows. Colin was fascinated by the alien appendages. Lucas spread his pincers wide and closed them again.

            – These don’t prevent me from using ordinary artificial arms with hooks but I can’t afford to buy any yet.

            – Well look, Lucas. As much as I’d like to give you a job, we don’t have any openings at the moment. Do you live locally?

Lucas named a neighbouring town.

            – Leave me your personal details and I promise to get in touch if we have a vacancy or if I hear of anything suitable. Fred! Bring us a notepad and pen, please!

Fred brought them over. Lucas used both pincers to position the pen in his right arm.

            – Name, phone number, email. How old are you, Lucas?

            – I was twenty-seven yesterday.

            – Congratulations! What were you doing in the Czech Republic for so long?

            – My mother is Czech, from Brno. I was staying with an aunt rent free and working in the town’s top hotel.

            – Interesting. And you’re home again now. Thanks. Would you like a beer?

            – Yes please.

            – Fred, two lagers, mate. We don’t have any Czech beers. It’s too expensive to import foreign beers these days.

The beers arrived and Lucas spread his right pincer and picked up the heavy glass of beer. Conrad watched in wonder.

            – I wish you luck finding work, Lucas. You’d be a valuable addition for any employer.

            – Thank you for saying so.

The other staff had noticed Lucas’ exotic arms and compared them to their own split hooks. Lucas left shortly, said goodbye and returned to the street.

 

On Thursday morning at a few minutes to six, the whole household was awakened by the sound of Victor sobbing in the kitchen. Both Colin and Conrad wanted to discover the problem but were helpless to move from their bed. A few minutes later, they heard someone leave the boys’ room and ask Victor what was wrong. It was Marc. He knocked on his employers’ door.

            – Come in, Marc. What’s going on?

            – Victor can hardly talk. He’s in quite a state. Do you want some help getting up?

            – Yes please.

            – Hang on a minute while I get my arm on.

They heard him telling Craig the same information.

            – Shells and chairs? Do you need the loo first?

            – No, I’m ok for the time being.

            – Me too.

            – OK, let’s get you sitting up first. Fresh stump socks, where are they? Oh here. Try and lift your bum up a bit. Right. Can you wriggle down while I hold it in place? Now your shell. Wriggle a bit. OK. And hold tight, here we go. Do you want your arms?

            – Not yet, thanks. Maybe in a minute.

            – Your turn Colin. Squeeze down if you can manage. And repeat. Arm? No, OK. Lifting now. I’ll do up the safety belt, hang on. And yours, Conrad. Who wants to lead the way?

            – Push me in first, will you, Craig? Victor, mate. What’s happened? What’s wrong?

            – Oh, everything’s wrong! Colin! My mother had a stroke in the night and they’ve taken her to hospital. I’ll have to stay home to care for her and I’ll have to leave you.

Another bout of sobbing ensued.

            – Well, maybe it isn’t so serious, Victor. Have you spoken to a doctor?

            – Yes, just before I came here. She said mother is paralysed.

            – Oh, I am so sorry, Vic. Look, we’ll be alright here until you know more about your mum. Go home and wait for the news. We can’t have you working when you’re upset.

            – Alright, thank you. I’ll let you know when I hear anything.

            – Yes, now off you go, Victor. Try not to worry too much. They know what they’re doing.

 

            – God help us if he hands in his notice! Marc, I need a piss.

            – Me next.

 

During Saturday, the bad news was confirmed. Victor’s mother had suffered an embolism which left her permanently paralysed down her left side and at least temporarily mute. Victor was distraught. Colin told him to stay home and prepare for the arrival of an invalid. Victor sobbed that he had better hand in his notice after all this time. He was so sorry. Colin said he would be paid for the whole month and always to feel free to ask for help with a little loan or something.

            – Well, we shan’t be seeing Victor for a while, at least. What are we going to do about us?

            – We definitely need some extra help. We can’t rely on the boys all the time. We’re enough of a handful for them already. Don’t forget they have jobs to go to!

            – I wonder if one of them would consider staying home with us rather than going to work?

            – We’ll have to ask them. What about pay?

            – It would have to be the same as they’re getting now. No-one would take a pay cut, would they?

 

Next morning, Conrad brought the subject up as they all sat in the kitchen eating brunch.

            – Colin and I were wondering if either of you two would be interested, that is to say, willing, to stay home and look after this place full time instead of working at one of the bars plus wiping our bums.

            – Craig and I have been thinking about the situation. It would be a bit much to expect us to work both here and at the bar. Sorry if that sounds unkind.

            – Not at all. You’re absolutely right.

            – And so we decided that if you asked us, I would volunteer.

            – Marc mate, that’s great! When can you start? Haha! Your pay would stay the same. Can’t expect you to accept anything less. You’ve seen the sort of things Victor does. He only does them so early in the morning, did, I should say, because he only worked until midday. There’s no reason for you to get up at six and start doing laundry if you’re here all day. Shall we say, starting Monday morning, zero zero hours? Thank you so much, Marc – and you Craig. Very much appreciated.

 

Best of all, there was now a vacancy at Thirstysomething for a handsome man with Krukenberg arms. Colin sent him an email.

 

Lucas -

Due to surprise circumstances arising since we spoke last week, I can inform you that there’s now a vacancy at Thirstysomething. If you are still free to start work, please come to Thirstysomething at five p.m. on Tuesday. (Mondays closed always). I will explain the employment conditions, wages and everything else and you can sign the contract and start behind the bar straight away with your new colleagues.

Vítejte!

Colin Colby

 

Twenty minutes later, Lucas’ thanks arrived. He would be proud to join Thirstysomething.

 

Colin announced the new recruit at brunch next morning.

            – I’ve managed to find a new guy for Thirstysomething. He starts Tuesday. Guy was working abroad as a bar tender and was run over by a tram. He lost his hands and his stumps were given the Krukenberg treatment.

            – And what’s a one of those, pray tell?

            – Well, the flesh between the two bones in your forearm is split lengthways, wrapped around each bone and sewn up. When it heals, you have two long fingers which you can move and grab things with. It’s called Krukenberg after the inventor. There were so many arm amps in Germany after World War One that it was quicker to get them back into society with this operation than having them wait for months and months for a fake arm. It isn’t often done here these days because it looks so shocking and we mustn’t frighten the normals but they still do it in Central Europe. It lets you keep a sense of touch, which we don’t with our steely little fingers.

            – Sounds fairly drastic. What’s he like?

            – Oh, tall, blond, twenty-seven last week, quite good-looking. His name is Lucas. Wears a leather jacket with the sleeves cut short.

            – I just realised - I’m not going to be able to get my second amputation now, am I? There was talk about me having my second grypher by the end of this month.

            – Marc, we’ll work something out. There are quite a few guys from OneOff ahead of you in the queue already so it wouldn’t have been this month in any case. Are you OK for the time being, Craig?

            – Yes, I’m very pleased with my peg. I don’t want my other leg off or an arm off. Not yet, anyway.

            – Well, that doesn’t sound very final!

            – You know there’s a kind of competition going on at OneOff, don’t you? The guys who have had legs off this summer because they want two peg legs, they want to see who can be the most disabled and still work.

            – I had wondered about that. But I’ve not heard any rumours that something like that is going on.

            – I reckon that by this time next year, there’ll be at least two DAKs working on the back bar. I mean, if you let them keep their jobs. But if I might speak freely?

            – Go right ahead, Craig.

            – It would be hypocritical to dismiss any of the current staff who disable themselves more when the whole idea of both bars is based around amputees.

            – Craig is right, Colin. Both of us have undergone, shall we say transformations, and we’re both still at work. If Steve or Alex rocked up wearing a torso socket, how could we tell them with a straight face their career is over?

            – Well, we couldn’t. It would raise all kind of legal questions, even if they’d taken advantage of a process which we have to initiate ourselves.

            – I guess we’ll just have to wait and see how it all develops. OneOff is designed for pegleggers. Put word out among the staff, Craig, that DAKs wearing stubbies is not in line with house policy. Sounds a bit officious but that’s the way I think. Now, what are we going to do today? Shall we go out for a walk in the park?

            – Sounds good. When?

            – Let’s go right now. Maybe we could have a meal out too.

Marc fetched a couple of clean hoodies. Craig helped Colin and Conrad into them and secured their seat belts. Neither bothered with shorts. Craig and Marc were more or less ready.

            – Ready! Let’s go!

 

Colin pumped his wheelchair’s control lever and performed a perfect turn. Conrad shrugged his prosthetic arms into a suitable position, locked them and pushed his wheels into motion. Craig strode alongside on his blond wooden peg leg and Marc snapped the lights off and followed. Colin and Conrad had shown more willingness to get around since adopting their unplanned wheelchair lives and impromptu outings like this created a stronger bond between the limbless employers and their disabled young employees. Before returning home, they stopped off at a bistro for burgers and enjoyed being the centre of attention.

 

Colin and Alex were in Thirstysomething working on orders and settling invoices two hours before opening time. Colin asked if Alex had heard of any kind of one-upmanship between the staff about more limb loss.

            – Not exactly. I know Trenton wants his other arm off so he can use bilateral hooks. I think he’s the only wannabe on the staff. I don’t have anything against it. It’s his business and Tim manages just fine with his two hooks.

            – Trenton is such a good bloke. He does everything that’s asked of him, like being our go-to chauffeur. I think we should give him priority on his modification.

            – Yeah, I’ve got it nothing against it. Shame to lose him for three or four weeks, though. He’s the only one who can reliably mix those cocktails the leathermen like to order. It’s like they try to come up with the most obscure drinks and Trenton just churns them out.

            – No reason why he wouldn’t be able to churn them out using two hooks, is there?

            – No, I suppose not.

            – And I should have told you this earlier, sorry Alex. There’s a new guy starting today. Marc won’t be coming in any more because we’ve given him another job somewhere else. His name is Lucas Lawson and he’s a DBE. He has lots of experience as a bar tender abroad and I hope he’ll be a good match alongside Trenton.

            – DBE with hooks, you mean?

            – No, not exactly. Ha! I’m going to keep you in suspense. You’ll see soon enough. It’s a quarter to five. He’ll be here in a minute. Can you nip upstairs to see if there’s anyone waiting up there?

 

Alex opened the front door and peered out. Someone wearing a leather jacket and engineer boots over skinny jeans was standing on the top step watching the street.

            – Hello! Are you Lucas Lawson?

Lucas spun around and replied.

            – Yes, that’s me.

            – Come on down. We’ve been expecting you.

Alex held the door open and let Lucas pass. He saw Colin and raised his right pincer.

            – Hello Lucas! I’m very glad to see you. Welcome to Thirstysomething. This here is Alex. He’s the foreman, so if you want to know anything, ask him. I’m always here in my corner and you can ask me anything, too.

            – It’s good to meet you, Alex. Sorry I can’t really shake your hook. We’re incompatible in that regard. It’s good to meet you.

            – And it’s good to have you join us. I understand you know something about cocktails.

            – Yes. I think I have a fairly good repertoire of cocktails. Are they popular here?

            – We have a clientele which excels in demanding exotic mixes. I don’t know why they do it, but they do and we try to keep up with them.

            – Sounds like fun. I should probably change my clothes, shouldn’t I?

            – Lucas, come over here first. I’ve got the employment contract I mentioned. Read it through and if you agree that this is the sort of place you’d like to work in, sign it.

 

Lucas manoeuvred the paper and held it in his pincers. After a minute, he turned the page, read more and asked for a pen. Alex gave him one holding it at an odd angle in his hook and Lucas used a pincer to pluck it from the hook. He signed and dated the contract.

            – That doesn’t look much like my old signature but that’s the way I sign these days. There you are, Mr Colby.

            – Colin! Everyone is on first name terms, here and in OneOff.

            – Er, what’s that? OneOff?

            – Oh, you haven’t heard about it? Well, in here, the staff are all arm amputees like yourself. In OneOff, they are all leg amputees. But because that’s so common anyway, we stipulated that they should all wear peg legs instead of artificial legs.

            – Hovno! You can’t be serious?

            – I can indeed! You’ll have to drop in and see for yourself. It’s on the High Street. We’re about due for another joint get-together, come to think of it, when you could meet them all. Anyway, back to the present. Alex will give you our uniform, which is a t-shirt with our logo on it. It will expose your stumps but that’s the whole idea. Otherwise you can wear what you like. Shorts, leather trousers, kilt. And there should be a free locker back there. I’d like you to start working behind the bar tonight. I won’t be watching you. I have other stuff to do, so be yourself, be patient with the customers and try not to get frustrated when they ask about your Krukenbergs. Because they will. But the next time they see you, they won’t.

            – Oh yeah, I know that. I have a couple of fairly risqué replies for when people get too nosy. It usually stops them without offending them.

            – Well, good luck, Lucas. Welcome to Thirstysomething. I’m sure you’ll enjoy it and that we’ll enjoy having you.

            – Thank you, Colin.

Alex put his right prosthesis around Lucas’ waist and guided him to the changing room. He was infatuated with the tall blond newcomer with the perfect face. So was Colin.

 

S E P T E M B E R

 

Conrad contacted Philip Lee, explaining that he had a growing number of employees who had succumbed to stump envy. He was both unable and unwilling to prevent it and wondered if it were possible for the Amputator to accept simultaneously a larger number of patients. Conrad currently had five amputees in his employ wanting further amputations. The Christmas holidays and New Year would be ideal from his business perspective, minimizing staff absenteeism, but how would the Amputator and his assistant react?

 

Conrad -

How delightful it is to hear from you again. I have heard through a very exclusive grapevine that you yourself have undergone corrections since we last met. How exciting for you! I had not realised that the oak socket, which I remember well, was intended for your good self. How I envy you the luxury of a body shell as I struggle along on my pegs. But that is neither here nor there.

 

I have contacted my friend who informs me that quite exceptionally, he is able to accept up to but not more than seven candidates between Christmas Eve and New Year on Wednesday 22.12.27. All recipients of adjustments will be accommodated following one collection. I have no idea where that is, and I do apologise.

 

Personally, I shall be able to work on the prostheses for your young men throughout the holiday period. I travel very little recently. Nothing would bring me greater pleasure. All your scans will be reproduced before the lucky new limbless leave my friend’s facility. They will depart sporting their new wooden prostheses, if they desire. How happy I am that serendipitously you did not return the scanner when you visited. I beg you to please keep the device. It appears to be of much more use to us both when it is in your possession than in mine. Henceforth, please regard it as your own property.

 

I would also like to inform you so that you can further inform your enthusiastic employees that I have acquired a quantity of an exotic dark wood which was confiscated from a dishonest importer in Hong Kong. It is a Brazilian wood, almost black, and it has purplish streaks deep into its surface. It would make for supremely beautiful peg legs but I do recommend that your new prospective arm amputees especially learn of it and consider requesting it for their arm prostheses.

 

I wish you good fortune.

 

P.L.

 

Conrad replied that he was very glad to hear of the extended possibilities and would be in touch soon. He weighed up the pros and cons of letting seven of his staff disappear for several weeks at the end of the year. Colin would be affected at Thirstysomething too, obviously. They would have to discuss what to do. He was sure neither of them would want to prevent their more than capable amputee staff from achieving new body modifications but was not enthusiastic about having so few staff available for several weeks. It was not fair on the remaining employees. It was something which needed to be discussed with everybody present.

 

One good way, he thought, was to arrange a get-together and thrash it all out once and for all. On a  Monday when the bars were closed. They could discuss amputation and its continual attraction together. A really open and honest talk amongst the entire staff revealing who was amputated because of an accident, or through self-mutilation or by paying an accommodating surgeon. Conrad knew there was a pecking order between traumatic amputees and wannabe amputees. It was not problematic but it might be a good thing for everyone to talk about it candidly.

 

 

Colin brought it up at brunch.

            – There’s something we need to talk about. There are a number of guys at Thirstysomething who want more modifications. They want their arms or hands off, in other words. I don’t know what we’re going to do about arranging it. It’s getting a bit tedious sending off the same old emails every time someone wants a lop and chop.

            – Mate, it’s exactly the same at OneOff. Every time one comes back with a new stump, someone else is inspired to have another leg off.

            – And I still want this hand off. While you’re at it. I want another grypher. Just in case anyone has forgotten. I want it more than anything else. Another beautiful stump.

            – Marc, please be patient. We’re trying to figure out a way to get everyone seen to by the end of the year. There are so many of you all trying to get the new bodies you want that it’s difficult to keep up.

            – So I might have two gryphers next year?

            – I should say it’s more than likely, Marc. I hope you’ll still be able to run the place and help us with two gryphers.

            – I’m sure I will. I already use my grypher more than my meat hand as it is. It feels stronger.

            – I never stop admiring it, mate.

 

The ‘A’ Factory gradually attracted new customers and had become a regular venue for local amputees, a place where they knew they need hear no intrusive questions, only friendly enquiries. Conrad managed the bar every night after Steve had slotted him onto his trolley and managed without too much effort to serve customers what they ordered. If there was anything he could not fulfil, he simply asked them to collect it from downstairs because, as he explained, he was prevented by his acute limblessness from acquiring the necessary ingredients. Hardly anyone ever bothered and settled for something less complicated.

 

The display wall was gradually filling with unwanted artificial limbs brought in by customers. They were arranged in diagonal rows. A good selection of prostheses was on display, from peg legs with leather sockets to small bionic arms for a child. It was the only visual interest in the entire space but exceptional and appropriate.

 

Despite its niche clientele, The ‘A’ Factory began to succeed financially. Many clients of OneOff preferred to go upstairs away from the view of wannabes and devotees into their own semi-private space. Conrad was pleased with himself, showing Colin that he could still bring in the bacon. OneOff had become the most popular bar on the High Street and competed favourably among the under-fifties with local pubs.

 

Colin and Conrad worked jointly on a speech which both would deliver the following Saturday before opening hours in their respective domains. All their employees would be present. Everyone would learn of the situation. They could decide amongst themselves on the outcome.

 

At a quarter to twelve at OneOff and at ten minutes to at Thirstysomething, the entire staff of both bars was present, waiting for their limbless bosses to begin.

 

            – Thank you all for turning up in good time. This won’t take long. I’ve discussed this for many weeks with my partner and after many negotiations with other parties, we have this proposal concerning your further body modifications. A total of seven of you from both our bars are eligible to receive the modifications you want on condition that you guarantee you’ll be able to continue in your jobs after the work has been completed and you have your new prostheses.

 

            – The total price which has been negotiated is one hundred thousand. That includes amputations by a surgeon, rehabilitation by a specialist and a wooden prosthetic limb. One hundred thousand divided by the number of new amputees. How many of you want to go ahead? Three. Wait while I check with the other group.

 

Colin phoned OneOff.

            – Hi mate. I have three here. How many of yours? Also three. Are they sure? OK, I’ll confirm it and we’ll go with that.

 

            – Three prospects from the other location. So the amount each of you will pay is sixteen thousand six hundred and sixty each. That can be paid over a period of two years max, which means seven hundred a month. Can you all afford to have that deducted from your wages every month for two years? If you can, I’m obviously paying you too much. Only joking.

 

            – Are any of you amputation candidates now unwilling to proceed? No? Are you others willing to forgo your days off while the new amputees are recovering? Looks like it. I don’t want to invite able-bodied temps in to cover for you.

 

            – So shall we go ahead? Go ahead with getting some streamlined colleagues? OK. I’ll start the countdown and in December you’ll be under the knife.

 

Colin wheeled back to his customary corner and Conrad asked Steve to attach him to his trolley in ‘A’ Factory. They planned new schedules for December and decided to stay closed on the twenty-seventh in compensation for remaining open from noon until two a.m. both days of the new year 2028. And then they appraised their staff members returning modified in early January. Tim wanted his right knee off, becoming a double amputee with only one knee. Michael wanted his truncated left leg to lose its knee. Weston wanted to lose his right leg mid-thigh to become a bilateral above knee amputee. He insisted that his left prosthesis and his new peg would be adequate for bar tending. Conrad did not doubt it but wondered what the rest of Weston’s life would be like. It seemed quite a sacrifice to make in the name of one-upmanship. But amputation was its own reward and the possibility of seeing Weston using two peg legs was something to look forward to.

 

Colin had compiled a similar list. He would have to let Lee, Marc and Trenton go for at least a month. Lee wanted symmetry and his right elbow amputated. He wanted a pair of beautiful wooden arms like Conrad wielded. Trenton had made it well known that he wanted to become a bilateral hook user and Marc wanted to replace his right hand with a second grypher. So many new artificial limbs. Colin had an uncomfortable erection thinking about it.

 

He decided it was high time he got a new shell. His black carbon torso socket still fit perfectly and looked arresting but its base was a little shallow and the codpiece was a bugger to try to remove. He phoned Conrad.

            – Hi! It’s me. Are you busy? Well, this won’t take long. Can you bring the stump scanner home tonight? You have still got it, haven’t you? I’ll explain later. Love you! Bye.

 

Conrad brought his scanner home and asked Colin why he wanted it.

            – I’m going to jump the queue and have Lee make me a new shell. I love the look of yours and I want one too. And on top of that, I want a big wooden codpiece. I had an erection tonight and it was pushing the limits, if you see what I mean. I need room to expand. And my new shell is going to have leg stumps.

            – What do you mean?

            – I feel unstable sometimes. Always being strapped into whatever I sit in is a bit of a nuisance. I was wondering if I had a shell with leg stumps sticking out in front, I might be a bit more stable, feel a bit more secure.

            – Yeah, I get it. What length of stumps are you talking about?

            –Something about twenty centimetres long that would poke out from a pair of shorts, for example. Nicely rounded wooden stumps, completely useless except for stability.

            – Colin, I’m getting an erection.

            – Good! Keep it up. So you want me to scan your stump and send off an order before the Christmas rush?

            – Precisely. And if you like what you see, you can order one like it. It will be your Christmas present.

            – Mmm, prosthetic stumps for Christmas. I like it!

 

Craig helped the pair into bed and removed their shells. Conrad pushed Colin’s torso onto its front in the darkness and carefully worked his own torso onto Colin’s back. He grasped Colin’s head between his stumps and kissed his neck and throat, relishing the stubble of his man. He slowly twisted his lower body so his genitals reached Colin’s arse crack and rocked his torso until his erection pointed down towards his lover’s anus. After several attempts to penetrate, Conrad’s penis found what it had been prying for and he contorted his legless stump to fuck deeper than he had ever known or imagined possible in his previous life. Both torsos ejaculated and soon slept in their own warm cum.

 

O C T O B E R

 

A courier delivered a sizable package which Marc signed for and dragged in front of the boss’s bedroom door. The guys arrived home at about two fifteen and Marc poured everyone drinks. It had become an evening, or early morning, ritual. One for the road. It was a way of keeping Marc in the loop, sitting in the common room after work, slowly shucking their clothing and prostheses while enjoying a g&t or vodka and tonic. They spoke of what had gone on at the bars, swapped details of new sightings, new disabled customers, new prosthetics.

            – Colin, you have a package waiting for you.

            – What? Where is it? Why didn’t you tell me sooner!?

            – It’s in front of your bedroom door. I thought you might want to open it in private.

            – You know what it is, don’t you? It’s my new shell with stumps.

            – That sounds very exotic. What do you mean?

            – I mean it’s a wooden shell like Conrad’s but my new one has two leg stumps sticking out in front. Don’t worry, you’ll see it tomorrow morning.

 

They did. Craig knocked and entered shortly before eight after seeing the alarm light flashing. Conrad had installed a rocker button to the bedhead which activated after five seconds of pressure.

            – Good morning, you two! I hope you slept well. Marc and I have had some coffee already but we were waiting for you to get up before we had anything to eat. Well, Colin. What will it be? Your carbon shell or the wooden one?

            – Stop farting around, Craig! I want to be in the wooden shell as soon as you get me pissed and wiped.

            – Coming right up.

Craig half lifted, half pulled Colin into his wheelchair and took him to the bathroom. He held his employer’s torso over the toilet bowl tightly and watched as Colin’s stream went nowhere in the right direction. It was only urine. No matter. He seated Colin in the garden chair and wiped his face.

            – Can you spray my underside, mate? Conrad and I had a bit of a session last night.

Craig cleaned Colin’s groin and threw a towel over a shoulder. He carried Colin back to his bed and dried him. The torso sock came next. Craig pulled it over Colin’s body.

            – Can’t wait to try out my new socket, mate. I haven’t slept for thinking about it. Just the thought of having stumps again makes me moist.

            – Yeah, I can see you’ve been moist during the night.

            – It was fucking great, mate. Don’t knock it!

Craig positioned the new torso socket so Colin could force himself into it and lifted him upright.

            – Ha! Look at these! I can try to lean forward and not topple over. Oh man, these are going to be so good in the chair.

Colin’s wooden stumps extended forwards about twenty centimetres from his socket, slightly splayed and looked very much like natural thigh stumps, except for their glossy wooden surfaces. He would be able to sit in his wheelchair without being strapped in.

            – Look at the size of the codpiece! I wish I could fill that.

            – Slap it on and give me my arm. I want to see if I can take it off myself.

The oversized wooden codpiece had rings attached on its right edge which, it was hoped, Colin would be able to grasp with his hook and manipulate when he needed to piss. Replacing it was another matter but at least he would not foul himself inside the shell.

            – Yeah, look at this! I can pull it off. Just what I wanted. Fix it back on, will you, Craig? Thanks. Conrad, time to get up, mate.

            – Ergh, already? Hi Craig. Good morning, lover boy.

Craig gripped Conrad by his armpits and carried him off to the bathroom.

Ten minutes later, all four were sitting around the breakfast table.

            – Your new stumps look just like the real thing, Colin. Can you sense them?

            – I feel like I can’t lean forward too far any more. The base is solid and my new codpiece feels like I have room in there.

            – It looks very impressive.

            – I’m going to try dragging myself around on the floor. Maybe with stumps, I’ll be a bit more adventurous.

            – Well, we’ll be here to give you a hand if you need it.

 

Lucas had quickly become the most popular staff member at Thirstysomething. Apart from his blond stubbled beauty, he had a manner with customers which the other bar staff could only wonder at. Perhaps it was the way he cocked his head and glanced at his customers, shyly flirtatious, when taking orders or the fluid way he wielded his shocking pincers. All the staff liked him, Colin was infatuated with him, the customers liked him. Colin suspected the recent ten percent rise in custom was due to customers extolling his virtues and attracting new clientele.

 

Lucas himself loved his job and his new mates. He admired their prosthetic arms and felt self-conscious about his own mutilations. He brought the subject up with Colin late one evening.

            – Hello, can I talk to you about something? I’ve had my Krukenbergs for about a year and I’m very self-conscious of them in here where everyone else uses hooks. The only trouble is that I can’t afford to get a decent pair of arms. Your friend Conrad had a beautiful pair and I would like to know how I can get something similar. With hooks. I think I will be able to use hooks.

            – Lucas, I am sorry you are not happy with your pincers. I know some customers actually come here to see you use them. You have a lot of charisma and your split arms are part of that.

            – Thank you for saying so. Colin, but I want a pair of arm sockets with hooks .

– I think the bloke who makes our arms has a model on his files which you might like. Lucas, you have been such a boon for Thirstysomething that I suggest we split the cost fifty-fifty. Thirstysomething will help pay for your new pair of muscular wooden arms.

            – Thank you very much! That sounds great. Will they be the same design as what Trenton is planning?

            – They could be. Would it be a bad thing if you and Trenton had identical arms?

            – No, not at all. I understand Trenton’s design is based on the arms of someone at OneOff?

            – Yes, it is. And is that the sort of thing you’d like? Hooks? Beefy forearms?

            – Yes. I’d like that very much.

            – I can promise that you will have them. I’ll tell Conrad to let Trenton have the scanner and he can scan your arms.

            – Thank you, Colin.

Colin watched his remarkable mutilated employee return to the bar, clear some empty glasses from it and gyrated his growing erection into a more comfortable position. Now his new codpiece had enough room to accommodate it.

 

Another day, another brunch. Ten o’clock had become the accustomed time for fresh coffee and toast. Craig managed the preliminaries like getting Colin and Conrad into their shells and donning their arms  while Marc prepared food and coffee.

            – I really like your new shell, mate. I think I’m going to get one of those next time I order. Something with stumps. I can see how they hold you up.

            – It feels great. I don’t know what the stumps are feeling but they sure stop me from falling forward. You ought to get a shell like this, mate.

            – Yeah, I think I will. I love the way your codpiece pokes out between your stumps. You have room in there to swing around.

            – I do. Is there any more toast?

 

Conrad was struggling with a sudden boost in trade. The ‘A’ Factory was beginning to attract people from further afield, curious to experience a bar atmosphere where almost everyone was an amputee. There were only thirty-two seats available and the place was fairly full on several evenings a week. Conrad was the only bar tender and although he wielded his hooks as efficiently as possible, queues for drinks occasionally formed. Something would have to be done.

 

By the end of the year, Weston would have become a DAK. If he used stubbies, he would be able to work behind ‘A’ Factory’s low bar with Conrad and the long back bar downstairs. Conrad would have to ask him about whether he would consider wearing stubbies for work rather than a full length peg and his old prosthetic leg. It was Weston’s personal preference, after all. And The ‘A’ Factory would have to foot the bill.

 

Conrad finalised December’s arrangements with the Amputator, communicating through Philip Lee. There would need to be an advance payment of thirty thousand to be received no later than December fifteenth. That meant each candidate would have to find five thousand before then. He decided to hold another get-together the following Monday in The ‘A’ Factory from six until midnight. He sent text messages to Steve and Alex and asked them to let everyone know. Some of Thirstysomething’s crew had not yet visited ‘A’ Factory and some at OneOff had yet to meet Lucas.

 

Monday rolled around. They all slept late having got home at half past two. At twenty to eleven, Marc extracted himself gently from Craig’s embrace and went to make a pot of coffee. Colin was half awake and heard his movements and pressed the alert button. A blue light flashed in the boys’ bedroom and in the kitchen. Marc filled a cafetière with boiling water and went to help Colin and Conrad up.

            – Morning! Ready for a new day?

            – Good morning, Marc. Thanks for coming. I need a pee and a quick wash. And some coffee.

Marc lifted Colin’s torso and carried it belly up to the bathroom. Colin’s lack of an armpit made him more awkward to carry safely.

            – Coffee’s on its way. It looks like the weather’s fine. Shall we go out for lunch? There’s salmon and potatoes if we stay in. I should get some food in. Shall I place an order or would you like to do it?

            – You can do it. You have a better handle on what our situation is. I only know about Thirstysomething. Can you spray my underside? Remember we’re going to OneOff tonight for Conrad’s latest update on the amputations. He must have ordered some grub too so we can fill up then rather than go out twice.

            – Salmon it is, then. OK, ready?

Marc carried Colin back to the bedroom where Conrad was awake and sitting up.

            – Morning Conrad. Are you OK for a minute while I get Colin fixed?

            – Yeah, go ahead.

Colin slipped into his shell and Marc attached his prosthetic arm. Colin transferred carefully to his wheelchair and sat watching while Marc tended to his lover. He was surprised and impressed that neither of the guys had ever complained or shown anything less that enthusiasm for toilet and dressing duties twice a day, every day. He was concerned that in the new year when Marc’s other hand was replaced by a grypher, life might be a little more precarious. Craig was always willing and helpful but being one-legged, carrying torsos was always more risky.

 

Steve stood by the door acting as host waiting and let his co-workers in. Conrad, Colin, Marc and Craig had arrived early and were upstairs in The ‘A’ Factory. Soon everyone would be up there. Being a smaller space, it was more conducive to some frank and honest talk. Conrad had ordered a quantity of sushi which Steve had taken upstairs. Everyone could help themselves to beers. By ten past, the last guest, Louis, had arrived on crutches, wearing one peg leg. He went up with Steve and the meeting began.

 

            – I wanted to call everyone together to give you an update on the situation regarding the Amputator and your revisions at Christmas. Thank you all for coming. Help yourself to the food. First of all I would like to introduce Thirstysomething’s latest staff member who joined us last month. Lucas, stand up, mate! This is Lucas Lawson, late of Brno in Czechia, and an expert on cocktails. Lucas works without prostheses for the time being but has a pair of muscular arms and hooks on order. I’d like to thank Mick for allowing us to use his handsome arm as the prototype. So once again, Lucas, a warm welcome and I hope you’ll enjoy working with us.

 

            – Now, as far as your amputations are concerned, the Amputator is prepared to perform six. The amount of accommodation available is strictly limited and everyone must be out by January fifth. Those of you having leg amputations are reminded to take crutches with you. Those of you losing arms must ensure that you have new prosthetics either waiting or on order. The maker of our wooden prosthetics will receive scans of your new stumps soon after healing has begun and will produce limbs based on them. He wants you to know that he has a quantity of very dark Amazonian wood with purplish streaks which is probably already extinct and which he suggests would look spectacular as prosthetic arms. Anyone who prefers the light colour wood like my arms should let me know very soon. Your new peg legs will all be the light wood so those of you getting your second pegs, you can be assured that they will match.

 

            – So far, plain sailing. However, the Amputator unexpectedly requires a down payment of thirty thousand to be paid by December fifteenth. Which between the six of you, makes five thousand each to find in seven weeks. I am not going to comment on what I think of such a large sum needed at such short notice, which is far more than is needed to buy in anaesthetics and new bone saws. But you must pay that amount to OneOff’s business account – the account number is always on your payslip – and I will forward the total amount to the Amputator. Then there is the small problem of getting to the halfway meeting point. Public transport is almost non-existent so I suggest renting a minibus. I assume the rest of the journey will be made in their Land Rover which will be a squeeze but feasible.

 

Colin and I have made the decision to close both bars from December twenty-third until the thirty-first. On New Year’s Day, both will be open and staffed by relaxed, happy men who show no sign of the previous week’s debauchery. Which reminds me, help yourself to beer. The ones with legs can bring some beer for the legless to save them the bother. Where was I? Oh yes. Just so you know who will be missing for the couple of weeks until the fifteenth January, they are Michael, Weston and Tim from OneOff who will all become legless, and Trenton, Lee and Marc from Thirstysomething who will all become bilateral hook users. Marc works elsewhere currently but I still regard him as being on the staff.

 

            – Now, it has become obvious that some kind of competition is under way, regarding who can become the most disabled without making themselves unemployable. Louis, I don’t especially want to single you out, but if you could stand up for a moment, please – and everybody watch him!

 

Louis picked his crutches up from the floor and used them to push his chair back. He scooted forward in his chair so his rigid peg leg tilted and touched the floor. He angled the crutches so they pointed behind him and pushed himself erect in two stages, correcting first his crutches and then positioning his peg leg. He stood and grinned at his mates.

 

            – And that is our limit. Louis has a prosthetic leg which he keeps downstairs and wears when he is working so he does not present such a disabled persona to our customers, although some of them would enjoy seeing it, I have no doubt. But I believe one or maybe two of you will be returning in January as double above knee amputees and I have no doubt you both want to wear two peg legs , but you can’t do it here. Our policy is one leg one peg. I don’t care if the leg is wooden if you can use it. Similarly, we are going to have our first double above elbow amputee at Thirstysomething and while I have no doubt that he will be able to serve our customers as well as he does now, that is not something I want to see. And I say that as a severely disabled quadruple amputee. Having both your arms off above the elbow is a no no. Don’t do it while you’re working here, please. We love having the entire personnel, one hundred percent, being amputees and we know that you admire each other, but the stump envy has to stop. Oh, sit down, Louis. Thanks, mate.

 

Louis made sure there was a chair behind him, threw his crutches onto the floor and collapsed backwards grabbing the seat with his hands. His peg shot out in front of him.

 

            – I have decided that as the situation stands on January fifteenth, we will not be arranging any more amputations for our existing staff. But we will arrange for new prosthetic limbs and we encourage it. We’d like you to be as limbless as you want but also able to function. In a few rare cases, the firm will help out someone who wants or needs an upgrade to their prosthetics. The prosthetics will have to have wooden sockets, because the guy who makes them uses wood only and they are very beautiful objects. I haven’t seen one of the dark wood prosthetic arms yet but it sounds stunning.

 

            – And now on to more personal matters. Lucas was able to join us because my assistant left our household and Marc offered to step in to help Colin and myself in our home. There are a couple of things we have trouble with, you see. So Marc and Craig moved into our flat and we all get on like a house on fire. And we are very grateful to them. So now you know where Marc went.

 

            – And finally – international fame beckons. The German tv company Deutsche Welle has approached us wanting to make a twenty minute documentary about Thirstysomething and OneOff. They apparently have a series dedicated to showing disabled people doing normal things like it was some kind of eighth wonder, whatever, and they want to come and video everyone in February. Anyone not willing to be seen on German tv? The episode will also be on YouTube and probably on every devotee site until the end of time but if no-one has any serious objections, I’ll invite their crew over and let them see what we’re all about. We might get some German visitors next summer as a result, also lernen sie ein bischen deutsch, bitte. That means, learn some German, please.

 

            – Thanks everyone for listening. You’re a great crew to work with and we appreciate every one of you. Now help yourselves to sushi and beer and have a good time. We have to be out at midnight.

 

Everyone applauded or knocked hooks on tabletops.

 

As was to be expected, Lucas was the centre of attention, not only because he was the new boy and had worked abroad but because of his physical appearance which varied from astonishingly handsome to astonishing in the space of one metre. He had kept his leather jacket on with its shortened sleeves and demonstrated his pincers to anyone who wanted to see them closer. They were indeed shocking but also  desirable and one or two arm amputees began to imagine themselves using fleshy prongs instead of hooks. The Krukenbergs also incorporated a certain degree of phallic symbolism. Two adjacent dicks together. Lucas had heard that before but no-one mentioned it that evening. They thought it, though.

 

The next morning, just as everyone was tucking in to brunch, the doorbell rang. Marc went to answer. A courier handed over a rectangular package and faked the customer signature. Marc took it into the kitchen and showed it to Conrad.

            – Where do you want this?

            – Who’s it from?

            – Can’t make the name out. Jamison something?

            – Oh, I know what it is. Lucas’ new arms are in there. Shall we have a sneak peek? Well, it is addressed to me so I am entitled to. Marc, open it up, will you? Be a bit careful, we don’t want to scratch them up.

Marc slit the edges and pulled the flaps open. Nestled inside a mass of gyroid paper lay two black muscular prosthetic arms with deep red and purple streaks covering their surface. Marc picked one up and the black sheen turned to a deep maroon. The streaks sparkled like glass in the sunlight. Two standard Hosmer Fives were attached, cables leading up to a black leather harness were taut and glinted as Marc inspected the socket.

            –He’s a lucky man to have such beautiful gear.

Marc’s own exotic grey grypher did pale in comparison.

            – OK, let’s put them back. I’ll give them to Colin to deliver. Are you going to let Lucas have them immediately or are you going to wait until Christmas week?

            – Ah, the guy can have them right away. He won’t be able to use them because he’ll need stuff like stump socks and moisturiser but maybe someone can loan him some. I can’t wait to see his face.

            – They are so gorgeous that I’m thinking about ordering a pair.

            – Well, Marc, there’s nothing to stop you. I don’t know how much of this wood Lee has but I would suggest that if you want a pair after you come out of your revision, you better act now. This must be extremely rare. I’ve no idea what wood it is.

            – Shall I, Craig? They’d cost, what, seven thousand something? Have we got that? I’ve got about four saved up. Can you lend me the rest, mate?

            – I’ll check what’s in our account and let you know, just a minute… We have just enough after you pay the five thousand up front, mate. Get yourself a pair and have hooks instead of gryphers. To tell you truth, I don’t like the sound they make.

            – Marc, in that case come to OneOff with me this afternoon and I’ll have someone scan your stump. If you stipulate to the Amputator that your other stump must be identical, Lee can get to work immediately before he runs out of this wood. But I have to say, you’d look pretty cool with muscular arms in the colour I’ve got. Nice steel hooks on them.

            – Never seen you with a hook. I think you’d look great. Especially with two. Do it!

 

Another order was shortly on its way to Philip Lee who replied with thanks in his customary florid fashion. He mentioned that the quantity of wood he had available was sufficient for another five pairs of arms if necessary. Conrad thanked him and wished him a joyous Saturnalia.

 

D E C E M B E R   &   N E W   Y E A R

 

The guys on the amp list were clearly getting excited about their new configurations. Tim and Weston had sold their cars, Mick and Trenton had inheritance money, Marc had just enough saved because of not needing to pay rent and Lee talked his bank into a loan, with Colin’s endorsement, for a new set of prostheses without mentioning his upcoming amputation. Conrad forwarded thirty thousand to the Amputator’s account and shortly received confirmation that all amputations would go ahead as planned.

 

Marc put Colin and Conrad to bed, still wearing their wooden body sockets.

            – Leave us like this, Marc. We’ll manage. Good night.

Marc retired to his room and snuggled against his one-legged lover.

            – They’re wearing their sockets tonight. Neither have removed their codpieces. I wonder what they are going to get up to?

            – That doesn’t matter. What are we going to get up to? Do you know what I’m looking forward to most? When you have two stumps and wank me. Or if you wear your hooks, how you will touch me and pinch me. You’re going to be the sexiest guy alive and I can’t wait.

 

Marc had removed his employers’ arm prostheses and hoped they would manage but they had other ideas. They both wanted to experience the extreme sexual frustration of chastity. Trying to fuck each other when encased in wooden shells might be fun. They both had insistent erections and by using their heads against pillows and their bicep stumps, they were able to face each other. Conrad gripped Colin with his stumps and Colin gripped as hard as he could against Conrad’s shell. Both men fucked inside their shells, the glans of their penises never touching the inner surface, desperate for release. They used their neck muscles to work their torso sockets into a rhythm where they crashed against each other and eventually, after twenty minutes of prosthetic foreplay, both torsos ejaculated and fell against each other where they remained for much of the night, too tired to change position.

 

Marc cleaned the pools of drying cum from their codpieces and sponge bathed the men. He asked if it had been a successful or frustrating fuck. Colin was a little surprised by the blatant question but said it had been a successful exploration of the erotic side of amputation. Marc asked Craig later if he might consider amputating his left leg above the knee in order to be able to fuck better. He knew about Conrad’s January fifteenth deadline but wondered if requests proffered before that date might be considered. He longed to see Craig on stubbies. He would caress them with his arm stumps and worship them.

 

Stubber asked Colin if Thirstysomething could be closed before Christmas on a Sunday night to everyone except members of the MC clubs he influenced. Colin replied that he would do so if a certain number of guests were guaranteed. Stubbers estimated a couple of hundred.

            – My god! Where are we going to put them all?

            – I know for a fact that these chairs are stackable. So put them in the corners. The tables can go outside the back for the night. We’ll help you bring them back in, don’t worry. So there’s standing room only amongst the sculptures for a good three hundred if not more.

            – You’ve got this all figured out! It’s a great idea, mate and we’ll do our best to make sure your annual meeting goes according to plan.

 

Saturday the eighteenth was to be the Night of the Leathermen. Colin hoped there would be enough staff to prevent queues and asked if he might borrow a couple from OneOff to be sure. Conrad replied that there would be no problem with that except there wouldn’t be enough room behind the bar for four or five bar tenders. He could send a couple of guys with hooks to OneOff for the night. They always did a great job but they probably would not be able to keep up with the demand from two hundred men.

 

Trenton and  Lucas would handle the expected demand for cocktails at Thirstysomething. Fred would go to OneOff and Mick and Weston from OneOff would help out at Thirstysomething. It seemed like a fair swap.

 

On the evening just before six, the air vibrated with the sound of motorbikes. Some knew of the parking space behind the premises and some parked diagonally half on half off the pavement outside. Lee greeted all the guys pouring into the bar, taking a few crash helmets for safekeeping. The guys were met by Stubber. After ten minutes he was lifted onto the bar counter and whistled to demand attention.

 

            – These disabled people here are our friends. For two years they have welcomed bikers and leather men twice a week for leather nights and I won’t hear a word against them. You will treat this place as if you owned it and you will behave yourselves. No smoking inside, no jizzing on the floor. You can smoke out the back. Piss in the toilets only. You can use the normals’ or the invas’. Having said that, I am very glad to see men from the two clans who have made their peace and arrived to enjoy themselves and celebrate our leather brotherhood. And now, someone get me the fuck down from here.

 

A cheer rang out and backs were slapped. Trenton and Lucas had their work cut out as word spread among the leather men that the local tradition was to order exotic cocktails. Lucas realised what he was in for when the first order was for two Cheesy Peacocks. He’d never heard of that but translated it into Czech in his mind and realised what it was. He manipulated layers of Bailey’s, Cointreau and mint liqueur into two tall glasses and pushed the disgusting combination towards two guys who looked like they had last shaved in the late Nineties.

            – Thanks mate. I love your arms. I’d like to suck on ’em some time.

Lucas responded with his sly look and called Next!

 

So it continued. Stubber was the unofficial host and kept a close eye on everyone. There were no unpleasantries apart from some private bitching.

 

In OneOff, Fred was causing quite a stir with his prosthetic dexterity. His leg amputee colleagues watched him, pleased they had lost legs, not arms. Several customers may have drunk one or two too many that evening because of enjoying the sight of a guy with hooks serving their drinks. Steve thought Fred might be a good addition to his OneOff team and decided to suggest it to Conrad. There were certain advantages in having two legs when it came to shifting stuff around. It might work out well.

 

The twenty-second of December arrived. Grey skies, windy and the most anticipated date on the calendar for six amputees around the town who would soon possess new stumps. Alex had volunteered as chauffeur and, after several attempts, found a hire car company which accepted a double arm amputee driver. A ten-seater electric minibus was delivered at nine in the morning to his home address and Alex spent twenty minutes attaching a driving ring to the steering wheel. Soon after ten, he set out collecting his mates from their homes. The ones who lived with their families had concocted stories about driving to Switzerland for a skiing holiday with the lads over Christmas. Tim had decided he would not even tell his family about his new AK stump. They would never notice the difference. Lee would also not be telling his single-parent father about losing his only elbow. Let him notice in his own time. See how long it takes, he thought.

 

The journey progressed and the bus sounded like it was full of excited children off on a school trip to the zoo. They were going to get what they wanted, be together for two weeks, miss one Christmas and its faff for once and walk out on new peg legs or with compromised upper limb function. It would take months to recover their current abilities with the increased orgasmic sensations of owning, wearing and using uniquely beautiful wooden arms.

 

Jamison was waiting for them at the War Memorial when they arrived at thirteen forty-five. He was sitting in the Land Rover, the interior of which had been gutted and provided with blocks of foam rubber. Everyone exited the vehicles and greeted each other.

 

            – We have a journey ahead of us which may take up to three hours in today’s weather so I suggest that those of you wearing peg legs remove them and hop into the back of the Rover. I’ll stash them in the skibox on the roof.

He slapped it. 

            – Also, it will be a bit of a crush so if you three want to take your arms off, do so now. You’ll probably be more comfortable and you are not going to need your hooks for a while.

Lee kept one of his but otherwise they shucked their arms. Jamison took them with surprising care and placed them into foam padding in the skibox.

            – Now, let’s be on our way. We have a strict timetable up until Christmas Day and it will not do to keep your surgeon waiting. My name is Jamison Fincher and I am your nurse and prosthetician. I’ll take care of the technical side of making your new limbs after the sockets arrive from the maker. Everything you have ordered from him will be delivered while you recover here and you will leave fully healed, healthy and sporting new prosthetics and new stumps. I envy you greatly.

 

The journey took almost three hours. Jamison was especially careful on the road and rarely went above forty km/h. The route took them through barren landscapes strewn with rock, past abandoned cottages and colourless fields streaked with light snow. A low triangular silhouette appeared ahead and the Land Rover pulled up in front of the granite structure, fronted entirely in solar glass which reflected the surrounding landscape and rendered the building almost invisible again.

 

            – Welcome to your destination! Please wait while I collect your limbs. Leg amputees, if you sit at the back you’ll be able to put your pegs on first.

The three of them crawled towards the back and pushed the door open. Half of it including the window rose, the bottom half became a wide shelf. Their pegs were handed to them and they quickly identified their own. Soon they were standing outside in the gravel yard. Jamison stood by waiting for them, an artificial arm hanging from each hand. He reached up to extract the last one. A couple of minutes later, everyone was dressed, and standing to attention waiting for further instructions. Jamison closed the doors of his vehicle and appraised the group of young men.

 

            – Let’s go inside. Wait in the entrance hall.

Glass doors slid open as Lee reached the entrance first.

            – Two of you will undergo amputations this evening. Two will undergo amputations tomorrow and the last two on Christmas Eve. For men in your physical condition, it is not a long operation. Electronic regenerative tissue therapy will commence immediately and your wounds will have healed by the end of the first week well enough that you will be able to bear weight on your fresh stump. For arm amputees, recovery is even faster. Rehabilitation will be thorough and rigorous and you will all be thoroughly familiar with every facet of your new prostheses before you leave here.

 

            – Now let me show you to your rooms. There are currently no other patients here so you have the freedom to mingle and make as much noise as you like. You must change into the facility’s own indoor-wear which you will find on your beds. It is light, warm, comfortable and stylish, and no, you are not allowed to take it with you.

 

            – Let’s go. Room one, Weston. Two, Marc. Three, Tim. Four, Trenton. Five, Michael. Six, Lee. Trenton and Marc are first up for new below elbow stumps. Get changed, think positive thoughts. I’ll collect you very soon after I have spoken to the surgeon. Tomorrow Lee and Weston will be revised. The day after, Tim and Mick.

 

He waved the young men toward their rooms and left for a short discussion with the Amputator who had been watching their entire arrival remotely. What a pity, he thought, that Timothy Bryant wanted only one knee off. He would talk to the man to persuade him to maintain symmetry and balance by suggesting amputation of both knees.

 

Jamison returned within the hour and asked Weston to climb onto a gurney. He wheeled the young amputee on his way to becoming a double above knee amputee. Two short leg stumps had always been Jamison’s favourite configuration, which caused him the most energetic ejaculations when he imagined himself in his patients’ situation.

 

The Amputator checked his notes and produced a perfectly symmetrical stump. Weston would never again kneel nor kick unless on unfeeling prosthetic legs. His work done, the Amputator retired to a bathroom and masturbated himself to orgasm. Fifteen minutes later, Jamison brought Marc into surgery. Here was a young man who wished to use two gryphers. Both arm stumps should be identical to receive wooden prostheses from Philip Lee, already ordered. It was a simple operation. Marc’s right hand and lower arm was discarded into a galvanized steel bucket for incineration and regenerative electrodes fixed around the new stump.

 

The two newly processed individuals were sedated and slept until late next morning. They were prevented from awakening and immediately showing off their new stumps to their comrades.

 

At nine o’clock next morning, the Amputator knocked gently on Tim’s door and waited to be invited in.

            – Good morning, Tim. I hope you are feeling fit for your amputation. Let me see your stumps. Yes, as I suspected. You have a beautiful symmetry to your body which helps you with control over your artificial legs. I am very concerned that after the amputation which you have requested and which I am happy to perform, you will forever experience a sense of imbalance, of incompleteness, which can be easily prevented here today by one sensible measure.

            – Do you mean that with one below knee prosthesis and one above knee prosthesis, I would be unstable and unbalanced?

            – Yes, but not only physically. Your brain will always be compensating for the imbalance, which can be exhausting. Even after your previous amputations, you were always symmetrical. Now, I am more than willing to provide you with your new stump but I do wish to enquire whether you might at some future date wish to acquire a second AK stump to even you up and give you a symmetric body again.

            – I see. And you would recommend amputation of both knees now?

            – Indeed, that is what I am suggesting. It is entirely your decision. I have the papers here if you wish to undergo the double amputation of your knees. You will heal just as quickly. A new peg leg can be manufactured in time for your departure, and I see you have your own crutches.

            – I have thought about a double amputation since I decided on the first. I am concerned only about the cost, otherwise I’m convinced. Please amputate both my legs leaving thirty centimetre stumps. I want to use prosthetic legs and pegs.

            – Of course you do. It will be done. Two for the price of one. You are a wise young man.

Tim signed the papers. The Amputator called for Jamison and a gurney. Tim transferred himself onto it, glanced down at his knees for the last time and lay back to become legless in a new way.

 

The Amputator looked down at the new DAK and called for Jamison.

            – Take this one away and keep him sedated for at least the next week. When his peg arrives you can wake him for rehab. I don’t want him making a fuss in front of the others in the interim when he discovers what leglessness entails.

            – I understand, sir. Will you do a third amputation today or will you postpone it until tomorrow?

            – This afternoon is good enough. Why waste time? It’s only a below elbow, is it not?

            – It is, sir. Mr Trenton Carder, already a left below elbow amputee. He wishes to be symmetrical and hopes his second stump will match his first.

            – Of course it will! Let us have lunch, Jamison. A thick juicy steak would be perfect.

 

Trenton lost his good arm that afternoon and became a double amputee. He had always fantasized about presenting as a man with hooks. Hooks poking from shirt sleeves and from the sleeves of leather jackets, or displaying the entirety of his artificial arms with bicep cuffs and shiny, rigid sockets visible to everyone when he wore a tank top. His second stump was the same length as his first. The socket which Lee had already completed using Amazonian black wood would not go to waste.

            – Keep this one under sedation for another week, too. I don’t want him wandering around complaining about being disabled.

 

Trenton had chosen a seriously disabling amputation. The Amputator did not understand the determination his usually young patients possessed to use new prosthetic limbs in order to function, and impress, and shock. Society had progressed from the days when a disabled man was shunned. Now he was often the centre of attention. The Amputator’s mentality had been affected by his military past. He had amputated the shredded flesh of hundreds of young soldiers who never thought they might one day be hobbling on bionic legs or trying to use electronic silicon hands. What would their girlfriends think? How could they ever go home to their weeping parents? He did not understand the mentality of those for whom amputation was the ultimate achievement and the foundation from which to experience life with a variety of artificial limbs. He did not understand why so many of his patients desired split hook prostheses from the last century nor wooden peg legs. He was like an artist who could paint a picture without appreciating the scene. Still, he painted very well.

 

The next day, Christmas Eve, it was Mick’s and Lee’s turn to receive their Christmas presents. Mick was first and had his below knee stump transformed into an above knee stump. The Amputator checked his handiwork carefully and approved the electronic recovery process. An above knee amputation was always a great achievement and the Amputator enjoyed a pulsing erection under his greens but decided to invite the final patient in. Jamison arrived with Lee.

            – Young man, I am your surgeon. I see you are already severely disabled. You wish me to amputate your elbow, is that correct? You wish to use two above elbow prosthetic devices. Is that correct?

Lee nodded that it was.

            – I have a suspicion that you will return here soon to request further revisions to your arms and I will suggest now that you agree to the removal of both your stumps from the shoulders. You will be able to use electronic protheses. The wooden prostheses which your generation suddenly seems to prefer will not work for you. Do you agree that I should perform dual shoulder disarticulations of both your residual limbs?

            – No, I do not! Please amputate only my right elbow in such a way that the length of the stump matches my left stump.

            – I understand fully, young man. Please relax into the anaesthesia and trust me.

 

The Amputator produced an exact mirror image of Lee’s upper arm stump.

            – This one doesn’t need tranquillizing. Let him recover and mingle with his friends.

 

A courier delivered the anticipated artificial limbs on New Year’s Eve. Jamison handed the peg legs to his legless patients and set about completing the arm prostheses with cables and harnesses. The arm amputees could practise on their own, having already used prosthetic arms for several years, but the newly legless needed some guidance. The two new above knee cases were fairly helpless and worried if they would be able to use a solitary peg. Jamison coached them to strut back and forth along the gravel yard outside the facility on a single peg and crutches. They could do it very well and both enjoyed their new rigidity with insistent erections. Tim was especially keen to prove himself in his new skill at walking on one peg. It would, he hoped, be his future. He realised that concealing his new amputation from his father was impossible. His father would know immediately. He would return home far more obviously disabled than he had been before going away and questions might be asked to which he had no answer. Discussions with the other guys about their fate produced no viable excuses. He was going to have to return home on one peg leg and crutches instead of a peg and his BK prosthesis. How would his father react to his leglessness?

 

By the twenty-seventh, Jamison had finished his work on the wooden arm sockets and distributed his handiwork to the armless patients waiting for them. Trenton and Marc had identical muscular forearms which terminated in hooks. They both tried masturbating themselves with their hooks until they realised they would achieve more if they masturbated each other. Lee received his above elbow pair and thrust his stumps into them.

            – The harness feels strange. I’ve never had the same weight on both sides.

            – I want you to practice raising your forearms up and down first. You’ll get the idea. Just do it. Lots of times. I have to go and see to the leg guys.

 

The leg guys were doing fine. They had used peg legs before and knew how to secure them, how to rise from a sitting position and how to move the peg when walking. Jamison watched them with envy. Such beautiful men. Such elegance. He encouraged them to wear their new pegs every day until it became uncomfortable, but the boys removed their pegs only at bedtime.

 

On the fifth, at ten o’clock, Jamison packed the newly amputated youngsters into the back of the Land Rover and repeated his request that they shed their artificial limbs for storage in the skibox. Jamison drove the entire distance into town, rather than leaving the boys at the War Memorial. Six near torsos returned home, one by one, returning to their own flats or to their parents’ homes.  Jamison left them to their own devices and drove home.

 

Tim’s father saw the Land Rover pull up outside and his son struggle out with only one peg leg. He became erect at the sight of his son strutting towards the house, carefully negotiating the steps until he disappeared from view. He opened the front door and embraced his legless boy.

            – You have gone too far, my boy. I now have a legless son. Mere stumps. Go to your room and wait. Take your clothes off and your peg.

            – Are you going to fuck me, daddy?

            – Yes, son, I am going to fuck, the way you like it. I love you, Tim.

He watched as his severely crippled son crutched towards his bedroom on his solitary peg and worked his own erection into a better position. He followed shortly and saw his son splayed on his bed.

            – Come inside, daddy!

            – I will son, don’t worry.

He removed his passive artificial hand and lubricated his stump. Laying alongside the newly legless body of his son, he worked his stump deep into Tim’s anus until Tim ejaculated. 

            – Thank you, daddy. Do you like my new stumps?

            – I have never seen anything finer, son. You do me proud.

 

The others returned to their homes, welcomed by parents who apparently noticed nothing amiss in their disabled offspring’s demeanour, particularly after a skiing holiday. Boyfriends reacted more enthusiastically. But Trenton’s return was greeted by complete rejection. His boyfriend refused to stay with a double amputee and began searching for new accommodation immediately.

            – I didn’t mind you having one fake arm but I will be dipped in shit if I’m going to have you touching me with two stumps!

 

Lee let himself into his flat and stood in front of the full-length mirror in the hallway. First he shucked his jacket and looked at his silhouette. His two muscular arms looked alien and inappropriate for the rest of his body. He became erect and went into his bedroom. He pulled the duvet around his groin, turned over and fucked into it until he came. His artificial arms flailed uselessly at his side and he ejaculated again, enjoying the sensation of wearing prostheses.

 

Marc returned to the flat. He pressed the downstairs call button, went up a floor and rang the doorbell. Craig shouted I know who that is and strutted out to let his lover in. Marc stood there, two hooks hanging from his sleeves. Craig embraced him and pulled him inside. They had prepared a low-key celebration. Marc’s new twin stumps fascinated Craig, who had encouraged them. Marc could still wear his left grypher but his new wooden sockets and hooks looked superb on him. Craig shortly rose onto his leg and asked Colin and Conrad to excuse them because something had just come up.

 

            – I love Marc’s stumps. They’re just the way arm stumps should look.

            – I’m concerned about the way he’ll look after us in the next few weeks.

            – We’ll manage. Don’t worry.

 

They did manage, after a fashion. Craig found himself doing the heavy lifting at home and then going to work in the evenings. Marc became morose and depressed. His hooks were not as useful as he had hoped. He had only his old grypher and a new one was several pay packets away. With just one grypher and a stump, he was not of much practical use to Colin and Conrad, not being able to lift them. Craig became short-tempered with Marc and the atmosphere in the whole flat was tense. Conrad had had enough.

            – I am very sorry to have to say this but I don’t feel comfortable in my own home. Either you two improve your attitudes or I will ask you to leave. I am extremely grateful to both of you, as is Colin, but something has soured and I can’t deal with it.

 

Craig had already been flat-hunting for himself. He suspected that Marc was not going to climb out of his funk. He was no longer interested in using his prosthetics and often spent the entire day without them. He was on the verge of splitting up with his boyfriend of several years when something turned up, as things often do. As the guys ate brunch one morning, Marc received a letter from a solicitor. Craig opened it for him.

            – Ah, I can’t believe it! My aunt Christine, you know, she died of cancer in the summer. She’s left her flat to me. And a load of money, most of which has gone on death duty but the flat is mine outright. It’s on the second floor of a converted house in Church Street. Craig, we have our own place!

Colin and Conrad looked at each other and mouthed Oh fuck.

            – So does that mean you’ll be moving there?

            – Con, it’s for the best, isn’t it? I’m not able to do what you need me to do and I hate leaving everything to Craig. It’s not fair. So it’s only reasonable that since we can’t keep our end of the bargain, we ought to move out.

            – It’ll be a few weeks yet, though, won’t it?

            – Yeah, I expect so. We need to get it in shape, new furniture, that sort of stuff. But you’ll have to find a new carer. With us gone, there’ll always be someone who agrees to help you in exchange for free rent.

            – Easier said than done, mate. Where are we going to get a new lodger or two?

            – Well, I know Lucas is looking for a place to live nearer than the neighbouring town. Ask him. Do you think he could help with his Khruschev stumps?

            – Krukenberg. Is he really? Jesus, imagine Lucas putting us to bed at night! What do you say, Con? Shall we ask him? When is this all going to be happening, Marc? I don’t want to sound impatient but when might you be leaving?

            – Shall we say two weeks? Two week’s notice? The end of the month.

            – Alright. That sounds reasonable.

 

The atmosphere brightened immediately. Marc and Craig would be getting their own home and Conrad and Craig might be getting Lucas.

 

Lucas had taken to wearing artificial arms with hooks which had been modelled on a OneOff weightlifter’s forearms. Trenton had an identical pair. The pair of them together made quite an impression. Trenton was not completely confident with his new bilateral hooks and sometimes missed having a meat hand but while he was at work, he needed only to watch Lucas or Lee for a couple of minutes to feel better about himself. They were both more disabled and functioned fine. He did not mind the appearance of his hooks or their limited functionality. He missed the sense of touch.

 

Late one evening, Colin beckoned Lucas over and asked him to sit down. He started by asking how Lucas enjoyed Thirstysomething and whether there was something else he might consider.

            – What do you mean, Colin? I’m not losing my job, am I?

            – No no no! Nothing like that. We love having you here. It’s just that – this is difficult to explain. I heard you are looking for a flat or something in town. I know of a large room in a flat share not far away which is free at the end of the month. But it comes with a couple of problems.

            – Oh, well I’ve lived in apartments in Brno with more than a couple of problems.

            – Yes, but the problems here are different. You see, the room is in my flat, where Conrad and me live together. We have live-in help but he’s moving out soon. The deal is that whoever moves in helps us two cripples with putting our prosthetics on and off, gives us a bit of a wash in the mornings and makes coffee. You’ve probably seen that Conrad and me have problems moving around and doing things with our hooks. We need another pair of hooks to help out. The plus side is that it’s rent free. We’d like to ask you to move in and help us, Lucas.

            – And do you think I’ll be able to do it? To help you? I’m a double amputee myself, Colin. I need help myself sometimes.

            – Ah, but four hooks are better than two, Lucas. Think it over. We really need help in the mornings especially, around ten o’clock, but otherwise we’re fairly low maintenance. Can you let me know, say, tomorrow?

            – Yes, I will. Thank you, Colin. I appreciate your consideration.

 

Philip Lee was having trouble with the manufacture of shoulder prostheses for a customer. He sent a message to Jamison Fincher and asked for advice. Fincher was one of the country’s top prostheticians, yet preferred to work well outside the normal run of things.

 

My dear boy, I hope this finds you well. I approach you now because I have run into a spot of bother with a pair of shoulder disart sockets which I have been asked to provide. I confess I can imagine no-one other than your good self who might avail me of my torment and I do request with utmost humility that you might come to my assistance at your earliest convenience.

P.L.

 

Fincher replied that he was on his way and would arrive before lunch the next day. He borrowed the Amputator’s Land Rover and set out. Lee’s problem proved to be quite easily solvable with a little knowledge of shoulder anatomy and a new pair of arms went into production. Lee thanked him profusely and struck out to the atelier on his short peg legs.

 

Fincher originally intended to drive straight back to the south-west but a thought struck him. How were the Christmas amputees faring? He could easily make a slight detour via the town and overnight at the Station Hotel. He would be able to visit both bars during the evening and see the boys in action with their prosthetic limbs. He was excited by the idea and reset the satnav.

 

He checked in at the hotel and went out for a walk. It was almost five and OneOff would soon be open. The dreary High Street was cold and windy but there were several new shops near to OneOff, including an interesting boutique which specialised in walking sticks, crutches and other orthopaedic paraphernalia. He had no doubt that OneOff’s presence was behind its existence. OneOff opened and Fincher entered and approached the bar. He was unmistakable because of his massive beard and several of the staff recognised him immediately.

            – How are you? Good to see you! What will you have? Take a seat, we’ll bring it over.

Fincher was consoled to see friendly faces. The Amputator had become not exactly hard-hearted but less accommodating and Fincher felt himself more a go-fer than a respected and skilled employee.

            – You are all very agile on your pegs. I love to see men whose lives I have touched doing well with their artificial limbs. It brings me great pleasure.

            – Will you be visiting Thirstysomething too?

            – Yes. I shall be visiting there very soon. Unfortunately I must drive back west tomorrow morning so I dare not indulge this evening. One will be enough. I came really to see how you are doing. I’m glad to see you so chipper.

 

Forty minutes later, he left and gave a fiver to Nolan on the door. He strolled through the desolate streets towards the station and turned right towards Thirstysomething. He had not visited the place before but knew of its existence, having worked on behalf of so many of its employees. He saw its lighted sign, crossed the road and descended the steps into the bar. Lee greeted him by saluting with a glistening prosthetic arm and a huge smile.

            – Jamison! So good to see you! Come here while I hug you!

Lee’s unfeeling arms could no more hug than feel but the two stood embraced as Lee felt the texture of the enormous beard against his face.

            – I can’t stay for long, Lee. I have to get back tomorrow so I can’t have too much to drink. Ha! Look at Trenton flashing his hooks. I’m glad to see he’s making a go of it. I was rather worried at one stage. Are you managing, Lee, with two above elbows?

            – Yes, I am, thanks. I have found the right movement which I do to change the arms’ function and it seems to work just fine with this pair. My man at home loves my bicep stumps. We have a great time together when he plays with them.

            – I’m glad to hear it. See you later.

Jamison approached the bar and several mouths fell open.

            – Hi there! Good to see you again! What are you doing round these parts?

            – I just thought I would pay a visit to my best customers. Also, I probably shouldn’t say this but I’m looking for a place to live. Getting a bit tired of living out there in the boondocks. I reckon if I moved here I’d have a ready market for prothetic limbs and the like.

            – You need to talk to Colin over there in the corner. He’s not only the boss, he’s also looking for a lodger.

            – Really? Colin who? What’s his surname?

            – Colby.

            – OK, thanks.

Jamison took his beer and walked over to where Colin sat in his wheelchair.

            – Good evening, Mr Colby. My name is Jamison Fincher and I worked on the prosthetic limbs which your recent amputees are wearing.

Colin looked at the bald and bearded man and recognised his description. He raised his prosthetic arm and pointed his hook.

            – Yes, I know you. I mean, I know of you. We’ve never met. I’m Colin Colby, part owner. Do sit down. I can tell you that the artificial arms which you made last year are working very well and have let us keep our staff on despite their additional disability. I was worried that they would become too disabled but they all seem to have been rehabilitated extremely well and I believe that’s down to you.

            – That may be the case, sir.

            – Oh, call me Colin.

            – Thank you. There is one thing I want to ask you about. I heard that you have a flat share and an empty room. I assume that living there would entail a degree of assistance for yourself and your partner, who I have not yet met but I know of through the prostheses I have made. Same address.

            – Yes, Conrad Alton and I live in the same apartment and yes, we shall shortly have an empty room. It is of a good size and the rest of the apartment is at our lodger’s use except for our bedroom. We need assistance with everyday functions because we are both severely disabled, Conrad perhaps slightly less than myself.

            – I am aware of your amputations. I have handled your torso sockets. I know the difficulties inherent in your amputations. However, I have worked as a prosthetician and rehab coach for twenty years and I can not only handle your requirements but also predict them. So I ask you simply, may I have the room?

            – Why do you want to leave the Amputator?

            – Is that what you call him? Quite apt, I must admit. He has become increasingly sadistic of late and I mistrust him. He was previously content to perform the amputations which clients requested. Recently he has begun to persuade them to agree to disarticulations. Apart from the total disability ensuing for the client, it means that I have no role. My expertise is in prosthetics. A stumpless torso is difficult to fit with prosthetic limbs.

            – Yes, I know that very well. Mr Fincher, I would be only to glad to offer you the room in our flat. You are a man of good character, I believe, and willing to help two cripples. The rent will be negotiable after I first speak with my colleague at OneOff. If you’d leave me for a moment’s privacy, I will do so now.

 

            – Hi, it’s me. How are you doing? Listen, you’ll never guess who wants to shack up in the boys’ room! Jamison himself! Yeah, that Jamison. How many Jamisons do you know? Yes, he has a big black beard. What I am asking is, would you accept him as an assistant to take over from Craig and Marc? I know, he turns me on too. So it’s a yes? Well, at the end of the month, I suppose. If we work it right, we’ll have Craig wake us in the morning and Jamison put us to bed. Shall I tell him? Do you want rent from him? No, I don’t either. Love you, bye!

 

            – Mr Fincher! My colleague and lover tells me that he would be delighted if you would join our household at your earliest convenience, which for us means the first of February. Rent free in return for your assistance where needed.

            – That would be most suitable. I need a little time to remove my equipment and collect supplies form various storage facilities but I will be ready to move in on the first. I have very little furniture or equipment of my own after a divorce three years ago.

 

I might add, if I may, that I find your range of amputations very interesting from a professional point of view. I have been working with artificial limbs for over twenty years in close collaboration with Philip Lee who is able to sculpt sockets for stumps very precisely. I think I may have a new design which needs to be explored by severely disabled men but which may enable them to use prosthetic legs. You are an ideal prospect.

            – Mate, you ought to see Conrad.

 

The 'A' Factory