Parallel Slalom

The project 'Parallel Slalom' is a mode of simultaneously writing 'parallel' stories by two authors on a previously set theme, chosen via a specific procedure. During the eight years of working on this joint venture, Ogurlic and Jurkovic have written more than a hundred parallel stories. This project gave birth to two books; 'Parallel Slalom' (ICR, 1989), and 'The Most beautiful Stories - Parallel Slalom 2' (Tiskara Rijeka 1993) and to a homonymous theatre production by Rijeka's ensemble 'Otvorena Scena Belveder'

Ogurlic '92


There are just two days left before the county derby between the football teams of 'Little Water' and 'Yellow Devils'. The hosts, officials of the 'Small Water' team, given their players five days of preparation at the Rogla mountain resort, so they can prepare themselves in quarantine and peace, because this derby is eternal. Their fans didn't rest, especially since the local TV station announced the broadcasting of the abbreviated recording of the match. The fans' headquarters had a session at the coffeehouse 'Chez Mario'.

- Have you prepared the slogans? - said ex player Ruzic, coordinating the whole action.

Sinisa 'Sike' readily answered with a few new verses and exclamations for chanting and scanning: 'Little Water, Little Water, we will fuck the Devils'; 'Little Water beats to quarters'; 'Little Water, no surrender', 'Little Water till the day of slaughter', 'Near the Water pit, played a yellow shit', 'Sime is a goal-getter, in-time setter'. However, everyone agreed the last slogan was not appropriate and rejected it.

- OK. When's the torchlight parade? - formally asked Ruzic, known amongst the fans as the 'Dread'.

- In the 47th minute - answered Iron, also called Chile Paprika, a renowned pyrotechnics expert. - We have a new green smoke screen. Fresh stuff.

- OK. Who will be sacrificed?

- Little Jadranov, he's the one. He said, as far as he's concerned - that he doesn't mind getting a sound thrashing. It will be just before the end, if trouble occurs.

- Fine - said Ruzic the 'Dread' and then he turned towards the policeman Viseslav, whose fan name was Blockhead: 'Start beating him as soon as he jumps over the fence. I will take care of instructing him how to 'pass out'...

- o -

Half an hour before the match, Sike came to Dread and said, worriedly:

- Fuck, what if Blockhead overdoes it with Little Jadro as he did when he launched Grco Tulip into a coma?

- We will collect money for the wheel chair. We desperately need those 30 secs on TV, old chap - said the legendary Dread.

Jurkovic '92


The meeting was opened by Purga, charged by direction to talk with the ultra-right wing of the supporter's group 'Stampede'.

- Before we start... - moved on Purga, but was immediately interrupted by the fans' leader.

- Pass on some beer, dammit, at least one container.

- I would ask you, Dear Supporters, to...

- You lying faggot, don't be a shiteater. The other day you disowned us in the newspapers! - yelled Rambus from behind the meeting hall.

- ... so, for a start, I would ask you to... - Purga tried again.

- You can pray to Dear God that we don't fuck the whole stadium up - someone hissed again.

- ... please, let us start...

- Start, may a dog fuck your bones - a supporter's fan yelled everyone else down.

- ... for a start, please do not throw the ash... - Purga proceeded.

- But what? Should we throw our dicks instead - snapped Stampede's member.

- ... do not throw the ash into the Club's cups - Purga went on, supplicating.

- Look at this shithead, dammit! This is not your fucking club, dickhead, I shit on that, these dickfull cups are the club's, which means ours as well, fuck it.

- Yeah, Joker's right, the cups belong to the Club, and not to the Direction.

- On the behalf of the Direction and players, I plead for the agreement.... Purga tried again.

- You can agree with your mother's cunt - supporter's leader snapped out at him again - and we are going to get ourselves a beer.

- Please, we have a chance to win the Cup this Sunday... - Purga tried again.

- I'll impale your arse - Stampede's leader called out and turned towards the fans.

Upon hearing the shout 'Sta- sta- stampedeeeooouuu' everyone started to overturn tables, flinging chairs at Purga and grabbing the club's cups from the shelves. After they ran out of the Direction's building with prey in their hands, they filled the streets surrounding the stadium with a song: The Cup is ours, the cup is ours, the cup is ours....'