arcthemonkey
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(This is meant to be absurd and hilarious.)
It wasn?t so long ago, that day. That was the day that I birthed forth, using the unbridled locomotive power of my urethral meatus, an unholy candle, thankfully devoid of any rogue spermatozoa. It was the birthday of my newest niece, a wizened pink abstraction of humanity, who had taken quite nicely to dribbling cold-brewed wrath from the perpetual pout on her lips. We were drunk with it that day, my brood and I.
The moment had come for the ceremonial sacrifice of virgin cake flesh, and without the slightest semblance of hesitation, I thrust forth the candle, like a thrust of the pelvis, deep into the loins of the freshly baked confection. A flaming matchstick hefted right handed, the crowd drew in a sharp breath, promptly gagging on the fumes of vanilla flavored wafers and also cigars. As the matchstick was quickly burning down, I hastily plugged the monstrous candle into the nearest unoccupied socket.
Nothing happened.
I knew I should have gone Japanese with the drugs that had served to father this hideous creation. I read on a bathroom wall somewhere that they have the freakiest drugs. Perhaps it was simply the fact that human energy sources did not operate at the proper nether-frequency to bring life to such a thing. People were now angry, tearing at their own eyes with serrated cake-spoons and vomiting forth the various bodily fluids that had already been consumed during the festivities of that day. Someone had quaffed 7-Up. Another, a mattress. It was in the throws of the veritable orgy of malcontent that it was heard in that old house a knock at the floor.
I knew those knuckles anywhere, and after making a vulgar show of ripping my John-Deer denim overalls from my fragile body, I tore into the floorboards like a vampire into banana pudding. The truth was exactly as I had expected it to be. It was as if it had been written in a book somewhere on a dusty shelf. A book only I had read. Who did I find there but Satan himself? No one, that?s who.
Buried up to his neck in the filth of the earth, he peered up at me, grinning wildly. I knew what he was looking at. He lusted after my genitals, the lord of perversity did! I cried out, ?I won?t let you have my babies!? and promptly set to work employing a booted fist to force him back down to his dark home at the bottom of the sea. In the commotion, and despite his labored, desperate gasps for life-giving air, he thrust forth an object clutched within his demonic kung-fu grip that stopped all of us in our tracks.
?Here,? he gasped. ?Take this strange, evil light bulb.?
I was forced to comply, since in our distraction, he had managed to catch my scrotum in a headlock. I was like scrotal putty in his hands. Reluctantly, but with a token air of defiance, I twisted the cackling bulb into the proper cake socket. Once the connection was made, the room was filled with a thousand demonic rainbows. In their compound eyes one could see reflected the favorite and least favorite moments of their lives, compressed in an instant to form an even greater moment. The family was brought to tears.
Satan, his work done, retreated back to the basement of the Vatican where he was fond of vacationing - the very same location where he had, so many years before, saved me from the Vatican spiders. The payphone was wringing in celebration of the best birthday ever.
It wasn?t so long ago, that day. That was the day that I birthed forth, using the unbridled locomotive power of my urethral meatus, an unholy candle, thankfully devoid of any rogue spermatozoa. It was the birthday of my newest niece, a wizened pink abstraction of humanity, who had taken quite nicely to dribbling cold-brewed wrath from the perpetual pout on her lips. We were drunk with it that day, my brood and I.
The moment had come for the ceremonial sacrifice of virgin cake flesh, and without the slightest semblance of hesitation, I thrust forth the candle, like a thrust of the pelvis, deep into the loins of the freshly baked confection. A flaming matchstick hefted right handed, the crowd drew in a sharp breath, promptly gagging on the fumes of vanilla flavored wafers and also cigars. As the matchstick was quickly burning down, I hastily plugged the monstrous candle into the nearest unoccupied socket.
Nothing happened.
I knew I should have gone Japanese with the drugs that had served to father this hideous creation. I read on a bathroom wall somewhere that they have the freakiest drugs. Perhaps it was simply the fact that human energy sources did not operate at the proper nether-frequency to bring life to such a thing. People were now angry, tearing at their own eyes with serrated cake-spoons and vomiting forth the various bodily fluids that had already been consumed during the festivities of that day. Someone had quaffed 7-Up. Another, a mattress. It was in the throws of the veritable orgy of malcontent that it was heard in that old house a knock at the floor.
I knew those knuckles anywhere, and after making a vulgar show of ripping my John-Deer denim overalls from my fragile body, I tore into the floorboards like a vampire into banana pudding. The truth was exactly as I had expected it to be. It was as if it had been written in a book somewhere on a dusty shelf. A book only I had read. Who did I find there but Satan himself? No one, that?s who.
Buried up to his neck in the filth of the earth, he peered up at me, grinning wildly. I knew what he was looking at. He lusted after my genitals, the lord of perversity did! I cried out, ?I won?t let you have my babies!? and promptly set to work employing a booted fist to force him back down to his dark home at the bottom of the sea. In the commotion, and despite his labored, desperate gasps for life-giving air, he thrust forth an object clutched within his demonic kung-fu grip that stopped all of us in our tracks.
?Here,? he gasped. ?Take this strange, evil light bulb.?
I was forced to comply, since in our distraction, he had managed to catch my scrotum in a headlock. I was like scrotal putty in his hands. Reluctantly, but with a token air of defiance, I twisted the cackling bulb into the proper cake socket. Once the connection was made, the room was filled with a thousand demonic rainbows. In their compound eyes one could see reflected the favorite and least favorite moments of their lives, compressed in an instant to form an even greater moment. The family was brought to tears.
Satan, his work done, retreated back to the basement of the Vatican where he was fond of vacationing - the very same location where he had, so many years before, saved me from the Vatican spiders. The payphone was wringing in celebration of the best birthday ever.