absurdsense

My tongue pierced the esophagi of inebriated mongooses, which were not in the creatures throats, but rather slathered about the table along with abundant quantities of cashews, cocaine, and anti psychotics. A noise. I reach for my handgun, but found only a pair of mice, contorted and halfway into the bardo. They blinked at each other once totally inside. "Oh Clarence, " Julia von Mouseberg cried, "We're stuck entirely!" Clarence paced and ran his fingers through his whiskers, "Well, my dear, it is my opinion that the soul resides within the left earlobe and any piercing will result in instantaneous satanism," he continued into the void. The ship he knew could take them the billions of parsecs they had to travel through emptiness to reach their new home. He checked the life support and suspended animation systems and sparked up a doobie. The ship maintained inertia through the endless night. My jaw remained glued to that of the young boy, and we bled together, wept together, and screamed together through the morn. The next day, having eaten a whopping dish of entrails for breakfast, I went into the Wells Fargo office, ready to perpetrate more socially permitted forms of cruelty. Such is the game of life. You knew I never expected much. The light from the street was enough most nights to make out the bodies in our living room, or as one of the travelers called it - the rumpus room. So I cut my losses, swept the ashes into an empty bottle with my hand and looked at him.
"Nothing we do will bring out little Tyson back m'dear" Clarence always had a shitty attitude about girls who ate their young. He recycled the empty bottle as prompt as a mouse with Parkinson's could. I wondered if Julia von Mouseberg knew of our tryst, the most magical three weeks I had that fiscal year. Julia would never approve of the way I acted those days, nor agree with any of my outlandish requests, such as for 32 geese roasted on a spit with coals used to burn small children, or the time I demanded that my assistant be burn at the stake for witchcraft after I noticed that one or two of my funyuns were missing from their cages. The fight for freedom ha dbegun. Denny the gorilla took out the guard with a full nelson while the giraffes took care of the zookeeper. Due to the delicate nature of our viewers, I will not divulge how he disemboweled his coworkers in order to create the conditions for an orgy full of cross-species sex and bestiality. Needless to say, it was a failure, and the lonely zookeeper hanged from high noon in short months, never confessing to the priest he was a technopagan atheist at heart. The priest, unfazed, handed himan earthen vessel through the window of the confessional booth. Not flesh, but fermented like death the transmigration of grain to a form viscous and sweet. He said, "as it runs down your throat, it will trickle and take with it your guise, stripping you to our naked state: silent, solemn, and smelling like the dirt of the burnt earth."