Monday, March 19, 2012

chapter seven - postmodernist apostate

we all watched the pole dancer die on Russian television the judges eat turtle soup and clapped with one hand under the table I was so proud for my Russian ballerina boom we all fall down and die like the plague passing through the town on a pale horse his bandana hiding the rope burns you can feel it but you can’t steal it the funk and blues it is in your bones anything that the radio played you can never change we are lions from creation this is my identity bowing to whatever you like it is a plant it is good for everything doing so much good for everyone rebelling against what a captivated mind making you look for yourself not in a sense of owing time for yourself so you can think for yourself to meditate a consciousness the laws are just a thing nothing to be worried about this guns and prisons of the people who want to hurt you I and I it is not a reality telling it through music the news for the people returning to be the king of kings the earth is the mother and the king will return an example one must follow looking outside of my prison the skin is of no significance cut out my eyes it is just the truth we are born into this hell our freedom was a prison of the flesh I am a man who was a baby once I have knowledge of myself we all thinking one way everything will be cool everything will be peace and love the taming of the lion I like it when it gets right it is like going to heaven in front of our people it was like a guest being independent it is strength that you can only know through experience I am searching for my people it is very necessary bringing you the life she owns the night tooth and claw I have come to use the saw upon your bones and to hoist your severed body up in the tree I will wrap you in Christmas lights and let you sparkle you always had such an electric personality even among the bums and dishwater blondes bumming another cigarette from a yuppie stranger another star gazer ready to join the unemployment line soundscapes and singularities they all get in line up against the wall ambient eyes comparing your methods to Paris Shetland if you are good you might get lucky get a radical name like dinky dinky and hone your battle skills get all dope on the techniques and the frequency distributions rent a public studio and make a demo tape throw down the lines one after a time when the odds are stacked against you invest in some rock and a glass pipe make friends with a brillo pad and the rest can be history as you sponsor a peewee football league someday you can watch your children playing for the Oregon trail
micro and macro economics asking me how to become a vampire I told you to keep watching dancing with the stars sonny what happened to your penis now you are a soft kitty Hugo is trying to write with his dick he has written with his soul his mind and his spirit he has even written with his guts but he has never written from his dick he wonders what would his dick write if he gave it half a chance Hugo pulls his dick out and asks it what would you write you bastard why don’t you write speak to me tell me what you are thinking what are your desires you are a part of me yet we are really strangers to each other would you write about murder about killing the whole world or would you write of love of dreams that you never achieved of lost love your silence is a betrayal as nasty as any criminal could imagine is that what you are a criminal a filthy rotten criminal do you silently plot to destroy me to stab me in my back when I am sleeping you stare at me with one beady eye almost mocking me yes that is it you are a criminal a sneak thief a murderer you gladly sold your soul to the chief of this world didn’t you I know that you are a great deceiver a bringer of harm and destruction I think you do write when I am asleep you stand up and look around plotting the world’s destruction you write your plans out and send them to your comrades in murder the evil spirits take your notes to the four corners of the world the four guardians of hell they are your generals you are amassing an army to take over the world to throw down the high powers to make the roads straight and to uproot the evil from the fields you are reaping where others have planted you will make us all even make us all poor we will share in the suffering you will make the mighty to fall they will stumble and be crushed by your might you will bring equality to this world with an axe and saw and the fires of hell everyone will be brought down the mighty will crawl at your feet begging you for mercy as you sit upon your throne Hugo put his dick back into his pants and stopped talking to himself
the car spinning down the highway out of control Hugo has a resplendent smile upon his face it is like he is frozen in time dear reader can you understand me it used to badass now it looks like some dipshit fucked it up and back on the medication again causing my hair to fall out in big fucking clumps I don’t care I will buy a wig or a big fucking hat she threw me a handful of drugs and said happy holidays trying to stay away from people who are bad for me all those psycho bitches I’m trying to understand it was irregular an outright punch she ached for two or three days she gave me back my clothes and that was nice going off to hit someone else not dealing with it again I am awesome and you guys suck I am fucking awesome beside that everything is peachy doing just fucking dandy chilling with old friends the roof is on fire can you lend me a bucket of water burning all those motherfuckers this is about my own experience my own life that is messed up she drank all my alcohol and she got upset everybody got upset and she felt so guilty too fucking afraid to get on board and she purged like an emo fucker all the wine she drank and the bits of the cat woman she doesn’t know what is going on around her it is all fucking kicking in half a fucking donut and some gravy train biscuits she will get over it and back to normal eventually to quit feeling this way dear children it is not fucking good I have a black eye and bruises all over beating the fuck out of myself last night beware of the shadow she is trying her best she has her flaws abusing herself this is better than real life it is so easy to make friends her mom is exercising upstairs her nympho mother eating crackers and applesauce my favorite fuck buddy she wants me to fuck her standing up while she flaps her wings and clucks like a chicken she is reading to me the broom of the system she thinks of herself as another Lenore Beadsman words are her reality I am building a forest in her backyard panting maples and evergreens the trees help her hide from god I’m still wearing my Christmas shoes we were living in sin among the Algonquin Indians I am traveling with my shotgun there is no flesh and blood there it is just a screen a two dimensional object I never encouraged the dimensionally challenged actually touching each other in the three dimensional world sexual desires one day she blurted it out that I was selfish I couldn’t relinquish the reins I wanted to control the wagon directing the horses she just wanted someone to sleep on the couch someone to be in the next room she was sincere with her razor blades
it was heartbreaking as she milked the disappointment and the technology for communicating the problem was that we weren’t communicating it was only a monologue one person speaks and the other one listens there is never a conversation only a one-side monologue it is not going to happen I can remember my girlfriend a vague picture of her face pops up but I can’t think of her name I remember she was a dance instructor she would lay in bed eating cheetahs I wonder where she keeps her tail eating all the cashews eight ounces a state of the art killing machine smart and mean talking to a good mean person a real story stomping them to death on stage as the people clapped and no one voted the government agent has stopped all transmitions they don’t believe in the words and the words have abandoned them I am gassing them up on warm Pepsi  I agree with the original participating in the shared delusion all these desperate people wanting to climb in through the window preaching to me about your punk girl politics building the first supercomputer to diagnose the cold the human cold in the brain dead world more aspirin and call the doctor in the morning applying for a position in the drug culture you want to be a mule or a runner for a drug  kingpin you like to fly and your legs remind me of a stewardess get your wings a mile high up in the air snorting cocaine off the toilet seat talking politics with an undercover agent  she sticks a cigarette in her mouth and pushes the cool button spawning opportunity as the smoke billows out I am dreaming of being a marine of killing for the pure joy of it I’m not here on this earth to make you happy I’m here to kill you I am burning my bank America card in a protest in Seattle the narc is pointing his gun at me and smiling just like betty crocker I wonder if he is hiding a cake behind his badge I tell the narc that he should read how to win friends and influence people he said he is reading winning through intimidation I guess it all depends on how you are wired some of you are wired up all wrong I’m working on my own private whiskey rebellion preparing for the maypole dance I have a pair of wire cutters in my bag and am prepared to use them mind you only in an emergency I have a few capacitors in my pockets and I could help you with your problem I could make you ring like a bell like a front door bell you would sing a sweet tune to inform us of your coming Captain Marc is flying the plane real low so that we can see the lay of the land he is looking for somewhere safe to land so that we can unload the cargo into trucks and get paid
my finger around the trigger is getting itching and I want to pull it more and more send the bullets through conservative idiocy this mother will never grow up to count his chickens betty crocker better hurry up and eat his cake once Captain Marc lands the plane he comes out of the cockpit with a five inch dagger and sticks it in the narc’s heart he said he might be from Kentucky but he is no republican we load the drugs into trucks and hitch a ride into the city we leave Captain Marc to get rid of the dead narc all by himself  he says he is going to feed him to the penis envy crowd at the museum of indulgences he says they like their meat human it is a real treat to hear Captain Marc play his guitar and pontificate about the troubles he has with his woman I once danced a jig around an old army jeep while he played a number about the devil and Mrs. Jones damn those were good times I remember how his eyes and the Christmas lights would sparkle as we drank from the jug of moonshine her eyes were wide open as they accused her of spying for the Russians she was dancing at the blue iguana and planning on changing her name to Matilda laying low in the private sector selling bibles door to door mostly for kicks since she could only make spare change bumming drinks from fraternity boys and whispering in their ears that she loves them her tight fitting black dress was an investment a business expense she could write off on her taxes Betty Boop is such a prognosticator she put on a wig and danced around the room singing whoops I did it again I asked her if she could do it again but with more feeling this time she gave it the old catholic school girl try she wore a pink sash that said industry
Gie where is your revolution and your trickle down political distribution the antichrist is still in his office he flicks his lamp on and off to send secret messages to his followers bertha my love where are you did you sell your soul to the goat for a piece of gold around your finger would you shake your ass for me again just like in the olden days I bet we could put Captain Marc’s wooden leg all the way up there we would all go find Tim and drink a few beers Tim would tell us of his days when he used to be a professional football player this was before he got into the god business he said being a god pays much better than the nfl he only wishes he could get more pussy I told tim that bertha was always good for a bounce or two Captain Marc untied bertha’s restraints and we watch Tim put his holy spirit into her when he was done he sat and licked his fingers in walks Mr. Perry and he kicks Captain Marc’s dog Mr. Perry and Captain Marc begin to fight and roll all over the floor bertha picks up the wooden leg and beats Mr. Perry over the head some people are broken and they never can be fixed sending a shudder through me harder than ever hanging like dark clouds the sky is full of nooses Tim and AC make a bet concerning bertha’s soul Tim thinks he can save bertha show her the way to redemption AC is always skeptical of tim’s optimism AC knows that things don’t always work out the way we have planned reading a tome of the exploits of frozen blue she says that you don’t have to do it twice once is always enough if it is done right Tim will believe in anything if it is packaged right it has to be sold to him in a certain way you have to appeal to his weaker side play on his human weaknesses the things that make us all stumble for example if you tell him that everyone is buying it then you can sign him up he will take twelve that is how I sold him my forged copy of the Guttenberg bible and he wrote the damn thing yes it is all in the packaging you can sell him a piece of shit if it is pretty enough it floats to the surface and his soul is captured at least for a moment selling him a glimpse at a greater shadow normally Tim was not interested in shadows he normally avoided then it was AC who was interested in shadows in fact AC counted several of them as his closest friends if anyone can be close with AC yet Tim would be interested in a shadow if the sun was aligned just right in the sky and on only certain days when the influence of the sun was at its weakest then tim could be persuaded to imbibe in the diabolical it was then that I could convince him that his fate was about to change he was about to step up to the plate and swing for destiny and everything was about to change for the good or the bad who knows certainly not tim and AC maybe bertha knew and most probably Captain Marc knew he knew lots of things that no one else knew or could even understand we are beginning to forget you the room truck was sleeping I awoke with a big headache bathroom towels
she rubbed her eyes paradise rides evening streets we proceed with a terrible face she ran across the street screaming to get in line for the quiz show an old man’s dirt road sweetness arrived at the house around eight in the morning haunted and flabbergasted tim told scary mary to believe to get down from his roof and stop lying to the na├»ve over the internet he asked scary how he wanted to be remembered as he wrote his obituary for the papers scary saw the light and repented for his sins we took a five gallon can of gasoline and burned down his shack they were going to put it in the Smithsonian and we just couldn’t stand for that a mysterious journey I knocked on his door at the 4th street slums Captain Marc spent long hours with AC discussing how to get rid of Mr. Perry AC was convinced that Mr. Perry was up to no good  I wrote a letter to Gie in prison explaining to him all of this the Mayan codices we see the lizard man on the nightly news he is telling us to look for the spacemen jabbing the needle into his arm Gie wrties back a month later and says he has found the spaceman it is the rise of rational thought and the creation of the iron cage Jane is going around counting all the workers in the field we are pulling up parsnips and carrots Jane keeps telling us to circle the wagons most people pay her no attention crazy is as crazy does and Jane has a full dose of crazy Mr. Perry asks Jane to marry him even though he has been married for 25 years he can’t help but fall in love with the crazy Jane helps patch up Mr. Perry’s wounds from his battle with Captain Marc and bertha she sings to him as she winds the cloth around his wounds she tells him that you don’t have to spend too much time in the pews to understand that Mr. Perry can’t fight worth a fuck she tells him that he is going to have to learn how to fight if he wants to be president Jane begins to teach him his first fighting lesson she teaches him how to kick somebody in the nuts how to poke someone’s eye out and how to knee someone in the face she tells him these are the first vital lessons that Abraham Lincoln learned when he first went into politics Mr. Perry looks like a bloody mess Jane has whipped his ass real good this was the beginning of Mr. Perry’s and Jane’s love affair tim asks Mr. Perry if he loves him and Mr. Perry says yes then tim tells Mr. Perry to kill AC Mr. Perry says he will try Mr. Perry wants to stick his dick in tim so he will do anything tim says Mr. Crowley is working on a new bible one that is all about AC and
a new millennium he writes stories about the end of time when all the bank will go bankrupt and the people will take to the streets killing all the politicians and all of the priests Mr. Crowley believes in the power of words he thinks that his words will bring about a new world order a world without tim a world where AC rules everything Mr Crowley talks about the itch of the world the scars of chew toys and Hollywood entertainment he says that the world is a tiger escaped from its cage he would run but his legs have been sawed off in the last banking war he is a veteran of many psychic wars and is lucky to be here today to tell us about it he has had his fill of nothing and it is just that he is telling us about how the nothing can capture your soul and send you across the country in search of the perfect hole a hole you can climb inot and forget the world he wants to beg for the blind eye and to crawl in the squalor of the real truth he has used his extra consciousness many times and is not afraid to set the record straight if he has to his benefits are in a small plastic bag made from biodegradable plastic it like him will fade away into the sunset the truck is coming to collect his bones and bury him with rin tin tin they are both Hollywood stars and have a star on the walk of fame he has been dodging the bullets of the government for so long that he knows how to bend over backwards he knows the problem and the problem is capitalism the monster of corporate greed doesn’t care about your biographies the corporate monster only wants to force growth down your throats until you choke on it you want more bitch tell me you want more beg me for it like a good little corporate dog Mr. Crowley wants to become a member of the masses he wants shoes that shines up little girls skirts he wants to be catholic again and to sneak a peek at Jane’s pussy he wants to sleep with the bed bugs and to crawl around on the floor looking up at his master Mr. Crowley wants to give everything away so that he can become so much more mad
sad madness he is down with living in glass houses so that his neighbors can see his magical rites he performs his magic in secret now just like all the other madmen it is only his fruits that we see in public he is gluing everything together all the broken pieces he is putting them in a love letter to you he has promised to write you so many times that you forgot that he ever would you thought he was just a figment of your imagination you didn’t really think he existed but he does you can put him in your vodka bottle he won’t fit in there anymore all I do is steal and Mr. Crowley watches me steal from you I steal from tim every chance I get every time he gets up to go to the bathroom we all take out our baggies and steal a couple of buds we each take a handful we are partners in crime I stole Mr. Perry’s wedding ring and traded it for a gun I might have to shoot somebody to save the world someday you never know how these things work out the witchdoctor keeps telling me about the future but I don’t want to believe I have to relearn everything I once knew the past lives are supposed to add up we are supposed to start working on the puzzle where we left off but I have learned that life is not the way they say it is in the books shit you should not believe a single word I have written here it is probably all bullshit how do you even know that I wrote this crap what makes you think I am really me I could be a plant from the government that they put here to spy on you how can you be such an ignorant little fucker you let me inside your head and I shit all over it Kinbote is practicing his lines he has a big part in the upcoming Christmas play I think he has five whole lines he used to having people speak for him the twelve signs when you are a master measuring the stars kinbote is born in our heads every morning he is the lamb speaking and thinking a hammer in one hand and a sword in another printing the mind into matter it was an organized massacre we shot them for more than five hours four hours wouldn’t have been enough five seemed to be just right 111 dead it was a grueling job some of the women tried to break free and run for it but it was in vain they were shot down in their tracks the eye pushed back and down caught in the revolving door Gie said he wanted to go back to prison he said it felt like home there they all get treated the same it doesn’t matter what your diagnosis everyone is given the same poison he is comforted by common suffering
the falcon’s meat hook salute to the cripple general of el dorado street he is marching his armies up and down the street Jane has no back to follow she has removed her fig leaf and is practicing witchcraft behind Mr. Perry’s back she knows that kinbote is a battered god the landlord wants a passionate kiss before he sells him into slavery the corporate giants are all agog wetting their pants with anticipation they long for the good old days of bullet proof spokes models everything is for sale in this world and everything is on loan in the next Jane is pretending that she has no goals and Toby likes his emotions raw and with syrup Toby is a king with a whistle in his pocket blow your whistle Toby there is a blind allegiance that steals from your soul anointed by the fires of hell and infiltrating the fbi spying on the spies dropping lines to the papers these gypsies are stationary and the burn the wires of copper wires telepathic angels above our heads they have machineguns and bullet proof vests investing in corporate America it is the American dream a big screen television and a monster truck driving the kids to the Saturday afternoon soccer games no more handmade looks only stones that sparkle to the republic Toby said he saw Willie fight a bear in Montana he was part of a traveling circus act I asked Toby is willie was fighting tritan also Tristan and the bear always travel together Toby said that humbert was there with lola in the white socks he was fondling her pigtails and the mothers were getting all upset the mothers are always telling what to do and distinguishing right from wrong when I berried betty boop in Calcutta the mothers were there whispering in my ear they were trying to make me feel guilty the mothers are financially supported by Mr. Nervous he wants to share his guilt with others he wants to put it up on billboards for others to read he believes that the world is going to end he is betting on it Mr. Perry has been watching humbert and taking notes on how to seduce people Mr. perry wants to seduce tim he wants tim to be his boy toy but tim is a good Christian in fact tim is the first Christian he is the one that everyone else follows henry claims that he knows tim very well but tim says he doesn’t know him Toby is jumping up and down on the garbage clowns he is upset about their hourly rate Toby prefers to have his clowns on a retainer Toby is not interested in joining tim’s religious movement he has heard about the injustice of kinbote and wants no part of it jane is pegging Mr. Perry to get him ready for his anal rape from tim that is what a religious experience means
tim sticking his god shaft up some poor believer’s a-hole that is more religion than I bargained for I’m not interested in singing happy songs ones with a criminal check in it the king with a whistle in his pocket is drinking beers with kinbote at a main street bar they are watching the mothers harass maria on television the mothers want to know her involvement with the international paranoia trade toby throws his pet pig a scrap of Canadian bacon pizza toby keeps his pig on a leash  he believes that all pigs should be on a leash he is trying to convince tim to put this in this Sunday’s sermon when kinbote and the whistle boy get together they mostly talk about politics kinbote tries to talk about religion every now and then but toby stops tim short they mostly talk about how to get kinbote’s boyfriend elected president he mentions that jane has been teaching kinbote’s boyfriend how to fight toby says that will come in handy once the caucuses start no one will be pulling their punches by then and knibote’s boyfriend better know how to throw a punch by then the farmers will be ready for a good fight and he had better deliver tim’s last boyfriend was knocked out in the first round toby blows his whistle and the pig does a flip in the air everyone in the bar claps their hands and cheers when the pig isn’t sleeping he is chewing on a grave digger’s leg the grave digger just got over a fight with his woman she threw him out because he had no shoes his hands are always dirty but his toes are clean the grave digger is drink a whiskey sour because that is what real men drink he tells everyone in the bar that is what real men drink kinbote tells the gravedigger that real men love tim just like Mr. Perry this makes the whistle boy laugh and he spits his mouthful of beer on the floor the barmaid walks by slipping on the beer on the floor and falls breaking her head wide open toby’s pig sees gray material laying on the floor and eats the barmaid’s brains this disgust tim and he starts shout down lightning bolts from heaven thus causing it to rain and blow a wild evil storm around the town in the alley behind the bar is lola in the white socks and humbert she is giving humbert a blow job the lightning and rain scare them into the bar they sit down and order root beers lola in the white socks is still trying to make up words she believes she create new realities that don’t exist with her word creations her newest creation is thickfulness she says that toby’s pig is in the state of thickfulness  she says that she is thickful for the pigs thickfulness
tim pushes the pig out of the way and scoops up what is left of the barmaid’s brains and puts them back into her head he says a few magical words under his breath and bring s the barmaid back to life everyone in the bar is amazed except for toby he is looking around for the hidden strings everyone in the bar except toby falls down on their hands and knees and worships kinbote tim says great more fucking believers humbert is crying like a baby and asking tim to forgive him his sins tim agrees reluctantly and forgives both humbert and lola in the white socks lola tells tim that she is thickful for his forgiveness tim tells them both to go and sin no more they finish their root beers and leave the bar praising the glory of kinbote humbert and lola in the white sock become traveling bible salemen lola saves up her money from selling bibles to retards in the Midwest and gets herself a sex change operation and becomes a man she knows calls herself larry in the white socks now he is a love monger a close relative to billy the kid he speaks to everyone as if he is living in a burlap bag he is destroying the mundane making the crooked sacred there is no use in arguing over the meatheads larry says it is praise that gives one power over the acne a farcical mortal fin it is growing out of the middle of larry’s back humbert thinks that maybe larry is becoming a shark he certainly sells more bibles than humbert and being able to sell door to door is the first indication in the DSM4R for being a bona fide shark larry’s skin is turning a dull gray with each bible he sells he even sold one to a former lover to the old cowboy now that was a trick and a half the old cowboy used to be this big movie star he made at least a thousand cowboy movies then he became born again and married a beauty pageant queen they both raised little rug rats in the state of texas then the old cowboy became interested in politics and was elected governor now he spends his time bitching about gays in the military the barmaid started a church of kinbote at the bar and she testified nightly on how the lord tim saved her worthless mangy life and now she only lives for tim like a bazooka with his name on it she wants to help tim expose the whole world to his disease a local tv station videotapes the barmaids sermons every Sunday Mr. Perry hears about this and starts attending the barmaid’s church he hopes that this might help him get closer to kinbote
Jane accompanies Mr. Perry to church and does her knitting while they all sit in the bar and listen to the barmaid testify of the goodness of their lord and savior tim humbert and larry show up every now and then when they are not on the road selling bibles the barmaid is trying to keep her hand on the plow she plowing a field for tim trying to harvest him some souls she is trying to come to grips with the larger philosophical and metaphysical issues that have been troubling her all her life she says that tim is the truth and she calls her church the church if truth she has thrown away her books from her earlier days in the green witch village when she practiced her magic for AC it is a story of betrayal separation and redemption America was put on the cross and it was up to people like the barmaid to take America down and prepare her for burial humbert became disillusioned with the bible selling business and he felt that there needed to be a book that told kinbote’s story so he began writing the story of tim according to humbert or more normally called the book of tim humbert started with the story of the barmaid and then began following tim around to record everything he said and everything he did it was humbert who first decided to call himself a disciple of tim and soon larry, the barmaid, Mr. Perry, jane, and toby began to meet together with tim and discuss what he was doing and saying humbert would show them what he had written and they helped him make sure he was getting it straight when I asked humbert if I could read some of the stuff he had written he told me no that it was only for true believers and he could tell that I was not a true believer he said that I didn’t believe in anything it was all a dry hump for the sweet sadist I was still determined to wash all of her holes I slowly stroked my immorality all these circuits lie with the bravado behind their teeth my story takes a turn neither bad nor inglorious it is just a turn the same as when you turn the wagon around and head back for home with your tail between your legs such is the path of a true disciple I have observed they still weep into their tissues and I collect the bile with a wooden bucket to feed the weary horses it may not be gods work but is charity just the same why should there be a problem with the connection the corndog must have gotten stuck in her throat the barmaid is silent for once maybe her brain is trying to recover from the demon possession truck the demon possesses her every other half hour for ten or fifteen minutes during these times is when she says the most intelligent things you have ever heard her speak she doesn’t talk stupid shit about how great and beautiful tim is when truck possesses her the barmaid talks about the joys of having an orgasm I could tell she was possessed by truck the demon because I was once possessed by truck myself and when I was possessed by truck my left eye would twitch all the time and the barmaid’s left eye would twitch like a motherfucker
and when she would discuss to her congregation the holy benefits of a vibrating dildo she would demonstrate its proper use for her parishioners ramming the dildo in her crotch she would inform them that it would help them get closer to kinbote and that this was a superior form of praise and worship I thought it was hilarious that a disciple of tim would be possessed by such a nasty little demon as truck I knew how to expel the dirty little fuck from the barmaid but I was having too much fun watching him jerk her and her avid flock around Mr. Perry and Jane ran right out and bought a double headed dildo so that they could worship tim together in a most proper and religious way the barmaid is burying the dead in the basement of the bar her followers are dropping like flies AC has mixed up a most potent batch of methamphetamine and he has everyone hooked and some people misjudge how much they are taking and overdose the barmaid hasn’t figured it out yet she thinks that they might be dying because of her lack of faith in tim instead they are dying because AC is trying to get even with his twin brother AC swoops down from the top of the bar where he waits for a victim like a vulture waits for the lost and thirsty to drop dead Lee has been selling meth for AC all over the town Lee cuts the stuff in half and people are still jumping out of windows because it is such a quality product Lee would cut the product in half again except he was given strict instruction from AC not to step on it again and Lee knows better than to piss AC off
Lee hangs around the church of truth and sells meth to all of the church goers he tells them it will help them worship tim when they are masturbating with their dildos it is another demon inspired marketing campaign just like all the rest Lee used to work for a marketing firm before he discovered that selling drugs was more financially stable Ac just sits back and watches the waves of souls come flooding in AC is confident that this new move on his part is a great success a great counter measure against his brother’s raising the dead stunt feeling like the failure not the phase deconstructed ego wanting love and affection your space alone not thinking it was possible taking steps for the future made of stitches we could not find mystical visions on a stretch of empty staircase drinking in your laughter the rock and the hammer these were the days of lowered expectations the barmaid was mumbling again in some demonic language that nobody could understand she is telling them to set themselves on fire a couple of them do and the bar almost burns to the ground the stench of wasted flesh is everywhere the disciples of tim are confused as usual and truck is having more fun than a demon should be allowed

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