Sunday, October 30, 2005

It’s Halloween Stupid

A raindrop warps the world as Jesus wails crucified. Grey, ominous clouds scratch open the heavens and God the father sheds mournful tears for his son, who mumbles incoherently dieing.
“Ominus borus dada.”
Barbed wire disfigures Jesus’ forehead, the draining flow of blood blinding his tired eyes. Long wooden nails, pierced through his undernourished palms, stretch out his thin arms, while thick lines of rope bind his wrists to the heavy timber cross.
“Koob loomus candor.”
Swirling, loosing consciousness, dipping head, a tough tug on his purple foot drags our saviour back into painful reality.
“Trick or treat mister.”
Two children, dressed in mock Burberry and carrying sacks browned with melting chocolate, stand at the foot of the cross, below their forgiver.
“Hey mister, you fookin’ deaf or summat? I fookin said give us some god damn sweets.”
“Blatta annulus”
The Son of God weeps for his people and continues to cry out hysterically. A Roman soldier who had watched the situation unfold from the camp speaks up, outraged.
“Hey Jesus, don’t be dick. Give the kids some candy. It’s Halloween for fuck sake.”
Our Saviour views the faces in the gathered crowd, looking for something familiar among the throng, a spark of remembrance of a better moment. And as if it were written to be so, Mary Magdalene moves forward from behind a rambling couple and removes the shroud from her face. She has grown strained, lines deep, watching her lover die slowly.
“You fookin’ cunt, can’t you spare us a Mars bar? Do you want me to drive my fist into you? You stupid prick.”
The two costumed revellers rummage and swear, grinning maniacally, as they both produce eggs from their sacks.
“You asked for it, you stinkin’ flange.”
Jesus turns his eyes to the pouring heavens and releases baritone grief.
“Domus peribus.”
And the Son of God relents, he who gave his all to save his children, released his grasp on dignity, letting it slip away with life into black and death as sticky egg yoke mixes with his blood. Vultures swarm and cackle dressed as Draculas, Wolfmen and other popular Universal monsters to suit the season in it.

6 comments:

  1. There is a new haunted realm... check it out.

    Over there -------->

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  2. Fuck you Rob. You can't take the lord's name in vain like this. God is going to uppercut you to the fucking sky.

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  3. Well, Ithought it was quite funny.

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  4. These sound like common or garden chavs, persecuting our holiest one.

    Best not bother iwth the treat, cos they'd only trick you anyway

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  5. Yep, chavs are a curse that can be found throughout time in every hobbie hole and at every socially and historically defining event.
    In some form or another...

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  6. Egg and blood covered Jesuses... Just in time for Christmas if we freeze right away.

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