666 very short stories: July 2007

Passover: Combat Simulation User Guide

Select your Avatar (one only): Moses, Pharaoh, Aaron, Brutal Overseer, Hebrews, Egyptians, Magus, Angel of Death, Courtiers, Army of Egyptian Chariots, First Born Children, Guilt of Jewish Mothers, Plague of Locusts.

Battle 1: Moses vs Pharaoh

Battle 2: Angel of Death vs First Born Children

Battle 1:

Moses treads warily around the outer perimeter. He wears a torn and dirty desert robe, and a sweaty headband. Close-range weapon: snakestaff. Special moves: Stone Tablet Hurler.

Pharoah stands arrogantly in the centre of the arena, adopting the Pose of Anubis. He wears a blood-stained battle-skirt and war-sandals. Close-range weapons: Flail of Osiris, Sceptre of Ra. Special moves: heart-hardening.

Battle 2:

Angel of Death floats eerily through the air above the stadium. Ze wears the White Robes of Wrath. Close-range weapon: Icy Finger of Doom. Distance weapon: Curse Hurler. Special moves: five point palm exploding heart technique.

First Born Children scamper naughtily around the outer perimeter. They wear shit-stained diapers, woollen booties and fleecy hoodies. Close-range weapons: Wails of Annoyance. Special moves: thumb-sucking, snot-eating, bed-wetting.

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wondering the Underlands

Always, Ze returns to the Underlands, drawn to the mystery like a moth to the flame. Traversing the dark corridors in dreams and visions, ze luxuriates in the excitement of remembering that which ze has never known. Through that hidden world where no other travellers walk, zer soundless footsteps trace the chaotic labyrinthine complexity of caverns, chambers, tunnels and avenues entwining like the serpent arms of a primaeval god... embracing and infiltrating a multitude of worlds, each a sparkling gem of Indra's net, reflecting the hallow-light of all the others. “Is there a purpose to my being here?” ze asks zerself, “and if so, is it mine? And if so, what is it I wander?”

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five pussies feast on Satanic breakfast

And while they were thusly engaged did Satan, the Fallen, emerge upon them as a plague of rats, swarming verminously in teeming thousands. The lost souls--terrified beyond measure, moaning piteously--huddled in a tight circle while the evil flowed lazily around them and into the spaces between their trembling limbs...

Until five lithe and savage pussies--Jesus, Zoroaster, Moses, Mohamed and Buddha--sprang into cruel and feline action, reaping a bloody harvest with glee and gore-soaked whiskers.

Which of course terrified the poor lost souls even more, such that they relinquished their strange and charmless quarks from top to bottom and were subsumed into the All, never to be subjects of bloggerated fiction again.

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flesh of my flesh

As Horace contemplated the yellow-green ball of quivering snot upon his nicotine stained forefinger, he thought he would burst with joy, or if not, then implode with sadness. Ah, the pangs of love: the highs and lows, the fasts, the slows...

"Snotty," exclaimed Horace poignantly, "dost thou still love me as I do thee? Wherefore thy cold silence, my darling, why dost thou respondeth not? When one has nothing nice to say, it's better to say nothing at all, as my dearest muh-mar was wont to say, god rest her blessed soul... Is that why you won't speak to me, Snottums, my darling?"

Horace smiled bravely through his tears. "It doesn't matter, Snottums, I'll always love you, whether you're quiet or noisy, dried or quivery, brown or yellowy."

The snot was dying---breathing its last moisture into the stale air of Horace's bedroom, its life force evaporating.

"No! Snotty, no! Don't leave me, please don't leave me," whimpered Horace heartbrokenly, "I'll not allow it, I'll follow thee to the very gates of hell my darling. We must never be separated, never. We must be one: flesh of my flesh, snot of my snot..."

And with that Horace put his finger in his mouth and sucked and licked his lover till death them did not part.

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what goes around

Once around a time, lived (?) a little girl called Maria Innerear. The problem with Maria was she was unbalanced. Her proprioperceptive sense had been permanently degraded by a virulent post-natal inner ear infection that a drunken obstetrician had failed to notice, let alone treat. As a result, Maria could only walk in circles, clockwise. Walking Widdershins made her throw up.

Maria lived in a revolving house with her mother and her father and a little yellow doggie called Tim, who had lost two legs (on the same side) in a nasty car accident. But Tim was a determined little doggie, and after many months of pain and struggle and disappointment, had learned to walk on two legs (on the same side). Of course, the problem was how to avoid toppling over onto the side with no legs, and so Tim could only walk (hop really) in circles, which made him an excellent pet for Maria.

The family had very little money, and it was often a struggle to pay the monthly rent on the revolving house. The Landlord was an evil clutching bastard who found it terribly amusing to call Maria's Dad, Mr InArrears, because the family was always falling behind on the rent.

The years went by. First, Maria's beloved doggie Tim died. Then her mother died. Then her father died. At age 23, she was all alone in the world. She had no money, no job, no prospects, nowhere to go, nowhere to live. To cut a long and rather offputting story short, the evil grasping landlord allowed her to continue living in the revolving house, rent-free, in exchange for sex on demand for him and his mates. They would all come over to the revolving house, the evil groping landlord and his mates, and they would have their evil way with poor Maria. They would do it this way, and that way, and every degrading demeaning way they could. But most of all their preference was for sodomy. Which explains the horrible nickname the evil clasping landlord took to calling her by: Miss InHerRear.

After a number of years of this treatment, Maria got sick and died. The house stopped revolving. The evil grabbing landlord lost all his money and properties. But still this story could not find an ending. It just continued going around and around and around. Until it put even the author to sleep. Good night.

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666 very short stories

Passover: Combat Simulation User Guide

wondering the Underlands

five pussies feast on Satanic breakfast

flesh of my flesh

what goes around

cosmic rapture