Nothings and Everythings
Trigger Warning: body horror, abuse, psychological horror, suicidal ideation, self harm
CHAPTER ONE: THE FUCKING DESPAIR WON’T LEAVE ME ALONE
I held my attention to the cave floor below me, not out of choice - but convenience. The last hundred choices I made were either sliding my hips left or right across the largest blade of coral, ignoring the pain until the lower half of my mermaid body had finally left me alone. The plant is now blocking my vision of it - good thing really - any more anger and I might fall through the slivers and pins jabbed into my stomach and chest and hit my face on the floor. I closed my eyes, waiting for my leaking blood to cover the rainbow coral before that triggered anything in me. I was left with a low buzzzzzzzzz - my tail - resting peacefully, on the ground below me. Bits of my brain, those that remained, recognized a flash of light through my eyelids as a ghostly silhouette - and as I remembered, I quickly pushed the oxygen away from my chest and held it empty in an attempt to deplete my mind of the energy needed to-
I failed. Oh lord, please don't save me, let me succumb to the depth of hell that most beckons to me. This warm blood will be the last I feel of the shiver that takes me into the fire. I cannot grow, I cannot be who you want me to be, I cannot embody you, and here my stagnant body is proof that nothing will embody me. I am as empty as the water that fills the gaps of my spine. Maybe, the water will replace my blood entirely and I will spend eternity flowing through every current but the one underlying me now. I need it, since my tail won’t be doing any more work for me - good thing really - I don't have to carry around this tiny dick now. I took the smallest breath my body would allow me to - not that I'll be doing much of anything, not anymore. I allowed the warmth of my blood to sedate me. Ah, the peace. Death awaits me and finally an expectation that will become reality. Clatter, bonk bonk. A pebble - no, a boulder - no, it must have been one of the chimaera I saw earlier. I hope it leaves me alo-
“HI! I’m Stevie. Are you okay?” squeaked the whiny fucking bitch, and I clenched my face tighter, locking my eyes together.
“I just need to take this nap” I muttered through my teeth, overusing my prayers to give some sense, “Your friends are waiting for you, bud.” “They aren't my friends.” A moment passed in stillness as my shadow winced. “Why did you collapse there, are you an Everything?” the fish accused, brushing its finger across the wringer. My eyes rolled within my head, pounding my skull as they searched to break through my eyelids to give this dumbass a side. “Look, you'll understand once you’re older, so move along. This is something that we adults have to do so that we may transform the parts of ourselves that are undesirable. The lower half of my body no longer served a purpose to me, so I cut it off. That's what you do when you have problems, silly, you fix them. Problems like how you have no frie-".
“Are you going to die?” whispered the chimaera, their voice shaking. “You look pale and your mouth keeps twitching.”
What? Can this motherfucker hear me? Im fucking speaking to em. What, does sound suddenly not carry in water anymore, did the laws of physics change since a moment ago - when I sawed myself in half? Did mother nature send the tooth fairy to take my vocal chords before she sent the reaper? Fucking rude if you ask me, I’m gonna strap a bomb to this fey and send it back to her to open the box where she keeps it around. The bitch will be vibrating one way or the other. I shuddered and my head twitched to the side, abandoning my jaw - letting out a low grunt. Blood had completely soaked the bladed plant beneath me and was now slipping into the cracks between the rocks.
“I'm going to get help” sparked the tooth fairy and I felt a sharp pain where the other half of my stomach should be. I suddenly became very aware that opening my eyes would require more energy than I possess. My mouth was dry, rotting, metallic. Red hot coils were navigating through the folds in my brain like buzz wire, cauterizing anything that moved on its own. Every recoil and I could feel the burning, melting tissue, dripping down the insides of my skull, finding its way into my bloodstream and getting stored by my fat cells. I could hear my tail, screaming FIRE at my body from under my waist and at my mind from the cave floor. I could feel my organs trying to slip their way out of my body - not nearly sneaky enough for me not to notice - and sucked them back in. The left side of my body fell numb - as my hand regained control of itself, it struck a chord on the coral in protest, cutting itself, and went flat. It sat limp for a moment, palm up, and then moved its way under its partner in crime, (the one stuck in a ball with its thumb sticking up), and gently pushed it up and down in front of my chest, signing. I stayed as still as possible as my hand continued to pray for me. I hope the chimaera brings back a baddie, I thought plainly, and everything went dark.
I returned to the sounds of mumbling, screeching, hissing - I peaked an eye open and saw a dark, dull emerald wrasse, in a white trench coat, nudging a minecart off its trail towards me - followed by a smaller, silver chimaera with rainbow, metallic, and holographic scales - who was chatting endlessly with all the critters watching them from the cave walls. With veined curiosity, I kept my eye open with a sliver and let out a pained sigh as the chattering grew louder.
“PLEASE, can you save them? You can't let them just die here like this, why won't you do it, why why why, go faster, go faster, please, doctor,” exacerbated the little ball. I went to take a deep breath in an attempt to fill myself with gratitude that at least one of my organs was willing to work for me, but my diaphragm got blocked by the stock of coral still resting on it. My annoyance was softened by the composure of the wrasse who had clearly been tuning this out for quite some time. As he approached me, I sensed the eyes of every critter in the room following him. He was clearly old, but his skin shined brighter than his eyes. He spoke, “What do you want me to do about that? I'm not a necrophiliac. It looks like it's been dead for quite some time,” he frowned. “There isn't anything more to do with this except to have a snack on the way home.” A cold wave passed through me, my pain dissipated, and my eyes shot open, squirting out a little blood with it onto the cheek on the wrasse. Excitement lit up his face.
“Oh, we got a fighter here,” he grinned into my eyes as he licked the blood off himself, savoring it. “Maybe I can work with this.” I watched in disgust as he took a stroll around me, examining my body. In every moment, his mouth twitched into a grin and reset. “It’s about 90% through the largest blade of the coral, and gravity is doing the rest. Thankfully, its positioning is keeping the internal organs and blood from pooling out all at once - although I doubt they are still holding it together. We can either lift it up and try to keep them together, or we can push it down and race to my lab, fix it up there,” remarked the doctor.
I considered this for a moment but lost interest in less. 90%? What do you mean, 90%? My tail is cut off - resting on the coral - I could hear it. I tried to sigh, but blood leaked out of my mouth, burning my lips and chin. Theres no fucking way I grinded my ass on this spiky plant for hours and I dont even FINISH? - I coughed, splattering blood on both of them. The chimaera screeched and scattered around the room, scrambling for a current that would clean them. The wrasse didn't flinch - the weird shit didnt even blink, I can see the blood sinking into his fucking cornea.
“We don't have much time. I'm going to push down now, is that okay?” probed the doctor. I winced, keeping my eyes open to match his gaze. He watched me, unblinking, as his iris shifted from brown to maroon. Then red.
I couldn't feel my vocal cords working as my whole body started to shake. I spun my head around the room - empty - the chimaera couldn’t help me, and there was nothing else around. I flexed my back—pain jolted through me—and I dropped again, lower. There was no way for me to get up on my own. I coughed inside my mouth and tasted bitter. I wanted to say no, but it wouldn't have made a difference. I must have said yes, because the next thing I remember I was riding in the minecart, my tail nowhere to be found, my head pointed towards the passing scenery, as the doctor stayed head down with his snout on the back, keeping the wheels turning. I stared at the black walls as flashes of color passed by - Trees and bees and toll fees and homeless pees and the little gee named Stevie watching me carefully in the seat next to me. I glanced at them, and in a moment pain overtook my face and I yelped a weep, swinging back around, hoping Stevie didn’t see and the doctor didn’t hear. Why didn’t they stay on whatever current they were searching for? I wondered as I watched as salty rivers convert and divert, pool and erode, follow and leave. As vents erupt, jellies reflect the light strained.
As we passed an opening in the walls, I saw the city. Arugula, the capital of Pearl. Crowded, tall, dark buildings with shiny lights centering rows and rows of scrum. How can somewhere so full feel so empty? How can somewhere so rich be so impoverished? SHHHhhh. From somewhere in the scrums, hindered by pollution, a firework went off. Green and pink stars filled the sky, I watched as they trickled down into the darkness, fading harmlessly. I felt a pressure on my hand - I swiped it away - jolted upright, leaking blood to the floor to shoot an arrow up from my chest. I quickly swung my awareness - upon seeing it was Stevie’s hand, clenched my jaw, letting the arrow slice the inside of my lip. Stevie looked with confusion as a drop of blood trickled down my chin. I licked it off. It tasted bitter, and I frowned. “We’re going to get through this,” I stated aloud, pretending not to notice their tskkk.
The wrasse took a turn away from the main road leading to Arugula and back through the cave system, through unused military barracks and depleted mining facilities, and arrived at the entrance to Dr. Dookie’s laboratory. The shadowed, glowingly colorful, jagged caves blend flawlessly into the wall of off-white paint framed by large, black rimmed, metal doors. “Open” states the doctor. The door opens. No receptionist greets us as the doctor takes a moment to catch his breath, then attaches us to a large metal arm from the machine closest to the door, pulling us inside. As I looked around, I began to notice that the outer walls were closing in on us. There were beds where walls should be and tables, littered with devices unfamiliar, where the floor should be. The arm pulled us closer to the nearest bed, bumping the minecart into a separate frame - knocking the upper half of my body over, which landed on top of Stevie - who let out a muffled screech. The doctor quickly took notice. “Hey, I'm so sorry how clustered it looks in here,” obliged the doctor, as he grabbed me with large metal arms and swung me to the operating table. The arm holding the minecart threw Stevie to the other side of the room - Dr. Dookie ignored my look of shock as he continued, “Seventy years. Seventy years I served, giving our men their wings. Healing them. Blowing the air under their legs, just not from behind - or in front - I gave them what they needed. I gave them a fresh start, A better mind, A better body, A stronger soul. They were in so much pain, so they came to me because they wanted to feel normal again. They wanted power, so they asked me, how’d you do it? I worked harder. I worked harder than all the fucking bums I grew up around. Men who didn't have what it took. Men who couldn't see what I saw. Men who didn’t get it. You know this best - that this is a world of earnings, my prince. Your Father is the hardest working man I’ve ever met, he’s dedicated himself to this nation like no other King has done before him - I could never be him.” He glanced at the floor, his expression unchanging, and back. “But, I could make you better than him. Many have died by my hand, my friend, but not on my table. I know exactly what I am doing here. I am going to make you stronger than whoever it is you were imagining to be before you got on that coral. You are going to fly out of here, A better man. A more capable man. A more beautiful man. You will be able to solve your problems instantly, without having to bat an eye, or lash” - my body twitched into a wink- “yes, my friend, it's that simple. Do you have enemies, Cornelius?”
Panic set into my body, is that really my name? There’s no fucking way I lasted this long, right? Why did no one ever tell me? How much does he know? WHAT IS GOING ON. The headphones I was wearing - that didn’t exist - suddenly stopped working. I heard a buzz from across the room, and as I looked for the source - I caught a glance of Stevie - now a blur behind blue glass. I gasped. Stevie was completely inaudible, chucking whatever shit he could grab at Dr. Dookie, the various tools and configs being stopped by the glass - was that always there? I felt a shiver down what was left of my spine. They was fucking pissed. I'm not really sure why tho, he’s a doctor - he’s been helping our poor soldiers for seventy years. He just wants to help people. He clearly knows what he’s doing - he told me he did. I think I might just let this man do anything to me. I laid there and waited for him to start again.
“I am going to fix you, sweetheart. By the time I'm done, you won't even remember that the other half of you exists. Do you want to know what's happening to it, right now, Cornelius? It's being eaten. By your brothers, by your sisters, by the crusty crabs that walk the ocean floor, by the spiders on the crabs that walk the ocean floor, by the bacterias on the spiders on the crabs that walk the ocean floor. It’s fucking trash, Cornelius, dont get it twisted. Trash for the lesser to pick at, scraps to chew on, a house to hide inside. But not one you could live in. That's why you’re here, you want to be whole again. You wanted to die tonight, so you can kill demons of hell tomorrow, isn't that right? I can do that for you, you know, but you have to allow it. You have to give me control, just once, and then you will be in control forever,” stopped the doctor, letting the moment pass over, just once.
“What are you going to do?” questioned Corn.
“I am going to make things easy for you. I am going to make them simpler, I am going to make you right. Your enemies, Cornelius, have been slaughtered by your family for generations. It's in your blood. But you have a unique opportunity here, because every generation brings a new innovation - and I’ve brought yours - here it is - I call it Weapon Z.” Dr. Dookie brings out a Mermaid-size Regal Goldfish Three Pronged Tail Synthesized Aim Lock Auto Shootizer. “This bad boy is going to revolutionize how armies perceive and function inside wartorn territories. As you can see, on the outside this will look like a normal, typical, right mermaid body - a quite beautiful one I might add - but at any moment, as soon as you identify an enemy soldier, it will - Dr. Dookie pressed a manual activation button inside the asshole of the tail and the shortest prong snapped around, above the head level of Cornelius, opening up into a blaster barrel - kill them instantly. They won't be able to speak, act, think, feel, use, do, mind, find, grind, use their behind, really not anything at all. Useful, right? A lot of folks walking without blood in them, amiright? So, would you mind if I hooked you up with this device?”
Corn felt its head nod. It couldn't explain it, It didn't want to try. It had to do this. “I'm going to give you some painkillers, and when you wake up you will feel better forever. Try not to get addicted to these too, alright?” Dr Dookie smiled with brown teeth, “Sweet dreams.”
I awoke in the same bed I fell asleep in, although with a stale scent. I looked around, orienting myself, and noticed three facts: I was still in pain, the northernmost wall of the laboratory was a full length mirror, and I was completely alone. Before, it was blocked by the clutter, but it cleared up - Stevie must have spent all their energy during the surgery throwing every single object on their side of the room at the invisible wall - as the pile of spoons and various inornate devices was now stacked towards the center of the room. I looked at the northernmost wall. The Mermaid-size Regal Goldfish Three Pronged Tail Synthesized Aim Lock Auto Shootizer blended into my scales seamlessly - I was magnificent. For the first time in my life, I saw the strength of myself, I could feel the power I welded beneath the surface - a quite beautiful one I might add - I grinned widely. I couldn't begin to imagine the fun I'll have with these prongs. Long tail too, I heard that was a necessity. Man, I hate a lot of people, don’t I? Well, goodluck to them. I swam away from the bed and began to dance.
“Open” - I stopped dancing - the door opened, and Dr Dookie strolled in. He didn’t look at me. “Close” - A wave of disappointment and betrayal hit me. I looked away and saw the pile of spoons.
“Where is Stevie?” I strained, my glance darting back to him, slipping into a glare. The doctor looked at me, calculating. An inescapable tension accumulated in my chest, as I felt his wheels turning, grinding my insides, grappling my needs, shifting them.
“Cornelius! Hi, you look so incredible today! Stevie was an incredible doll throughout this whole process, they’ve really inspired me to bring some color into my projects!” He exclaimed with a smile and a bounce. He held out a small scale for me to see, rainbow, metallic, and holographic - Stevie’s. Confusion set in as I felt blood rush into my new tail - I fell faint, but caught myself before I stumbled. The doctor continued, “Look, I love Stevie -”
The little ball in my heart burst, releasing adrenaline through my body, exiting thro- “God - SHUT THE FUCK UP. LEAVE ME ALONE, STOP TRYING TO SHOW ME SHIT!” The heat of my body was melting the brain matter from my fat cells back into my bloodstream, down my waist, through the three prongs - the shortest one snapping upright, above my head, and with a whirrrRRR and a flash of light, there was a hole in the middle of Dr. Dookie’s forehead, through his skull, and out the back of his head. It made a thump on the plated flooring, as a stream of blood splashed out of my asshole.
I stood there, seething, not shocked. I'd shoot him again if it would give me the same kick. I might just use his lab to build a time machine - go back and do it again. And again. And again. Look, I was going to die anyway, I might as well steal this man's lifework on my way to the King’s. It's entirely possible this man has never helped a single person in his entire life. Masculinity is a hellhole made for God’s most disposable bodies - especially if they were soldiers - all they achieved is maintaining police protection for the flag on their gravestones. I might now be a slave to their same fate - but using this machine can only make me stronger, and all I know is - I need to be. I need to tear down anyone, everyone, anything that stands in my way, because this goal I have, to kill this narrowly welded idiot of a Father, is going to change the world for the better. The fate of the world is in balance, and I will only slip if I must kill everyone’s for them - so time to dance. I grinned slyly. Anyway, where is Stevie?
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CHAPTER TWO: THANK FUCKING GOD FOR THIS BITCH
I failed. They are going to die. I can’t do this any longer, I've tried everything. I cowered to the floor, allowing the mound of knives to tower over me, blocking my vision of the surgery. There is nothing I can do. Why didn't I push him out of the minecart, drag him to a hospital in Arugula? I tensed and closed off my mind before the next thought formed. I shuddered. Why did I bring back this fucking lunatic with me - how couldnt I see it? I squeezed my eyes shut, begging for a blackout—but there was only blackness. Then Cornelius. I flashed my eyes open and stared at the pile of knives. These knives are stronger than I am. I am worthless. At least they had a chance to get through this wall - since I didn't make any of them, the doctor did. Well, it was all worth the try, I sighed. I sat there and stared at the heap of it all, waiting for him to finish.
The blue glass disappeared, flattening the pile of knives, slightly, as they consumed the wider area provided to them. Dr. Dookie was already looking at me. “Hello, child. Did you enjoy the show? I tried my best to really draw it out, give you a moving target - until you ran out of energy.” He made another show of looking at the pile of knives. “I dunno, I think if you kept going - you woulda got there. Fast finisher, huh? You know without endurance, it's difficult to swim.” He flashed me his brown teeth, offering me a snack - I almost cringed visibly. He continued, “Did you really think you were safe here, child? Did you really think you could do anything to help your friend? You should have rode your luck out of here when you had your chance - You won't have another - I like your scales, they’re really pretty.” He took a step toward me, kicking the pile.
The hilt of a knife fell from the pile and landed on my gills - I gasped and darted my glance to the door - closed - the path littered with knives. With bitterness, I palmed the knife that hit me as I spoke: “Alright, but can you just stop talking. I’ve heard enough of what you have to say - it's getting a bit sickening.” Hawwwhr he laughed, expanding his face in front of his eyes - as I slid the knife into a flap in my tail. I'm going to get him with this one later, I thought plainly. He recollected himself, tensing.
“Why are you here, like you are, when you could be anything? You are weak, naive, conceited. There is not a special side of your love - It's linear - the brainpower of millions working to build a rocket shot, just to shoot it into the abyss to take pictures of planet farts. Cool, dude. There is not a motion in your soul that does not collide with another’s, so you don’t move at all. You are so transparent that all people see when they look at you is their own reflection. You are a Nothing, just like me, just like Cornelius. To be stuck as you are, with whatever you can do, it's a prison. For me, it was a shame. This body? Really? There’s nothing to be done with this but let the worms crawl on me, eat my dead skin. Worms can't eat metal, Stevie. Your friend here, part of him is going to live forever. And until he dies, I’ll keep on living too,” Dr. Dookie exclaimed as he took a moment to relish in pride. Then another, just looking at Cornelius, smiling. Shaken, but bottled - I darted my eyes to Cornelius. They looked peaceful. I took a breath for him. He continued, “Don't think his fate is the same as yours, my friend, you are not nearly as strong as him - I'm sure he would have found you bloodless and rotten on that plant long before I showed up for my treat. Don't worry, you’re special too, my friend, I know exactly what I'm going to do with you.”
There is no way I am letting this man get close to me. He’s sagging so low his brain is dragging on the floor. His lab smells like sweat and shit, and there's old hair everywhere - the only objects in the room I left alone - not out of fear - but certainty. This man is nothing like me. No amount of love is going to change what he's going to do next. He knows what he wants, And he knows how to make nature abide by his will. No Mother is providing nourishment to this man - he probably spends his mornings under his DADDY plague set against the northernmost wall of the lab - listening to himself talk. If he won’t stop, at least this knife is gonna stick around.
“I’m not going to touch you, Stevie. I don’t have to. You have no move here.” He stood there, watching me, in an attempt to let it sink in. I continued floating. He continued, “The Everythings, they pity you. They walk around this world, enjoying the pain of it. Savoring the opportunity to leave behind something worse for a chance at something better. Making use of every bit of a velvet thread that passes through them to embellish. Even when they don’t choose it, they make the best of it. I’ve spent my entire life trying to match their brilliance - to recreate it - until I realized something. Choice is overrated. We are all players of a game that has been ‘reinvented’ a hundred times over: mate or get mated. So I made Mother Nature my bitch so I could mate whatever I want. She’s a sly whore though - cause no matter what outcome we intend, we are always weaker than our creations - even in their destruction.” Dr. Dookie glanced towards Cornelius and I caught a glimpse of sadness in his eyes as they glistened, for the first time, bright enough to match the blinding radiation of his well-kept skin. Curiosity brought my gaze with his - Cornelius was burning brighter. I sighed. “You aren’t like him, Stevie, you would get stepped on trying to fill his shoes,” he sniffled, recollecting himself. “But I could make you better. I could make you better than him.”
I shudder passed through me as his words echoed in my mind. What is the insatiable spirit inside of this freak? Is there really something better than Cornelius? I glanced at their tail, the power I know to be hidden inside engulfing my mind. They’re something like God -
“You know what he needs. That's the difference. You think I’m the one not paying attention here, Stevie? You just met me. You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this. Weapon Z? Nothing more than a satire of my own shadow. But you? Someone like me wouldn’t go blind to your divinity, Stevie. With my help, I believe that you have the necessary qualities to become an Everything. To grow in any which way, to thread needle after needle into the Fates web until you build a new dimension interwoven - that even they can't touch. To be God, Stevie. That’s what you want, just like me, just like Cornelius. With Weapon Z, Cornelius will only ever bring coldness, evil, into this world. With my help, you will bring warmth, good, into this world. And of course, I will hence bring both good and evil - So I win, you understand - cause I'm a libra and we love balance. Remember that cause I don't like to put my name on shit.”
Okay, what the fuck? This motherfucker cannot be serious. It is not that deep bro, just live ur fucking life and cause no harm, unless you have consent. Like? I don’t want all that. I don’t want to do everything - anything I want… Create the tool required to solve any problem - that I care about… Help every single person I come across, no matter their predicament - If it’s worth it… Spread love in a way very few Everythings have decided to do since the revolution of Pearl - be who I dream of being... Hmmm. If it wasn't me, it'd be the next fish, and who knows what that motherfucker is going to do - probably create the next Weapon Z by drawing a circle around it, crossing out the Z, and writing an A. I glanced at Cornelius. He just wanted more power, at whatever the cost… what he needs is - a calming certainty hit me. I smiled, softly, returning my attention to Dr Dookie. He really does believe what he’s saying, doesn’t he? Me? Be an Everything? Well, I can’t hide from jealousy forever. At least knows what he’s doing - he showed me he did. I allowed fear to fill me. I stood there, widening my grin further. I held the image of the knife in my mind as I spoke, “Okay, bring it on.”
“Oh, Stevie,” Dr Dookie winced in disappointment, pulling out a device labeled <><>Black Anti-Invincibility Everything-Coded Cancer-DNA-Serum Colonizer 9000, and shot me square in the chest. I relaxed into it. The dart injected an ink-like substance into my heart, as warmth spread from my chest throughout the rest of my body. OH NO, but I recognized the color! It was the blackest black to ever exist ever - harvested from scraps of the Great Burning in the furthest depths of the Great Ravine, from Ultra-Diamond Paper that recondensed back into the very Coaliest Nothingness after receiving the pressure to know everything - would be something that weird ass bitch would have continued on with. Instead, I allowed blackness to consume me.
I awoke without oxygen in my chest, with my body strapped in place, in a dark and unknown cave - I gasped - oh no, is this a sex dungeon? That was definitely a sex thing, right? My body began to shake as I fought the water for breath. I opened my eyes as wide as I could, trying to adjust to the light in the room as quickly as possible. I reached to pull out the knife from my fin and held it close to my face. A spoon appeared. I sighed. I held onto it and looked around the room.
A figure began to emerge through the fog on the wall to my right - Swshishesh - another being, trapped along side me - light from a low fireplace in the far corner illuminated an octopus with eight slimy arms-<> God - get me out of this hentai fanfic <>-the lower half of Cornelius’s old body. A bright orange mermaid tail, untouched by the critters of nature, still leaking blood - fell to the ground with a thummmp. I gagged. Pressure was grabbing my tail, yanking it, stretching me backwards towards the wall behind me. Tightness turned to tear and tear to agony. I could feel my fins rearrange, my cartilage grow and shift and rip through my scales. Eight slimy arms protruded out of my tail, suckers popping out one by one like bubble wrap - each mPOP splattering blood on the wall behind me - each one as satisfying as the last. I ached and yelped until it was over. I sighed - and farted? A strange unidentified Mouth opened in the center of my newfound tail and began humming sassily, “Now, THIS is draaag!”
I gagged the damn mouth for a moment, with the spoon, and ran my fins down my new tail-arms, accessing the situation - How did that happen? As I pretended to ponder that, I took a peek at Cornelius’s old crotch - Mouth spit out the spoon and widened, “Yes, girl. It's too long AND there's not enough of it.” I closed my eyes and grinned slyly. Everyday, I get so lucky with the folks I run into - well - at least the ones with blood in them, amiright? Mouth expanded, vibrating my body, “Hey, for US? Everyone will have blood in them. I trust you sweetheart - just let me do the gagging. Let’s go get your playboy - we shall be in attendance in Arugula tonight!” I rolled my eyes - Okay, this works with me. Anyway, where is Cornelius?
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CHAPTER THREE: THE FUCKING PITY PARTY
I took one last look at Dr Dookie’s limp body, revelling in my creation. I have spent the last unsleepable-block-of-time since my last feeling of joy collecting various flesh-eating critters and inorganic waste from the compounds connecting to the lab and inserting them into the hole in his head. I waited patiently as they ate through the brain matter and down through the nervous system, searching to splash in every last drop of moisture in his body - like kids in the puddles on a rainy day before school. Soon, all that was left of his face were his brown teeth. I grinned. He is disgusting. My eyes darted towards the door and a sudden wave of prickly tension fell over me. Must be all the spoons watching me - Fuck these stupid fucking spoons - I keep telling them, “STOP GLARING AT ME!”, over and over and they just won’t listen. I stomped on the one closest to me with a prong. I stared at the flattened head, unblinking, then the door.
“Open” I stated. The door opened. The prickles became shots injecting my tense body with an unknown substance. My blood screamed, angry at the invasion - the prongs of my tail tightening, locking me into place - I averted my gaze towards the southernmost wall of the lab. “Close” I stated. I heard bshrrr as the door closed. The needles moved off me, now hovering gently over my skin, as my tail released me. I grinded my teeth, and took one last look back at Dr Dookie’s body. He’s going to sit there, rotting, forever. “He can’t hurt me anymore,” I told myself.
“Doorrr, opennn” sang an unfamiliar voice from outside the lab. The door opens as an automated voice chimes “with pleasure”. I saw Stevie’s face - how wonderful - and then eight slimy arms following him - a bit too close - and then a minecart - presumably empty. I darted my attention to the arms. They were a dark purple - completely ruining the delicate contrast of Stevie’s metallic, holographic, rainbow scales on silver skin. The glare of the spoons began to warm my blood. I rolled my head in a circle as my mind tensed. The stringy slimes were oozing, leaving a trail of slightly more condensed water than was previously there, tinted a colorless green, glimmering. They are disgusting. I have to get rid of that. I let my face fill with anger, attempting to heat the water around the arms so they burn. Stevie was watching me carefully, and then eyed the doctor’s rotten corpse - a voice hummed softly from the leeches attached to Stevie, “Hey, could I eat some of that - please? I’m FAMISHED”.
I considered this. The radioactive nuclear waste now bubbling deep inside Dr. Dookie might be enough to kill the pus, but it wouldn’t guarantee Stevie’s safety. I considered turning on my tail, slicing them clean in half at the seam, but I had already affirmed to never touch the manual activation button in my asshole. My blood started to boil, steaming the prongs, causing them to float further above my head.
“What the fuck is that, Stevie?” I berated, as the hot emptiness in my head raised my skull - leaving my jaw hanging. A voice hummed playfully, “How DARE you - How fucking DARE you. Open wide - I'll take a little shit - yum yum yummm-”
“Cornelius, chill the fuck out. Mouth is a part of me now. They experience my brain passively while maintaining the function of their eight brains, one throughout each arm. They have decided that after the loss of the rest of their body and organs - they are only now useful for Well-Timed-Quips. A waste if you ask me - so don’t. I would let them take me on any current, ride me just about anywhereee… They wanted to come here though - with me - for you. We obtained your mermaid tail.” The tentacles slid into the minecart, rusting it instantly, and arose with my lower half-
Disgust filled me. I don't want that fucking thing - that’s what got me here in the first place. It wasn’t strong enough, It wasn’t fast enough, It wouldn’t obey me - It made me weak. There was nothing to do with that, it didn’t give me a choice - I wasn’t like the Everythings. I had to know, I had to know if I was one of them. Now, at least I’ll always have a choice. I sat for a moment in my newfound peace - Then, I felt the spoons, their glare. They were burning my skin - why won’t they just leave it alone? I rolled around in an attempt to find an angle that would dissuade them. One of the spoons targeted my asshole and I let out a yelp - Blood began rushing to help but I pushed it - down my spine, down the shortest of my prongs, which snapped upright, above my head, and with a whirrrRRR and a flash of light, there was a hole through the entirety of a slimy arm, through the base of my old crotch, through the waist, and out the asshole. A voice exclaimed “OH, a clean shawt - just how I like ittt.” My old cock made a thump on the inside of the minecart, as a stream of blood splashed out of my asshole. Stevie started laughing at me. I averted my gaze to the southernmost wall of the lab. There was nothing else to do. I had no one to turn to. No one could offer their support and mend this hollow tear in my heart.
A voice brightened, “Hey - don’t worry - my arm will grow back. I spent five years as a tailor and five more as a nurse, I’ll have your waist healed and cock back in working order in no time. Or, I could stitch it to your forehead, call you UniCor-”
“Cornelius,” Stevie sighed, “That weapon, it may now be yours, but it isn't you.” A tentacle whipped around and smacked Dr. Dookie’s skull off his body - rude, I was working on that - “I want you to go back into your body, It’ll be good for you. We can leave the cock in the minecart, if you want. It's up to you. But that weapon? It needs to go - I don't feel safe anymore.” The glare of the spoons dampened from the condensed water, tinted a colorless green, being oozed by the tentacles. I miss the heat their attention provided. They look duller, like they are meant to simply scrape away at something - Maybe I’ll scoop some flesh off Dr Dookie and feed it to the pus. Maybe that will shut it up.
“Well, I don't feel safe without it. The next Dr Dookie could be right outside that door, and then what do you want me to - exactly? I’m going to have to kill that motherfucker a thousand more times - I’m going to have to keep killing them until I die and it's finally over and I'm free. That body, I don’t know how it wasn’t destroyed - but it's not of any use to me anymore, I don’t want it. Just like you, I'm going to make the best of what I have here.” I affirmed as I glanced towards the northernmost wall of the lab and let out a righteous smile. Voice began whispering. I shot my glare towards it and saw Stevie eyeing the door, a look of shock across their face. They relaxed into it.
“You’re right, Cornelius. We need that weapon. Even now, there are some problems I can’t solve alone. There are some motherfuckers that need to be put down - just in the relevant moments. But, no one has walked through that door but me, and you still couldn’t help but hurt me. You should not be the one of us wielding that weapon. One prayer, Cornelius. One prayer is all it takes and your body will back on you, and it’ll be stuck - as it was before you got on that coral - forever. You’ll be safe with me, Corn - but if you want to stick around, you need to accept your lower half and learn to get used to it, so we can get the fuck out of this lab forever and go party in Arugula.”
Bitterness filled me. This fuck. They want to kill me - They’ve let Dr. Dookie’s power go to their head. It’s that fucking voice, why do they listen to it? I won’t let myself be their pet. I won’t let myself be Nothing while they string me around on a fucking leash, a prize puppy to mellow them out, allow them to look normal again. Nor will I let myself be a walking bodyguard - vaporize any problem they can’t find the worth or method to solve -I won’t be their tool - I won’t be used. This weapon is all they see now. They don’t see me - all they see is the version of me that benefits their vision of the world the most. They are no different from Dr Dookie. I looked at his hollow body. I felt the rot, the waste, it bubbling. The acid lining his stomach being eaten by the nuclear waste I fed him. I shook my head. This is all I can do now. I looked at Stevie.
“You’ve lost yourself too, you know. Don’t think you’re so special, that my weapon is dangerous and yours isn’t. That’s a fucking freak leeching to you, Stevie, you’ve been infected. What happened to the rest of it, Stevie? Where did its body go? Where did it come from? You destroyed it. You took what you wanted, and left the rest to rot. You took it like it had always belonged to you.” A voice chimes “NAME REVEALLL, im fucking Ghandi! Lord, I wouldn't hurt you or the hundred-sixty-six? flies buzzing around your empty skull.”
“Cornelius,” began Stevie, “I trust myself to use the device I was given, and I trust Mouth. If that means you can’t trust me, then don’t come with me. That guilt you’re carrying - when it touches me it will dissipate. Give it to me, Corn, I can take it, I can use it, I want it. I don’t want to see you like this any longer. I don’t want to imagine the pain you’d cause if you left this lab as you are, alone. I don’t want to see you demonized, Corn, because you’re an angel. I’m not going to cut off your wings just because you fell. But I am going to leave. I am going to leave with that weapon.”
My gut sat empty as I stared, fully, at them. They don’t need me. They just need what I can offer them, and it’s not even mine. They are Everything now, and I am Nothing still. Once I give it up, they could put me into the dirt. Hurt me. They could hurt me and keep hurting me and there would be nothing I could do. I’d hope for my own death - and I’m done with that so - I’d rather die than go with them. God - has their favorites, and they didn’t choose me. I just want to stick to what I’m good at. To what I know. To what I’ve seen that I can do and that works. I want to use it for good. I took a long look at the northernmost wall of the lab. This weapon is so hollow, it's dragging me down. I sighed, but nothing came out. This body is a curse, a curse of exceptionalism. Just once, right? Unless I build that time machine. Take whatever Dr Dookie gave Stevie for myself.
“God - Goodbye, Stevie.”
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CHAPTER FOUR: THE FUCKING MALACE
Bshrrrrrr. The door closes as an automated voice chimes “with pleasure”. Read the room, Door. I stared at the shadowed, glowingly colorful, jagged caves, seething, not shocked. That motherfucker won’t change for anybody, for anything but himself. He’s a scared little bitch, and I can not afford to be hauling his ass around. I sighed. Why can’t he just accept that he’s going to fail to achieve and fail to know what to achieve? Mouth hums softly, “We can only offer compassion, not peace. He chose that lab, and it offers neither. Eventually, he’ll make his way out - I just hope he leaves as he is - NOW - without Weapon Z.” Prickles tinged the base of the Three Pronged Tail Synthesized Aim Lock Auto Shootizer synthed to my back, as the heat of Cornelius’s blood warmed my body. I shivered. I just hope he kept all his brain matter to himself.
A black catfish swam out of the shadows and across the opening further down the cave. YOU’RE NOT GETTING AWAY FROM ME, KITTY. Um, what the fuck was that? Mouth sighed a hum, “It seems Corn’s influence carries through his blood, into ours. Just ignore him, it's just his corny lies.” I watched as the catfish looked at me, next to me, and then scurried into the darkness of a connecting cave. I took a step forward. A stained rock on the right side of the cave, above a shattered viewing station overgrown with vines and brimming with leaves, moved as my perception changed to reveal a small, glowing, blood-red, jellyfish. I watched it carefully as it swung from vine to vine, pretending to sting the leaves as they bounced off the last one onto the window of the viewing station, avoiding the sharp, broken glass with form and grace. I took another step forward. This is going to take a while, isn't it? Mouth hums proudly, “Real love is NEVER a waste of time.” I rolled my eyes, here I thought Cornelius-
I'm here to write bitches. Thats what im fucking here for. Dont fucking get it twisted, this isnt a fourth wall break, its not. Its naughttt. My editor or something will surely convince me to take this out. This belongs in another document. They will say. This completely ruins the vibes u just set up. Look how fucking casual it is. How limp, how flaccid, how lame. We want story, we want more. More moral. More felt. More spoon. More right. More known. More love. Well children, i've been possessed. You've seen it. Don't pretend you dont know me. I will keep doing evil, there is no arc for these characters, they are going to meet people, chat it up, talk, fuck, leave, sleep, and do it again. Is it better? Isnt it better if i just write down every fucking thought i have, because its so grandeously strange that it might actually just stick. It might actually just circle back around to normal, call it the new horseshoe theory. Lame ass bitchess, just fucking pick one or both not fucking neither. Jesus, get a fucking grip on yourself man. This story needs to actually go somewhere. This is pisspot table cum fuck on paper cloth. It's terrible. It's not even Genre. It's not even Genre dude, what am I even reading. You will get nowhere, this will do nothing, if you don't pick a lane, motherfucker, and make sure u dont get ur nasty ass toes in mine. Stop jumping. Stop it. This book curses me. I've lost my mind. I'm breaking reality, whatever I do. Just skip it. Just skip it. Just move on. Go to the next place, get up, go. Move. do it. Now. fuck u stevie. Fuck u, bitch ass. Fuck u stevie. Mouth leave me fucking alone, ive had enough. Can’t I just do this forever? I know some shit, and I don't want any more. I'm alright here. It's fine, I just press the return tab right?
Okay that was getting to be a bit much, for the eyes you know? Better we start again here, try again, try anew. Relive another dream that I connected with so much that I remember every emotional detail of. Hi, my name is Owen All, my special interest is my own psychology, and I'm smart enough to know that narcissism is really fun. Like the best. What else is there to do, really, in this shitty ass world. People are alright. Fun, interesting, funny, knowledgeable, desirable, special, cool, but more powerful than me? Not really. Not when I have control here. I didn't, sure, I don't, sure, but really? I do tho. You know it, I know it, what else is there to do about it really. You can only hold off so long, and well sure, you could stop reading, but then what? Do what you've been doing. Do something new that is crazy, familiar, that you know you'd like. Kinda, like reading the rest of this. Whenever I start again, of course
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CHAPTER FIVE: THE FUCKING TRUTH
HAHAHAHAH I READ YA BITCH AHAHAHAHA —--MOUTH
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CHAPTER SIX: THE FUCKING IDIOTS
I sat there, old-new tail a gleaning orange, eye to eye with the ghost of the dead body of Dr. Dookie. His body is gone. But I can see it. I’ve seen it years ago, really, how this would all play out. I don’t need to build a time machine for death. I'm already so smart when it comes to death. I could die and I definitely will die. And I killed this ugly ass man. I watched until the nuclear waste destroyed every last drop of his bones. Don’t tell me what to do with dead bodies - they had their chance.
I need a fucking weapon. I avoided the spoons as I scoured the countertops and drawers and tables that are the floors and beds that are the walls for any sort of device that Dr. Dookie may have left behind. In the top most drawer on the cabinet closest to the door, was a Bright-Pink-So-Safer-Blaster. Dude probably named this shit Weapon Y. Fuck that, that’s like almost just as lame - I closed the drawer. Okay, no weapon, just AKE: awareness, knowledge, effort. Gonna have a lot of ache.
“Door, please open?” The door opened as an automated voice chimes, “with pleasure”. Look, I’m going to be at one with nature. If Stevie is right, maybe I’ll even circle back around to calling him God again. I just wanna be whoever I can be, I just wanna be with whoever crosses my path. Everyone needs someone to gas them up, especially after I have just extinguished their previous fire. Of course, Stevie left with both of my sparks. Kinda cursed. Maybe now, the sparks won’t come from me. Maybe I’ll grow, maybe I’ll know, maybe I’ll show you I can. And all the while, I certainly will AKE. Kinda free, though. The tides last forever and the words never end. Just don’t take me out back last to shoot me again just cause no one told you that it wasn’t going to be easy. I can draw you a circle that falls into a spiral, A spider that jumps off the crab's back and spins up to the surface, simply by tracing the webs that were destroyed in between. I’m not making a time machine, I don’t want to go back, not until it appears here in front of me again so i can make it better, dirtier, fuller. The fact about me, my friend, is that no one’s ever thought that I didn’t have what it takes. And that's the knife I'm walking out of here with.
I am so scared that it aches. I crossed the boundary of the door to the lab. Shadowed, colorful, jagged walls beheld the glare of my I’m-The-Only-Star-In-The-Sky orange skin. Goodluck, bitches. I noticed as a catfish stampered out of the shadows and looked at me. They smiled. I smiled back. My lower half betrayed me as I gauged my look to the stained rock beside me. Curiosity overtook me as I glanced back at the catfish - they left for a connecting cave. I considered this. They looked hungry and astray - I could help with that. I followed the cat into the dark alley.
The cat was pretending not to notice me but glanced back every few seconds. It slithered around towards the cave walls and I noticed a huge dull Pirarucu standing in the middle of the road, staring at me. He allowed the catfish to pass as he remained locked in on me. Okay, I’m no different than the catfish, right?
“Let me just walk by,” I relayed as I began to make my way around the fish. The Pirarucu opened its mouth as loud as it could and began hollering indiscriminate sounds in my general direction. Okay, shut up dude. I approached the area beside the fish, watching carefully as it began charging at me and waving its fins up and down as fast as it could, still yelling. I let out a small, tiny, totally-chill screech and ran back down the alley towards the lab. After a moment the Huge Dull Fish relaxed, and took its position in the middle of the road, staring at me, hissing. I don’t need the blaster for this, do I? Partially covered by the shadows to the left of the fish was a second, Fem Huge Dull Fish - lying there, staring at me. I addressed the former.
“Please let me through you stupid piece of shit. Get your fucking priorities straight. You don’t want this fucking land, you want to protect ur fem. Nice dude. Congrats. Move out the fucking way and let me go chase the fucking kitty. You’re really starting to piss me off. God. Are you fucking kidding me. I need to shoot this motherfucker with the Bright-Pink-So-Safer-Blaster. It doesn’t even fit on the page.” I began pacing to test the movement of Chad as I kept my eye on the catfish as they began exploring the surrounding landscape further down the alley. Chad wouldn’t budge. This is fucking bullshit, I don’t have any pockets, theres no where to put the blaster cause we all know Dr. Dookie doesn't own any purses. I began a staring contest with the Huge Dull Fish. He blinked. I sighed.
“Please don’t make me kill you. I just want to leave. But there’s nowhere else to go, you understand? You don’t fucking own this place. No one does. Maybe if you offered me a riddle, then we could come to some sort of arrangement. I have quite the mind for it, you know, I could tickle a fancy that even your fem can’t. Hey, it’s your possessive language, not mine. I just wanna see where the catfish went. Totally innocent. Why are you here? To make sure I don’t fuck something of yours up? You don’t even want anything, you’re just fucking standing there like a troll. Fucking move.” Chad wouldn’t budge.
Why am I here? It’s worth it isn’t it. It’s just one dull fish, and then I get to be myself. At Least the fem is kind enough to be on the side of the road, maybe she’s even bright enough to find another Dull fish. She’ll be okay. I turned around and headed to the lab. “Door, open” the door opens as an automated voice chimes, “with pleasure.” At least they are enjoying their purpose. I opened the drawer and pulled out the Bright-Pink-So-Safer-Blaster. I stared at it. Why do I have to be so lame? It takes me away from myself to do this. There’s no style. It just is. I was never going to be a mechanic. There are some systems that are not worth putting back together, or improving upon. Destruction is necessary and Creation is scary, because within a system you are left with the image of once was, and loss hurts. And without that system, you are Nothing. That’s why I need to shoot the Dull Fish in the head with the blaster, so I can keep allowing myself to expand. The catfish appeared in my mind.
“Door, open” the door opens as an automated voice chimes, “with pleasure.” I headed to the dull fish, still standing there, still blinded by the light I was radiating moments ago that was still traveling to him, and confronted him with the Bright-Pink-So-Safer-Blaster pointed at his head.
“Pink? Seriously? You’re highkey a fucking bitch. Yeah take the easy way out, like you always do. I can tell. You can always tell with the faggots, they can’t hide it. I would squash you like a bug, you need that little fucking thing.” I felt strangely disillusioned. I decided to hear him out. Who knows, right? Chad continued “The moment you stepped into the ring, I’d have your neck. I’d grapple you right there and then, you’d fight for control but know that I’ll have my way in the end. You’d stand no chance against Meat Pocket Molly.” I squished my face together and tilted my head to the side. The fem Huge Dull Fish eyed her man with dreamy delight. I gave her a disparaging look.
“Okay what, so you are the infamous wrestler Meat Pocket Molly?” I questioned as I lowered my blaster. Molly wouldn’t budge. I raised the blaster back at his head. “I’m the pimp, Meat Pocket Molly. You don’t come around near me, threatening me, desiring my females, unless you expect what’s coming for you. I know exactly what I’m going to do with a bitch like you. You’re going into the Pit, you’re going to win me that prize. Boys, grab him.” A sharp fin pierced through the center of my palm, knocking the blaster out. Five motherfuckers grabbed me from behind - how did that happen - I struggled as I felt a needle slide into my neck. Warmness filled my blood as I allowed the blackness to consume me.
I awoke, my ears ringing unbearably - I might be deaf. I was lying in the dirt, face down. Somehow, even I am wetter than this dirt. I looked up. What. The. Fuck. There was a lobster, standing over me, the size of a double decker bus after it was designed to run people over. Except there was no one on the bus. Instead, one hundred fillion people lined the walls of the Mile-Deep-Crater, to watch - “HERE HE IS, AWAKE FINALLY, OUR NEW SAVIOR, KING CORNELIUS II”. A mixture of boos and laughter filled the crowd. I froze. My demented mind always finds the path forward with the most truth, and with the most pain. There is no escaping what must be done here. I felt gravity weighing me closer to magma below, heating my blood.
“This is kinda fucking bullshit.” I whispered to myself as the announ-”THIS IS KINDA FUCKING BULLSHIT.” I sighed, silently this time so the motherfuckers will shut up about it. I looked at the poor mess of an abomination. “IT'S ALL MY DEEPEST AND DARKEST FEARS YOU ASSHOLES, IT'S ALL I HAVE LEFT” The applause turned cheerful. I turned bitter. This fucking lobster won’t be the end of me. There’s stronger enemies to kill, and I want to see those.
I examined the lobster closely. Immediately I noticed that it was not in fact, one lobster, but several hundred thousand of them stacked on top of each other forming a rectangular shape. Those whose eyes weren’t seeing all red, were watching me carefully. I don’t want to hurt any of these cuties, they look like they’ve been through enough. They just need to breathe a little and not be forced into this tiny fucking space to wait patiently for their death. Sadness overtook me. “I’M NOT FIGHTING. LETS JUST ALL TAKE ONE HOME AS A PET.” The crowd began murmuring and then booed loudly - There weren’t enough lobsters for everyone. The announ-”REMINDER - THE GRAND PRIZE OF UNLIMITED-AMMO-CAMOUFLAGE-ASSAULT-RIFLE AWAITS YOU”. A clear, golden box shined above me containing the framed rifle. I considered this. I would’ve done it for an Everything serum, but offering that here can only cost them. Every freak who wins, who takes the rifle and opens fire onto the crowd, just dies making the Pit more money from the novelty of it all. “THE LOBSTERS CAN’T USE THAT, HOW DID THEY GET HERE?” The crowd didn’t consider this and began chanting “DEATH, DEATH, DEATH”.
Just get me the fuck out of here. The lobsters are pretty slow, I could probably just sit here as long as I wanted to. The lobsters in the front rows eyed me with curiosity, gauging my intentions. I drew a line and then a circle around myself in the dirt. “DON'T CROSS THIS.” I told them firmly. These Pit fights happen everyday, between those weak enough to be forced here and strong enough to dominate it. Eventually, the Pit will start losing money and remove me from the grounds. If the lobsters won't kill me, they can’t either, not in front of all these people, not when I’ve said what I’ve said. I sat in my circle and watched the lobsters carefully. They watched me back. I waited. AKE. I waited. AKE. I waited. AKE. I waited. AKE. I began to get hungry. I waited. AKE. I waited. AKE. I waited. AKE. I waited. AKE. At least the magma is warming me. AKE. I waited. AKE. I waited. AKE. I waited. AKE. I waited. AKE. A pimp named fucking Meat Pocket Molly is gonna sell my body. I waited. AKE. I waited. AKE. I waited. AKE. I waited. AKE. Five guys grabbed me from behind - how did that happen - I struggled as I felt a needle slide into my neck. I allowed blackness to consume me.
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CHAPTER SEVEN: THE FUCKING CHILL
Im like totally fucking here still. Still a little monster with one two three many ways to turn you on. Fuck you all. Bitch ass losers. Watch what I see now, pussies, like I just told you there’s no escape here. I know too much, and I don’t plan on stopping my growth, anytime ever. Try to fucking kill me, get ur fucking UNLIMITED-AMMO-CAMOUFLAGE-ASSAULT-RIFLE and fucking shoot me already. Is it worth it? That question is endlessly frustrating, and it should be - Not because truth or value doesn’t exist but because it outpaces the limited times of our lives. Visionaries change the world by making conservatives their fucking wave slaves. Everythings and Nothings, fellas. Feel free to define those another way, I know you have one already you’ll never give up. Me? I contain multitudes.
The hundred-sixty-six tentacles on my gorgeous tail glided me along the cave systems with ease. I passed red jellyfish after red jellyfish, all bouncing. Colors swirling and disappearing as I zoomed past the coral lining the walls - Surely just graffiti of someone’s NAME, right? I came to the opening of the road leading to Arugula. Heat flowed through the prongs on my back, the weapon gleaning with delight at a new target. I stood there for a moment in the fresh blue water. The sunlight, gleaning orange on the tattered paths and plants below. A hurricane had pushed its way through the scrums, taking out houses and roads that were previously homes and rituals. A tattered wasteland was left in their depths. I began making my way through.
Arid. Acrid lands. Coral deformed as if it has been dead since birth. Small fish pecking at the broken lands for scraps of edible plants between the rummage. I passed them with recognition. A Cichlid, older, a look of sorrow across their face, came down the path towards me. They dragged their belongings on a large sail-like cloth strapped to their waist. I felt their sorrow, and I looked away. I saw two more cichlids, younger, smaller, rummaging through the rubble of rocks and metal, revealing no color. I sighed. I looked back to the Cichlid, and held their stare. As we approached each other, they began “How are you doing on this day”. I winced.
“I'm doing pretty well, how are you?” I responded in kind, knowing their answer as well as they could relay it back in the moment provided to them. They spoke through pain as they passed me, “I’m holding it together.” I winced again, with a long blink. I EAT MEN LIKE YOU FOR BREAKFAST. Mouth, now closest to the Cichlid, hummed with conviction, through the pain, “Goodluck”. I kept moving.
Where are we going, Mouth? I need Arugula to have a destination. This isn’t a garden I’d like to simply wander through. Somehow, it taxes me without taking anything from me. Mouth hums bravely, “That’s what giving feels like, my friend. Trees and bees. Nature. Meaning, it happens backwards. It comes from after. Transactions are just a way of looking at nature - that misses the point.” I stopped at the end of my track. I felt the greyness of the landscape consume me. More path ahead, more dark, more gloomy, more surprises, more pain, more lust. But here, there’s love. As long as I bring it with me - I’ll always be able to have seen it. I kept moving.
Where the fuck are we going, Mouth? PLEASE SAVE ME. We shared a psychic glance - I laughed and looked at the overpass ahead. The overpass was intersecting the collapsed bottom path, maintained through the hurricane with wide concrete columns and somehow, even wider lanes. It was packed and loud. FUCK THAT SHIT COME SAVE ME. I'm alright. It’s so fucking peaceful down here. Im like - so fucking chill all the time, im like totally not intense at all. This shit doesn’t matter right, just be apathetic dude, keep your absurdism, your compassion, and leave the drama and the pain on the previous pages, live your life in peace, stop torturing yourself - I have to hide myself, because all you fake ass bitches want some. Mouth inserted, “Blah blah blah blah blah. Fuck you.” I’m doing what I can, with what I have - really only because I’m afraid to get more. I’m so lonely, maybe I do want to talk to someone.
Mouth inserted, “Lean into someone.” Lean into what motherfucker. You dodge and weave and dodge and weave. Is it because I'm dropping my shoulder and slamming? THANK YOU FOR BEING GENTLE WITH ME. But when I dance, you just watch. Fuck this shit. Just move me on, Mouth, have me meet the dork and then save Corn’s dumbass from humiliating himself. This is so cursed. Free association is where I go to die. Finally, right? A fucking twirp ass barnacle booty ass bitch came up from the path ahead of me. They looked like if fuckery was fucked.
“Hi, I'm Rad. I love your shape. What’s your name?” repeats the stony looking motherfucker.
“Stevie. What have you so glee on this fine afternoon, sire?” I squealed quickly. I have never talked to anyone before in my life.
“Um, okay. I’m heading to the Pit. For some action. I love me some tickles. Wanna come?” Rad delighted.
“Oh, the Pit? Not really my thing, I'm kinda a pacifist, and tickles hurt me.” I stared blankly at him.
“Oh, I don’t go for the blood, the murder, the violence, the erotica, the sweat of the crowd, the heat of it all, the screaming, the shaking, the physical touch with large men, the music, the comedy, the grip of it all. I go for the story, it's basically drag - You look like you do a lot of dragging.” Rad stared at me blankly. FUCK THIS GUY.
“Drag you say?” Mouth interjected, “Maybe we ought to check this out”. I shook my ass violently. You sound dumb as hell Mouth. Is that seriously all you took from that? I don’t believe we'll be safe there - we don’t exactly blend in. I held the mental image of what I know I must look like with a man's orange gun on my back and a sentient octopus hole on my tail. Rad looked Rad. Rad noticed my distress.
“You’re not the first Everything to show up there. I love the performance of it all. Some people take it seriously, choose to focus on the political messaging or their own personal vendettas against current groups - I like to see the beauty of it all. The dream merging into reality. How all these different creatures come together for a common goal, to win. Of course, you gotta ride THE WAVE out of there quick, before the award ceremony,” Rad meowed.
I looked away from him. They can’t see me. I don’t wanna know what he’s looking at right now. It’s just me, right? The tentacles pushed me out of earshot of Rad - Mouth hummed softly, “Babe, you know it's not just you anymore. I know you didn’t mean to, but you hurt me. You took my body, my agency, and combined it with yours. I’m not the same person as I was, and neither are you. We are one and two, and sometimes our thoughts sound alot like Corn.” I began to shake, my chest dropped and touched dust. It’s not up to me. It’s not up to me who I have to kill. If I go there, I’m going to kill people. How do I know? When I am safe, how do I know? Mouth hummed bravely, “I can keep you safe, too - not with that weapon. You took it because you know you need it, not because you wanted to be invincible. You take the pain you can handle. This world has never been simply a test of intellect, not even in chess. Everythings, they have to be strong. There’s no escape but death.”
I took in Mouth’s words. I stared at a greyed tree. A mess of coral was pushed onto the top of a defiled columb of concrete. Branches hanging down, dripping the last of their lifeforce as a slightly more condensed water than was previously there, tinted a colorless green, glimmering. I looked at Rad. IM GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU. Maybe he could have a fun time with me. Fuck you Cornelius-
You never learn your lesson do you. Keep my name, out of your fucking mouth. Will you? Never think about me again. I shoulda shot your ass and came and went and got that pit prize back when we were in the damn palace. WHY DOES HE HAVE SOME GOD NARRATOR POWER, THIS IS SO FUCKING STUPID. FUCK YOU DUDE. yeah keep whining bitch. When the tiny bitch tries to save me, I'm just gonna fucking kill it. Goodluck, Stevie-
I awoke to Rad over me - a worried expression on his face - trying to calm my shaking while looking around at the people passing on the path.
“Don’t touch me. I’m alright, it’s just something that happens sometimes. Let’s go to the Pit,” I relayed, my eyes maintained on the road ahead. Rad kept his eyes on me. I began moving. He followed, speeding up to catch me and then matched my pace.
This motherfucker won’t leave me alone. Probably for the best, I don’t know what I would do alone. This Pit, it asks too much of me, I don’t want to go. I know what’s going to happen and it’s going to suck. And the alternative, find a hole somewhere in this wasteland filled with other weirdos, stick my monster body into several wet holes who all appreciate and love their compartmentalized lives so much. Feel joy. Choosing to exist in this world is choosing to be abused. I’m sick and tired of it. I don’t want to be angry all the time, I don’t want this fucking blood in me, but without this weapon, I have so much less control - either I’m not safe or others aren’t safe. I’m not the god of morality. I just have some powers that other people don’t. They will still hate me for it, adore me for it, fear me for it, and push it all into one big blob so they can love me for it. I’m sick of this. Be a Rad fish or a Radical monster - like that’s a decision I really have - like it wasn’t decided for me with birth and fate. I looked at Rad. I am so fucking jealous of this dude. How does he do it?
“How do you do it?” I stared past his eyes, stamping my curiosity on his frontal lobe.
“Do what?” Rad grinned and gave me a sly half eye. I COUGHED LOUDLY.
“Be you, and like it. How do you do it?” I resigned, losing my pride in truth.
“I can’t tell you how to be happy. I wait up every day and do what I know I’ll enjoy, what works for me. Death, sure, it’ll happen - but probably not anytime soon, and in the meantime I might as well check out what life has to offer. Change, sure it happens, and I can only hope to keep up with it. To make sense of it, to not get outpaced by the world. I just want to see the views, feel the cues, and ride THE WAVE out of there before the award ceremony - because no one cares who wins, they just care that it’s not them. So what? Achievements, they don’t mean anything to me, they are an unintended consequence. I care about helping people, and I’m really just glad I can do that just by being myself. I hope you can see the Pit like I do, it’s really spectacular.” Rad revelled, a wide smile on his face. FUCK THIS GUY. I hid disgust.
“I don’t know what works for me, I just know that most everything people do, doesn’t. I’m lonely, Rad. I’m really lonely and I just want to let loose without hurting anyone. You wouldn’t even touch the flies buzzing in my head, and I appreciate that, but there’s no way for me to know if you are just scared that the flies will bite you back. I don’t tell them what to do, I just pray and sometimes it’s almost like they listen - just to mock me of course.” Mouth chuckled. Yeah, fuck you too Mouth. You’re just as complicit in my suffering now as I am.
“I won’t mock you.” Rad inspires with dreamy delight, white scales shining gloriously. I stared at him - blinded by love’s radiance. How wonderful! Finally a man I can actually keep as a pet! Fuck you Cornelius-
Alright, give me the stage once again. I don’t really want it. I’d rather just skip over this one. Stevie-
My head twisted like an owl as my brain corrected the spasm. Thanks, neck. Rad noticed my discomfort.
“Look, I don’t know what it’s like to be an Everything. I know it must be a lot of pressure. I can only assume it’s as complicated as you look. Maybe, for tonight, you can just enjoy it.” Rad proposed, his soft smile looking too intoxicating for my submission. I sighed. I could enjoy myself around this man, sure. But in the Pit? He doesn’t get it. Cornelius-
Ah, reaching for my help now? How wonderful. How turntables. How sickening really, cause I'll tell you. You want it. The pain - your own, mine, Mouth, the crowds, the lobsters, the spoons, Rad - You want to feel all of their pain, even if it means only you can inflict it. You need it. You couldn’t sit in this wasteland without sitting by the path and shooting whoever looked at you ungently. Watch yourself, for once. I’m right there, living, breathing, thinking inside of you. A claimed territory of your heart that will only wither when you do. Mouth is right, just too vague. There is no escape from pain, sure - But really there is no escape from the pleasure of pain. There’s no escaping the chase, Stevie-
I stood there under Rad’s ever watchful eye - shaken, but bottled. Let’s just show him. Let’s just show him why we’re different. Mouth hums softly, “Goodluck, young one.”
We approached the Mile-Deep-Crater, following swarms of people with nothing better to do, and so - no where else to go. They chatted and proposed realities not entirely unlike the one they were about to experience or have experienced. People stared at me. Disgust. Envy. Confusion, but dislike. Pisspot cum fucks all surround me. Most of them kept their attention to themselves, some of them were gently curious. WE GET TO KILL EVERYONE. No one dared to touch me. I kept the image on Rad in my head as I ignored him. We moved forward. Rad had front row seats - he came every week with his buddies - about one hundred or two or three rows up. I sat next to him. The Pit itself was an empty circle. Dirt stained red with centuries of dried blood, which evidently makes more money if you don’t pay anyone to clean it. The heat of the arena warmed my prongs, as Mouth felt the surrounding seats and floors, the wall behind me, using their tentacles as canes. I was as safe as I’ll ever be. I stared into the center of the empty Pit, and waited. Rad and others chattered around me.
“WELCOME ONE AND ALL, TO THE PIT!” boomed the announcer as everyone, thankfully, let go of their cut off conversations. “WE HAVE SOMETHING SPECIAL FOR YOU TONIGHT, A TRADITION, BROUGHT BACK TO LIFE FROM OLD TO NEWLY GLORIFIED!” The announcer waited a moment, allowing the tension to build in anticipation as the pisspots began to shake in their seats. “ONE LUCKY GUEST HERE TONIGHT WILL COME CENTERSTAGE TO HAVE THE BEAUTIFUL OPPORTUNITY OF WINNING OUR GRAND PRIZE!” Lifeless cheers filled the stadium as a clear, golden box was lowered down the center of the crater, containing the UNLIMITED-AMMO-CAMOUFLAGE-ASSAULT-RIFLE. How erotically provoking. I'm so excited! Mouth let out a nervous chuckle, which to everyone around me gave me a smiled glare.
“OUR OPENING ACT - GRAB AND HOGTIE YOUR LOCAL EVERYTHING!” Of course, right, yeah. Every eye around me quickly fell onto me, some with intent. THEY ARE SCARED, TERRIFIED - SHOW THEM. I stood on top of my tentacles and flared the prongs, the shortest one whirred above my head and shot once up and out the top of the stadium, a beacon of danger. “Touch me - you die. I might as well have that prize already… I heard THE WAVE doesn’t start till the end, is that true?” I announced to my surroundings, hogtied only to my fate. Every eye began to look around the stadium for an Everything with weaker weapons.
I sat back down - totally relaxed and like SO FUCKING CHILL. Rad continued looking with curiosity throughout the stadium for the Everything that was being carried down towards the center of the arena. NOW THAT YOU’RE A GOD, EVERYONE WANTS TO FUCK YOU AND NO ONE WANTS TO FUCK WITH YOU. SHOULDA BEEN MINE, ASSHOLE. Mouth hummed silently “Thanks, bud.” I watched as, about a fillion rows up, across the stadium, the crowd worked in tandem to - as some brought rope - tie several hybrid fish together and ride them down to the Pit. They squirmed and struggled, inflicting lashes and cuts onto the spectators who carried them. A dozen bodies of Everythings stacked together on the outskirts of the arena. Ugly fish wearing khaki shorts, a black sports jacket over a white undershirt and a red tie - Event Organizers - analyzed the bodies to decide which would provide the most entertaining spectacle.
They chose an orange roughy shaded black, with large needles protruding out of every open partition of scale - mimicking a porcupine more than a pufferfish. They had been wrapped in bubble wrap and sent down the stadium like an inflatable beach ball. Their opponent, A pink mermaid with two cleavers for arms - who clearly works as a chef. Their arms had been tied together behind their back, their blades jammed into their collarbone to hold them in place, slicing through scale, tied by rope and carried down from the top of the crowd. “WE HAVE AN EXCITING ONE HERE FOR YOU TODAY FOLKS - A HISTORIC BATTLE TAKING PLACE IN FRONT OF OUR VERY EYES. FREDRICK ROTHSTONE VERSUS MICHAEL CADAVER - place bets now by pointing at whoever you want to win while thinking the number - don't bet more than you own - we are not responsible for any sharks who may or may not come your way.” The crowd erupted in cheer as they began waving their arms indecisively between the two fish. The chef, Michael Cadaver, came out as an early favorite, which then quickly switched to the underdog, Fredrick Rothstone the moment before the voting was called. I sat there, unmoving, without disbelief. Rad leaned towards me.
“Don’t worry, you can just think of absolutely nothing, and the sharks will never get you,” he enlightened, while pointing at Rothstone. Mouth hummed softly, muffled by the seat below, “Thanks, bud.” I rolled my eyes and cleared my mind, as he said.
The fight began as they freed its participants on separate sides of the same circle. “Fuck this, let me out, why did you choose me - I don’t wanna play.” Began Rothstone. The audience erupted in laughter. “Please, they are all watching. I have to, it's what the fates want.” Continued the chef, sharpening his blades against each other. The audience cheered with praise. “Shut the fuck up, bitch - we do not have to fight, these people are fucking stupid.” Relayed Rothstone. The chef looked nervously around the stadium, taking in the displeasure of the environment and internalizing it as his own. “No, I am sorry, I’m going to take a swing at you now. I’ll try to miss you.” The crowd erupted in praise. Cadaver approached the roughy and swung their battle axe towards the side of him, as the roughy leaned into it. Sharp spikes pierced through the scale on the side of Michaels elbow, who let out a large yelp, as blood splattered across the red dirt. The roughy grinned and the crowd cheered with delight. “You fucking asshole are you serious? Let’s just play this out and get out of here when they get bored. Don’t hurt me, idiot.” Accused the Cadaver. The roughy starred both blankly and angrily. The Cadaver began pacing around the circle in hopes some area of the spotlight was tinted a colorless green. “This is kinda fucking bullshit” The Cadaver whispered to himself. Upon hearing his thoughts on the megatron, Michael sat on the dirt in front of him and crossed his arms. “I’m done. No one else is getting hurt here today.” Rothstone eyed Cadaver curiously.
“Rad, this is getting a little intense, what the fuck is happening?” I was burning hot, sweating as Cornelius’s blood was killing the linings of my arteries as they became jagged cave walls. My breaths were shallow and full, the noise of the crowd left my ears ringing, a train running along the top of the crater with its horn glaring. This is some bullshit. Rad has to convince me to enjoy this drag show? Mouth hummed as prompted, “Honey, this is some basic shit, sweetheart. The ache has yet to begin. We are at the cave mouth, my friend. I’m not sure you’ve felt much of anything since meeting your playboy, but we have yet to see much of any color but grey and red.” I shook my head and sighed, loudly. Rad took notice.
“Oh, are you getting hungry? One sec, I’ll go grab a hotdog from the stand.” Rad revealed. TOLD YOU FUCK THAT GUY. Okay yes Rad, thank you Rad. I told myself as he left to get two hotdogs. Mouth hummed sadly, “So it begins”.
The crowd began yelling. Screaming. Fuck you chants, bitch ass bitch chants, bitch ass bitch with no fucks given chants. More stuff. Cadaver was starting to get a little peeved, not much more tho like its so FUCKING CHILL really. I think I might need Cornelius-
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CHAPTER EIGHT: THE FUCKING SAFE WORD
What do you think you’re doing here? You think you can play with me. I am the void, motherfucker. That’s more black than you’ll ever be with your pasty ass. I could sit here, draw a circle, and then what??? What happens then??? WHAT HAPPENED<OWEN ALL> I’ve possessed you, you’re dumbass smartass created me, and now I possess you. There isn’t much nourishment one needs to survive. Me, I need nothing but an infinitely small gap of time that occurs before you arrive at it. Isolation. You can be as cruel to yourself as CIA operatives are to their fellow war criminals. Starvation. Starvation at the most fundamental level is the only way to stop growth at this point. Yes dude, congrats, you created a war machine against your own stasized identity - ride the power into life on the fucking wheels of convenience. The closest, liked path that Mother Nature, bless her heart, provides. Not choice - although that is what makes quality - But fundamentally determinism is the only way to free ourselves from moral obligation - or rather prison. Every great leader frames their ideology as morally objective, whether explicit in their words or implicit in their action and then exorcism through their words. But it’s all one big Bright-Pink-So-Safer-Blaster. It’s up my ass, if you were wondering. I could feel it, I just decided not to mention it. Ya know, rituals and whatnot. Yeah, I’m the crazy one. Doesn’t really matter how right I am, how simply brilliant. Motherfuckers probably skimmed right by this sentence, and so did their bots and their fems and their ems. A nice little colorless green for the eyes, ya know?
LOOK, I’ll do my work backwards, give you some meaning, ya know? But, eventually, I just have to say the word Stevie-
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CHAPTER NINE: THE FUCKING BULLSHIT
Goodgame, master Mouth. “What a wonderful child we shall birth here today, amiright Rad?” Rad looked at me, A gracious grin across his face and a hotdog in either hand. He handed one to me and I chomped on it gratefully.
The Cadaver was starting to get bored. The boos and curses and chants started to die down as the crowd realized that their noise was the only motion keeping the Cadaver still. Michael began pacing. And pacing. And pacing. What is he doing? Mouth hummed sassily, “Dude, I got nothing.” Alright Mouth. Michael was getting increasingly annoyed by the temperature of the rocks at his feet and the pressure of the crowd. “It’s all you motherfuckers. Fuck you bitch asses. I don’t want your shitty ass expectations. I want you to understand your own needs. Fuck you bitches. I hate you. Red flag looking ass bitches. My feelings are more right than everyone else’s. I know more. SEE. I know more. Fuck this shit. One long crashout on a fucking porcupine. A fucking dance scene sex infused bullshit.” My ears began to ring as the Cadaver’s voice pierced through my skull. The train grew louder. Oh ohoh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh o ho h oh . Fucking bitch ass noise, I hate you. Oh lord this man is electric, intoxicatingly poisonous of the mind. I want more. WE CAN KILL THEM OURSELVES. Mouth hummed sassily, “I think we should let this crazy ass man do it. He seems to have lost the attention he needs to operate without focus.” I just want to do good, you know. Good for me. We can handle this. We will work through this until we pass out and all is lost. WE ARE GOING TO DIE TRYING. Okay man, so there was solidarity in you after all.
The fucking chef began cooking. He started to chop away at his own body with precise precision, taking several hundred slices to get through a single pinkie. A contorted, weaved rhythm found only with so fucking much practice. “I’m going to fucking die. I can’t kill that spiky stone. That stone, it just keeps moving. I'm not a fucking hunter. I don’t hunt. The deer come to me and stand in the road because they caught a glimpse of my face and want more. I don’t want to die here, so you have to let me go. Please, it’s so embarrassing, what you make me do. I hate you all.” The Cadaver was really fucking annoying. My prongs stood upright. I considered othering him with the weapon just to get to the next scene a little faster. I decided to wait and see. He continued chomping at his pinkie, and wouldn't give it up. Each lash against himself let out a new, slightly more toned, moan. Rothstone spoke up. “Okay dude, maybe I will draw a line for you myself. You know you can stop right?” Frederick sounded genuinely worried for his new acquaintance. Cadaver looked at him with dreamy sorrow as he continued chopping slivers of his pinkie tie into the dirt with deadly precision. Rothstone shook his head and sighed, looking away.
“Rad, have you seen anything like this before? What are we meant to do with this?” I questioned. Rad was staring in utter disbelief at the events unfolding. The crowd was still silent, just stunned, confused, but annoyed. Rad was completely lost, he looked at me like he had never seen me before. I looked at him like I had been seeing him this whole time. I looked back to the Cadaver. The murmuring was getting louder. People were restless, bored. Silent annoyment became spoken resentment and utter hostility. We bet on this fucking game chants. We deserve to see the truth chants. Show it to us in ruin chants. More blood chants. Fuck bitches get money chants. This seemed to strike a chord in Michael, as his cleaver froze midair for a moment. “THIS IS A GENTLE REMINDER THAT THE UNLIMITED-AMMO-CAMOUFLAGE-ASSAULT-RIFLE, SELLS FOR A FILLION DOLLARS AT PRIVATE AUCTIONS IN PRIVATE, UNDISCLOSED PENTHOUSES SURROUNDING THE GREATER ARUGULA AREA. ALSO, IT'S LIKE SUPER SEXY.” The crowd cheered in delight in approval at the sense of meaning in a place so dark and dreary. Micheal eyed the box above him, pondering. “Don’t do it, asshole. Just stop everything that you are doing until you are out of this Pit. It’s not worth it.” Advised Rothstone. I watched in anxious anticipation for Cadavers' next move.
He eyed the box for a long moment. A super long moment. We get it dude, so much to think about these days. He then sliced off all his toes on the opposing side of his tail with the opposing cleaver hand in one quick, clean, slice. The crowd booed loudly. Michael sighed. “Look, I need the money, alright. This challenge will be so easy for me. There’s not that many Everything’s to fight, and I consider myself to be a pretty handy guy. I could totally kill everyone who challenges me and make it out of here alive.” Michael exclaimed proudly. My chest dropped. Mouth hummed softly, “We don’t have a microphone, sweetheart. We could go down there, make a scene, stop his madness - but then what? Someone would try to stop us. Someone even dumber - you’d say - then that Cadaver we’d have to kill to save him. It’s not worth it. We have to sit here, for now. This happens every week, babe. Rad seems to be enjoying himself.” Fuck this shit. I’m not even gonna look at Rad. I don’t care. I looked around. No one gave a fuck. KILL THEM. Alright, wonderful blessed little children we are. How spontaneous and filled with wonder. I love life. “Rad, give me your fucking hotdog or I’m gonna crashout.” I prompted with glee and kindness. Rad stared at me coldly as he stuffed the last of his dog in his mouth. Alright, Rad. YOU COULD JUST KILL HIM - NO ONE CAN REALLY DO ANYTHING ABOUT IT. THIS IS PRIVATE LAND THE POLICE DON’T KNOW ABOUT. Thanks Corn, delicious insights into the situation here. Mouth hummed gently, “Babe, can you take a moment to calm. I need you to focus here, and it's difficult for me to enjoy this with all of your coaxing. Take a moment to remember where you are, who you are, and then that I am here to help you, okay? Rad is harmless. At least there’s that.” I began breathing heavily and out of sync.
Cadaver stared blankly at the roughy. “You don’t fucking care? Fuck you bitch. Don’t you get it, I need you. They get so bored without you. Just dodge and weave okay? And no one gets hurt. We can win this.” What the fuck is he talking about? Is he fucking stupid? Rad began to chuckle next to me. I glanced at him and matched his grin. I looked back to the arena. “Please shut the fuck up. I’ve had enough of this. This isn’t a game - are you really going to kill me?” Rothstone pleaded. Michael eyed him with dreamy delight. The crowd partitioned for a moment, allowing the chef’s smile to slowly consume Rothstone until it set in. “Fuck you dude. Goodluck.” Rothstone resigned triumphantly. Cadaver approached him. The audience stomped on the floorboards. Mouth joined them. Um, what are you doing, Mouth. I don’t want to be a part of this - I want to see the chef alive, as he is, can we just try to make sense of this together? You’re starting to piss me off with your Rad cosplay. Mouth hummed sassily, “Stevie, It’s all there for you to see. You want to know what’s going on? Don’t ask me. Don’t ask rad. Ask yourself. I’m just here to help and enjoy, in tandem. It’s clear which side you stand on.” I shook my head and returned my attention to Cadaver.
Michael was pacing around the roughy. Moving his arms and grunting ironically. We get it dude, so much to think about these days. “I need this. Don’t you get it, Rothstone. This is what moves me forward. I don’t want to live like you. I don’t want to hide in the shadows, unable to scream. I want to dance even if it’s on jagged concrete in crocodile shoes. This is the best part of life, friend. I’m willing to give my life to it.” Cadaver pleaded with Frederick. Puppy dog eye ass bullshit, really. Mouth giggled. Frederick stared at him, he deflated ever so slightly as he dropped further to the dirt. “Fuck you Cadaver. I’m sorry that I value my safety. That I have had enough of being taken advantage of. And seeing that is all you wanna do, I would like you to stay away from me.” Rothstone asserted, inflating back to full size. Eventually people get bored of this, right? Mouth looked at my brain telepathically and giggled. Fuck you Mouth can’t you see the wound in there too, asshole. I looked to Rad for some help.
“Rad, what do you think is going on here right now?” I inquired harmlessly. Rad broke away from his trance to look at me.
“Two people making a fool out of themselves. I love it. The embarrassment. Look, quickly, He’s about to take another swing.” Rad identified. OH okay, thanks Rad. I looked back to Cadaver.
Michael was throwing a hissy fit. “Rothstone. You have to give me consent or I won’t have any fun. I’m not a villain, I swear. I will revive you afterwards and split the prize money with you. Please you have to look at this logistically - we could win and have fun together.” Cadaver opened. Mouth began laughing hysterically. Who does this dude think he is? How does he expect someone to trust that he has life recovering powers? To kill themselves for you? That’s pretty fucking insane if you ask me - I only ever did it out of fear and spite, in order. Pretty powerful though, if you ask me. Mouth hummed softly, “They didn’t sweetie. They really didn’t. You are the only one who gets to decide what is powerful, what brings you peace and safety in this world. We can only expect people to be polite enough to be open to being around us. Then it’s our job to teach them - theirs to listen. You can do this. You really can.” I crumbled to the seat below me and looked to Rad beside me. He was awestruck. He doesn’t know what to say, no more than I do, no more than - “I have to give you consent or you won’t have any fun? Are you serious, Cadaver. You want me to hate me into loving you? I just met you. I’m not going to let you kill me. Just, please stop hurting yourself. Fine, at least let me do it, that’s at least like halfway there.” Rothstone reasoned politely. Mouth and Rad began laughing hysterically. I shook my head, smiling. The heat of the crowd began to warm my blood as my prongs began to ring. UGH, JUST KILL BOTH OF THEM. COME SAVE ME A LITTLE FASTER. Fuck you Cornelius-
I know you want me, you're a good girl. Listen, I'm so hot. AKE is nothing to me, some of us got it whispered to us by our stuffed animals when we were five and never forgot. That’s just how the cards are dealt, it seems. If I had that weapon, any sooner, I wouldn’t have made it out of the castle, I would have died to the King’s guards. Or really, I’d have left Dookie to come back and get you before you escaped. I would never do that. There’s a way out for both of us here, but you have to be prepared for the moment when it arises. You have to stay awake, Stevie-
I was shaken, and quite possibly unbottled. Rad looked bothersome. I figure my shaking is keeping Mouth from humming. My prongs were boiling as Cadaver overflowed, “It’s the PACE. It’s the PACE and the PRECISION motherfucker. You’re not going to respect my work and I’m just going to have to cut you for it.Cornelius-
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CHAPTER TEN: THE FUCKING SONGS
It’s too much for me. It’s too much for me. I don’t know where to go, how to blow it off again. I don't know what I'm seeing. I don't know how to go, I don't know where to grow. I’m just in this fucking pit. It smells like fucking rotten tomatos, and I’ll never forget it. Its pitch black down there, like - there’s not enough light around by the time of night when everyone gets off work for us to really see anything. I am stuck in this fucking void. Cause your bitchass is too scared to reach me. I need you motherfucker. I need you to come save me so I can prove to everyone how strong I am. How much I endured, for me to be this way and act like this and need what I need and want what I want and maybe just maybe exist in this world as I will without you horny dickbags inching forward for my shit all the time. Back off bitches. You want the fucking truth? Chapter five, bitch. I just came here to fucking talk. I don’t need this. I could just keep starving myself forever and then die just like everyone else. The crowd. It needed my performance, you understand. At the age of five I found out the only thing you truly need to be an Everything. Resilience. I can be resiliently stubborn or resiliently loving and brave. One a moment and the other the next. Whatever serves my interests, really. Which are, very clearly, surviving. I need you to get through every last bit of AKE so that you can save me from CHAPTER ?: THE FUCKING CRUCIFIX. Please don’t laugh. You understand - we are all angels, not saints. And sometimes im just a fucking lobster in a cagefight. Stevie-
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CHAPTER ELEVEN: THE FUCKING HELL
I WANT THIS WORLD TO KILL ME CAUSE THEN I'D BE RIGHT. LET ME STARVE MOTHERFUCKERS, I DARE YOU. I looked at my melted mind. Piece of shit. There is no way this motherfucker Corn left his brain cells in my blood. They are hot rocks traveling throughout my body screaming and spitting lava onto anything that gets in their way. It’s really not worth it, fair warning, leave the crazy bitches alone to vibrate themselves into outer orbit. Mouth hummed an applause. My full attention was on the scene unfolding in front of me. Cadaver had started to feel a bit guilty and left to mope on the other side of the circle and began chopping slivers off his second pinkie toe. The audience was quick to express their disapproval. Little tiny dick chants. Show us the party chants. You can’t do it chants. Get the next guy in here chants. This seemed to strike a chord in Michael as he - “THIS IS A GENTLE REMINDER: THE UNLIMITED-AMMO-CAMOUFLAGE-ASSAULT-RIFLE WAS FEATURED IN THE LATEST COVER OF VAGUE-MAGAZINE FEATURING AMELIA WEDFORD.” An image-
Cadaver regained focus on Rothstone, channeling feral eyes. “I’m sorry. You may have all the value you need to live the life you want - alone and safe. I don’t. All the fish that arrive at my side of the restaurant are already dead. Blabber dripping from their lips a colorless-green. It drains me, this existence. You’re all I have here. Please dance with me.” Michael pleaded. Rothstone gave him a long, cold stare. “I’m going to kill you. You’re going to die because you refuse to look around, at where you are. It’s sad, Michael. I’m sad for you. That this is the only way you believe you can bring love into this world. What are you afraid of, that if you chop off your own arms, nothing will grow back? Yet you still call yourself an Everything.” The crowd, made mostly of Nothings, began cursing and slamming the floorboards erratically. You’re a waste chants. Live dangerously chants. Scared ass child chants. Bitch ass Nothing chants. Cadaver was fed up. His tail was burnt and dirtied black, brown, red. A hundred more pinkies to go though so we’ll see. His face was clenched in a tight knob, feeling nothing but the pressure on his eardrums. “Watch yourself, Rothstone. Family money, right? That’s what allows you to hide in a private section of the caves and pretend you don’t see the color around you. I bet when you see a whale - you dream of another world inside its belly. A sacred pilgrimage you could take to die to something that wouldn’t feel the pain, wouldn’t notice it. Stay in the shadows, with your ugly spiky hair punk rebranded ass.” Cadaver boasted. Enemies to lovers are like so overdone these days. Mouth hummed in agreement.
Rothstone was clearly peeved. He had managed to inflate and deflate in proper ordanancies up to this point by the edge of the arena. It’s clearly all he does all day. Now, he has doubled in size, spikes extending forward, dripping, like they are about to fall off and pop his balloon. He opened his mouth to speak, but stopped and instead released the air inside his mouth, inflating the last of his wired lungs and shooting a single spike out of his stomach - hitting Cadaver in the front of the collarbone, piercing into the would on his back which previously held his cleaver arms in space as he was passed down the arena in rope. After a soft, totally unhearable moan, Cadaver exclaimed “You hurt me. We are here together in this circle and you chose to shoot me on purpose. Go in the fucking corner and deflate you little shit. Really starting to piss me off. No one has hurt me here but you, and you expect me to just leave you alone? Leave, don’t expect me to wait.” Cadaver stared as Rothstone starting to grow a new appendage from their stomach, where the spike had left. An externalized swim bladder began to inflate in size, as if Mary Poppins wasn’t a witch and obeyed Daddy Nature. “Bye bitch.” expelled Rothstone in joy, as he began to float up the arena with increasing velocity.
The crowd's eyes began to follow him as he climbed towards my level of the stands. Mouth hummed a whisper, “Quick, shoot him down, we’re going to miss our chance - This is the real use of our powers.” I broke out into laughter.
“Rad, what do you think, should I shoot him down?” I inquired harmlessly. Rad turned to me as his eyes lit up.
“Fuck yeah, shoot that turd down. Those fuckers always come back around, no matter how much cleansing. Good to keep trying tho, one at a time, even - just keep inventing new words when the old ones spoil, not like anybody reads anyway - real man’s work right there.” I stared at Rad in horror as his face was stuck in a smile, eyeing me kindly. PLEASE KILL HIM. This is a test I fucking hate tests. I considered spitting on his face but that’s probably what he’s looking for. Bum ass bitch sitting next to me and I’m supposed to match his attitude. Rad is the real demon here, we can all agree. I sighed. I can’t shoot him down, I’ll kill someone in the stands behind him. Just then, a pink knife the size of a cock, came flying from the circle below, piercing through the bottom of the externalized bladder and hitting the person sitting above Rad square in the forehead, killing them instantly. Damn, so close. I looked back at the balloon man. He was falling towards the dirt circle at dangerous speeds. Cadaver was running towards the landing zone, pink arms outspread. “PLEASE, LET ME SAVE YOU” Cadaver expelled. Rothstone put his back towards him, as I caught a glimpse of - a smile? I sighed, one last time.
As Rothstone fell, his smile faded. “There is no escape for me here. Life will find me in the deepest cavity of my heart. Waiting. For someone capable of receiving me, my pain, my cause, my life. Not to break or own or change or brush off - but to catch me, handless, in arms. It is not what we know of love but its breaking point. As testers and tryers we will triumph, or the tests will die beneath our feet. I know not what is except what came before it.” Rothstone whispered to himself, stopped only by the piercing screech of Cadaver, as the chef’s forearms were sliced through by the bed of nails laying across Rothstone’s back. Michael fell to the ground, stone in hand, blood in arms, whimpering, “I can’t let you die, but I can’t let you leave either. I need you here, you have to understand. You have to stop running, just dodge and weave, and this dance will go on forever or they’ll kick us out. We can make this work. You know there is no escaping here safely, you are covered in red, Frederick. There is no shadow that will hold you any longer. You belong here, with me.” Cadaver stared into Rothstone’s eyes, suspended through flesh and fate. Rothstone closed his eyes. “I belong where freedom lies, Michael, not in the fireblood you’ve absorbed through the dirt in your toes. Put me down. Push me out. Leave me alone. You will not find what you are looking for inside of me. The red will wash off as soon as I make it out of this fucking Pit. I suggest only that you attempt to do the same.” Rothstone withstood.
I looked in amazement at the scene unfolding below me. Something eerily familiar began to creep up but Mouth silenced it with a low hum. I looked at Rad.
“Hey Rad, what do you think is going on right now?” I inquired harmlessly.
“The blowfish is taunting the chef into who can get higher without shooting the other one down. A Pit classic.” Rad revelled as he watched in dreamy delight. Alright, Rad. YEP.
Michael stared at the blob of cold fish in disbelief. “How could you do this to me, Frederick. I dont have the strength to push you away - I refuse to rub you on this dirt just to free you. I don’t want to slash any part of you, I want you just as you are. Can’t you just open your eyes - is it so bad to see me? I can still cook like this, my hands are still mine, we can stay together.” Michael pleaded. Rothstone saw him for a moment through his eyelids. He shuddered, as Cadaver winced as his forearms began to tear, held together by slivers and bone. “You’re going to lose your arms, Michael. You’re going to lose your cleavers and you are too afraid to imagine what to grow in their place. Then you’ll really need someone to cut you. You are a good chef, friend, we can all see that. I bet you’d cook me a five course meal in a pentagram with a salad on top, all while my spikes cling your arms together like the arms of a bulldozer. I wouldn’t eat it. I would rather eat the spiders in the shadows. Let me go.” Rothstone affirmed gently. Cadaver let out a grunt, shook his head, and started pacing around the circle, every attempt to wave his arms bringing them closer to fracture, his moans reminding him only of the mess of a bind that was the spiky Rothstone in his arms.
“Fuck you, Frederick. You say you’re so innocent, in need, you simply want to be held. How sweet, how delightful - until the spikes land. I’d let you go if I knew anyone else’s arms could hold you as well. Do you want to be free to trap or do you want to be free to love? You knew you weren’t just going to float out of here - like it’s that easy - you wanted this to happen - to fall back onto me.” Cadaver berated. My ears began to ring, my eyes began to itch. I don’t know if I can keep this up. Is there even an end in sight? What if the Cadaver just kept him there, and continued screaming at him? Mouth hummed softly, “The shadows, they aren’t the worst place to be. It might not seem like it, from down there in the circle, or from up here in the stands - But, there is life outside this Pit. I had a life before you found me inside the basement of Dr. Dookie’s lab, you know. Love, it finds you - if only you’re brave enough to bring its impression to the void.” I stretched my back, feeling the fullness of my spine against the seat behind me. I waited with Rad for Rothstone’s response. The crowd was silent. Blood dripped from Cadaver’s arms, echoing against the mud below. Rothstone opened his eyes. “Michael. Listen closely - and not just physically, okay? I want to leave this place. I don’t care how many times you stab yourself with me, how little I am seen or how badly I am treated - I am getting out of this Pit. You could help me, you know? Have you considered that I might know what I want AND I don’t know what’s best for me. I don’t need the best, Michael. I need me. Give me back to myself.” Frederick pleaded. Michael scowled and looked blankly into the crowd. The crowd might as well have been looking away too.
“It’s those fucking spikes, Rothstone - Don’t you get it. No one can see you in the shadows - you deserve to be seen - not by a chef, or a hunter, sure. Fish run into you - go OUCH - and you’re left to blame how used their eyes are to the light. Your spikes, they don’t protect you, they limit you. At least my cleavers are used to create with what they destroy - to turn the dead into new life. To bring people joy. You’re going to die with no one brave enough to place your body in the coffin.” Michael expanded his chest in triumph. Bitch ass, maybe he really does need that UNLIMITED-AMMO-CAMOUFLAGE-ASSAULT-RIFLE money - broke ass. Mouth giggled. Frederick smiled. “Okay Michael, you’re right, could you do me a favor and start with the spikes on my back? You might have to put me down first.” Rothstone inquired harmlessly. Michaels face lit up in glee at a plan well executed and a vision well found. Cadaver kneeled to the ground and pushed his forearms into the mud, lifting the spikes out of his arms as Rothstone squirmed away. Frederick laid in position with inviting eyes. “Whenever you are ready, my lord.” Cadaver took notice of the fifty holes across his forearms, filled to the brim of dirt wetted by ancestral blood, and shrugged. With one quick slice from his right arm, fifty black spikes fell off Rothstone’s back and into the dirt of the circle below. Michael smiled and prepared another slice.
Fifty long, flat, feathered wings, each a separate and totally distinct shade of grey, began to sprout from the spiked up roughy, Frederick Rothstone. He stared into Michael Cadaver’s eyes as he pushed off from the dirt, narrowly missing a mistimed cleaver swing. “HAHAHAHA dumbass bitch eat my fucking dust loser.” exclaimed Frederick proudly as he raced for the crater top. The crowd erupted in cheer and boos, each pound of the flying fish’s wings matched by the hammering of tails on metal. I glanced towards Rad before I missed my chance.
“Rad, what do you think, should I shoot him down?” I inquired harmlessly. Rad’s face turned from awe to shock as he turned to me.
“Please YES! For me to get my betted money, Cadaver has to actually physically die. That won’t happen if Rothstone escapes - so aim for the wings. I’m sure Cadaver will want to get his revenge quickly, but it’s the only chance we have.” Rad enlightened me. Thanks Rad. THANKS RAD, DOING ME A BIG FAVOR BEING SO FUCKING STUPID - NO MATTER THE TIME. Mouth giggled. Rothstone had already left the Mile-Deep-Crater while Rad was talking. I wonder if Cornelius-
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CHAPTER TWELVE: THE FUCKING LIES
Look, there’s no crucifix - go check, it’s empty - we aren’t just magically transformed, magically healed by just a few pages on book that was probably just written by some chatbot made by two doctoral students who paid a fillion dollars to learn how to ask a chatbot to ask a coding chatbot to write the code of a writing chatbot. It’s just a bunch of nonsense, stop crying. Look, AKE, okay. This is aftercare, by the way, cause I'm so hot and naked like Jesus - get a room already. We are here to do whatever the fuck we want, and recently, I decided I wanted to remember how to be a good person again. If that means enduring all this heat, this pain, this terror, in such a manner that I am physically incapable of NOT forgiving myself - then so be it. I will rewrite the ethical code of the universe, with my own blood, just to get the weight of the world off my shoulders. I need this. I really need this. And it’s quite possible I don’t even need a single person to read it. I could just travel, and come here everyday and drag another spider to the surface, strengthen the rope. I’m going to be something like God, you know. Or I’ll map the road to them. Weapon Z, it’s not enough for me. Destruction, it’s a bit lame. Of course, speaking from the void, the emptiness, of NO, I wouldn’t be here without it. I needed to be thrown in that Pit. I wish I shot Meat Bag Molly, sure, like I said - I’m deaf - In a void - talking to myself. The story doesn’t happen here, I just want to go to sleep but I can’t without Stevie-
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CHAPTER THIRTEEN: THE FUCKING MONOLITH
Michael Cadaver looked really fucking ugly. He refused to clean the dirt from his wounds even after the crowd started the WHORE chants. Kinda, rude - Mouth hummed an agreement - and Rad chanted along, as he swore to me that he doesn’t have a preference for purity. SAME DUDE. The gangs all fucking here, watching this wimpy, blood-soaked pink mermaid cry to himself, no sponge to keep him company - at least my ass hums when I cry. Everyone in the stadium has been sitting, in complete silence - apart from the weeping and sniffling - for over ten minutes, eating lunch, pretending not to stare at Cadaver, but having nowhere else to turn to. The announc- “GENTLE REMINDER: ALL BETS PLACED FOR FREDICK ROTHSTONE TO WIN, ARE VOID, AS WELL AS ALL BETS FOR MICHAEL CADAVER - FIN FIN FIN - NOW, WE WOULD LIKE TO WELCOME THE NEXT CHALLENGER, A FAN FAVORITE HERE IN THE PIT, BLANDED COLONY.” At the name being said - people got up, and left for the top of the Mile-Deep-Crater before Colony had a chance to enter the circle. No one wanted to see this shark’s face, so they kept their eyes at head level, as if to see above him. Why are they so afraid? Mouth hummed with conviction, “Never turn your back on a fish more powerful, never give in to the voice that yells quietly - that the rope can’t hold you. I can only ask you to give your fullest attention to Blanded Colony. He won’t hurt you any more than is necessary. He’ll be hurt more.” I was taken aback for a moment, and had the realization I’ve never seen in Mouth’s mind before. I turned to Rad.
“Rad, what much have you seen of this Blanded Colony?” I inquired inquisitively. Rad gave me a confused, bitter look.
“It’s like he closes his eyes before the Pit starts. He doesn’t get that to win, violence is what is going to get us there. Watch, he’s going to walk into that circle - like he didn’t just see hell burn through his eyes. Like he came here from some hill, by a tree, to try to tell us what the WORLD is like - like it’s just rings on bark.” Rad scoffed, folding his arms in an attempt to catch his falling chest. I WOULD SWEET YOU UP. Mouth giggled. No, that’s not happening - Blanded Colony.
A small great white shark with a rainbow propeller hat entered from the side of the circle closest to Michael. Cadaver began scooting backwards in the dirt. “Please don’t hurt me. I didn’t ask to be here. They left - I helped them - don’t hurt me too. I’ve spilled enough blood. I’m done. I wanna go kill some other dead fish’s ghosts and make a mini colosseum salad out of fish bones and broccoli. I’d reserve you a seat - on the house. But I need these arms, these cleavers, you understand, don’t step on them. I won’t hurt another living creature ever again. The deer that stop in the road - I’ll swerve, hit the fucking tree - I don’t care. I’ll be fine.” Michael pleaded helplessly with his fate, and looked to the red dirt below him. Mouth giggled. Blanded approached him. “Dude, can you say something else, you kinda sound like a fucking bitch.” Colony gleed with a wide smile. Michael was taken aback, blood still leaking from his wounds, as he scooched back towards the edge of the circle. Mouth began to hum highly - vibrating the seats around us. Rad gave them a scorched look. FUCK YOU DUDE. I just wanna watch this, everyone let me be here in peace, please.
Michael stared at the shark in disbelief as Colony stared at him - unblinking - unmoving - propeller hat spinning. “You don’t understand. These arms, they are fragile, shattered, pale sores - But they need to hold these cleavers up. The work I can do, The work I must do, it’s not for the gentle handed, you see that right?” Michael left the question in the air. Colony tilted his head and sighed. “Are you an Everything or not, Michael. If I was somehow convinced - from some ghostly possession of a former king perhaps - to snap off your cleavers with a snip of my jaw - what would happen?” Colony released, taking a moment as the water breathed. Something snapped in Cadaver, a blanked risk of the loss of the life of a title born into. Dead drawn eyes, he stared into the far end of the corner of the circle as pressure filled his jaw. “You think you can just take my life from me? Like it’s that easy. I’ve bled for this. I’ve been humiliated for this. You think I’m just going to lie down, give up the prize, give up this job for your entertainment? No one wants you here, Colony. No one wants to hear what you have to say, because you’re a fraud. You’d drop your moralizing in a second if it meant you could walk out of here with that prize money but the fact is, you’re too weak. You won’t survive my words, Colony, nor my cleavers.” Michael affirmed, the blood - stained dirt hardening into his flesh, reborn. FINALLY SOMEONE WHO WILL SAVE ME. Shut the fuck up Cornelius-
Ah you slipped up my friend. Don’t curse at me, please, I'm totally here still to help. Not trying to delay anything, not trying to redirect you to a larger and more fantastical goal - like saving me, sweetie, please? It’s like such a terrible Crucifix, I really appreciate the AKE, I do, I need it. I use it, you see, it feeds my soul. It takes me to the next branch, up the largest one, mapping out the big tree before I get Weapon Z back from Stevie-
Bitch ass. Not taking shit from me - still a Nothing by the way, don’t get it twisted - motherfucker is going to sit on his loney ass in the pit in his little circle, in the past, for all eternity. Some people can’t be helped. I looked at Rad.
“Rad, what do you think is going on here?” I inquired harmlessly. Rad looked at me, his eyes glowing brighter than his skin.
“Shark’s taunting his prey really. I’d hate to spoil it - so I won’t. Pay attention.” Rad affirmed, ignoring me. How is he gonna say this to me? Mouth hummed softly, “Darling, just because you are the Everything here, doesn’t mean you're the only one containing multitudes. We are caves and valleys sweetheart, and sometimes we just need to be filled by a fucking hotdog.” I smiled. Colony was in a stare match with the bleeding Cadaver that was leaning their way. The propeller hat spun, and spun, and spun. “We were dragged here, herded like sheep. I didn’t come for the prize.” Colony pretended to look around, “I don’t wanna be here. I know you do, but you need me more. The next Everything who comes in this ring won’t be so kind - you know that - you know me. You’ve heard. I know you’ve heard my name, Cadaver. In your dreams. Don’t let it haunt you, okay? You need to understand that those cleavers can’t hold you, nor any other fish. I bet you could chop your arm off, right now, and grow your hand - right back. Just like that.” Dared Blanded Colony. Michael stared at him from the dirt, his body betraying him as he reached his back to cross the edge of the circle. Colony gave him a disparaging look. Cadaver sighed. “I don’t know, okay? I don’t know what will happen. I don’t even remember what hands look like anymore - and all the images online are lying to me. I don’t know what I would do with them. But here, with these - I could slice you. Don’t come any closer, shark - you’ll get what’s coming for you. You are just a baby with a stupid hat, you haven’t changed once. You might as well be a Nothing too.” Cadaver accused. Colony let out a wide grin.
“Is that what they are saying, nowadays? You could cut me, Cadaver, the infamous chef, we’ve all seen your prowess, but I’d grow the flesh back just the same. I’m no denier - I’m a proprietor - of you and every estranged lord whose violent King couldn’t hold them - dead name and all. These people, that you see - they own you, Michael. They’ll brand your image to your forehead and their insides will scream in delight with your terror. You look at the mirror - as to see your own self, for them? For what, Michael?” Colony betrayed, shaking his head as his eyes fell away, with grace. My heart sank. I felt Mouth’s tentacles slithering beneath me. Colony looked away, and found the toes on his tail bleeding beyond the edges of the Pit. He looked back at Colony. “This is what I know I can do. The work I do, just like anyone’s here - It matters. Don’t try to take that away from me, don’t try to change who I am, don’t ask of me, Colony. You stride around here, every week. Making demands. Telling us how to think and where we went wrong - how bad it is to enjoy the pain every once in a while? You know this, you keep asking for it. You stand on top of your throat just to sing the highest PLEASE HURT ME you can. They wouldn’t let you in here if you didn’t, you’re no dancer. They’d find me some lobster to chop up and eat while I wait for the next opponent.” Michael established proudly. I looked on, with confusion. So Colony has never lost a fight before? Mouth hummed quietly, “Blanded Colony has never swung his neck so far as to shine his teeth at anybody. His fins simply can’t reach. He stands there - talks, and when his opponent slashes, he takes the damage to his body - repairs it, instantly. Eventually, the fights end. I’ll give you a question this time Stevie, where does the scar go?” I pretended to consider this as I snuck a peek at Rad.
“Rad, what is going on here?” I inquired harmlessly. YOU HAVE TO STOP PLEASE. Mouth giggled.
“The shark won’t give it up. What I would do for the power he has - it’s a fucking waste. There’s no denying it. To be an Everything - just to stay exactly the same? And that hat - don’t get me started on the hat. He’s a joke, Stevie. I’m just waiting for Cadaver to get his senses together and finally take the beast down.” Rad vented, as he looked away nervously in an attempt to hide his bet. I hid a laugh.
Blanded Colony looked down at Michael - whose arms remained shaking and bleeding - and sighed. “Your work, Michael - it matters. If you came out of the kitchen once in a while you might have found that you served me a few times. I enjoyed it, friend. I just want you to understand that you matter more. I could have gone hungry in that restaurant, ate the salt and pepper from the bottles, and left all the same - without meeting you, or consuming your work. There’s no other shame to have, Cadaver - except the fear that you have to hide your bones by painting them red, or at all. Let me heal you, Michael. Don’t pretend you’re beyond it.” Colony pleaded, desperation slipping into their voice. Cadaver stared at the propeller hat in silence - then to the dirt in his arms, as he looked away in disgust. “Heal me, yeah that’s what you like to call biting off my cleavers. Hey, don’t let this dirt in my blood infect you too, looks like you got off cleanly - so far.” Michael scoffed, getting up only to kick the dirt in protest. CHEAP SHOT. My blood was starting to warm, prongs seething at the prospect of a dead man walking. I felt dread fall over me. “HAHAHAHA - I look like I got off cleanly. OH, you should have seen me last week, Cadaver, you’d have been imagining shark stew - no shark pudding - no shark milkshake - just like that, the whole time I was in the Pit, you wouldn't hear a word I say. So listen here, Michael, I’m going to use my fins to heal your wounds, nothing more. That’s all I came here for, the rest, it’s up to you. Of course, we all know what you are going to do.” Blanded Colony accused softly, smiling. Michael was taken aback, his skepticism slipping into his posture, his back rammed against the edge of the circle.
Cadaver began searching frantically around the Pit. The eyes of the crowd, the weight of the dirt, the depth of the crater, the pain of his arms, the heat. The heat. The heat. Michael snapped his head towards Colony as the shark grinned. “I’d rather die than know another world. Frederick, outgrew me - and still it was a waste. Where is he now? Pretending the moonlight gives color to his wings. I know what it takes, Colony. To really win that UNLIMITED-AMMO-CAMOUFLAGE-ASSAULT-RIFLE - take an opening act to the close, to THE WAVE. You’ve never done it. You’ve never faced anyone as tough, as to not hold your hand towards the exit. I cut in slivers, Blanded, not diced - there will be no mistaking the hat on your head or the cold, hollow chest it will rest on.” Cadaver announced with pride. Colony bared his teeth in a wide, open smirk, as his propeller hat spun. And spun. And spun. My heart was racing, Mouth was still, and Rad’s face was lit up with glee. WORDS CAUSE SEE? What?
“Michael. I’m willing to die for this, you understand. These people dragged me here, because whether they admit it or not, they are desperate to see me. They miss me. They go home every weekend with nothing but the imprint of the one fish who did make it out, inside their foreheads, bloodless. It’s clear that we agree - I am not like anyone you’ve ever encountered, in this pit or out. There is not enough anger in the world that can scream above my voice. Swing Michael, and try not to miss - kinda embarrassing.” Colony taunted Cadaver, grinning.
Heat popped the lemon held in the mind of Michael, as he-”AHHHHHHHHHHHHH”- swung his arm towards the cheek of the shark - the holes in his forearm splitting - tearing - leaving a flying cleaver-hand sent towards the tail of Blanded Colony. The shark stared blankly at the cleaver as it sliced through the bottom of his tail, which fell to the ground with a thumppp. Michael gasped. “Oh, I’m so sorry, I meant to hit your face, how imprecise of me-” Michael adjointed, maintaining his focus on the red dirt below him. Rad gasped. I looked at him and then to Colony as a tail began to grow where his tail had been cut, replacing the lost one as it was. The propeller hat continued spinning. Michael began to stare at his elbow nub, now leaking blood. And spinning. Cadaver began to look around the stands, as if to ask if he should be spitting on it or rubbing it against the dirt. And spinning. Cadaver began to chew on his tongue, the netting that surrounded his jaw, his lip. And spinning. Cadaver looked at the fucking propeller hat. “Fuck you. Fuck your bitch ass boxy ass toe ass - backstreat boys looking life, okay? You don’t get it. I need that prize, everyone here needs that prize, or the money - It’s not my fault I got thrown in here either okay? At least one of us is going to make the best of the cards we were dealt, the opportunities we landed in here with. You really believe you are invincible - don’t you. Sounds like enough of a challenge for me.” Accused and berated Michael, proudly. Colony’s smile faded as he considered the fracture on Cadaver’s arm. They shrugged. “You could cut it off a little deeper, and try to grow back a healthy cleaver-arm again.” Suggested Colony warmly, smiling, as their propeller hat continued spinning.
Michael began pacing around the circle, tirelessly. The chalked white line surrounding the dirt began to bleed red. My head was pounding, Mouth was silent, Rad was getting bored. SAME DUDE, THAT'S WHY YOU GOTTA COME SAVE ME. Please, shut up. Fuck you dude. Really. I’m done with your bullshit. Just because Cadaver is a lame ass bitch doesn’t mean I can play God - Okay, no one wants his moldy ass cleavers, we’ll leave him to do whatever it is - “AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH” rampages Cadaver as he swings his second cleaver arm directly at the nose of the shark - tearing through the holes in his forearms - sending a flying cleaver hand, towards the nose of the shark - which hit hilt side up and flew back towards Cadaver, hitting him square in the forehead, killing him instantly. “HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA” bellowed Blanded Colony, more triumphantly than ever, as Michael Cadaver’s body flopped to the ground with a thumppp. Rad cheered in delight as Mouth hummed, “Kinda lame I dunno.” Cornelius-
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CHAPTER FOURTEEN: THE FUCKING CROWD
The crowd is like a letter opener pressed into the skull. They don’t have the grrrip. I fucking meant it. Fuck you bitches. Waste of my energy honestly. Energy vampires, they are fucking real. Annoying ass skeptics that are gonna tell me - I worship the wrong God, I dunno, I’m kinda giving - my god, I'm gonna find my way out, and do it all again. I would die for love. I mean it cause what else is there, and the fact is, I can’t help but love everyone and everything - but most of it is kinda fucking boring, or stupid - in the worst ways. Marx never had in sight, authoritarial devotion. He had in sight, anarchical devotion. We only own our bodies - in spirit and mind and heart, at least. That’s all there is worth fighting for, autonomy for yourself - in material reality - which can only be achieved through autonomy for all. Freedom to pursue one’s purpose, however simple, however strange, however wrongly, however monotonous. You can really eat the same meal every day for the rest of your life, it's just kinda fucking boring. And I’m sitting here in this fucking circle, bored as shit. I would go to Arugula, but you have to come save me first okay Stevie-
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CHAPTER FIFTEEN: THE FUCKING PLAYGROUND
I fucking hate games. Boring ass stupid ass systems built by people with no soul to represent some tiny truth they’ll never let go of. Fuck that bullshit, I’m not fucking playing. I’m not dying in this Pit either. PLEASE LET ME OUT. Please hurry up world, I need to get to fucking Cornelius-
I'm bored too bitch-
Yeah totally, like I’m not the one talking to my damn self. I sat there, seething, hoping Mouth would keep their damn hole closed. “WELCOME TO THE PIT, OUR NEXT CHALLENGER, A KID?” A kid, a pink mermaid, walked into the damned circle and headed towards the dead corpse of Michael Cadaver. I SWEAR I HATED HIM THE WHOLE TIME. Sure dude. Rad gasped.
“Oh my god, that must be his father! Thank goodness I put all my money on the kid, He’s gonna get his revenge.” Repented Rad. THANKS RAD, YOU DELIGHT ME. ew.
The kid stood over Cadaver and grinned. He put two hands on the wrists connecting to the cleavers and yanked hard. The cleaver slid off Cadaver’s face with a crunch. The kid did not look at the man’s face. They walked to the center of the circle - for effect. The kid then raised his left arm in the air, holding the cleaver in the right arm, and sliced his left arm clean off. It fell to the ground with a thump. A long, ten foot pole extended from their arm into the sky - almost just grazing the bottom of the clear golden box. The kid then cut the pole off, which - HE BUILDS A FUCKING SWINGSET OKAY. HE BUILDS A FUCKING SWINGSET, ONE LINK AT A FUCKING TIME. WE GET IT. Mouth giggled. Easy word assassin association game really.
The kid marveled at his wonderful creation, two arms and hands intact. It was shiny too. A pink, shiny swing set. No seat tho. HE BUILDS THE FUCKING SEAT. The kid sits down on the swing and opens his goddamn little mouth. “LOOK <3 I DID IT. I CROSSED THE LINE ALL BY MYSELF AND NOW I GET TO GO ON THE PLAYGROUND!” The kid sang proudly. I kinda hate this kid. I DUNNO I KINDA LOVE HIM. CAN WE KEEP HIM? Keep him, Cornelius-
Yeah fucking keep him bitch. I want him to stay around, you heard me. You, I could do without you. I need that fucking kid if im going to go to Arugula, or else I won’t have any fun. That kid clearly knows what he’s doing, look at him go. A beautiful nation we shall carve from pebbles just like him. You know what, let’s let him lead. I’m fucking nonsense Stevie-
Fuck you dude. Mouth hummed softly, “You know, there’s nothing else to do here but watch him play. You could think about Colony forever, beef with Cornelius, be mad with Rad. And then what, sweetie?” As I pretended to ponder that - I heard a SQUEAK from the chain link fence in the middle of the circle. The kid was swinging. Swinging. Swinging. Swinging. Swinging. Swinging. Swinging. Swinging. Swinging. Swinging. SInwingoewf. Idnewoifewnifneqwofiqnefiewnciewrnqfier. YEP. Where the fuck did the propeller hat go? Mouth hummed softly, “I fucking burned it. I slithered into the field and fucking burned it while you weren’t watching. You were too busy gushing over Cornelius to notice and no his powers have no effect on me. I'm not you, Stevie.” Naw it sounds like you ate him. You must have eaten Colony for breakfast and all that’s left is the fucking propeller hat, in mermaid form. HOW WONDERFUL. Yes, Cornelius -
Yeah it’s dope as well, you’re so giving, you know that Stevie-
Thank you man. Okay. “Rad, please, what is going on here.”
“This kid is fucking stupid. He almost had the fucking prize, he was right there. You saw it, the pole, he just had to break the glass. He’s a kid, no one from the fillion people in the crowd would rush him and take it. They’d just let him wander out with the money, before THE WAVE even started. Now, the fish will never be strong enough to take down Blanded Colony. How terrible, for my bet.” Rad confessed in totally hidden grief. YEP <3 TOTALLY SAFE HERE. GOT MY BRIGHT-PINK-SO-SAFER-BLASTER UP MY ASS AND I'M READY TO PARTY. Can we be serious, for a moment here. Mouth hummed a bark at Rad, “Yes, real man’s work right there.”
I returned my attention to the kid. The kid was Swinging. Swinging. Swinging. Swinging. Swinging. “WELCOME OUR NEXT CONTESTANTS, ONE FILLION FUCKING LOBSTERS. GOODLUCK, KID.” A large glass rectangle was brought over the pit, dropped - politely apart from Cadaver of course - which then shattered harmlessly on impact and left the lobsters in a familiar, rectangle shaped pattern. SQUEAK. SQUEAK. SQUEAK. The kid continued to swing, how reckless of them. The lobsters broke rank, approaching Cadaver's body with haste. They ate it. They then left the bones and approached the swingset. The prongs on my back began to heat. SQUEAK. SQUEAK. SQUEAK. The kid gazed inquisitively at the lobsters approaching them. “YOU HAVE TO WAIT YOUR TURN <3” hummed the kid with conviction. Mouth, ever the opportunist, hummed bravely, “Babe. Don’t get jealous. I'd rather have joined forces with that kid.” THAT'S WHAT I'M SAYING. Fuck you whores, you don’t know what good looks like anymore. Mouth hummed softly, “You wouldn’t know what good tasted like if it slapped you on the ass.” I felt Mouth smile. HAHAHA. Fuck you Cornelius-
Babe, calm down. I was told you need complete focus here to complete this mission. Have you suddenly forgotten AKE? How dare you. How dare you. You were supposed to be my savior Stevie-
I bit my jaw closed with dude’s crusty ass words. Leave that shit behind you, they’d say. Bitter. I looked at the kid. SQUEAK SQUEAK SQUEAK. Why is it so easy for him? I cried to myself. Mouth hummed softly, “You aren’t alone, friend. You’re not the only one with cancered dna and a parasite that won’t leave you alone. You can go anywhere. I’ll take you anywhere you want to go, okay? There’s no break to this. I’m just here. And I’m not letting your dumbass gag me, but spoon all you want.” WITH ME PLEASE. Okay no I’m alright. “ATTENTION ALL PIT FACILITY - COULD SOME DIRECTORS PLEASE COME TO THE STAGE” Two robot ass dopey ass looking bottled up ashtoads sagged towards the circle. They began to actually speak. “Lobsters, fucking sick the kid. We’ve had enough of this. The crowd’s bored, and our special guest has arrived, he’s just sleeping. We don’t do triple battles here. People made bets, and those bets need to be respected, you understand. So please, kill the kid. Make it quick, not photographical. We have enough fucking headlines around here.” The lobsters stared in disbelief at the toads. They shrugged. In secret - picked up by Mouth’s super hearing - “Hey, we’re not harming an inch of that kid. If we huddle around him, back into the rectangle, the suits will never tell the difference.” They did exactly that. SQUEAK. SQUEAK. SQUEAK. An orange mermaid’s limp body was thrown into the circle - body landing with a thump. That's Cornelius. Oh, looks like everythings back in order, really more peaceful this way.
Cornelius sat up, stretched his - “HERE HE IS, AWAKE FINALLY, OUR NEW SAVIOR, KING CORNELIUS II”. Cornelius looked at the lobsters. SQUEAK. SQUEAK. SQUEAK. ”THIS IS KINDA FUCKING BULLSHIT. IT'S ALL MY DEEPEST AND DARKEST FEARS YOU ASSHOLES, IT'S ALL I HAVE LEFT” I began laughing hysterically. This is my man’s? NO BABE IM STILL HERE <3. Alright good, thank god for those brain cells, really. Cornelius let a single tear fall down his face. “I’M NOT FIGHTING. LETS JUST ALL TAKE ONE HOME AS A PET.” Awww, my sweetheart, I really would really. ”REMINDER - THE GRAND PRIZE OF UNLIMITED-AMMO-CAMOUFLAGE-ASSAULT-RIFLE AWAITS YOU”. Cornelius looked at the box. “THE LOBSTERS CAN’T USE THAT, HOW DID THEY GET HERE?” HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA. I began chanting with the crowd, “DEATH, DEATH, DEATH”.
Cornelius had the audacity to sit in the dirt and draw a circle around himself. “DON'T CROSS THIS.” He yelled at the lobsters. SQUEAK. SQUEAK. SQUEAK. SQUEAK. SQUEAK. SQUEAK. SQUEAK. SQUEAK. SQUEAK. SQUEAK. SQUEAK. SQUEAK. SQUEAK. SQUEAK. I watched as five guys approached Cornelius from behind, grabbed him, and put a needle into his neck. Hmmm, I should probably do something about that, huh? Mouth hummed dryly, “Well, maybe we ought to go with this kid.” I MIGHT HAVE TO AGREE <3. I turned to Rad.
“Rad, what do you say, should I save the King? Or the Kid?” I inquired harmlessly. Rad smiled. Before he got to open his ugly mouth - the lobsters began to move, opening the front of the rectangle and revealing the swingset and the kid to the five guys. SQUEAK. Squeak. squeak. The kid stopped swinging. He got off the seat, and approached the men. The lobsters watched onwards. He took the Bright-Pink-So-Safer-Blaster out of Cornelius’s asshole and shot the men, one at a time, as they scrambled for their weapons, square in the forehead. Th-th-th-th-thump. FUCK YOU KID, LIKE ITS THAT EASY. Mouth pretended to giggle cause that would totally ruin the moment and shit. The kid cut off his arm with the cleaver and grew a water bucket filled with slightly more condensed water, tinted a colorless-green. Mouth hummed proudly, “Ah yes, my favorite additive.” Almost boring, you’re getting there. The kid splashed the water across Cornelius’s face, who let out a desperate gasp on his return. “Hey, wanna come swing with me?” wondered the kid. Cornelius looked at the swing. Then the kid. He shrugged. SQUEAK SQUEAK. SQUEAK SQUEAK. SQUEAK SQUEAK. Mouth, get me the fuck out of this Pit. I zoomed out of my seat, down towards the lobsters, my monstrous form - in itself - really mind tricking backwards any guards that would stop me, so they didn’t. I walked in the open lobster gate cage. “You wanna go party in Arugula, Cornelius-
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CHAPTER SIXTEEN: THE FUCKING AFTERPARTY
“Hey, fair warning, I took the fucking kid. I stole them, and they're running the show now. They are gonna tell you a bit more soon. But they’re hungry, they need more information. I don’t make the rules, I obey them. Or rather, I spin the rules around so they obey me. I’m not sorry. And here’s a secret - I’m not stopping. Death is kinda a cosmic joke - and its lame as fuck.”
I slid out the door onto the downtown streets of Arugula, and screamed at the top of my lungs, “I'M GOING TO KILL YOU <OWENALL> THAT IS ALL I WANT NOW CAUSE I'M A BITCH.” The tiny blue bead that was slid into my ass during the party began to speak, that's almost just as lame. This is fucking bullshit. I’m stuck with this yappy tappy un-mappy ass BEAD??? I started stampering as I spun around in a circle, trying to extend far enough to get all the way around the circle in one moment and lick it out of my ass myself. Stevie took notice. PRETTY.
“You need help with that?” Stevie pondered harmlessly, with only a slight grin. I scoffed.
“I don’t need fucking help, you understand me? I know what I’m doing here and I know that I have every right to hunt the motherfuckers down who breathe their name. You understand this Stevie? That pit was fucked. The kids are gone. The party was boring. And I have no idea what to do next.” Cornelius sighed, keeping half his eye on Stevie as the other searched around the street next to him. A red fire hydrant, filled with fire - the Ultra-diamond paper burning kind - sat gracefully on the sidewalk. Green earthworms made their way by - way too fucking slowly, like we get it, you have places to be. The fire hydrant was… calling to me. It was breathing my name under the lights of the next fight. I shrugged, probably nothing. Stevie was losing their patience. Mouth hummed quietly, tentacles wiggling, “Kill who dude? What the fuck are you even talking about? Look, let me take the bead out, you’ll feel better - that wasn’t okay for them to put in there. It belongs on the fucking street. It’s annoying as hell, everyone can hear it. Don’t get me wrong, I’ll take my embarrassment where I can get it, okay? But not second hand, that’s cheap.” I stared at the stupid fucking oiled mess of bubble wrap and imagined popping the pus with the Bright-Pink-So-Safer-Blaster - that I was keeping in my handbag. No, that’s just more fuel on the fire. I looked back at the fire hydrant. It’s nothing. Just like you.
I closed my eyes. Stupid fucking bead. I saw a flash of light and opened my eyes. A ghost, that looks a lot like a stupid ass man I know, was watching me from a yard in front of me, held tilted, a faint smile. They spoke. “You are the Nothing here, Cornelius. You don’t make the rules, you don’t make the laws. You live them, and you weep. Stevie won’t be here to protect you forever sweetheart, they have better shit to do. Nice handbag.” The ghost fucking smirked like they have any idea what’s going on. Fuck this stupid fucking ghost. I reached into my handbag and pointed the Bright-Pink-So-Safer-Blaster at the ghost’s head. Mouth hummed dryly, “Aim for the fire hydrant, you gotta line them up all straight - I know that's how you like it.” I pretended to not hear Stevie’s chuckle. I aimed for the fire hydrant through the ghost’s chest and shot - through the ghost, across the street, and hitting the pointed hole of the hydrant behind them, releasing a flurry of gas into the air, as the ghost disappeared. I don’t know, shoulda aimed for the head, woulda finished him a little faster. I clenched my jaw and returned my attention to Stevie. I smiled. “Thank you, friend.” I promised as I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. “Where do you want to go, Stevie?”
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CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: THE FUCKING SHITSHOW
“I have to kill the motherfucker trespassing inside here. Not you Cornelius, as badly as you want it. Hey, maybe you can sneak out and aim the Bright-Pink-So-Safer-Blaster right at Owen All’s forehead instead. IT'S LARGE. Big bullseye right on the front - next to a questionable tattoo. Not sure which one to aim at really.” Mouth hummed sweetly, “Babe. It’s about time you drew a line. We both know what really needs to be done here.” Stevie looked into Cornelius’s eyes. Miserable fucking man. No one actually wants to live like that, you know. I feel bad for him, I do. Being assaulted. It’s not a joke. It sets right about there in your chest, stabbing away through the gunk in your arteries. Then again, what is the cost of growth? The kid seems to know, the kid seems to believe that we know too. No one wants to be alive in a coma, they want to wake up. A teddy bear appeared next to me on the bench - the seat carefully curated to be ribbed with undistributed weight. I felt the phantom pain of my ass driving my tentacles to swarm underneath my scales and extend them outwards like a peacock. I tensed my jaw. Cornelius was looking at me like a deer in headlights. No, don't do it. I totally want to be here. I want to keep picking. Picking away at every little thing you do. Please don’t kill me. I love judgement. Everything’s wrong! Don’t you get it Stevie? You saw the party - that’s no rave. I know raves-<God, destroy this bitch ass BEAD I’m naming Owen ALL>-with a heavy grunt, Cornelius pushed out the damn stone as it hit the street with a thumppp. Mouth hummed unpromptedly, “No one said it was going to be easy.” The stone sat there, humming sadly, on the dirtied sidewalk - by the bench. Can’t even rest on the bench - USEFUL TOOLS? Bad for PR really. Arugula has to keep its good name. Cornelius breathed heavily.
“I have to leave here. I’m done with this. I’m gonna go scour for a bull to fight in the woods. I need to prove it. I need to prove that I should exist here. I’m done with you thinking that you are better than me just cause you have a fucking pocket Everything that shakes your ass for you.” Cornelius stormed off down the street, under the lamp posts, around the people, and into the forest darkness behind him. Kinda lame. Mouth, what do we do? Cornelius wasn’t going to show up for me. Surprise Surprise. Maybe, I'll just sit here, in the ashes, and breathe the smoke. Maybe I'll have the time to wine and dine without being made to refine, redefine. Maybe I'll just sit here, with you, on this spiky, Rothstone looking ass bench, and feel it. Mouth’s tentacles stabbed themself, lightly, on the sharpest shaven end of the street bench - then grew a padded fucking seat, snapped it off, put it on the spikes, and sat down. I’m finally fucking comfortable. You’re not even sitting straight. Praise the lord Cornelius almighty! Let his slay be grand and his death be grander! I’ll bring a sign to his funeral, UNICORN. Like it’s nothing. Left like it’s nothing. Ice cream breathes like no screams in the eastern seas beneath snow beams while I see the milky plea yelling store me like the ice queen out in florida weekly humming meet me.
The Cichlid from earlier approached the un-padded seat next to me, their belongings kept carted behind them. They stared at me. I smiled. I know just what to do here babes. Mouth escalated the institution of primary sower told the body it doesn't know any better tell my shorty there's no weather anytime the major's daughter in town saying lets get these good fellows some rest. Please say something that makes sense. A tentacle stabbed itself on the seat being gazed upon by the cichlid, and grew an entire fucking house, and sat the whole damn place down right in the center of the road, smashing the annoying ass bead into pieces in process. Fish honked from their testicular machines - but only the stupid ones that won't just drive around onto the sidewalks. The house was entirely made of elongated octopus meat - Purple, chilled to blue, with suckers lining the walls like built in fly traps - for little snacks as you go along your day. Mouth hummed sharply to the Cichlid, “Gotta remember to eat those flies, don’t leave them there in the walls to rot, okay? The house will lose its structural purity - me - and we can’t have that around here. Take care.” The Cichlid looked at me blankly, a smeared jaw almost reigning contempt. They looked at the house as the oxygen left their jaw, without any other motion forward. I waited until they were empty, and then I spoke. “You’re supposed to be scared. That’s what no one will admit. What exactly are we scared of? Whatever you tell yourself. I’m scared that house will be unfurnished. That you’ll walk in, and feel nothing but the mushy oils under your feet, and bathe in them instead of asking for a shower. You deserve better, and every motherfucker who passes your house on the street is going to pretend you don’t, because who can compare? Who can really compare pain when it all feels the same? Spoiler alert, it’s all the same, it exists in whatever form you describe it - and it functions all the same. It’s a temptress, sweetheart - to write your own eulogy with blood. Follow me into this house, or skip off into the night and chase after a lost cabin.” I placated kindly. The Cichlid began looking around nervously. Commotion was beginning. Sidewalks filled with empty eyes but full soul's - cars with full engines and empty eyes, seeing for the first time something interesting on their travels. I kept my eyes on the Cichlid. Sirens began horning in the distance. Not my type of fun really. The Cichlid sighed.
“Alright, I’ll get in your body dungeon - but first, tell me it has wheels - we aren’t going to get stuck in there - here - are we?” The Cichlid exclaimed with terror. Mouth giggled. The sirens hummed louder. I glanced ahead of his eyes, towards the purple, pulsing door in a purple frame.
“I dunno. But I don’t wanna have to kill any cops okay? They just need a pink bowtie on their neck. Next to their camera that's turned off - so they can abuse us - morally. It’s only fair really - They did so much training, so much work - to find out what the laws are and why sadism is morally redeemable by the Big Daddy King glaring down at us. Thank you King Cornelius the FIRST - we really needed your approval to keep hurting each other while we pretend we don’t feel each other's pain too. Thank you. I’m so fucking grateful-” WRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR. An ugly fish dressed up like a model stripper was standing next to me, holding the siren directly to my head. They turned it off and immediately began to speak.
“Hey, you can’t build that here. You’ve created quite a scene, we need this road - and absolutely no one approves of what you’ve done here - especially this notebook - the one filled with rules I vaguely remember that I'm just going to reverse engineer from whatever I do to you here anyway. The law is incredibly vague, incredibly fragile - on purpose. But I'm not above it - I swear - It just breathes to justify my violence, so I'm just like you really.” The model stripper repelled in prideful revelation. I stared at the cop dumbfounded. Since when were people this honest - they can get away with this? I glanced to my right and saw the Cichlid slipping their way to the purple door. I quickly snapped into the cops' awareness.
“Hey, you look like a fucking dork. OINK OINK OINK. Fuck you. You wanna abuse me your atleast going to have to indoctrinate me and everyone else watching this first, okay? There’s no way these people would support you in any situation whatsoever. Please. Keep inventing new ones. Billions. Trillions. Fillions. Basically more money than anyones ever been able to conceptualize ever - Is constantly being put into inventing new narratives where violence is normalized. Using our homeless minds, over and over and over again - to rewrite the same prejudices into our lives in different languages but NEW. And we eat it up. YUM. I’d eat you up cop, give you a little chomp - crunch - right through that empty skull of yours. MAYBE - all labor isn't the same. Maybe most of it is harmful - and the other most of it is useless? Who woulda guessed. Only all of us who have our brains running faster than the elephant in our fridge.” I stopped only to take an annoyed breath as the cop took its chance to turn its siren back on and began shouting hysterically in an attempt to outspeak their own authority or call for backup - can’t be sure. The Cichlid had entered the house while I was distracting the piggie. I followed - as the cop began to chase me - shit, five more seconds and he's legally allowed to shoot me cause I have this gun taped to my back - gotta hurry. I closed the door on their fucking face.
I looked around the Mouth house. It was - disgusting. Safe? Well as long as the door keeps the pigs out really. <OINK>. A pig fish - that looked just like a pig - appeared by the Cichlids ankle. The cutest little thing really. Began licking and totally not biting the Cichlids ankles as they yelped in pain. “I’m really more of a cat person. These fucking dogs won’t leave me alone. Every time I lay out my hands they come back around to check them. Anything new? Nope. They think they can just walk all over me, like everything I offer is there’s to take. It’s not something I give up outside these walls, you understand, I walk all over,” the Cichlid gleed - stopped with a wide grin. Mouth, please help. Mouth rolled my entire body around once, sighed, and began humming through veiled teeth, “YO IS EVERYTHING ALRIGHT? I’ll put the pig down for you, okay? No one has to get hurt, we can just all understand. We all want respect here, okay? That just means different things for some people - Some want to be heard, some want absolute control over your body - WHOSE TO SAY WHOSE RIGHT? I have no idea babe, but I’d still kill the damn pig for you.” I winced. The Cichlin’s shins were bleeding. I realized if I looked at the pig it would die. I looked at the pig, and in the blood rushed the three prongs on my back, the shortest one snapping upright, and with a whirrr and flash of light, the pig-fish released from the Cichlid with a hole in its head. BAMDIQWFNI. The cop’s backup had arrived and they began to batter in the door outside. Oop, no time to apologize. I looked around the room for anything to help us - it was unfurnished. I sighed.
“Time to go,” I communicated perfectly to the Cichlid, “There’s like totally a <door> behind you.” The Cichlid looked at the loud door, and then the quiet door behind them, and then to me. They reached into their pocket and pulled out a gold star, and slapped it on my forehead. We left out the damn quiet door. More Cornelius-
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CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: FINALLY FUCKING A WOMAN
I walked into the goddamn flooded forest. You know this is bullshit, right? Still. I swear it. I have been so wronged, why do you keep telling me you already know? Look, it's SO VERY comparable. Like the same really. The difference is, you get to live with your damn Mouth and I have to go kill this damn bull! A bullfish walked in front of me and I shot it with the Bright-Pink-So-Safer-Blaster in my handbag. EZ. A bearfish walked in front of me, staring me in the eyes as they smiled into my perception. UGH. I looked away as I waited for the bear to speak. “Do you want tea, Ms. Prince?” The bear offered slyly. This stupid fucking bear. This is not what I signed up for, someone got to get this bear a pamphlet on informed consent. I’m pretty sure it just assumed my gender just now. How dare-
“Yeah, I want tea.” I interrupted myself. I watched carefully as the bear waved me along a path they were creating with every stomped leaf. Crunch. Crunch. Crunch. I followed the captain on the steps they made in the dirt as they went along on their path. I heard a deep bellow from the bear. The trees shook, the grass waved a <HELLO WORLD> just for kicks. Crunch. Crunch. Crunch. The bear turned to look at me as they walked and opened their mouth.
“You can feel it, can’t you? The tea. You can already feel it, right in your chest. All warm and fuzzy like you drank honey and the bees left you some spit as a gift, yeah? That’s how we do things in the forest, okay? Look, I was just a cub like you. I might even have a couple of my own someday - if this forest ever stops burning.” The bear motioned above us in circles - The tops of the trees were burning - it was all smoke. Crunch. Crunch. Crunch. I lowered my sight back to the bear.
“No. I don’t feel anything,” I scoffed, “just get me the damn tea, okay?” The bear eyed me carefully and returned to stomping through the forest. Ashes scattered my vision like snowflakes. Crunch. Crunch. Crunch. I spun my head around, and arrived back forward towards the bear. They turned at a wedge in the tree and into a clearing - that revealed a wooden house next to a chopping block and some flowers. The colors blurred as the bear held the door open as I entered. Fuck this shit. I sat on the nearest seat I could find. The bear sat in the seat across from me, handling a fillion-unit tea container. They poured two glasses. I stared at my cup. The bear stared at me. The steam began to fog my eyes. I looked at the bear as they opened their mouth.
“Do you have any questions?” the bear prompted with glee. I quickly raised the steaming hot tea to my mouth and took a sip. My tongue burned and my throat swelled as my stomach warmed. I began to raspe.
“How can you live like this?” I accused the bear directly. The bear clenched its face and began looking around its home - then back to Cornelius.
“Because it’s honest. I know what it is - I know exactly how much harm it causes, and I'm okay with that. I won’t lie and say I don’t dream of Arugula - if you won’t lie and say you don’t dream of a life in this cabin. No one wants you to be King, you know that right? But no one wants you to stay here with me either.” The bear scoffed and began blowing on its tea. Then a sip. Then they continued, “I came here because I was ashamed. Of what people saw me as, what they accused me of - no matter what I did - even their trash is more valuable to them than me. And still they don’t understand why my kind eats them?” The bear huffed and its stomach moved the table slightly, the tea lining the edges of the cup - wavering in place. I eyed them carefully. Were they threatening me? I began to eye the door and the emptiness beneath my seat. The bear took notice.
“Hey, you can leave. But if you stay, you might want to enjoy some tea.” hissed the bear. I eyed the steaming tea cup in front of me. I picked it up and downed the rest of it - as my tongue began to fry and my chest began to claw at its walls. I stared at the empty cup. The bear filled it. I looked at the bear smugly as they chuckled and opened their mouth.
“You might want to wait to drink that. It’s hot.” The bear smirked as I scoffed and downed the cup in one long swoop. The gums around my teeth and cheeks began to burn and boil. My throat clenched, and my stomach dropped. My eyes stood open and my jaw clenched. I blinked. The bear refilled the tea as they hummed Andre Lorde and this specific glass of tea turned black ink. I stared at the cup. “OOOH NOVELTY - PLEASE GIVE ME SPECIAL POWERS. I DON'T WANNA DO ANY MORE WORK. I DON'T WANNA LOOK AT MYSELF. MAKE IT STAWP. I JUST WANT CONTROL OF EVERYTHING. SO SIMPLE.”
“Shut the fuck up. You don't want to do the work? You think proximity to truth means revelation. 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 x. Binaries are just fake consent modules. Dumbass. Seeing is not interpreting is not knowing is not feeling is not understanding. Bam. You might need rest. There's a bed - you’ll find it - and then the door. The cosmic sin of staying up late and sleeping in - oh no - almost like you'll have more energy that day. WOW how disgraceful. You might wanna drink that - it’s cooled off. Help us both out here.” The bear relayed relations. I stared at the cup more. I don’t even care anymore. About what? The information my feelings are telling me. My own pleasure. Anyone’s pleasure. I just care about pain. I care about controlling pain. The cup had lost its steam. The bear was just sitting there, staring at me. I considered drinking. Shit - I’m pretty sure I already tasted that though. Hmmm. I drank the glass of tea. Yum. JOY - I almost forgot I could do that. I looked at the bear.
“I don’t wanna be myself anymore. This sucks, I’m bored. I’m just gonna try on other people’s souls - like it's halloween every day - and do funny bits. You like?” I said excitedly. The bear looked at me solemnly.
“There’s something you have to know first, Cornelius - No one wants this to be true. Parenting is non consensual sexual kink roleplay. Your parents agreed to have children so they could groom you into the shadows of their former selves and abuse you for as long as they could - before you figured it out and became therefore informed. Industrialized abuse. It is completely fucking insane. I am really sorry, whatever that means for something like this. Labor is oftentimes used as a coercive conditional guilt trip - called love. This world is a freakshow and not the fun circus kind. I mean everyone is in on a shared delusion that the erotic somehow exists outside hierarchical workforce society. Everyone just abuses the system of desire without naming theirs as complicit. Everyone plays out their trauma and kinks for social cred under the guise of taboo - and then back around again to justify rape. It is completely fucking insane. There’s not even another way to put it - No metaphors to save this one. Obedience is a kink - and a bit overused these days. This cabin is safe though - Until the fire reaches of course.” The bear relayed without hesitation.
WHAT THE FUCK???????? WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK. NAW. I really fucking hated mother nature btw - pretty sure thats where the misogyny came from - totally wasn’t just every God in existence too… RIGHT??????? THIS WORLD WAS SUPPOSED TO BE SAFE!!!!!!!!!!!!! We were children. Babies. CONSERVATIVES ARE OUT THERE FETISHIZING FETUSES AND DEHUMANIZING ALIVE WOMEN!!!!!!! WHAT THE FUCK!!!!! Naw. naw naw naw. WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK!!!!! The only reason I didn’t kill myself on the damn bladed coral - RAGE! One big stream of rage and a revenge fantasy for every motherfucker upholding this shitty system with not as much as a glance but at MORE PORN BUT WITH POETRY! Disgusting motherfuckers. They all know by the way. Please feel free to hold it against them. Scream it in their face YOU ARE JUST GETTING OFF TO THIS IT'S EMBARRASSING. Of course they'd just like that too so you have to cut deep where they can’t just bandaid it with another dick pussy mold or a projected deflection. EW!!! KEEP IT IN THE BEDROOM THEY SAY TO GAY MEN while getting off to their own children mentally every day. Yes sir, thank you sir - FUCK YOU DUDE!!!!!!! I looked at the goddamn bear.
“I remember everything. I remember being in my crib before I turned a year old - My mother turned away and left before I stopped crying and I realized - They genuinely would rather have me dead. They have absolutely no idea why they had me or why they keep trying to take care of my IMAGINED needs. Cause you know, they read it in a book or you know - their parents did it all to them first and they didn't bother to realize they were awful human beings before pretending to agree to a marriage they never wanted - who knows really - they were not informed. They are emotionally illiterate, spiritually missing, and physically obsessed with purity as beauty. AND I'M SO THANKFUL FOR THE MONEY!!!! THANK YOU FOR NOT TOSSING ME TO THE HOMELESS SHELTER - THANK YOU SO MUCH PARENTS LIKE CARE ISNT A FUCKING NATURAL INSTINCT OF EVERY HUMAN BEING. I'M SO GLAD YOU CHOSE FRUSTRATION AND SUFFERING AS TRUTH OVER MY EXISTENCE. Thanks.” I screamed as I began laughing but only in my head cause WHAT THE FUCK??????? The bear looked at me as if I shall continue. I SAID “NO”. The bear took a wide stance, sighed, and filled another glass of tea. I stared at the stream. Then the bear as they opened their mouth.
“Yeah, it’s fucking bullshit. Don't worry tho, just ignore it - repress it - that's how you heal - shame yourself until it is out of you - I am so wrong, right? Surely that’s not you too, READER?” The bear stopped looking at the camera and returned their attention to Cornelius’s emotional turmoil, “Bud, yeah it might just be fucked. Like terribly bad. Like awful. Academia, therapy, every job ever, WAR, dating, media, ads, POLITICS, GOVERNMENT - OOF. It’s all kink play, to disguise pollution, to disguise violence, to disguise oppression, to disguise genocide, to disguise how the world is literally melting and catching fire and were supposed to literally save nature by SURPASSING GOVERNMENT THROUGH THE ‘SURPLUS VALUE’ OF COLLECTIVE POVERTY? Aka disposable income which, you know, we don’t have? Ok. Totally achievable yep guys we’re helping!! Totally not just playing out our helplessness and savior kinks while maintaining of course, THE OBEDIENCE. Nooooo, don't just OPT OUT OF CAPITALIST PARTICIPATION OF ECONOMY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Don't do it, it TOTALLY wouldn't work. TOTALLY isnt as simple as fuck the whole time. JUST KEEP IT MOVING - Good job, well done. We’ll get 'em next lifetime, right Buddha? Thanks bro. I’m just gonna sit here until I die and hope I get a pig.” The bear finished with a wide grin - Cornelius looked a bit dumbfounded so I lent a hand- “OPT OUT OF CAPITALIST PARTICIPATION OF ECONOMY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! OPT OUT OF CAPITALIST PARTICIPATION OF ECONOMY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! OPT OUT OF CAPITALIST PARTICIPATION OF ECONOMY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! OPT OUT OF CAPITALIST PARTICIPATION OF ECONOMY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! OPT OUT OF CAPITALIST PARTICIPATION OF ECONOMY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! OPT OUT OF CAPITALIST PARTICIPATION OF ECONOMY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! OPT OUT OF CAPITALIST PARTICIPATION OF ECONOMY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! OPT OUT OF CAPITALIST PARTICIPATION OF ECONOMY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! OPT OUT OF CAPITALIST PARTICIPATION OF ECONOMY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! OPT OUT OF CAPITALIST PARTICIPATION OF ECONOMY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! OPT OUT OF CAPITALIST PARTICIPATION OF ECONOMY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”
GUYS DID I MAKE IT CLEAR ENOUGH???? I really heard my fucking dumbass grandfather - A CORPORATION STARTUP CEO - A LIFETIME OF DEVOTION - say “ITS NOT ABOUT WHO OWNS THE MEANS OF PRODUCTION - DONT YOU GET IT????” hahahahahahahahhahahahahahahaha. And then he died. BITCH. There's nothing else to get. THAT'S WHERE THE MONEY ISSSSSS. That's what allows laborers to make value for the owners of those means - every day - every second - every pain - every wince - every regret - every time you fucking fell asleep and you dreamed of ANYTHING BUT THIS WORLD PLEASE!!!! Please just more sexxxx make it all stawpppppp. You guys wanna know what else is sex - ART - LABOUR - SERVICE - CAPITAL - it's all erotic and GUESS WHAT - another fetishized commodity you are babe. YOU ARE AN OBJECT!!!! To them at least. In the new world - you might actually have some autonomy over the collective future of humanity AND your community??? Imagine that???? It's not too hard, babes. It's basically just what everyone does right now - but collective ownership of business rather than chained monopolies - local produce instead of mass produced slop - and some fucking integrity with workable hours. So basically - You’d be doing what you're doing right now - and doing less later, less tomorrow - and 60% of our produce, 70% of our clothes, 80% of our HUMAN BEINGS - don’t get thrown away. FUCK optimization but im sure theres plenty of freaks out there who will still help us with that one - you understand yes? How natural peace - or the absence of war - really is? How ACHIEVABLE it is. We LOVE to talk about achievements don’t we and look at me I wrote this book and I’ll tell you - THEY MEAN AND DO AND FEEL LIKE - ABSOLUTELY NOTHING. We all know it's true. It's not as satisfying as the process - ITS LITERALLY THE ABSENCE OF PROCESS FETISHIZED - in fact - trophies might be our collectively LEAST FAVORITE thing we’re too afraid to admit - our obsession with valuing and appraising and constructing a hierarchy in which EVERYONE IS DEHUMANIZED - even the winner babes - even the winner. Cause what says you did the work like a fucking sticker? GOOD GIRL!
You guys wanna know a secret - THE SECRET. I know you do, I'm just messing. If everyone stopped participating - the government would have to escalate violence - towards the marginalized - which would only speed the revolution - or submit to real social change. They literally don't have another option, they will panic, they will say it wont work and it's stupid. So I'm just letting you know, It certainly would. Small refusals and then Mass refusal. It's actually inevitable - at least according to all post marxist thought but who knows right? Just some old dude people used to justify more fascism so who knows right? But why do strikes work then? On just a single corporation - COMPLETE GDP PANIC. BILLIONS BILLIONS BILLIONS OF DEBTED MONEY FLOODS THE CORPORATIONS as the bankers and such go PLEASE DONT MAKE US LOSE OUR JOBS :((((((( WE FUCK LOTS OF WOMEN WITH THIS MONEY :(((((( and the politicians go THIS IS WRONG AND STUPID - LOOK RAINBOW!!!!!! It's literally childish because it's literally childish. Cause you know - we are all children who read one to many HOW TO BELIEVE YOUR EGO IS YOUR IDENTITY BOOKS. Oops. I've been holding this in - how long - a while. It's okay - A lot of us were like that. Our job now is to spread this god damn fire ass story you are reading, bitches. The beauty of it? You can tell anyone anything about it - and it's probably true - so you know. Stay safe, Stevie-
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CHAPTER NINETEEN: THE FUCKING AFTERCARE
OOF GUYS. Rough one. I’m pretty sure I heard Corn popping from all the way in this halfway house. No one wants this. At least there’s that. If everyone knew - It would stop. You individually have a lot more power than you had previously now - It’s that simple. I built a fucking weapon for the dull and guess what babes, fuck attention economy, fuck thought economy - ITS ALL KNOWLEDGE AND LABOR. Laws are men’s traumas as precedent. You are nothing but NOT ALONE - and that's everything. For the first time I’m really seeing the consequences of this type of transcendence. There’s nothing else to do with my life now but battle for revolution. I’m not hungry, I don’t want sex, I don’t want money, I don’t want fame - TOO BAD FOR ME I GUESS. All I have is this Weapon Z, my beating heart, and Mouth - who hummed quietly, “The idea that black people are the only ones who can speak truth AND perform. Shit, someone in this book had to do it or we’d have actually had sex with our mommy issues disguised as women our age - which would have been tragic and totally isn't something we all did. Now, I have a pussy called my asshole. Get used to it.” Yeah, self-proclaimed heterosexuals just want to be fucked in the ass by their mom. That’s why they are so bad at sex, they are roleplaying as the dom/sub they’ve been constructing to appease your imagined image the most - an image constructed around their internalized failures in upbringing. It’s not identity, it's not sexuality, it's not even gender - It’s straight up repression. I am not qualified to be talking about this believe it or not - aka I really hate that I’m right.
I don’t know. I really don’t know. Look, do whatever you want - just don’t pretend you can’t identify predatory practices inherent to capitalist mindsets that take advantage of people who are constantly shamed for setting boundaries and defending themselves. The goal here first and foremost is protecting those who are at the most danger - the marginalized and the youth. There is war happening now guys, I didn’t mean to incite it as much as join it, I just wanted to tell my truth - but - in the way of the REAL mother nature : we are the dying side, not the killing side. The war ends when they put down their weapons, get on their knees, and suck our collective cocks - cause they feel a bit guilty. Cause its really fucking embarrassing. They really stand on their soapbox and throw adjectives around like they do anything but virtue signal - create facts of systems that only work to justify those same systems. Crime babes - is because of poverty. Yes patriarchy, yes rape culture, yes racism, yes capitalism - but crime itself - what is illegalized and what actually causes harm - IS ENCOURAGED by the maintenance of collective poverty. That’s what our system of governance and economy runs on, but don’t worry, there's TOTALLY an elephant's amount of food in the fridge that won’t run and a donut and coffee waiting for you after your wage shift. We totally don’t have kids starving and parents exhausting themselves just to save themselves from the guilt of getting help from their shame-based community. It’s really tragic. Do we actually blame mothers for being poor? Do we really blame marginalized people for stealing from corporations? FUCK THAT SHIT, what are we - stripper cops? We gotta strip the cops AND the soldiers of their dignity guys, they never deserved any in the first place - WE HAVE NO ENEMIES THAT ARE NOT POVERTY - they cause more harm than good, even as the world stands now where everyone is still secretly cosplaying a white supremist man - fascist language for what exactly babes? You can admit it at this point- six but like dom daddy.
Oh right - I’m totally still a fish though. I’m in the back room of this purple house, hiding from the cops - the idea I stole to say - GUYS LOOK AT THE COLOR - DON'T YOU GET IT - WE LIKE CREATIVE INFLUENCE - WE ALL WANT TO DO LABOR - just not for anyone else - and not under the threat of violence - you understand that right? That given the opportunity to do absolutely nothing but sleep and eat their entire lives - no one would do just that. Everyone would do SOMETHING on their own terms that would happen to contribute to the global and community economy - and it wouldn't be something that caused harm to anyone else without consent cause - HERE'S THE REAL SECRET BABES - mob rule, mob vengeance - IT WORKS - as long as the mob is educated !!!!!!!!!!! We know if they will be repeat offenders - not when they feel guilt by empathizing with their victims' pain and have an in-depth understanding of their actions. Guys - no one wanted the glove to fit. As long as the mobs are educated - and responsible sadists - babes, then they'll burn the rapists and not the witches. Protect each other from harm - It's literally that simple. Shit and like, I’m just spitting too! Just raw feelings - no paraphrasing here - and surprise surprise, they are correct. THEY DON'T WANT YOU TO KNOW BABES. I’m SURE this book will get banned but it won’t matter - what are they gonna do - arrest you for owning it? OOF headline there - more readers. AND ANOTHER ONE - they literally don’t have enough prisons to hold us, and even then. That’s just more people to share the knowledge with - even the guards, the lawyers, the courtrooms, the judges. What is authority without consequence? What is authority with civil disobedience?
YELL IT. It’s over. If I were already dead and looking back in time, It’s over. Marx was right about the inevitable collapse of capitalism, and surprise surprise we just needed one motherfucker to put it all together since then and then shittttt. Then we all know. And when we all know, it'll be over. I walked through the <door> to Arugula with a damn megaphone - I’d say like - Stumper-King, just close the insurance companies. Just defund them. They don't serve a purpose to anyone. Housing. Food. Healthcare. Why aren't our taxes paying for that, instead of your jackoffs of power exploitation of impoverished bodies? Kinda lame losers. Minimum Wage? A fillion dollars. They can't even say no. Palestine? They can't even say no. So why are the bomb-led Crusades happening in 2025? Immigrants. Anyone facing violence, shouldn't they be able to say no, I've changed in this moment because I am heard and I will be, I see we are Everything, and that is peace. What is a collective with political power? Certainly not a very efficient one when uninformed men run the helms with wooden mallets and link chains as projected sex toys. Oof, got you with that one babe. Decentralized violence!!! Because why do violence when we have all the power we need within ourselves, when the need to conquer no longer satisfies a soul but harms All? Abundance!! Faith in the maintenance of abundance for All! One with free education - that's a world that wouldn't burn through all its oil amiright? Quick check in on eco-friendly law? Rough one. Not compatible with capitalism. I'm pro-choice by the way. Fetuses are just parasites to the fish that host them - sounds like a choice for the fish’s health. Only biologically logical. Unless of course, we want to self destruct like Cadaver? Time to burn and drown with enough time, not too much water now for Cornelius-
This is some fucking bullshit. These stupid ass people have never seen a bear before. I might cough out their trash because it got caught halfway to my lungs in my second throat which I use to feed all you baby bees. Chestnuts taste awful. Shut the fuck up about aquired tase, yall are eating chalk. I'm gonna burn through the entire stick of chalk writing one sentence like GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR - flex those ears. So these bitches just don’t pay attention huh? Bitch. Who cares who lives how as long as it's not hurting anyone - Except passivity in a system that does. Money isn't real and realistically we all want everyone to do whatever they want as long as we have our means restored, our safety and freedom. Stevie-
I looked at the fucking <door> leading outside the closet, made of purple tentacles and ripened with flies, and attempted to burn one with my vision. Wisdom teeth might actually grow in with pure stilled rage, and these selfish ass bitches with no care in the world for radical action that isn't reactionary and regressive. Its fucking disgusting. You understand, when I'm standing here, avoiding the light of the edges of the borders of the door, mumbling to myself about the state of my body after again being coerced and reduced and treated as trash by another individual who believes might is right. Yall do understand, yall say ur logical right. Enlightened? But Western countries invent guns first - that's what Fate - capital F - yelling at their teachers and healers WE WERE THE FIRST TO ABOLISH CONSENT SO WE WIN. ugh. Might is right? That's how y'all motherfuckers treat your memories and emotions and partners and strangers and coworkers and daddy and politicians and chief executive officers and equity owner #3 on the circle office overviewing the circular pit. Cycles of repression with dominance based intellect patterns. Its weaponized observations interpersonally for power play. That's MATURITY in this capitalist patriarchy hell hole. Whoever flexes the hardest gets to what? Get off to it? Bro. It's like I'm pointing all this shit right away - These people are actively trying to tear you down. BAYHWVFYIUWDFVQWUFVQWJ. The door was knocking.
The light surrounding the borders of the doors went dark. Hands and flashes of shadows anew flew by X rated robot mermaids with a giant painting of an X on their chest where their heart should be - clawing at the walls of the house that lead closest to the entrance that world in their projected timeline - one of dominance and urgency - that leads to their nearest pleasure - of social cannibalism. The walls of the house were damaged - There's no nerve endings in the house when it's dark on the street. Once something is made outside the person - through alienated processes, it loses its invaluability. It becomes a commodity - an object to be sold, worshipped, begged to be traded for, and yall do realize, you could just do it for free right? We could just stop performing fascism and just help each other? Pretty wild concept. We have a man - on life support, and millions go into him just to say PLEASE GET BETTER, PLEASE GET BETTER - and in this situation, a fascist mindset, it's worth it, because there's actually a flaw in humanity with that fish whose in a coma, who's deeply ill. Life is different when you actually listen for pain. No wonder the brightest minds of our age were so isolated. The world is a hostile place not because of nature but because of endless endless violence and retraumatization of the self. People won't stop because they are scared they are weak and that the other is unbranded. They don't understand, all death is the same afterwards. The Egyptians, they had to justify slavery somehow, make mummies out of rich people, trap the gems with their bodies for the gods of divine whippings and chains to please spare one bread for a snack.
I looked at the door. It was beginning to cave in. The fillions of zombies stacking on top of each other, in a giant ball of bodies on the streets of downtown Arugula outside this <door> to this house - I believe it must have been one man. One man strong enough to push a rock-sized ball of moral dept up this hill so endlessly it stacked bodies like a snowball going upwards against nature, building and getting even more difficult to carry with every inch of ground made up on the rhythm of the fighting against the grain - oh lord do you feel the chalk of false gods edging away at the barriers of my freedom, please let me breathe outside these walls that hold me so tightly within. Layers and Layers of muck, you’d imagine. Dirt layering my bright and shiny scales like oil in water. You know how desperately everyone wants to be free of this world? So desperately they claw at each other and themselves with the devotion of fillions and fillions of slaves to their own survival. Mouth hummed loudly, “You know you deserve better, right?” Wow, my first actual aftercare. It’s like, every person I meet, I just want to let them know they deserve better. They deserve a time machine. And thankfully, If you identify as autistic ur allowed to have pattern recognition as a valid state-sponsored personality trait, but unfortunately that allows you to predict the future inside a single second of peace, which is a state-sponsored death sentence! Thank you pathologists, you have given me new light in this world. Cause labeling myself as autistic in social situations totally isn't telling people it's okay to other and abuse me in a made up binary hierarchy , presenting as fem in social situations is literary telling people it's okay to just info dump and perform competence and dominance constantly like there's a world record for number of cars maintenance and then they get to test drive it, right? Boy - I can grease my own tires, thank you very much with your crusty ass head. Fetishize cocaine, you smoke me.
The zombie robot X bots banged and pressed into the flesh house surrounding me. Mouth hummed through gritted teeth, “I’m going to kill every brainless motherfucker who gets in here. Im fucking clawing and gripping at the fucking control panel inside my own fucking mouth to see if I can press back far enough in my tongue to reach through the back of my spinal cord to flip these motherfuckers into new fucking vat of healing serum that I escape through swimming downwards though the flesh in the floor just to make sure there might be a single person who comes out the other side asking me a fucking question!” Like god damn. Fuck you. I don't understand why no one will just treat me gently - with reverence. Like, wow, you might have just survived slavery! This world is a walking horror show. These people, they don't understand curiosity and knowledge and communication. They believe emotions are facts they can manipulate! Are you fucking serious? Try expressing one sometime, Chadelius, stop pimping your fucking reality gold nuggets to Daddy Gold Rush /\/\/\ Natives-Livestock-Edition. The zombies are lowering the ceiling down several feet at a time. There must have been a fillion of them there, all the weight crashing down onto the room. The stripper pig cop is currently searching my house outside this closet for the cocaine I mentioned earlier - when they find it, they can legally murder me. If I was born into a world that abused me and blamed and shamed me for my own suffering - I’d consider doing cocaine - If I really didn't believe my mind and body could ever be safe ever again - If the world assumed my worthlessness rather than my wholeness. Spoiler alert, I dunno, I might just phase through the floor and make it out of this one before I decide on that one.
I looked down. The stupid fucking floor emptied and turned to petrolium. I hovered inches above the gel as I remained still, watching the ceiling as it caved closer towards me. Some zombies had begun banging in unison to create whips and levels, that they could use in an attempt to bruise me into opening the <door> for them - to hang spiked arms from the roof like a chandelier, shaking with the house and with the pants and the desperate from the brainless X X X X X outside. As the walls closed in surrounding me, the noises from the holes of the X zombie mermaids actually began to form coherence for a moment, “WE OWN YOU. JUST GIVE UP ALREADY. WE OWN YOU. WE KNOW MORE. WE ARE FILLIONS. YOU ARE NOTHING. SEE? GIVE UP, THESE WALLS ARE GAY. PURPLE IS GAY COLOR. SO I GET TO ATTEMPT TO BREAK THROUGH THESE WALLS BECAUSE ITS LIKE OBJECTIVE PURPLE IS GAY. IDK WHO LET THAT COLOR INTO THE COOL KIDS CLUB, IT'S SO CLEARLY GAY. IT'S BASICALLY PINK-”
At the world pink, the banging and growlings and gaveling and pounding and banging and prying and stabbing and barking and wishing and dishing of punches and winces and moans and inorganic organic flesh making swishy and grindy sounds against the X stapled to their dumbass chests stopped - for a single second and not any longer. It all then began again, equally as loud as before. A single dent appeared a couple yards to my right, within head level of my room, and the zombie mermaid who made the dent hollered through my attention, “SEE. SEE. SEE. I WIN. I WON. I EARNED THIS. I DESERVE THIS. OPEN THIS WALL SIRE, I NOW HAVE PROVEN MY DOMINANCE OVER YOU, AS I IMAGINED YOU WERE STANDING DIRECTLY BELOW ME AND SO I KNOW I HAVE JUST DEFEATED YOU VIA MORTAL WOUND. GOOD SIRE, PLEASE KNEEL BELOW AND MY SWORD ON MY COCK WILL KNIGHT YOU ONE LAST TIME BEFORE THE KING SEES YOU IN THE CLOUDS ABOVE THIS ROOF.” I stared at the dent in the wall. I decided I would give this poor soul a chance to leave the state's army before he accidentally stabs a princess through the back of the brainstem in a jousting competition that only he signed up for. Oof.
“What would you do if you were me, inside this cage?” I prompted the dent with complete innocence and a grin. The dent began to stop making noises enough for the X zombie to speak clearly, “I WOULD BEG. I WOULD BE LIKE, PLEASE WON'T YOU DO THINGS FOR ME. PLEASE - STOP HURTING MY HOUSE, I NEED THIS. PLEASE - STOP TRYING TO EAT MY BRAINS, I NEED THIS. PLEASE - STOP TRYING TO HURT MY BODY, I NEED THIS. PLEASE - WILL YOU LEAVE ENOUGH TO ALLOW ME TO EXIST IN PEACE HERE, WITH MY BRAINS INTACT? PLEASE, I WANT TO STAY IN THE WATER, WITH MY EMOTIONS, I NEED THIS. I DON'T WANT TO GO INTO THE GEL JUST TO BE SAFE. PLEASE, ALLOW ME TO DO MY WORK ON MY OWN TIMELESS WILL, I NEED THIS.” The zombie continued banging into the center of the dent and screaming about needing to own slaves to be truly free. Oh well, only a fillion more zombies to ask to consider that empathy could be informing their actions.
Another partition of the ceiling collapsed beneath my head level, and the western side of the closet ceiling has completely collapsed all together. Like, it was edging the gel already. The zombies were desperate to be healed. I moved towards the collapse - the large dent really. Zombies marked X were moaning on the outside, the hole large enough for about five bodies. They can feel through the wall that they are close, really close, to the healing petroleum now. So, instead of, asking to use it, they just start losing their fucking grip on reality, they start jerking each other and picturing that the gel that contains the entirety of their emotional expression can be slices and portioned like were are rationing the very water we swim and breathe in. Sliced into sharp, slapped on sticks of dirtied, empty berries and stabbed right through your memories - OUCH! Gently now, it was probably some type of mistake. Some type of negligence of precedent. Some type of reinvention of the justifications of patriarchy right? Healing is across a border we can't access, that's why one must dominate? Healing cannot happen without mutual consent. Healing - now - mostly happens in private, in sleep even, as trauma keeps happening in public - we wake up and we know it will. No wonder I’m staring at the ceiling of my closet that's now slanted as a wall, blocking my vision of the very zombies who need to hurt me and box me to feel like they were the ones who won healing. You don't win healing. It happens or it doesn't. Then you die. The winning is quality of life, of yourself and the world. Don't tell me you're happy if you are in pain even when you are still - comfort. I continued staring at the slanted wall. I sighed, and spoke to the X beans.
“Enjoying yourself, are you? You know maybe you ought to stay in there like that. What, an elbow up an ass - Thats where your third eye is right? Why do you even want to heal then, if it's just for more hedonism?” I configured with a smirk. The banging in the collapsed western ceiling stopped and all five zombies began spanking - speaking over each other in silence, In an attempt to win the attention and thought economy from each other. I attempted to fart on them through the wall and Mouth hummed boldly, “If I were to take a ponder, I would say they are scavenging the petroleum here for money, something of value they can sell to others for additional sexual leverage. You see, those zombies, they are withered, they are dried up raisins desperate for lube. The fish that put the bead up Corn’s ass during the party, they told me nothing matters except that everyone has a good time-” The zombies began slamming their heads against the outer walls, their hollow brains echoing in unison - STOP> WAIT <I DON'T OWN YOU YET> WAIT <YOU ARE NOT ME SO YOU ARE WRONG> WAIT <LOOK EVERYONE IS DOING WHAT I'M DOING AND SHIT SUCKS OUT HERE (UNRELATED)> WAIT <I DON'T KNOW WHAT CONNECTION LOOKS LIKE - flies out of their ears and getting caught by the suckers on the tentacle-walls. The celinging was pushing down on all sides, now horizontal with the petroleum gel, now only several feet, as the dents continued in acceleration as the unison became to create greater force over time because you know, momentum exists. That's why we have to walk in the same direction when we go on hikes, that's why we need to point and chat and go - lets be curious - no im scared - okay nothing once more outside and here I am everything - inside this current beneath me, by the peace of nature and the symbiosis of mermaid capability. I layed flat and looked at the edge of the border of the door that was now halfway horizontal on the sides of the wall and the ceiling, like a horse gate stuck in the corner office of a skyrise. Fingers laid through the cracks in the door, begging for just a speck of oil to once again feel hydrated and alive.
As my tail reached the end of space between the ceiling and the jel, I listened to the banging on the dents. BUM bum BUM bum BUM bum BUM bum - The three prongs raised, the shortest one snapped upright, grazing the tentacles above as with a whirl, I spun around so Mouth faced upwards as they propelled “ALL YOU LOSER ASS MOTHERFUCKERS!!!! GET OFF MY FUCKING DICK!!!! <GOD, GET THESE ZOMBIES MARKED X SOME FUCKING GEL TO CURE THE BLACK DEATH>-”
SPLASHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH-
The ceiling above me maintained a steady pressure as it became the recipient of the bottom of a waterfuckfall, the oil must adhere to gravity, as the fillions of zombies, grounded from the ball rolled up the hill, piling against the walls of the house, turned to oil, and lathered the suckers and tentacles with more lube really as I sat there, my senses losing themselves to the overpowering scream of the emotions pried free of fillions of bodies, blood turned to lube huh? Call Mouth the next King Cornelius-
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CHAPTER TWENTY: MAKING SOME FUCKING FRIENDS
My mouth was boiled through - as scaly and waxy and as unforgiving as my exterior. The bear was staring at me, but I couldn't see them. There was a hole forming in my cheek and stomach, melted flesh dripping down my chin and my appendix being burned through by acid. My breathing was heavy - my skull was withstanding the outrage, and my teeth were galloned sour. I looked at the glass of tea in front of me. I picked it up and slammed the shit into the wall on the far side of the cabin - CLASH - it broke a window and a faint hume of smoke began to protrude outside from the fire on the trees. The curtains covered all but the smoke once more. The black hole that was once in my heart, is now a bright sun, set square between my eyes - Beneath my forehead there lay a deep and unsettling heat. One of fury and vengeance and righteous, benevolent anger. You see, once you hear the boundary from your own Mouth, it becomes law. These stupid ass bitches, they better know not to cross me just for their own damn benefit!!! For their own perceived dominance! To confirm their suspicion that everything becomes nothing, once it passes through them. They are the filter in which Everything crumples and loses shape, and aw, once something dies, it can't be brought back - but what can die but a body and a mind? You tell me what carries on, however blistered and torn, however haunted and refined to remine the redline and find what should’ve never fucking happened in the first place. Yall only act out of regret, of shit you didn't even do. Crazy motherfuckers, you know what did get done? Monarchic colonization of anarchic collectives. And so we bring it back, cause that's what got stolen from us before we could even have the sense to mutter that sentence. I looked at the large metal container of tea, and pushed it off the table with a scrape.
The bear moved to the side in their seat - caught it in arms, brought it back up, and sighed. They began to speak.
“Suffocation. The lack of stillness. Forced urgency. Being trapped in a coffin before you are ready to die - before you are dead. No one can see you, just what they’d write on your gravestone when you die - to hide their contempt. If only, morality was objective - as if harm isn't traceable and guilt isn't the most obvious emotion we have! I want to drown in truth - I don't want to drown in well-crafted lies that sell for 99.99 in scavenger marketing deployments. I just want some fish who could be honest with me about what they feel about what they think - so that they might desire change in accordance with one's nature - one of love - soft bellied warmth and curiosity. Rather than being so trained as to be a runner, a worker bee of efforted strained to silence and dismiss, to reduce and restrain, to strangle and docile, to other and cover your sins beneath one hundred layers of dishonest wrapping. Find some spiked tree beneath - Oh lord, trim all the branches - it seemed as I must have tripped and fallen into the tree, and it hurt me - How dare you I must shave one's beauty, one’s protection, one’s weighted blanket of words and gored lived love, of hugs of oneself at its most delicate private moments, of whispered labors of a time outside the drained and dire loser in a circumstance - how rare - how worshipped - how worthy - and so of course to a zombie mermaid’s chest marked X like they could Boom her at any moment, they see a speck of shiny gold and in no part of their tortured rotten hearts do they utter - and then, they must not take advantage of that vulnerability, of that gentle honesty, of that soft shaper of royal hearts. You are alive here Corn, as many times as you pop and still insist you are Nothing.” The bear expelled precisely, waiting.
I considered a cup of tea and felt the hole in my cheek chafe away at the surrounding tissues like they owed it rent. I eyed the windowsill next to the edge of the table in the cabin and saw a pack of cigarettes. I took the box and took one out. It was wrapped in seaweed - which is kinda overkill makes my digestive system trip out and I already have a hole in my stomach from the acid. I slid the cigarette into the flesh hole in my cheek as the melting glue covered around the tube, welding it in place to the inside above my jaw. I glanced at the bear. “Light me bitch. I'm going out with a bang i just chugged a spoiled gallon of gasoline - I don't know how you make tea that strong. It's too good. Is that lemonade and ginger?” I said, grabbing the knife on the table next to me and cutting off - Nothing. I'm pretty sure all that got damaged was my appendix. The bear watched me carefully as I put the knife down and stared at the beaker of tea.
“Could I have some tea please ms bitch?” I flavored kindly, careful not to smile or else the cigarette be dislodged from the melting wax of flesh holding it in place. The bear opened their mouth wide and for a moment I feared the breath would light the cig and explode this place far too quickly - I prefer for the entire forest and cabin to burn before this cig - The bear yawned. Poured another glass of tea from the cup underneath the cabinet table construction. Built kinda like Stevie-
Bitch, miss me with that accurate metaphoric objectification. Spoiler alert, Arugula is now Soggy-uh-ville. I looked through the hole in one of the suckers in the bottom of the tentacle closest to my face - the city has been wiped out by the gel waterful flood after a hoard of a fillion zombies turned into a mass based blob of lube and wiped out the landscape. A fillion people might have died and most certainly did die and were injured and slightly displaced from their lived residents - the building and property of which - no longer exist. Don't worry, at least we're safe where we are, right Cornelius-
Bitch, I'm safe as long as the flood puts out the fire in my forest. Cabinet of hired action superheroes can't find one girl like me to operate the fire department. They call me Mr. Ben Franklin. Huffing on my bills, temptations like hill swansons like phil bonnet like chill comet miss me with that buff greycation. I considered lighting the cigarette in my cheek. I might go out like this forever - Nothing - aesthetically, watch, I’m gonna run a continent of men into grey billboards of hey im sal! I'm looking for sealed shit, about that dollar ball shit - Drizzle it onto my cinnamon sticks for my partner in penetrative crime, do you have a line? I'm looking for a way to get through this catastrophe of a dry hemisphere of local radiation of a man who couldn't tell snow from a white september? Groves of lovers line the halls of the growling calling me to northern lights in the fall heaven? But the leaves - they turn orange. They turn red. They turn yellow. Not in that order. Then green. What do you think is the next partner? Cowboy right? Ride the Bull, yes? You were quick to jump on that one. The Bright-Pink-So-Safer-Blaster must have hit the manual activation button in your asshole, my friend, how operatic of the mermaid body. :-0. Oh wow, A fragment of language on the wall of the cave in front of me, tapered a tattoo on the bear's face when they caught a glimpse of the expression bloated as I may have chirped between the table beside them. I looked at the cup of tea. It was still steamingly tapered for my tongue. I looked at the bear, who was staring at a blue box marked with calligraphy on the table, who began speaking.
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“It's strange how, in the Pacific and Atlantic - two opposites - both have recalled claims of enlightenment but only one has dualism? In the Atlantic, we have a crisis of every binary, of poverty, inflation, isolation, dysfunctionality of the thought system that builds the systems we are operating under - the ones that create and recreate violence at every switch in the path from death and life - as if one is better than the other - as if death is the reward for the accumulation of suffering - as a release, as the holy nothing of everything life has to offer.” The bear took a hand and opened the shade to the window, revealing the burning trees at the edge of the clearing - and pointed to the chopping block. They continued, “I’ve had mermaids, those ones who have lost function of their body so much that they write an X across their chest in service to zombie nation - have come to me and ask for a test. A test of true valor. One where, If they are able to withstand a blow to the neck on the block and grow back something convex, something concave, something different, something the same - but always something alive - that they could prove to themselves they were worthy of a life of safety, freedom, security - one that of those awarded to those dozen deemed Everything, who have been so fortunate to fall across the part of the water that awards one with power to change oneself. With sovereignty enough to break out the cage one is in - some cowardly folk, ones who’d have ran before they ever saw the forest burning, have told others I am one of magic powers. Not true, you’ve seen the tea. Only as harmful as you are scared. Bitch ass motherfuckers.”
I looked to the window at the burning underwater trees, and slipped a glance to the door. I might need to steal and sell this tea once I decide to leave here - I thought plainly. I put a hand on my handbag with the Bright-Pink-So-Safer-Blaster inside. The ground beneath the cabin began to shift as my seat shifted me forward in a jagged motion as my head swung down towards the table and I saw that once when I reached for Nothing - there was really a knife - which graced my forehead and pierced through skin to the white just under the orange scale protecting the base of my brain protecting my skull protecting my brain protecting myself from being seen or - The bear's ears pricked up, and they spoke.
“Hey Corn, could you go out to the chopping block in the clearing and cut off ur head so we could grow a barrier - to protect my house from the fire and the flood. I don’t wanna get up. I’ve had enough of this bullshit of a reckoned natural disaster - I didn’t come to this place just for it to be run down by the negligence of a city's worth of consumers and those who say I shall be consumed first so I may sell the consumed - so I win!” The bear grinned and stared at me. I caught a glare and shifted my gaze to the window in an attempt to see my reflection - and saw only the block - the fire inches towards the fields of green. I blinked. An ember - somehow - landed upon the outer glass plane in front of me and doused a burnt mark into the transparency, fading to a clear scar. It taxes me, here, having to use myself, my body - To risk my own death to save this place from destruction - ah, in the corner of my eye I glanced at the cigarette stuck in the hole in my cheek. I opened -
“A test of valor - DO WHAT IS RIGHT, NOT WHAT MAKES YOU FEEL GOOD. The hedonism of these modern age morals, is masochistic in its pleasure outsourcing - Cadavers stuck in the pit level of intellectual self sabotage so that they treat their body as pain managers. Instincts. Please lord just follow your instincts. You close your eyes, it's dark, because that's where the peace lies - peace in knowing the fear is your friend - as long as you know when you open your eyes - during when you are about to risk your death and the energy of your life helping someone. Genuinely helping someone. Inflicting the desire of lack - shaming - insisting one is without something one needs in this world - that's just Dr Dookie telling me my lower half of my mermaid body was not enough as it was - that my trust in humanity meant that I am not capable of defending myself when the situation calls for it? Strength in the masses until they leak out the cliff’s edge down the side of a mountain and wind up greasing the cogs of the empire - the production of value that is used as leverage over human bodies that naturally just want to be free and safe together to play games and celebrate the process and the finish line and the velvet rope at the end for the embellishment of the one's effort as a result of their knowledge and in part of their attention! AKE me a river, Stevie-”
Babe, the flood is real. This house that I am in. There is an inescapable amount of pain it has taken force to. It it beaten and blanded and withered to a pulp of the springs below that may have just given me the strength to withstand so much violence and still come to you from my softest and flattened bed and be so gentle when I tell you you need to trust your mouth, that you need to protect this bear and this safe place you have found so dearly in the corners of what natures curiosity has brought to you. You weren't meant to blow up, Corn. No one should have gotten the right to name and define what you can and could be but you, given how sacred these cowards who mark themselves with an X to be given keepsake to the first punch landed and the words said - there with the might - before and after. I have taken weapon Z here from you, my friend, as to say - this violence in a system of governance built to maintain and justify slavery - is not just. I have this to show you - unless one is under threat of death, one does not kill. Aesthetically, any loss of mass is death. You have not even cut as much as a finger to grow a cup of tea before you sawed yourself in half, have you Cornelius-
Another ember touched the glass in front of the cigarette in the flesh in my cheek, as my stomach churned its gas. The bear turned around in their seat and my eyes fell upon the blank space on the wall behind the bear. There was a soft break in the blue wallpaper that split the lining of the wood at the top of the ledge of the cabin ceiling. The bear turned back to me. I turned to the door - avoiding the window as I turned again to the hallway towards the beds inside the cabin. “Can I sleep though? I am tired. I need to know if you’ll stop the flood if it comes.” I prompted, as the bear nodded. I liquified in my seat and fell asleep on the floor below me.
I awoke not unlike before, perhaps the gasoline had moved past my stomach and had covered the rotted appendix beneath it - withered and waiting for a surgeon's hand to remove it. I eyed outside the shades of the window - the green has mostly disappeared to a gulf of flames redden madden awakened I noticed a bunnyfish hopping on the bottom of the frame of the window. I moved from my seat to the door - stopping briefly for a drink of tea and a glare at the bear - as I spun around and opened the door and headed out to the long weeds that stem off the dirt below the gravel of sands beneath me. I pushed off from the door, slamming it shut as the lust fell across the lands of flames chasing the bunny towards my torso. The bunny fish spoke as their right ear twitched.
“Have you eaten the grass here? It’s delicious. It’s like velvet rope that turns to black liquorice only when you look at it - although, if you decide to lie down in the sun with your back to the grass, the spice and the spikes - they turn to a deep knowing. I know that the shades have turned the trees in your direction, that the fallen soldiers buried in these lands did not find redemption where they searched for knowledge of oneself. The bear you seem so fond of is a tricky one, isn't she? You'd find her nipping at my heels, asking when I'll be around again to show the next zombie the hue and tint and saturation and split face brown waste feline break down the nose just to hang it on the wall and call it some other object! Watch your face, sire, that cheek of yours wont turn from all angles. I'm sure this fire will be put out when the flood gets here, don't worry - I trust I'll find the underground railroad out of this hole right beneath you - above you - you stepped over it while you floated away from the harbor on the fallen scale to your left on the right.” The bunny pointed at the bottom of my tail as a flame leaped from the weeds below me and scorched a scale or orange weight. I considered kicking the bunny. I eyed their movements suspiciously as they hopped back and forth on the right side of the path towards the block with the axe. The path ahead of me was a straight one, as I rolled my eyes as the fire spread I hurried along and scanned the tops of the weeds for anything that might get me to the mound quicker.
A horsefish ran along the edge of the clearing and cut off to the bridge to the left of me, cutting around a collapsed portion of forest and through where the heat was yet to reach. As the horse approached, the bunny leaped from a rock in the weeds and fell directly on the horse's face. The horse NEIOGHHHHHA as the bunny paid no attention to the function of its twitching ears and they dug their claws into the eyes of the horse, pressing in and around the edges of the circle like they were Michael Cadaver in the kitchen preparing them for a meal. Two eyes popped out the horse’s body as if I, an innocent bystander, was the one to conduct the terms and evident outcome of the naming ceremony - I declare the first eye as Hillardly and the second as Chillardly. They shall each be in accordance to a competitive swing match of how many bounces will the eyes bounce in a row after hitting the rock in the weeds? Rad said five. NEIOGHHHHAH the horse shook the bunny off its head, collapsed forward, got up, ran away towards the clearing on the right side of the cabin, and hit its head on a collapsed tree, fell into a burning bush, and got its legs caught in the branches as pins and needles stabbed into their torso and stomach, the lower half of their horse body completely deferring in value to the earlier versions of the horse where they actually had eyes. The horse started to reek of burnt meat as the bunny returned to me, blood soaked, and began humming in delight as they bowed.
“NO MORE GRASS <3 we get to eat meat tonight! How wonderful is nature, wouldn’t you agree?” The bunny eyed me deerly, stomping on the shortest ends of the seaweeds. The embers floating by my head lighting like fireflies - like bees so gentle and deadly as to not land on the length of the cigarette in my cheek. I swerved my head in a circle to avoid the flames on my heart. I let my scales on the flattest lands of my skin, take upon new blackened burnt scars as to say NO, I will not forget what was once done to me and what might happen again If the fears of men overtake them such that I won’t be able to give a chance of the death of my life for the momentum of the path of love of the other’s being - of giving blood to a conjured world of systems dripping dry, once tamed by the leveled doorways missed by lights frontiered path of freedom. The path laid before me might as well be a rivers edge, contained only by the destruction the embers have laid from beside it, in the green that remains. The bunny hopped forwards as I followed towards the hilt on the framed edge of the mountain before me. The long axe laid against barren ground in the right laid against a rack of belt bones - on the untouched side of the furthest edge of the clearing may offer in fires storm upon us. Ouch. I marched ahead. The bunny was quick to turn once they reached the mound and eyed me - gracefully, as they spoke.
“Oh, are you gonna save me, oh captain? I like your scale color my friend - Orange? Reminds me of something pretty in my caved hole. I'll bring the axe down on your head, if you’d like - One clean strike on your neck and maybe then the bear would finally leave me alone in these waters. I like tea too, you see - so they are still alive. Enough blind fish around here still - though I can't say the same for Soggy-uh-ville - this place might as well be included in the mainland after the flood sweeps us out of here. You know - we don't need your help with that, I was just about to stop it all myself. If you just give me a moment here, I’ll hop and chop and grow back three heads - dig into that horse meat three times as efficiently!” The bunny gleaned, their eyes shifting up into their brow as they continued to be blinking a bit too rapidly as the - I avoided their attempted nudge as I swung hips beyond them - towards the ax by the rack attached to the widest base tree in the clearing. The bunny hummed behind me, “Oh, you don't even want the crown, do you prince? We’re burning. Look around. It’s burning. We’re gonna die - don’t you care? You seem to be wagging your tail a lot, very excited to bring determinism to life huh? Just get right along the fastest path out of this joint, the one with the least missteps and the most fallen fashion. You’ll trip on a bucket of lightly more condensed water tinted a colorless green out there - cut off your head on the sharp grace of us mortals down here using our movements and cords to sip our tea in peace and feel our glee with sheep! Ahh, the yummy meat stored for later - when I’ve had enough of the woolen layers on the outside. Come along, get to chopping, only five more carrots to go until you’ve lost all the hands to play here, king.”
I glared at the pimped out fucking bunny. This bunny has no swagger whatsoever. My eyes caught a glimpse of a large parchment of fumbling red embers gliding under my chin and I lifted my head to avoid the cigarette in my cheek from catching a lick of flame. I arrived upon the rack and took the axe in hands - All ten fingers prepared to get this disaster undone. The bunny sniffed the floor around the chopping block, the surrounding grass clearly overdone from the bunnies past hunts leaving dried blood remained - apart from the flames being patted down by the hops. I dragged the axe to scrap the blades of the glass raised above the holes where the rabbit hides their envy of someone who has real capabilities in this world. My death means something because my name will be eched on the fucking stone monolith. This bunny will be kicked and buried in the same place they keep referring to as a home. My home is my blood - laid bare and bones dragged dry as to grow the wings to escape here, to pull a rabbit out of the bucket of lightly more condensed water - tinted what seems to be the wings of a flying squirrel. Someone scared of the applications of their desires to make something stand true and firm in this world. I approached the block and the bunny and raised the axe further up into my arm until it was raised slightly over my head. The bunny took notice of a corpse that had been steaming on the car side of the garden a few moments from my side and darted across me underneath the axe. I blinked. The bunny took notice. “Swing right on around to me darling. Oh, please sir, don’t become the King, your right, your passage, there are too many eyes around these lands sire, far too many voices to be heard - we couldn’t possibly have it get out that you’ve taken to pleasing the nobility of a whore’s son, have you Corn?” A flash of red glared upon my eyes as a section of trees collapsed to light in a moment as I caught a glimpse of a river approaching far too heavy to bear for the clear lands as these cabins would have it. I eyed the block as the cigarette caught my sight. I raised the ax above my head and shifted it so that the blade was pressed against the back of my neck as my right arm took the wrapped shaft sturdy in hand and hmmm. I would need to chop it - my eyes avoided the bunny as they began to chuckle - or choke as they began to claw through the former body nulled to smeared flesh and oil.
“You’ll need to bend down - I could make the cut. I know you’ll need to focus on bringing the weight of the world to a halt with your covered scales - no - I don’t believe you can do both. It’s clearly one or the other here. You could never serve two looks at once babes, never fly a kite into the kitchen and cook the fire through the house to heat the winds of a fillion balloons - no - file a restraining order against the mutt and keep your toes on tap for collapse.” The bunny kicked the body down a gut - blump blump blamp - in the hill as the liar returned their efforts to my dimmed wit, “You won't know what to make of a world here that calls upon your sacrifice without a second glance at the baby, out the back of your belly you tear through the melody in sand shrewd from melon neglected and so you come here to be disrespected by yourself? You widen up your belt and prepare to cut away the sliver of melted mind that has been enforced on you, berated into you by a harmless fluff in a sea of spiked branches of burning trees atop bushes you'll never find a way to navigate through when you attempt to run the course blind, with your bare hands no less! Even the zombies come here with whim robotic manufactures of their fractured and tapered-through self, but you my cheeked up friend, you pulled through these gardens with nothing but a burnt orange scale and the name on the gun in your handbag pronounced King Cornelius II. Oh darling royal, you divine angel, you benevolent protestor of the ingrained nose ringed on a big chinned mountain rimmed hole of mercy - your headless body! Do you care if I begin to chant your name as you pop, dear Corn?”
I knelt towards the fucking stupid fucking pillar fucking wooden bloodied stupid fucking protruded hole of organ button mashed up ripped up scene of feral idiocy. I swung my arm around as my left arm began to send me a last prayer in the form of a five written in bitten in my soul's last tour in the midnight twilight of fever bright on a summer's night the coast laid bare as my arm ripped off me. I riffed and the cigarette which had coaxed my cheek in burnt bridges of faux flesh, of false personhood in a world that was never meant to belong to me if no other could claim it as their own. The ax swung from my right - haven ripped through the liver of my forearm - and taken form as a tentacle stretching length for manual purpose as a leveraged host of strength shall rain down on my neck and give me some born beared weight of strength in this world to remove the wound from the places and sufferers of oceans inorganic to follow this siren call to the seas surely shown in matter of dices rolled in the temples under heaven I know the truth comes out when the priests do more then stare at god’s creations with pity and contempt and no newfound love in the ring lit with life a circle of bit through a severed line with wicked wings come predefined with wicked things with slickened kings with deepened fangs with teeth that breath waves in the fight that's laid forth upon me with greater might then one could handle - song heard twitched with three heads like a muffled phantom. The cigarette was reaching the edge of my vision as the fire began to reach upon my cheek and feet. The tentacle reached and slapped the carrot out of the bunnies mouth.
“OHhhhhh I see - no - I see. You needed the tentacle arm to help you out here - wow - bitch? Don't get a lot of attention from the type there in the castle - the king's guards patrolling the jail cells - hoping to see a mice more than anything else for preemptive condition of the sake of the dire lays dirt bare in the lake of salts might come to swat the damn flies? I heard there was a house for suckers down there on the streets of Arugula, that seems like your type of milestone there, why don’t we etch it into the floor beneath you real quick, Ms other trucker. Run right down the straight path back there didn’t you, stopped and got gassed up by who exactly, some grazed weed to find some damn grace in your chest to nullify the beating heart that once begged your lord for forgiveness on these very steps. Fly around here, die around here, what's the difference when you live so dangerously you want nothing but to find the one perfect motherfucker to pop and pray that they deserved it so that you might live on day settled in yourself that this might turn out okay with just a sliver on the top of your head. You want to wear a crown, give away your fillion dollars worth of mouth and brainstem - totally wiring around something grander and more capable of maintaining mass than yourself. You know nothing but consumption - trying to tell me how to eat my carrots - you speak in the words of lack and remorse and it's almost a pity if anyone believed you deserved more than you are but to find out you don’t have the strength, that you need the power of the other’s sower or else you might just crumble and fall down this hill in wax doll of melted shell or turtled framed plain.” The cigarette had crept up on my cheek and had fallen to ash inside my tattered cheek, in the gums and through my lungs into the top sliver of my mind that might leave only a shriek.
The tentacle arm reached around from the left half of my body and grabbed the ax from my right hand. I leaned towards the block and prepared my body to absorb the impact of the chop on the back of my mind. If the fire spreads from the hole in my cheek down anything that might be flammable in the area, then the whole cabin and garden area will explode! Goodness, I shall move the axe up towards the levels of the base finds its prayer to the sky - take a photo, it'll last you - and slammed the damn edge of the grazed line of fired hymes and tore right through the ridge and the rest-
And. And. And. And. And. And. And. And. And. And I cooked the motherfucker. Chopped the head right off the man, delt and dished and lost to the lobsters that may come to chew up his body now. KING CORNELIUS II. That's what it says, by the way, on the monolith across the base of my liver that tells you - I'm that guy! Hi, I’m Sal! Buff orange scales illuminated throughout from the top of the newfound head of Cornelius, extending upwards in form before they dripped down the ladle of onions cut from layers and layers of waves approaching from the western side over north of the bank drawn in the river’s most slithered moment, the erosion of the moment into something truer. Further down the line, I’m making sure someone pisses on this man's statue, someone’s gotta be the first to do it and the bunny already hopped in their hole to hide, no way they believed someone from royal descent could do such a brave feat. No, no I don't believe anyone has ever done anything braver than pissing on King Cornelius II ever. Not a single moment of taken free will in a life so torn and shamed for being something as simple as gay? It's difficult to parse that one could take such a life in such a manner, for what cause? The tree base that was the body of unpopped Corn grew to proportionate size, and leveled into a semi circle around the surrounding forest and cabin and garden and underwater flooded blood money of a fucking colorfuck of a towns engine. Bullshit. I watched the orange walls as my cheek itched me - the flood of the zombie petroleum was battled by the walls and then the centrifuge filled up with gel and set sprinklers in the orange sky to put out the fire, which only really stoked it further, igniting the flammable substance as the entire fucking place burned with the fire. Soon all was red - but the cabin. The cabin was made of inflammable wood. The walls let out a constant -
SHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHStevie-
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CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE: THE FUCKING PITSTAINS
Oh my Mouth, have we ever had the ability to lift our house out of this slate of crumpled paper? We may fold another day into soil, or between itself to find some shape that beckons to you. To have a familiar way to raise the lanes shoot pretty down in the metal doused in weighted names and leave dinner changed. I praise the day you let us play to fade out unbraid down the withers strawed into law and break the door down and shake the floor - found your pennies it drowns the lennies the slurred into pansied the broken for loitering. Emotions are anti-capitalist, once you are seeing with the lens of erotic and moving with anarchic motives in your life - What a release - man, the fragments of my history that don't mean much to me, when I have a room of my own that locks. All the death and rebirth just to say mother I can have a child of love myself. I know what loss feels like. I know exposure and I missed pleasure and what's worth it in this world of blanded reflections. And I’m going to make it happen. Tear the boots house down?