Majestic as Fuck: The Tale of Reasonably Priced Cheese

It was Tuesday, nothing special.  Just another day of work, gathering shopping carts in stifling humidity, with Carl.  The rainbow, at first, was a welcome break from hour three of Carl's Billy Idol impression. But, then they saw it.  

"Ed, is that...?"

"Can't be..."

"But, it looks like a unicorn." 

"We have heatstroke, Carl. Or we're having a stroke."     

"What..both of us?  At the same time."

"Yes."

"That is a fucking unicorn, Ed.  That is majestic as fuck.  Look at it!  Slowly coming towards us, like a fucking regal biscuit or something coming down an escalator."

"I'm officially changing my answer to delirium now." 

They watched in silence as it slowly descended.  

"Welcome to Trader Joes!" Carl shouted as the Unicorn set hooves on the hard pavement with a determined clack.

"I know we allow service dogs, but this really isn't in the manual."

The unicorn met Edwards blue eyes. 

"Is there anything we can get you?"  He asked baffled.

The creature stared back with a weird sort of indignation, then opened it's mouth wide.  

"Holy fucking shit!" Carl screamed as streams of lemmings jetted from the unicorns open mouth, immediately burying both Carl and Ed in a pile of furry rodents that somehow dissolved human flesh.     

From the half shade drawn windows customers and employees watched in horror as the unicorn approached the automatic doors.  

People scrambled away from the magical being as it walked by the bananas that you buy per banana rather than buy the pound like at most stores.  

One brave, but incredibly stupid, child darted from her mother's grasping hands running full throttle to the unicorn shouting "My little pony!"  Soon after, that child was dissolved in a pile of acidic lemmings.  The mother soon followed, which, the unicorn decided, was her fault. She saw what happened to the child. If she didn't want death by lemmings she would have stayed put.  This was all forgotten, as soon as the unicorn reached the cheese section.  Delighted, it selected a nice chunk of gouda and headed to the register.  

"Just take it!" The clerk shouted, terrified.

Tempted, the unicorn considered, but conscience won out.  Taking the cheese would be stealing and stealing is wrong. The unicorn locked eyes with the amoral demon whore and began to open it's mouth.

"Shit! $2.95 then!" she corrected.

Smart girl, that was indeed the exact price marked on the selected cheese.  The unicorn was pleased, and stamped it hooves.  Through the power of childrens laughter, love and sunshine $2.95 magically appeared on the counter.  

"I'm going green!" The unicorn announced, to the bewildered clerk.  

"Shit, it can talk!" One man shouted. Naturally, that man was promptly dissolved by lemmings. The unicorn proudly took it's wedge cheese without a shopping bag like a good environmentalist, and returned to it's rainbow.   Even terrified, despite the sizable wedge of cheese in it's mouth, everyone had to agree, it looked majestic as fuck.  

  

Denial

Pupils blown, breath hitching,  you are glass, wrapped in a red towel, in my arms.

You can let go...please let go.

I stroke the bones of your neck feigning comfort, because I am lost.

Will she ever come for you?

Or should I simply move my hand and slam the gates to your air?

The mercy of a monster, five more minutes I would have faced who I really am.

Terror masquerades in the hope of others.  

That I would close my eyes and in a flash of light be trapped in my past.

Caged eternal with them, with her, by immobile bars of pearl.

I wish for you to go like a painless dream, forgotten upon waking.

The relieved ennui of stars consumed by a black hole.

I wish for an end to your pain, and for me to have better wishes.  

Post-its

"Corine" he said, "It's after ten already, what are you still doing in bed?"

"I'm focusing all my mental energy on killing the sun, of course!"

"What? Why?" Mark was clearly alarmed.

"It's for you darling, it's all for you.  It's our anniversary after all!  The first year it's traditional to die in a horrible fiery collision with the sun, I think?"

"No, honey, I think it's paper.."

"Paper? Really? Paper burning in a horrible fiery collision with the sun?"

"Uhm...no."

"Oh, are you quite sure?"

"Yes, for fucks sake! I'm sure!"

"You don't have to shout." Corine pulled the covers up to her neck and thought.  "Well, you do like post-it notes, I suppose I can get you that."

"Post-its will be fine, dear.  Come out when you're ready."

"Mark? Will you make me some bacon?  I'd like five large plates, piled high with life draining bacon."

Mark blinked in incomprehension.  "I think we're out of bacon, there's some cereal in the cabinet when you're ready to get up."

Corrine sighed, "I suppose that will do."

Corrinne watched Marks quickly retreating form feeling relief wash over her when she was finally alone.   With a smile she closed her eyes and muttered.  "Post-its it is my love, post-its burning in a fiery collision with the sun!"

Citalopram

50 milligrams, to hone that which is not precise.

I am left twisted, reveling in my own strangeness.

It is a relief.

The desired effect was not that I leave society behind.

But, I am good at keeping secrets.

I claim this silence as mine.

You gift me digital parchments of your words.

I hum their rhythm,  feel your typos etched like scars.

They jangle nerve endings and make me smile.

Ricochet, images sent next in concerted resolve.

You've taken the queen too early, any master knows.

In this patchwork of obvious realization I only find tedium.

All I need is a precipice and the ability to jump.

I run back to that which is really me.  

I'll always be the exception to your spectre of normalcy.

You'll never know.

Biological (Panic Attack Poetry Theater Pt. 2)

I watch them fill their parchment full.

Lines and breath made of concentric circles.

I drift in void space.

I want to hear the echo that resounds in their ears.

Mute sound to reanimate their limbs.

I know what you want. 

But, I can't lead this jagged shadow army. 

Pain is the ultimate excuse.

Can I disengage this frayed cord and let it fall?

I'm so tired. 

There was once more than this.

Once...

Those screams, that's your real mother.

Biological warfare is pretty.

Shiny.

Sleep now.  Panic will sing to you.

Shamble to Me, My Love: Zanticore and Cthulhu Watch Zombies Fuck

"Cleo my darling, shamble to me, my love.  Let me unhinge my jaw and pleasure you."

"Muuuuuhhhhhhhhh." Cleo groaned with either enthusiasm or dismay.  Brian could no longer tell as so much of her face had rotted away.  It didn't matter.  Cleo was his moon and sun.  Among her many positives, Cleo retained her breasts.  Usually, the breasts were the first pieces to go, falling to the earth with two soft thumps.  Most zombie women tripped over them, never noticing the loss.  The preoccupation with acquiring brains was far too pressing, oddly more so for women than men.

Preparing for sex Brian unfastened his rags and secured his penis with an extra layer of duct tape. For although his right foot was now a distant memory, the penis was one appendage he planted to keep.

"Should we be watching this?" Zanticore whispered to Cthulhu.

"YES, WE SHOULD WATCH THE ZOMBIES FORNICATE." Cthulhu shouted.

Zanticore flinched, halting his movement on the playground swingset.  The zombies didn't react. Perhaps, they had lost their hearing.  Or possibly they were simply disinterested in a pair of non-humans. Although, Zanticore looked human, he retained an otherness that clearly marked him as the god of au gratin potatoes.

"How many times must I ask you not to yell?"

"I AM THE GREAT CTHULHU.  I ENJOY YELLING.  ESPECIALLY IN THE PRESENCE OF THOSE THAT WOULD SCARE OFF ALL THE CRUNCHY FUN SIZE HUMANS."

"Please."

"Fine." Cthulhu grumbled waving his tentacles.  "I'm just angry that all the moving displays are vacant of snacks."

Zanticore sighed, raking fingers through his shaggy mane of cheese colored hair.  "They're called children.  This is a playground.  It's not a moving buffet."

"I'm hungry."

"Don't start that, you ate that woman at the dollar store only 15 minutes ago."

"Her lower casing was marked juicy.  She was NOT juicy!"

Zanticore smirked."Humans call them sweatpants, not casing. Albeit, pants with "juicy" prominent on the backside are not considered elegant couture.  You really should keep apprised of such matters since it pertains to your cuisine! "

"She still was not juicy."

"The dollar store is always a myriad of disappointment.  We really should have gone to K-mart."

"BOTH STORES ARE IRRELEVANT. WHY DO YOU LOVE SHOPPING AT IRRELEVANT STORES?  WHY CAN'T WE EVER GO TO HOME DEPOT? ALSO, YOU ARE DISTRACTING ME FROM WATCHING THE ZOMBIES FUCK."

Zanticore stood doing an unnecessary cape florish.  "The shouting Cthulhu!"

"You just have your panties in a knit because the boxes of potatoes au gratin would not worship you, no matter how long we shouted at them."

"20 minutes of shouting "Worship me!" and still they did not bow." Zanticore sighed.

"They will learn their lesson when you devour them tonight.  That's why I like you.  You eat your followers, like me."

Zanticore smiled.  "It's good to have a friend who gets me.  Oh, look they've begun the fellatio!"

"FINALLY!"

Zanticore and Cthulhu Go to K-mart.

"Hello, I am Zanticore the great god of potatoes au gratin."

"AND I AM THE DARK GOD CTHULHU!  ZANTICORE IS GIVING ME A RIDE."

"There's no need to shout Cthulhu. Use your indoor voice." Zanticore chided, turning his attention once again to the bewildered K-mart employee.  "We are looking for a specific kind of wrench."

"WE SEEK THE WRENCHES OF ALLEN."

Zanticore sighed.  "Honestly, Cthulhu.  Again with the shouting."

Cthulhu glared at Zanticore.  "IT HAS BEEN 14 MINUTES SINCE I'VE LAST EATEN."

"Yes, you relayed the message that you are hungry 12 minutes ago."

"15 MINUTES NOW!! LET ME EAT THE HUMAN!"

"You can eat later.  For now I simply need to pick up some allen wrenches and some drain cleaner."

The two immortals fell into threatening silence as the young boy stumbled for words.  "If we have allen wrenches they would be in tools, back of the store."

Zanticore's brow knitted.  "If?"

"IT HAS NOW BEEN 16 MINUTES SINCE I'VE LAST EATEN."

"If?" Zanticore was not swayed, his voice almost a growl.

"Yes sir." the employee now trembling.

"Do you know what I can do to you puny human?  Do you? It is the stuff of nightmares.  You can not fathom what it's like to be cheese, potatoes and a casserole dish all at once.   For, I, Zanticore, can turn you into a freshly baked pan of potatoes au gratin. Is that what you want?"  Zanticore paused to do a dramatic cape flourish.  "Well is it?"

"Uhm...what?" The employee now not only violently shaking but very confused.

Zanticore studied the display and smirked.   "Fine, we'll go to home depot.  Cthulhu eat the human who works in the irrelevant store."

"Huzzah." Cthulhu said politely using his best indoor voice and gobbled the tiny human.


Fin.