Thursday, June 15, 2017

a mcfattigus! a mcfattigus! my kingdom for a mcfattigus!


I bathed, making the waters grey water.  But then on the trek up the mountain, a thirst overcame me and I drank the grey water and its froth.  It gave me stomach cramps, and I wanted not to live.

The whole while I still wanted a good friendly Mcfattigus to get into.


I consulted the oracle atop the mountain.  It wasn't her "time of the month"(no visitors scheduled, in other words), so it was nothing doing.  As her servants rushed me out of the room, I was chanting "Mcfattigus, Mcfattigus!", and she was screaming, "no, no, no!"


In times of emotional distress, like me with the horns growing on my head, we see brief visions of the future, but these are hard to interpret: we know not the when and the where of our visions, but accept with a kind of pagan faith that all will elapse as foretold.

But there is so much unseen, and other strong wills that shape the future.



I had three hundred pounds of stones on the wheelbarrow, walking along gingerly, trying to keep the weight balanced, so the whole works did not topple.  Such is not easy.  My fat shook in my jelly arms.  I'm built to lead not to do the menial labor, yet here I was, a menial laboring along like a common proletariat.


I was distracting myself from getting into a willing Mcfattigus.

It was coming down to the wire, with a building pitch, that want, that most epic need, blinding my senses such that I was becoming, not a rational man, but a beast only to be sated by one thing.  Quite irrational, then, and not to be trifled with, not the kind to read the morning post, but the kind to beat the brakes off anybody that looked at me sideways.

On edge.


It gave me a dark turn of thought, like maybe hurting myself.  I have unwittingly hurt myself so much in the past.  I should really consider myself my own worst enemy.  Literally, if I had a wide open Mcfattigus in front of me, I would probably snap an ankle walking up to it.

Like this is not your fate, padawan.



But I can have hope for the future, that the stars will align and the demon will spawn, that the lineage will continue.  I don't want one offspring.  I want four.  Two boys, and two girls.  Got the names picked out already, in fact.

I'll be a good father, too, I think, rising to the challenge.

You know no different.

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