THE QUEST

I just had one of those problems that I needed an answer to. My kidneys had already imploded a record breaking 6 times, and that was just this morning. The death angels were winking at my portrait of a Saint Bernard. To sum up, it was a normal day. Except, of course, for the question that burned inside of me. It was either a question or diarrhea that burned inside of me, that much I knew. I had heard of several cases in which diarrhea had caused its victims to spontaneously combust. If you read this sentence, 70% of your brain will turn to mush. Ah yes, I hear your violent screams of pain now. Anyways, it was an average day for me except for my unanswered question. I went to look for the wisest man I knew. He lived in my toilet. At least that's what the former owners of my home said. I had never seen my toilet, nor my bathroom for that matter. I had once heard that it existed, but in my mind it was a myth, as was the fact that a live bear lived in my fridge. I had seen this bear before, but only when it came in my dreams at night to kill me. Whey this bear wanted to kill me, I do not know. Perhaps I had killed his kinfolk in a former life. I managed to find out how to find my bathroom , but only after going to the local gas station to ask for directions. I think he told me the wrong directions because I ended up at the core of the sun. As my skin melted off, I began to wonder:"had I gone the wrong way?" Maybe I took a wrong turn at 34th street. There's a miracle there you know. If you call a homeless stinky drunk a "miracle". He had a little bucket in which he collected human souls. " Soul for the poor?" he would ask in a slightly demmanding tone. I had seen his kind before. A cannibal worked at my local grocery store. I know this because he wore a name tag which said HI MY NAME IS CANNIBAL. I don't know why I just told you that. Anyways, I digress. I eventually ended up at my bathroom. However, I was afraid to open the door. Probably because there wasn't one. I had just decided to tunnel into my bathroom from underground when I realized there was a door. True, it was on my roof, and true, it was guarded by several 850 pound gorillas, but it was easier, at least in my mind, than digging a tunnel. There was also a door in my bedroom which may have lead to my bathroom but I was afraid to open it. I decided to go with the roof door. I was raped 7 times on my way up to the roof, which was strange because it was MY roof and each time I never saw who did it. Once I even raped myself. Opps I didn't just say that. It was just one of those "things" whatever those "things" are. Has anyone ever seen those "things"? A freind once told me that they were actually homophobic birds. I believed this because a bird had once told me that it was a "thing". When I got on top of my roof, I had a major stare down with a gorilla. I told him how funny it would be if he caught on fire, and with that he grabbed a match and lit himself. It looked fun to burn. I decided that I too, would set myself on fire. It seemed to cause me a great deal of pain however.

PART TWO

I burned and burned and burned and burned and burned. I begged the gorillas for some water. They refused my request. In fact, they rammed a blow torch in my ear and let er rip. I died. Some unholy demon lords came up from hell and resurrected my body so I could continue on my quest. It felt strangely good. I smiled a happy smile at the demon lords in recognition for their act of sheer kindness. This angered them. "This" was a small elven infant that had followed me on my quest. I told This to go home and leave the nice demon lords alone. This obeyed but only after killing his mouse. "His mouse" was a name he had given to his left hand after he realized it had an obsession with cheese. I tried to sick the demon lords on the gorillas. Unfortunately, however, I soon realized that demon lords have violent brain seizures when their skin comes in contact with gorilla fur. Then I had an idea. I had wisely carried a half eaten lizard brain with me on my quest. I quickly shoved the half eaten lizard brain up both nostrils. I then noticed that I couldn't breathe, so I quickly drilled a small hole in my head to get air. I then remembered that I could breathe through my mouth. Seeing no farther use for my mouth, I sewed it shut. MMMMMMM.......UMMMMMMM........ MMMMMMMM ............ MMMMMM....UHHHHHH......MUUUUUU............MMMMMM MMMMMM MMMMMUMMMMM......MUUUUUU....... MMMMMM MMMM MMMMMM? MUUUU! MMMM MOOOO MOOO! UMMM UMMM AWWWWCH! Ah Ah oh Ahem.... After realizing I needed my mouth, I cut it open. After seeing cutting it open had no effect, I decided to cut my mouth open. I then sewed "it" back up. You figure out what "it" is. I decided then to turn my full attention back to the task at hand. Back to the gorillas. "Then my eves violently closed" I gruffly stated. With a confused, and slightly inhuman look on their faces, the gorilllas fell to ground in rabid and violent convulsions. The thought of my eyes violently closing was apparently too much for their feeble minds. I had won. I quickly rammed my arm in a blender I had taken along for just such an occassion. Watching the blood and bits of meat fly was, indeed, fun for a second, but I soon remembered I had yet to find my bathroom. In fact, I hadn't seen the door yet. I wasn't sure I knew what a door looked like. They sounded like magical things these " doors". The only way to find out what one looked like was to ask someone who knew. I think I know a diseased and bloated cat that just might know. Unfortunately he lived on the other side of town. This would hinder my quest, indeed.

PART THREE

I began walking toward what I assumed was the other side of town. It was either the other side of town or the south pole I was headed for, that much I knew. Then it happened. I hacked up my lungs. But that was minor compared to what happened next. I saw the 85 year old woman slowly walking towards me. "Can you help me across the universe?" she solemly stated with a slightly rabid look in her eyes. "I haven't the time" I oddly said with a British accent. Oddly because I didn't know what a British accent sounded like. "YOU WILL HELP ME ACROSS THE STREET" she demmanded as she slapped me repeatedly. With that, I pulled out a baseball bat and violently messed the old lady's face up. After beating her 2 and a half straight hours, I tired. Her high pitched shrieks of "Shhhtop it sonny" still rang in my ears. Not literally, of course, because I don't have ears. She quickly rose up and shoved a nuclear warhead up my butt. Unfortunately, I had gas, and things got ugly when that first fart came out. No, not ugly. Ugly is a word you use to describe that thing that lives in your closet. At least, you assume it lives in your closet, because you haven't the foggiest as to what a closet is. Things got gross. There was guts and blood splattered everywhere. And that was just the old lady after I shoved a shotgun in her mouth and blew her face in half. I did this after finding out the little "surprise" she left in my butt for me to find at a later date. You should've seen what I looked like.It was pathetic. In the distance, I could see the diseased and bloated cat. He looked even more diseased and bloated then I had heard. THat is, if I could hear. This would be a task, indeed. I pulled out my stick and started shaking it violently at the cat. If an odd or pornographic image just entered your mind, shame on you! This was the magic stick that charmed diseased and bloated cats. When I say magic I'm not talking about the fricking magical world of Disney either. Let me tell you a secret. Disney ain't magic. it ain't a world either. " Anyways I pointed and jeered at the cat" I said with a semioval smile. Semioval because my head was deformed. The cat seemed confused. It quickly grabbed me by the face and picked me up. As it shred my face to pieces, I began to wonder about the very reason for my being. I was unsure, at times, that I actually existed and wasn't a figment of some pompous writer's imagination. Perhaps I am but a carpet fiber in this fabulous rug we call life. Why I thought these things as I was dying I do not know. Then I asked the cat what a door was. He explained to me that a door was a cockroach injected with superhuman steriod type thingamoohooeys. I was impressed with his intricate knowledge.

PART FOUR

I worship decaying rat eyes. I don't know why I just told you that. God, I wish I hadn't. Now I appear foolish. We all know I don't want to look foolish. I alreadly look foolish enough. Hee hee hee. Don't laugh at my misery. It ain't right. I quickly headed home with my new found knowledge. Just to make sure I remembered what a door was I carved it on my forehead. Why I carved"it" in my forehead instead of what a door was, I'm unsure.People sure did laugh as I walked the long and winding road towards my home. Which actually i couldn't do since I had no legs. I had a big freaking jetpack strapped on my back. I sort of flew along. Once or twice i splattered into the sides of tall buildings such as skyscrapers. After this, I was in considerable pain. Pain is bad. Can you say Pahhhhhh uhhhhhn? I knew you could.Anyways, I eventually arrived at my home. I quickly climbed back up on my roof. I saw the door. I ran towards it and openned it. I slowly looked inside and noticed Satan sitting on the toilet. "Sorry wrong house" I said with a goofy grin. Satan was not amused. To say that he was angry would be an understatement. " How much did ya see?" he asked with an evil hiss. "Not much" I replied hoping to escape with my life. He took this as an insult." Prepare to meet thy doom" he happily stated with a goofier grin than my own. I couldn't help but laugh I mean who could?I sure as heck couldn't. Satan was furious. I told him to quit playing around. He was so freaking mad he spit coals. I picked them up and put them in my mouth and spit them right back at him. He ripped me in half. As I laid there watching my legs involuntarily kick, I wondered if I had gone too far in spitting coals at Satan himself. Perhaps I had. I asked my "good pal" Satan to sew me back together. He happily obliged. Aftterwards, he ripped me back apart again. then he sewed me back together again. This pattern continued for the next 6 hours before I finally grew weary of Satan's little games. I told him to stop it. He pulled the arms off my torso and beat me with them. He beat me with my arms not my torso. Keep this in mind young freak. I had seen a freak before. A freak lived next door to me. He was one of those odd types that raped his cat in his spare time. You know the type. They eat hamster feces because it "improves their health". I had seen a man eat hamster feces before. He puked up his entire digestive tract and then some. It was, in a word, impressive. Oh, I almost forgot, Satan continued beating me until the bruises on my face outnumbered the "clean spots" Satan was more powerful than I had ever imagined that he would be.

PART FIVE

I had doen the ultimate crime. I had broke into Satan's bathroom. I was going to pay for this dearly possibly even with my life. I was ready to do so, if necessary. At this point, Satan taped me to his wall and proceeded to urinate on me.I did not enjoy this little delay. He seemed to however, I quickly put on a giant mouse costume. This scared the living crap out of Satan.He ran in fear of the mouse that he thought I was. I ran in fear of the mouse I thought I was.I ran and ran and ran. I figured since I'd gone this far, I might as well keep right on running. When I got tired, I slept . When I had to .....you know I went.We was like peas and carrots after that, Satan and me. Satan always said"Life is like a box of souls you never know who you gonna get" Me and Satan became good friends despite the fact that he had tried to end my life on several nonconsecutive occasions. In fact, He still tried to end my life every now and then. It was a small price to pay for such a lasting friendship. I loved him and he loved me. Not that way, you pervert. Speaking of perverts, I kept a pervert in my aquarium to play with my fishes and little froggiepoos. Sometimes things got a bit kinky, but all in all they had fun. One of me and Satan's favorite games was pin the severed hand on my forehead. The key word here is my , for Satan wouldn't let me pin "it" on his forehead or the severed hand either. He was real good at it. He made the all pro "pin severed hands on people's forehead's team" Life was good. Unfortunately, however, as much fun as me and satan were having, this did not help me on my quest. I didn't know how I was going to tell Satan that I would have to leave him to find my bathroom. " I gotta leave now Satan bye!" i exclaimed. He was not a happy camper. He peeled the skin off my body with a dull butterknife and made me eat it. the butterknife not my skin. He then began to pluck each individual hair off my head and throw them into a vat of boiling oil. I had been through enough pain already. I mean, my God, how much more of this could my body take? Would I survive? Find out in the exciting conclusion....

PART SICKS ERR SIX

Back from whence you came