PREFACE Everyday I rub my penis for three minutes, it's a tradition, I wear a golden mask and sing the national anthem backwards. I never cum, but oh the places I go. Meditation subjects, I find the most peaceful Meditation to be a visual one. I think about a giant machine with a crusher hammer that falls every three seconds to smash a Christian to a bloody mess. I think "one", and see the fucknummer rolling down the belt as the hammer rises, "two" see the hammer begin to fall while assfunk picks his nose "three", the hammer strikes and blood spurts everywhere. I feel three months younger afterwards.
-- Andrew McFing
Tippy Rushdale loved America like the knob of his penis. He would gladly kill over and over again anyone his sacred country told him to. He also loved Dawn Lotus, a mail order bride from Thailand. He could not pronounce her name so he had it legally changed to Dawn which sounded more American anyway. When America started its war on terrorism Tippy signed up. He couldn't wait to kill as many of them bastards as he could while peeing on their country. Love and war go together like booze and drinking and soon he was on his way, tired out from video taped marathon sex with his eighteen year old non-English speaking bride. He bought enough cheap microwave food and ramen noodles for her to live like a queen while he was gone. She was living much better than she did back home anyway.
Ah the pleasures of war, his first duty was guarding prisoners in a Latin American camp. The location of these people was secret. Although most of these prisoners were obviously from Uglavaria, one of the three countries the USA was currently invading, but about forty of them were from America. So many fucking traitors, he kicked them whenever he got the chance, and he got quite good at spitting on them too. Three weeks into this he got to shoot his first man. A journalist from Peru was trying to line up some photos of the nightly prisoner beatings. Tippy blasted a round into his chest and another into his arm. The man lived after surgery in the crude medical center of this complex, so the man became a indefinite resident here in Cell 342b. Tippy loved his job, it was kinda slow and boring at times , but kicking the prisoners and beating them up was a great release. It made him love Dawn all that much more, and love Jesus too. He had taught Dawn how to say Jesus, but that was as far into Christianity he had got with her so far. Dawn was so cute, and gave such groovy head, he missed her when he wasn't mounting a local whore. Some of the local whores were pretty good at cock sucking.
Then he was called out to active duty in Iraq. He felt sure he would get to kill many non-Christians and he was so excited he forgot all about Dawn back home for awhile. Meanwhile Dawn met Tippy's neighbor Bock Carter. These round eyes tended to look alike and she mistook Bock for her husband. She walked up to him smiling a charming smile. Bock smiled back. She took his hand and led him inside her home, to the bedroom where she went down on her knees and gave him a luscious blow job and had him exploding into her mouth, she lapped up all the cum while looking him in the eye. "Jesus", Dawn said.
What makes America great? Homegrown tomatoes, and sacrificing children to The Tomato God. Making drugs illegal and then shipping them into the states to sell them on the streets makes America great. Tea bagging your buddy while he sleeps and taking a picture is what makes America great. Big trucks that block the view of others on the road makes America great. The power of modern video cameras makes America great, no one shits and wipes unrecorded now, unless it's done in a few select areas of American wilderness. Making others obey God makes this country great, and if you do so then you can let a few rules slide on your side. Prayer in school to Jesus and no other makes America even greater.
But what weakens America? The mongrel races not knowing they're places, and Reproducing with decent white women, that and nude swimmin after dark at the pool in the park. Hip hop and body piercings ruin America.
WHAT WE SHOULD DO ABOUT IT:
Goddess bless America long may she dominate the world with endless missiles and explosives, long may we spill blood for the profit of the rich elite. Drain it all, own it all, throw it all away.
A nuclear war or some other disaster far away , like Africa or Asia. There are high radiation levels. Everyone is dying , the whole human race. Everyone gets into promiscuous sex. No need for birth control, everyone is sterile. No worries about sexual disease, we are all dying anyway. I smoke lots of drugs and I go around gathering items for my Great Library of the Dead. Crates of DVD's taken from the smoking ruins of the Golden Buy store. A few visits to the library with a wheel barrow, a lot of missing stuff already, including it's entire occult section. A man dressed in black with long brown hair was wheeling the books out as I entered. I stop outside the library to vomit some blood, more drugs and I'm on my way again.
At work again, 12 hours a day slaving for the man. Blank had been at it for five hours, and it was time for a fifteen minute break. You drag your self to the dimly lit breakroom. There your pale burned out co-workers suck synth-coffee like their life depends on it. You slip some credits into the grimy vending machine. Paint chips, somewhat stale, You chew them down,and grease it with a swig of imported water. seven hours left, you think. You light a cigarette, pale purple smoke floats from it. Bland chatter all around you , bland grey talk from burned out humans sucking smoke and synth caffine down. You sit there and think about just how fast that fifteen minute break goes by , but you have only began to think of it when break is over and you march tiredly back to work.
A man died today on the job. He got his shirt caught in the teeth of one of those giant cogs that work thier way accross the factory. It just sorta sucked him up and ripped him apart. Blank was one of several put on mop duty. A touring exec was coming in about forty minutes to tour the factory and the boss did'nt want any blood or twitching meat chunks left visable. Normally Blank got to have a lunch break after being there eight hours , the lunch break being the last break of the day. But do to the tour lunch was cancelled that day and everyone worked right through. The tour exec , one Kirby Hestle , was the company president's second son. He was a real arrogent asshole. He had all the employees gather together at the end of their shift and fired a couple of them becuase he didn't like their looks. Jack Ponpoblid was fired, and Ponpoblid was Blank's energy powder contact. Dammit.
After ten hours of hard core work there was an aanouncement that the employees were all to gather in the dim now dis-used room by the cog room where Blank's co worker died. When all hundred thirty eight grey employees had gathered in this room , their supervisor came in with four burly security men. The Supervisor said that he had a short list of people who had been caught on camera taking long breaks. Blank's name came up first , he had taken an extra 38 seconds break yesterday. The security men surrounded Blank, he tried to break free of them but they overpowered him. The supervisor worrked him over with a series of gut punches, when released Blank slumped to the ground with the wind knocked out of him. Four more employees were punished during this session. Then everyone was ordered back to work.
After eleven and a half hours of work Blank was nearly too tired too stand and the boss got on the P A system and said that they were behind on thier work today do to having to have a disapline session and everyone was going to have to work a extra forty five minutes for free.
Blank's co-workers shot him hatefull glances. As he moved heavy parts around he often heard "Asshole!" , and other names behind his back. At the worst point somebody pushed him from behind while he had an armload of heavy steel parts. He fell with a clammor and somebody else said "Smooth move exlax." Blank picked up a long piece of metal that could be used as a club , he look about him in a seething rage. Every one looked innoscent as they backed up. Blank through the weapon down and stormed off. Finally quitting time came , Skipp Blank found one of his tires had it's air let out and was flat. He had a spare but he was too tired to change it. He crawled into his car , locked the door and fell into a deep sleep. He woke up late the next afternoon. Four hours till work he thought bitterly.
Annie Miles hurried to her next class, Dead Sea Scrolls Theory. She didn't want to take it , but it was mandatory to get a degree. New law, point of light number 472. Professer Orville Fudpacker the 3rd was a deeply religous man who has served a one year prison term for killing street people to make leather for his hand crafted bibles.
The first day was stressful. Fudpacker browbeat the class putting his face close to everybody's heads to smell their thoughts. One student, Tom Monk, was thrown out violently by Fudpacker. Orville said he was a homosexual. He told Annie to wait till after class. She waited, wandering what was up. Alone with her in his office, he activated a hidden camera , and toyed with the head of his penis , hidden from view. Annie glanced nervously around the wall, ceiling, and floor of mirrored tile. Good thing I'm not wearing a dress , she thought. She could see reflections of herself at every angle repeated along the walls, weird. He was holding a file on her, it appeared to be around two hundred pages thick. She wondered how much information was in there. "I read that you're majoring in Vegetable Psychology".
"Yes, from there I will rise to my career goal, Vegetable Metaphysics" , she said proudly.
"Well if you want that degree you're gonna have to undress for me".
"What?" , she said shocked.
"You heard me, remember your career is in my hands". His penis was in his hands to. She sobbed and pulled off her top, her breasts were tiny, small pale nipples. His hand pulled up and squeezed, pulled down and relaxed. She undid her jeans and slid them down. Blue panties, scanty and sexy. She wiggled solemnly out of them. His hand pumped harder while he slid his desk aside. "Look at my penis! Look Look!" , he cheered stroking faster now , the veins in his neck bulging out. She looked at it repeating the ninteys mantra , "Think about the money. Think about the money". Luckily for Annie, Fudpacker quickly spurted and lost all interest in her.
Still stoned, three days straight. Deric Moolman husks off to sleep in a dizzy cone of infinant buzz. That night he has yet another end of the world dream:
Life alone in a big house. Some unclear thing has destroyed everyone else in the area , vary likely the entire world. Deric can't leave the house or he will die too. Then hundreds of wasps began to fly about the house. He is consumed by rage, being stuck in this house full of wasps. He sees that the floor is covered with sand. He throws handfulls of sand at the wasps, trying to knock them to the ground so he can grind crush then underfoot. Already they are landing on him, crawling up and down his coat, looking for a soft spot to sting. He brushes them off with a grunt of revultion.
Deric offers a quick prayer to his own feverish thoughts
Deric gets a ride with Paul Grant and marc frosthing Jr. to a special lubricant store.but it was now a fried pumpkin rinds,and used hairbrush store.It seemed to change once a month or so.They drove by it one drunken reeling night and saw it offered frozen foods made from unnamed animals already hunted into extinction in the rain forests before scientists ever got a chance to discover them. Deric bought some tuber moth crackers, and mushrooms that cure cancer,and give you harder firmer erections.This became an obsession for Deric He would save up all month and go to the same location to see what was there this time....
October saw the building house a halloween store. Deric spent lots of his cash there, coming back daily untill it was replaced by a grab bag store. For twenty dollers you get a heavily taped up brown box with unknown contents. When Deric went home and opened it, here is what he found inside:
Donna Munt rode accross the desert on a modified horse. Cyborg enhancements made it's legs faster and stronger. She chewed on a kanna plant as she rode, a pleasant buzz numbing away her inner tormoil a little. She also swigged from the solar powered cooler canteen strapped to her shapely hip. The vision of her husbands murder flashed through her mind like a salvia loop. It was on a cloudy day , a day that promised rain but never delivered. She and her husband , Peter were working the fields , harvesting the rainbow flowers of a local plant, to be sent to a local perfume company for extraction of it's intoxicating scent. Perfume that gives a buzz, attracts men , a relieves minor headaches. A hot humid day, Donna took her shirt off and worked in jeans and a transparent red bra. Peter was horny as hell from the flowers they worked with and he kept trying to get on her , feeling her breasts, trying to kiss her. "Wait till we have this harvest in honey" , she told him. "Then we need to harvest me!" , he said rubbing a hand accross his own crotch. "Everything in it's do time" , she told him with a wink. She felt so good at that moment , the fumes from the petals tickleing her recepters. "Very touching" , said a gruff voice from behind the couple. They whirled and faced four gangsters dressed in black ninja outfits with chain mail armor and cowboy hats. "Yeah thats pretty fuckin sweet!" , said another gangster , the one with the ivory and tortoise stone incrusted eye patch. "Makes me want to fuck her" , observed the ganster with the light blue skin and unicorn tattooe on his face. The last gangster said nothing , he just pulled out a viberating knife. Peter yelled "You fucks better just back off!". "You gonna stop us pussy?" , said the first gangster as he pulled out a automatically heating knife , it was quickly becoming red hot. Peter rushed forwards and gave the first gangster a hard headbutt , the man dropped his blade and fell to the ground holding his head.
With the burning heat comes a throbbing madness to Sergeo Jones. Three weeks of over one hundred degree hell. Today the heat index was 115. His lawn was dead a yellow-brown. As where the yards of his neighbors. His birdbath had an automatic refill function and the birds had wars over it. Currently three black crows stood on it's ledge , guarding over their kingdom. A dead and dried sparrow lay at the foot of the pool , so far the only direct fatally from these bird wars. From behind him the radio was playing the morning news. The government has made accusing a catholic priest of child molestation illegal , with a punishment of fines or short jail time. This is to curb the many false lawsuits and charges brought on the church by dangerous heratics. "Thank Jesus for uniting church and state" , Sergeo said sarcastically. The amped use of electricity was causeing bills to go up while blackouts occured at least once a week. Houses left with no power. Old people and ill people dieing in thier homes
Jim Monvac was an American ex patriot living in Uglavaria. He went there as part of a travaling salesman convention. He was offering refrigerator magnets that looked like nuns , herbal mops , and holy bible/beer coolers. Some poor kid with a pickle shaped nose lifted his wallet as he stumbled drunkenly down the street during their annual Ugla-fest. He chased the brat past customed partyers but he escaped with his pass port and his plane ticket home. He had been here every since. Stuck in Uglavaria , where the secret police wake you up a night sometimes by kicking in your neighbor's door and dragging him away never to be seen again. Where there are long lines for moldy bread while government agents dine on steak and rare herbs. The only third world Europian country perhaps. Jim got a job translating American newspapers for the security branch of the government. This poor country provided few distractions , wasted countryside , bombed and burned black from many wars and revolutions. Their were plenty of prostitutes though , most ungainly looking and boney. Their was Uglavarian vrosh , a heavy bitter drink. Jim drank it and smoked the old stale cigerettes available at the people's market. The people's market was were you spent your government credits for food and barter trade material. Long ago Jim sold all his American clothes , for a nice price. The clothes bought him a week's worth of better food , four visits to prostitutes , and a gallon of Uglavarian vrosh.
A year went by , Jim spent what time he could drinking smoking and whoring. Lots of blow jobs , while he closed his eyes and thought about girls he used to know back home...Now Ugla-fest was drawing near and the excitment was in the air. Here where laws you don't even know of can get you put to death the laws and morals where always relaxed a lot at this time. Sometimes there was public nudity or even sex , open drunkeness , normally forbidden music and foreign culture allowed to public display. A frolicking wierd carnival. Jim hated his job more each day , it really sucked. His eyes were strained from the dim dungeon he worked in. Back home in America he could live much more large with a part time job at McDonalds. Although he couldn't afford American prostitutes with that kind of income. He had been saving up for six months. He did this by skipping three meals a week , and here lately he had been staying sober. He praticed a bastardized form of meditation to get through the sad slow sober days. All this was for Ugla-fest. The year long blow out would be his holy grail. In the three last weeks before the fest he even gave up his weekly visit to a whore. Saving up he was.
Now it was friday , and ugla-fest starts tommorow morning! Jim broke into a few grins at work , so did most of his ghostly co-workers. After work he bought some vrosh , four bottles each a happy half day's worth of drunken stumbles. He washed himself up as best he could in the dim light of the sink , the pipes spurting up light red water. To bed early that night. Feverishly horny dreams that night , of beautifull women parading naked. Of wine sweeter than stevia herb flowing into any waving cup. In his dream everything is red hazed and he stumbles into an alley to throw up. There is a Uglavarian police man there pissing out spurts of light red piss from his huge and reptillian penis. Some how he has managed to puke on the officer , the puke looks like bubbling human skin. The nazi cop draws his rusty luger and shoots.
Jim bolted awake from the dream. He got out of bed naked and walked to his window. It overlooked a sun dial. It was almosts seven a m . The parade starts in an hour. Jim got dressed and took extra time trying to look good. He cooked some bacon and and ate a couple donuts he had bought a couple days ago. Eight minutes before the parade's start he headed outside. Lots of people were gathering already. He saw his fourth favorite prostistute heading for the parade and gave her a curt nod. Kids swept threw the people selling small wooden flasks of Uglavarian vrosh , but Jim had brought a bottle of his own along and was already nurseing it gently. A couple of others were also drinking openly but most would wait till noon for the start ot the day's buzz. Trumpets sounded down the block , it was the Uglavarian national anthum and the people began clapping and cheering. Soon four freaky looking tanks drove downt he center the street followed by two hundred soldiers marching in time to the bass drummers beats.The crowd programmed by years of fear stood up tall and clapped thier hands raw at the procession. Due to terrorist threats Ugla-man himself did not appear in the parade , the first he had missed in seven years. As the heavy marchers faded down the street the rest of the parade began. The black candy pumpkin was first. Uglavarien legands spoke of the black candy pumpkin as a giant jet black horse drawn pumpkin from which a horrible monster tossed children black candys. The children must look away from the beast to be safe from not being eaten by it some time later, maybe days , maybe years.
Next came a float completly covered in the green brown flowers of the Uglavarian poppy. A commen plant here that was whipped out as a nasty weed nearly everywhere else in europe do to it's muscous like appearance and it's sweet rotten scent. Not a true poppy , but with mildly opiate like chemicals , that make one feel floaty , then one pukes. Extracts of this plant were sold on the black market , one of the few drugs aviailable in the country , which was odd because Uglavaria is well known for it's state sponsered drug labs. But the fearless leader has managed to mostly keep these substances out of the hands of the people.
Many foreingers were among the crowd. Swigging Vrosh and taking pics. They all seemed like rich royalty to the commoners. Jim worked his way closer to the front of the cheering crowd. Next came a mink float , the thing was all of furr , sexy women by Uglavarian standards modeled and posed on it.. One of the girls on the float was Verga , he fucked he once for a third week's pay.
"Hey would you like a hit off of this?" , a voice asks from behind him. Jim turns to see an American passing a joint to him.
"Wow! A joint!" , Jim told the man as he accepted the thing. It was delicous! Like tasting America.
"You look like an American but your dressed like a native" , the man told him. Rolland told him how he ended up stranded here in Uglavaria. "You should see America now Jim" , the man said" Pot is legal now and girls can legally be in public topless , mainly it's the teen ones you'll see in malls and such" , the man lied. The joint slowly shortened as Jim felt a golden body high , a tingleing roar. A feeling like he could feel everything in a feild ten feet around him.
"I miss America" , Jim told the man.
"I think maybe we can work something out to help you get back home" , the man told Jim , with shark like look crossing his face a for a moment.
"How so" , Jim asked him , a bit suspicous.
"I work for the American government" , the man confided quietly to JIm.
Down the street parade went some kid sized tanks with some grade school aged boys driving them and marching along side with short rifles. This band of fighters actually has seen combat action , Ugla man has no shame. "We would like to have bugs implanted in government buildings , and would like a certain spin on how you translate American newspapers for them" , the man told Jim. JIm knew then that this was no chance meeting.
"And this will get me back home?" , Jim asked him.
"Yes , thats the deal."
"This is a totalaterrian country , what protection would I have if things go wrong?"
"You have my personal guarantee that our special forces will pull you out of here if your life is in danger" , said the man whose name Jim did not know.
"Ok then , I'll do it if you throw another joint into the bargen". The pulled out another joint and lit it. The man then fished out a thick manilla envelope.
"This will get you started , it's information spins for you to translate and four tiny bugs for you to place in places specified in the included instrucions.
"You finish that joint ,I've got to move on , we can't be seen together too much you know". The man quickly disapeared in the crowd. Jim had never felt so high in his life. He just stood there as the parade melted by , Paranoia and hope circleing his thoughts. A float drifted by , purple on red colors , some old folklore myth being re-inacted by customed dancers. Jim stared and felt like he could just close his eyes and wake up at home. Jim opened his eyes and watched the Castle Uglavaria float roll by. This was the most expensive float , a detailed replica of the real castle , before such modornizations such as anti-aircraft missiles and others. Jim began drinking the vrosh , and the buzz grew heavier , filling him with a near delerium. When possible Jim brushed his crotch up against girls in the crowd " Pardon me". His penis enjoyed this very much. He kept the roach of the second joint for later , and went on drinking the vrosh. By late afternoon Jim was trashed , by evening his was still stumbling about , falling constantly , openly gropeing girls and he even through a brick into a police wagan's windshield. The brick just bounced off. He stumbled into the thick crowd and managed to not be scene. The night when on as a long series of crazy anti-social acts all gotten away with. It was a crazy night all over the city. Fires were started , cars wrecked. One small riot was put down by heat seeking rubber bullets.
Jim woke up in his bed three p m the next day. His head raged hard , his throat felt dry and parched. Nausea flowed threw him to top it off. He pissed a alarming amount of foul smelling fluid and then poured some luke warm tap water from the sink. He drank four glasses while his head felt like it was expanding and contracting painfully to his heart beat. He remembered the roach from the night before and fished it out. He hadn't noticed the last night but there was some kinda white powder mixed in with the spongey fragrant weed. Bonus! , he thought as he lit it up and smoked down to a burned scrap of paper. His headache began to ease up. He took a shower , and the greenish grey water felt good on his skin for once. The hangover had gone down to a distant throb. He fished a fresh bottle of vrosh out of his hideing place and brought it outside with him. A cold sun today , Jim began to swig on the vrosh , hopeing to kill the rest of his hangover. The crowd was starting out pretty melow this afternoon , probaly most were as hung over Jim. The street corners mostly had local musicans playing soft traditional tunes like "Drown my baby in the river" , and "Maybe next war". Jim tipped a accordian player by filling his cup with vrosh , the man smiled happily and started another round of umpa music. Jim wandered the scene swigging the vrish and getting drunker and drunker. Soon he ended up in full black oiut mode , He woke up in the ditch the next morning. Slightly beten up and missing his money. During Uglafest he only kept enough cash on him to get a big drunk on , so at least he had more funds at home. Jim dragged his sorry sore ass home , a long shower and then he lay in bed for hours , getting up once to vomit. The day was a waste , with Jim feeling too sick to do much but review the manilla envelope that the spy had given him. He studied where he was to put the bugs and the mis-interpatations when he went back to work. He took two days off and he had to be back tommorow , working in that dark dungeon when the party outside blazed on without him. Today he felt frustrated , he vowed to buy a blow job at the fest to drain out his tensions. Jim slept most the day he finally got up at two a m. He felt very nervous and swigged a couple shots of vrosh to calm his hands. He tired to look innoscent into the mirror as he combed his hair and shaved. One more shot a vrosh and he headed off to work. He went into the boss's office but the stern old man was not in , so Jim left a micro-bug clinging to the wall like a flea's eye. The next one in he left in the central work area , where a crew of eight worked on keeping the truth from the Uglavarian people. He also started on his mis translations and the whole thing creeped him out. By the time it was clock out time he had planted two more bugs and only had one left to plant.
As soon as he got home Jim broke out the vrosh and got wasted. Stumble drunk before he even left his home for the night's Ugla-fest. He watched the kids in midevel custums jousting each other with foam weapons and the audience cheered. One kid ended up with a broken leg from being knocked off his nerf horse. Jim felt as horny as he was drunk and he began looking for a blow job for hire. He knew where to go , but so many of them were taken by the drunken crowd , he finally hooked up with a high school girl , a little pudgey but with warm glowing skin. They crept away to a little occupied space and Jim undid his lust tube. It erected in her young hand. He sqeezed a soft gushy breast as she went down to her knees and began licking his balls , tickleing her way up to his penis head and back , then taking him into her hot mouth. Jim tipped back his vrosh and the act took a long time in his drunken state. Her mouth hugged his cock with a love his life seemed normally so empty of , her teeth rubbed sometimes painfully , she pulled it out here and there to lick and kiss it while stareing him in the eyes. Finally Jim came while reaching into her blouse and rubbing her braless nipples. A good girl and cheap to! Now that his tensions had been drained away he could easily slip into the sing along version of the Uglavarian anthum will enjoyment and a still rageing drunken buzz. Jim was an hour late for work the next day.
At three he was called to the bose's office. A scary thing in Uglavaria , if you haven't been spying , but if you have a horrorfying thing. He was cold sober to , and nervous as hell. He had another of those bugs on him and he was going to where he was supposed to put it. He walked past the two armed guards who checked his employee badge with scanners and waved him on. Jim slowly walked into the vast sprawling office , he felt as if he opened his mouth to speak the boss would hear his pounding heart. Down the long hall covered by many video moniters to a vast desk surrounded by four burly armed guards. The boss eyed him coldly and said "Sit down mr. Monvac." Jim sat down and let the tiny bug fall from his hand onto the chair.
"Late mr. Monvac? , just cause it's Ugla-fest time don't mean we want our employees to go on drunken binges and show up for work late. To make up for lost time you get to work three extra hours today for free , good day mr. Montac" , the boss waved for Jim to leave.
"Yes sir" , Jim told the powerfull man as he departed. His voice went far threw wireless beams to be intercepted by American agents that gave themselves thumbs ups. Jim worked his extra hours and it have him enough time to finish the American spy's requests. I should be home free now , I will just meet him at the fest and be on my way to freedom , Jim thought.
A quick clean up , a few shots of vrosh , and Jim walked his tired self down to the fest. Jim brought a full bottle of vrosh with him . leaveing the two thirds empty one at home. He drank too heavy as he searched the crowd for his American contact. Meanwhile his contact and his contact's support party where all on thier way back to America , haveing gotten what they wanted from Jim , they left him to sink or swim on his own. Still Jim drank and wandered the crowd ,till it got so late he didn't dare try to sleep for fear of being late to work. He hit the coffee houses at five a m and began sucking up round after round. One placed even sold coffee laced with ephidrene , he drank three of them and was finaly energized and twitchy. He hung out and talked to some early morning locals untill it was time to go to work. He was ninety percent sober and he felt wide awake. It reminded Jim of a long ago past in America when he used to snort coke bumps in the bathroom and return to work feeling feeling. So long ago , but not so far away!
When Jim arrived for work ten minutes early he sensed a certain tension in the air. It kinda made him nervous so he went to the men's room and pulled out his flask. Four shots and he was at his desk. Jim got called into the bosses office two hours later. He froze when the cold voice over the p a told him to go to that office. Acid refluxed instantly in his stomach and he threw up into his trash can. His legs shook as he drew nearer to the office. Time seemed to slow down as his brain began to process data at a much higher rate , it was kinda like the bad acid trips he had before giveing up that drug. Guards parted to let him in like they knew he personally was comeing and expected him , this is bad , this is very bad he thought. HIs boss was not in the office , instead six armed guards with thier guns trained on him and two men he did not know but who wore the uniform of the Uglavarian high police , the c i a of Uglavaria. Jim nearly collasped where he stood.
"Sit down!" , yelled the officer , and Jim melted into the hard wooden chair. "Tell me Jim Monvac , is something buging you?"
"Gulp" , stated Jim Monvac.
"Let me introduce myself , I am officer Cold ConSheck of Uglavarian high police , the man beside is Helmshif Von Spinter , a underling of mine that does bug checks in sensitive areas. Seems to be a problem on this routine check ,Helmshif found this. The officer held out a baggie containing a familiar tiny speck. Jim turned completly pale. The guards moved in on him and he was too week to do anything but watch them. Rough hands gripped him and hoisted him up painfully. He was marched out of the office building as his co workers looked on. A police apc sytle vehicles was parked outside , Jim was thrown inside the cage and they were off. He wandered if the Americans were really going to free him , where were they before this went down? He had felt alone the whole time here in Uglavaria , but never as alone as now. Jim was taken to the notorous People's hospital , where the basement provided the state with torture devices. He had heard rumers of it now he saw it for real. Dried blood crusted here and there. Many tiny cells over looked the chamer. Jim was stripped naked and put in one. He was left there for sixteen hours in cold darkness , only a tiny red light above the far away stairway door gave any glow at all. He huddled in the corner the whole time , fear gnawing at him , he threw up twice. Then came the interview , Cold ConSheck and four burley assistants asked a long series of questions while burning him with cigerettes , probeing his with a biteing rat , sticking rusty needles under his fingernails and many slaps kicks and punches. This abusive routine followed for days , with new tortures thrown in daily to made it more excieing for ConSheck. Jim had told all he knew the first day. They were done with him after seven days of torture. He was then chained up and escorted out to another one of those Uglavarian police a p c's. They took him to a stage in the Uglafest area. He was forcebly led onto the stage as a man in a suit and tie annouched his crimes to the jeering crowd. Jim was strapped to a wooden table with blood stains al over it. Eighty feet above him was a heavy metal wedge with long spikes comeing from it. Jim screamed in terror when he saw it. The man asked for a volunteer from the audience to flick the switch. A father in the crowd had his seven year old daughter on his shoulders and the man choose her. She pulled the lever and released the wedge , as Jim screamed the thing impaled him and ripped him apart as it flattened the pieces.
the end
The cosmic vending machine whirled faster and faster as it passed between worlds, the blue fire surrounding it was as cold as light. It landed softly in the backyard of one Peter Satvom. Satvom discovered it the afternoon of the next day when he went outside to pee in his backyard. He froze there stareing in disbelief, how the fuck did it get there, he wandered. He had a six foot privacy fence, and the only way to the backyard was through his back door. He walked around it, it was lit up, but it had no plug in, apparantly it runs off batterys he assumed. Closer inspection made in realize that the writeing on it was in some other language, and the things inside the machine where really bizarre. toy insects, with colorfull spines hung from the hooks, a finger, looks just like a real human finger hung from another hook.