Saturday, May 9, 2009

Roy and The Prophet of Doom

Roy Hoggins awoke, face down in a puddle of what appeared to be used cooking a dark alley, in some sprawling urban metropolis...somewhere in the world.

As he raised his head, up out of the mess...he wiped away thick layer of the wretched goop from his brow, with the palm of his hand..."That smells just like shit!"...he exclaimed.

From across the alley, a raspy voice mumbled back..."I bet it do-hoo."
Roy took a second, to get his bearings...when trying to stand, it was much like the first steps a new born colt...wobbly.
"Where the hell am I?"...he grunted, as he looked down..."and where's my fucking pants!?"...he shouted, while massaging his felt like Louie Bellson, Buddy Rich and Tito Puente were having a 3-way crystal meth induced drum-orgy, with a bunch of crack whores...inside his skull.
"You are here...and your pants are somewhere else, that you are not." the voice shot back.
"Who the fuck are you?" Roy he continued to dig the fat from the inside of his just barely being able to make a visualization of the unknown party that was sitting directly in front of him...on the opposite side of the alley.
"I am The Prophet of Doom", the man whined, in a nazely voice...gesturing towards a button on his filthy lapel, that read..."Prophet Of Doom". The mans' overcoat was adorned with many rusty, old buttons, one read "Have a Coke and a Smile", while another read "I Like Ike"...there was also several scattered military metals.

"I bring devastation to the masses...I bring disease to the healthy...famine, pestilence and war...the whole sha-banga-rooney...I am "The Prophet of Doom!"

"What?" Roy gasped.

The shitty looking nomad, lunged forward into some half-assed, crane like karate stance...cracked Roy on top of the noggin with a big stick, that had old cd's and chicken bones tied to it...and screamed..."Obviously you are not paying attention, you milk toast piece of shit...I am "The Mighty"..."Prophet Of Doom"...and he stepped back into place.

"You son of a bitch...I ought to kill you, right here." Roy a trickle of blood ran down his forehead.

"Many have tried to kill, The Prophet Of Doom...none will succeed...I am as old as time itself"

Enraged, Roy then started to speak...and was over taken by the repugnant stench of burning human flesh. What Roy had failed to notice, was that the man was cooking what appeared to be the thigh section and adjoined knee of a human being...on a make-shift spit...over a pile of smoldering 2x4's.

"Is that a fucking leg on there?" Roy asked in disbelief.

"Maybe it is, and maybe it is not...that is for me to know...not you." The man said as he basted the chunk of flesh with a liquid, of unknown origin.

"It is, I can see the fucking femur sticking out, at that one end...where did you get that?!...who the fuck is that?!"

The man grinned a sly sort of Cheshire grin, with rotten teeth, and whispered..."One does not divulge the source of his daily bread, in a time of hardship."

Roy shook his head, which was now bleeding and pounding..."Fuck,the last thing I remember...I was doing body shots off the female patients from The Hughes-Chipman Home For The Mentally and Socially Bewildered., they must have pantsed me...and dumped me in this God forsaken alley...those slimey cunts"
The man glared at Roy, with a seemingly dead expression..."And now that you are here...I will you, what I have been appointed to do, for eons...I will destroy you...pasty-faced I destroy all humans"
The little man jumped up...charged Roy and tackled him. The two of them struggled as one...spiraling in circles...ripping and clawing at each other..."Don't fear Earthling, your demise will be over in an insignificant piss-ant." The strangers voice had now taken on a more guttural, primordial drone.
The scuffle went on for a few minutes...and then Roy kneed that bastard in the crotch...and shouted..."You fight like a girl...Prophet"

The assailant rebounded back...hit a brick wall with the back of his head. Then started to convulse...and make a noise that sounded like rats being roasted alive in a 4th of July bonfire. His eyes rolled into the back of his head...and a steady ooze of blood and some kind of green, foamy shit poured from his gaping jaw.
Roy just stood amazement..."Hmmm, that's kinda neat" he said.

The mans' head split open at the top like a clam, and then ripped down the middle his sounded like an eggshell separating...finally, the head fell off all together...and landed on the cement below with a lay there, steaming...melting into a puddle of bubbling shit.

Then, this repulsive, glistening, phallic-shaped maggot creature...came slithering up from the neck stump, of it's now deceased, former host...followed by torrents of what looked like lypo-suction fat. It was about the length of full grown human arm, from shoulder to fingertips...and reeked of sulphur.

The creature smiled at Roy...and said..."I"......"am"...... "The Prophet"......"Of Doom"..."Well played, scum."
The creature then rose up out its host...with tiny little arms...and drifted off into the sky...with a trail of black smoke and soot following it...laughing.
Completely befuddled, by the bizarre events that had just taken place...our hero, scratched his sack, and said to himself..."Fuck this!...I'm gonna find some tacos"
Uncle Roy...

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