Translate:

42. The Hammer of God.

Translate:

Not available.

Translate:

Not available.

Translate:

39. A Glorious Battle between Foes.

“With her ammunition depleted, Lars’s righteous arm released the finely made, steel stained, American contraption. It fell upon a panicked attendee, which in turn caused his delicate head to implode. Hovering forth aggressively, claws outstretched towards the assailant’s throat, her appendage flew.”

Empowered with rage and desire the villain WaffleIron leapt and caught the rattling, coarse arm from mid-flight. With wild-eyed force and charisma, the creature pursed his lips as he brought Lars’s severed stub to his manic face. The spirit of Lars Precious wrestles continuously on. Within the BEAST’s hands, two smoldering grenades ARE SEEN!

The SharkTooth and Fission projectile are introduced to each other.

Displayed across the crystal screen you witness a mighty explosion, the hammer of God!

Translate:

38. Lars Precious versus WAFFLEiron.

“The spiritually possessed limb of Lars’s angry, machine gun firing attack flew at her target.”

“Now, the M-1000A-3 Carbine is a very multifaceted weapon as previously mentioned. It fires not only bullets, but also small arms fission grenades. And that’s exactly what she fired next, for bullets where not enough!”

“Through the air the bomb flew towards the laughing, rowdy hooligan.”

“Again, the projectile bounces from his surrounding dark aura deflecting it into an upward direction. It’s new trajectory… a direct path aimed at our national symbol and pride, the historic Wtx-Mark-1211 SharkTooth-Thermonuclear Warhead! The stately stage ornament held honorably behind every Presidential Pulpit since time immemorial.”

Translate:

“A grenade tossed by the villain WaffleIron tears through her beautiful parents, wrecking her father and wounding her mother. Dazed and bleeding, the mother was then engulfed by a rabble of horny, teen soldiers. Stunned, shocked, Lars yelps out in sadness and anger.”

“She turned to the visage of her manipulator and saw the horror of his ways. Realizing the harm that she has caused in his name her eyes began to water and swell. Facing this grenade-throwing defiler, she raised her broken fist spouting out these hard-earned words, ‘I command ye stop!’”

“Out of nowhere, the dolled up assaulteer known as WaffleIron pulls out a FIM-9300 Thumb-eye Bazooka. It is a potent and powerful weapon.”

“He aimed it laughing in an aerosol induced haze.”

“Then he fired it directly into the belly of the young, mislead Precious youth.”

“Before being torn apart by one of this Country’s many well designed weapons, she utters the word, ‘What?’”
The feelings you feel are indescribable.

“Looking over his orchestra of madness, WaffleIron reverted to a primal state. He stood before the murderous scene drooling, unable to form the construction of mortal man’s tongue. He gurgled and laughed.”

“Is this the end, my friend? Is this the end of it all?”

“The answer… NO! For glory happened that day! A glowing bird was seen amongst the chaos, that bird… none other than the heavenly possessed severed arm from the blown apart body of Lars Precious. In her heavenly possessed hand, she held her old crutch, the M-1000A-3 Carbine. Her angry spirit pulled upon the trigger firing at the monsterous WaffleIron.”

“An aura of evil surrounded the villain deflecting the bullets assaulting him.”

Translate:

A spotlight appears revealing the family inside the chaos. The actress playing the part of the defiled girl’s mother exclaimed, “Larsey!” The father, emotionally shook, pronounces “my daughter.”

“A change occurred in the chest of Lars Precious. A heart misaligned is adjusted, straightened and corrected. Tears poured from Lars’s beaten eyes. Towards each other, they moved, in a glorious reunion of family and then, suddenly… BOOM!”

37. Divine transformation to Lars Precious.

Translate:

“The carnal craving defensive guard then arrived upon the scene raping every man, woman, and child they came across. This occurred as powerful grenades exploded throughout the auditorium of death, releasing colorful streams of violence.”

“Behind the plundering horde, the crippled steps of Lars Precious followed.”

“Looking at the carnage before her, a creeping smile cracked her face… but then, within the panicked masses, a familiar couple is seen. Her mind reels, ‘who are these… STRANGERS?’ Then it strikes her.”

“Realizing what she sees, her mouth first whispers out ‘Mommy’, then ‘Daddy.’”

“There they were; her beautiful parents, Bob Walter and Susan Sunflower Precious.”

36. Recognition of identity resulting in transformation.

Translate:

35. A massacre and slaughter of human principle.

Translate:

You watch the horror on screen.

“Into the applauding audience the grenades landed. The unsuspecting citizenry looked down upon the ticking apple shaped mechanisms that laid at their feet.”

“An EXPLOSION… again, another EXPLOSION… AND ANOTHER, AND ANOTHER, AND ANOTHER!”

“To the warped mind of WaffleIron’s polymer fume filled skull, a vision of euphoria appeared before him. A psychedelic kaleidoscope of flowers and rainbows poured forth from the busted limbs of America’s finest citizenry; sprite filled, and with pink elephants.”

The world turns upside down before you.

34. Victory against the masses.

Translate:

32. The President succumbs to the power of WAFFLEiron.

“‘This is all you want’ thought the President; ‘this is all you ask for to end this madness?’ he pondered.”

“…and, in our darkest hour, the wallet was given up. This was done in hope of bringing the incident to a close, but the doors did not close… further they opened.”

“WaffleIron jumped up in gleeful, hate-filled pride lifting the wallet up as a vile trophy. Then, tossing it aside, he opened the case containing the Islamic grenades.”

“The observing citizenry had, absolutely, no clue about what to make of this massively violent act. There they sat, and out of stress, they collectively searched for the appropriate response. One after another, they did what only they knew how to do, what they were trained to do; they began to clap. Yes, they clapped, off key, but clapping none the less.”

Translate:

31. WAFFLEiron versus The President.

“‘We can settle this as civilized men, sir.’ Said the President attempting to speak reason where no reason could possibly be found. He was an idealist, this was one of the many reasons America loved him so darn much,” said the narrator.

“Pummeled by fist, upon fist, upon fist he tried rationalizing with the vicious beast. The discussion continued until WaffleIron uttered a single phrase, “Give me your expletive wallet you expletive expletive.” The narrator paused.

Horribly shocked, your eyes shutter back and forth trying to make sense of what you are hearing. Luckily, you realized your astute host forced the children of America to bed protecting them from this program’s life scarring report.

Translate:

30. And WAFFLEiron introduces himself to our President.

“How could it be possible to have the brazenness to do an act of such evil? Surely, he must have had goose bumps and stomach flies assailing him. The answer is YES! He nearly, most likely, lost his courage to fulfill this heinous plan… but with a bit of hypoxia induced intoxication from sniffing massive quantities of glue and eating delicious American made tater tots… courage was artificially mustered!”

Ashamed at the criminal’s dependency you continue to watch.

“Pouncing upon our cultural treasure, WaffleIron manhandled our beloved President to the ground!”

Translate:

“Now, a great American philosopher once said ‘for every great man, there is a great woman standing behind him.’ This is as true today, as it was when it was first recorded into our hallowed tomes.” Pausing he looks down and then back up, “Because our Heavenly Lord knows I’d be nowhere without the kind heart of my lovely wife…supporting me… counseling me… nurturing me.”

Stopping, he raises his right hand to the right corner of the stage.

“Please welcome,” he says smiling, “The light of my life, First Lady Missus Marilyn Parker Top.”

Spotlights center on the section of the stage she is supposed to enter from to greet her admiring public. No trace of her is seen.
The President, still smiling, says again, “Please welcome the First Lady Missus Marilyn Parker Top.” …again nothing.

“…The First Lady of the United Nations, Mrs. Marilyn Parker Top!” A scuffle is heard from the side curtain. A stagehand suddenly falls down supine before the audience, knocked out and bloodied. The President looks confused, yet decidedly hopeful.

The wise narrator again commands your attention, “This is where the devil revealed himself entering into our unprepared National consciousness. This is when WaffleIron openly flaunted his vile ways. God curse him.”

WaffleIron, dabbed with make-up and adorned with a glittering blue gown, wore a dead poodle atop his head as wig. The monster began to strut across the stage. The President politely greeted him asking, “Can I help you, kind sir?”
You then notice a horrendous grenade case tugged behind the mindless brute’s strapped shoulders.

Translate:

29. A magnificent speech.

Thunderous applause strikes the auditorium as he raises his arms in victory. An imprint of a sharp smile appears stretched from cheek to Presidential cheek. Overcome with emotion he says, “Yeah… yeah!”

“And let me give a warning to our enemies.”

“We will not stop, we will not surrender, until FREEDOM is secure!” After this inspiring statement, he again says “Yeah, yeah!” to the out of control, enthusiastic crowd sitting before him.

“My administrations have stood for steadfast resolve, morals, and… well, basic common sense…and, as 149th President of the United Nations; I’d have it no other way.” Thunderous Applause yet again!

Translate:

28. President of the United Nations of America Herman Walker Top.

“Thank you, thank you…” the President said raising his mighty hand to halt the audience’s applause.

“Thank you, dear and fair citizens of the world, thank you for providing an overwhelming mandate declaring me, Herbert Josiah Walker Top…” he paused, taken by emotion, “a poor country boy raised on a struggling Kentucky Milk Farm… this World’s greatest American President in Recorded history!”

Translate:

“After sinking their smooth enameled teeth into that rotten fruit of Lars Precious’s offering, they became less than men. They became, like her, BEASTS!”

“Hungry for more, pants-less, like a pack of wolves on the hunt.”

Running through the corridors of the Hall of Justice, you see score after score of them. Lusting, craving, wanting!

“Poor Lars Precious,” on the screen her battered face is revealed, numb in expression. The old man again turns to the dark corners of the room. “Is this what you want, to be free and wild like her?”

You laugh at the notion, shaking your head side to side. Hopefully, some of the young ladies in the audience will listen to this man’s wisdom; hopefully, some shall be saved from Lars’s horrible fate.

“Lars, with the strength of a Valkyrie, pulled herself up using an M-1000A3 Carbine, an excellent multifaceted gun, as a crutch. Slowly she followed her sinful, carnal offspring out of the militaristic dining hall.”

From the television, you hear a loud voice expounded from round speakers vibrating overhead. It booms, “Will you please welcome the President of the United Nations of the American Earth.” A broad applause washes over the well-dressed Eurocentric crowd.
“The President’s speech, my friend,” says the Gentleman. You look at him briefly then return your attention to the screen. President Herbert Walker Top confidently graces to his speaking podium, akin to a mighty bald eagle soaring through a blue, cloud splattered sky. Broad shoulders, a handsome chin, he truly is THE PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED NATIONS OF AMERICA!

Well…

…awesome.

In my opinion Charles Murray is going to end up, with his arthritic World view, to become our generation’s George Bernard Shaw. So far Murray has a kinder heart than Shaw. George Bernard Shaw publicly stated:

“You must all know half a dozen people at least who are of no use in this world, who are more trouble than they are worth. Just put them there and say, ‘Sir (or madam), now, will you be kind enough to justify your existence?’ If you cannot justify your existence, if you’re not pulling your weight, …if you are not producing as much as you consume, then clearly, we cannot use the big organization of our societies for the purpose of keeping you alive. Because your life does not benefit us, and you can’t be of much use to yourself”

Shaw was a big supporter of Stalinist authoritarianism and Hitler’s Germany (He became anti-nazi when it turned out Hitler was exterminating groups based on ethnicity as opposed to productivity), so Murray really isn’t that bad. But, if you take away the part where Shaw wanted to kill people, their theories are quite similar. Murray’s solution is that those who are great need to shepherd society’s losers. What I wonder is this, how long will it take for someone in the elite to accidentally take the leap to the next logical solution once kindhearted education is not enough. What’s going to happen when people look at others as plague.

Translate:

27. Our glorious power and divine heaven.

On the screen, you see bold, white Helvetica crossing end to end stating ‘December 7th, 2176… an infamous day in History.’

“Now let us return to the lusting remains of poor Lars Precious.”

On the screen, you see the battered and bloodied body of a woman semi-conscious.

“… And what happened to the American soldiers who’ve been defiled by her wicked charms?”

Men with half-crazed eyes and drooling lips appear before you, reenacted by a variety of American youth.

“Like Eve’s apple to Adam she transformed our righteous soldiers from good… to bad.

Translate:

“Let’s pause here… so I may remind you of the splendor that was once the Hall of Justice’s Presidential Auditorium, our Nations’ premiere building of Government. It was a mighty Viking Hall… turned asunder.”

“Here, the audience corridor!” You see the audience corridor.

“Here, the President’s stage!” You see the stage.

“Here, the arena of the stage handlers!” You see the stage handlers.

“Here, the Control Room where the orchestrators and designers reside. God Bless Them!” …And you see them.

“…And finally; the source of our glorious power and divine heaven.” Your eyes are startled at the sight of our historic nuclear endowed, peace-thrusting holy missile displayed on stage for all to see. A warhead to end all Wars; it sat honorably behind the Presidential Pulpit enshrined in glory.

26. The Instruments of Society.

Translate:

“What happened next is, as I said before, unthinkable. The true beginnings of this day of National tragedy began with this deplorable deed!”

“STOMP, STOMP, STOMP, he did to every last one of those cherished four legged American marvels. Yes… yes, each and every one of them.”

“Scamp. Sally. Joseph. Mark. Ezekiel…”

“…and even… yes, even Cuppy… smeared into the First Lady’s stately room and its fine Appalachian flooring. WaffleIron is believed, again from what we can deduce from empirical evidence gathered at the scene, to have, for some odd reason, been repeatedly screaming the word ‘slippers’ as he accomplished his crime.”

“With the entire Justice Guard stuck within the Venus fly trap vagina of Lars Precious, no one remained that could save our Queen, nor the unsuspecting President.”

“The beauty of her majesty’s dresses did not escape the eye of WaffleIron. Remembering fondly his adolescent years as a Courtesan for the Communist Islamic Jihadists he raised a Col Dollabetant’ cerulean gown to his rugged chest. There, standing in the center of a bloody puddle of poodle carcass, he removed his clothes and slipped this wondrous blue dress onto his rocky, poorly endowed frame.”

“Next, he pulled down the box of disgracefully earned grenades from the ceiling vent.”

“He then prepared for what was to happen next.”

25. WAFFLEiron prepares.

Translate:

“Saying coarse words which shall not be uttered here, WallfeIron responded to the Lady’s gentle request. He moved forward. Growls and yelps stretched out from the tiny mouths of her many doll like pets. With a single backhanded slap, WaffleIron threw Our Queen and Princess into one of her many well furnished clothing racks. Cushioning her twilight fall were many a beautiful dress and gown; personally designed for her unquestioned elegance by our countries top Global designers. She laid there trapped within a forced slumber, luckily unable to witness the monster’s next unthinkable action.”

“WaffleIron stared down at the many tiny animals snipping at his horrible, hoof-like boots.”

24. Our 4-legged national treasures assaulted violently.

Translate:

23. WAFFLEiron meets the First Lady of the United Nations of America.

“Like Santa through a chimney, WaffleIron appeared before our beloved First Lady. Politely and gracefully, and with proper manner, the great woman said to her guest ‘May I help you?’”

Shaking uncontrollably, tears pour from your lacrimal ducts and nose.

If schools are privatized, what would stop a religiously biased charter school in a very religious community from being granted the control of the entire county’s school district. They could teach creationism along side evolution as equal theories, or perhaps a superior one. In fact, any type of biased political or religious belief could be taught in any way a private institution would want to teach it in. If you went to a privatized Nationalist Japanese school (assuming they exist state side) they could teach that Japan entered World War II due to unfair embargos placed on them by the United States. A National Socialist German school could teach its students that Germany began the war in Europe to free its citizens from Jewish Banker robber barons. Basically, any school could teach anything they wanted in anyway they desired.

These types of schools already exist, I don’t mean literally, there’s no schools like the ones I made up, just using them as an example. In our future World I speak of, these schools simply would have greater opportunity to instruct children in falsehoods. Now, many people believe that everything is an individual’s point of view these days, and many seem not to understand the difference between opinion, belief, and fact. But unfortunately for these people there are things such as FACTS, and facts have been and always will be tangible and real. You might not know the facts, but they exist, they are there, these things exist. Creationism is a belief, not a fact or a theory. Evolution is a theory and not a fact, but there is a mountain of factual evidence that supports this theory thoroughly.

Another problem with this push to privatize are education system is that it creates a greater divide between the rich and the poor. It would wedge these groups apart further than they already are. That old terrible notion that seems to be an American slogan at times, “You get what you pay for”, would have greater significance in our nightmarish future World. When a school is in a poor area, the student’s parents might not have to pay as much for their education, therefore they might not be provided certain benefits. That might be sports, arts, or science classes. It would be applying a Windows OS marketing model to education. You could have education home edition, professional, or Ultimate.

“Oh, you didn’t learn Spanish, well, he he, that’s because you went with the home edition, why the hell did you do that, you should of went with the Ultimate, that’s were you learn the real deal, sucker. God, your a loser.” I can almost hear the rich kids now echoing back in time at me from this future realm.

I don’t understand why we believe that Business Managers are some form of mythical Geniuses in nature and that they can solve any problem and produce miracles. The majority of Managers I have met in my life don’t know what is going on in their organization, they delegate all the real work to the people around them because they can’t really do anything, and they are granted the right to fire people. This ability to play judge, jury, and executioner gives them a euphoric high and sense of grandeur.

An example of this mythic idea we bestow on managers is (now this might get me in real trouble) how we have deified Steve Jobs. Yes, he was a brilliant salesman, and he might have been a great manager too, but you get this sense from ipeople that he somehow tinkered in a Tony Stark-esque laboratory soldering together wires and diodes creating the next sleekly designed megastar gadget. He did not make the iPod, or iPad, or even the first Apple computer (I’m pretty sure that was the Woz, I could be wrong). He had a vision of what he wanted, and that vision helped to define that company, but lets not forget the programers, industrial designers, and countless others that make these toys that we all love real.

Steve Jobs is about as good of manager we could ever hope for, but even he was over-estimated. The majority of managers fall trillion of miles below his pinnacle. Most are like the sugar water mogul John Sculley, the man that led Apple computers down the road to bankruptcy. I’m not downplaying the importance of a good manager or the role that capitalism can play in our World, but being a good manager does not qualify someone to be a President, and Capitalism does not work in every facet of our society. Certain things are socialized, and other things should be. After the Wall Street fiasco it should be apparent to everyone that capitalism works best under strong regulations. Now, that is my belief, but I feel I have a ton of solid facts, a mountain of empirical evidence if you will, to back that belief up.

Translate:

You cross your legs in hopes of hiding your pulsating interest.

“One by one she brought them down, the glee of those waiting in line for their sinful turn called out to other Capital Guardsmen over their combat radios. Smiling, with words of joy, they informed their comrades the unfortunate, anticipated news that they were about to perform coitus.”

“Soon the entire regiment was before Lars Precious, readying themselves to feast upon her bountiful bounty.”

Secretly you wish you could be a number within their ranks, or personally replace Lars Precious as their human receptacle charged with containing this youthful brigades unbridled affections. Then, with divine temperance, you set those thoughts aflame releasing them from your wholesome and pure mind.

“But what of WaffleIron, where is WaffleIron? Where is this fleshy devil?” The narrator proposes.

Pulled from the dreamlike fantasy, you remember the horror of his name.

“As Lars successfully subdued the Kingdom’s guard, WaffleIron crept his way through the Hall of Justice’s ventilation system, dragging his Islamic grenades behind him. Closer and closer he came until, pausing briefly, he looked down through a vent into a room residing below him.”

“His demonic eyes caught the glimpse of none other than the President’s Wife preparing herself for the nights events, her husband’s 56h electoral victory celebration. By all accounts, it should have been, heh, it would have been, a GLORIOUS day.”

“Scurrying around her were her many Presidential poodles. Included among them were Scamp, Sally, Joseph, Mark, Ezekiel, and Cuppy. ”

“WaffleIron’s canines grew; his retina nearly red with what could be called delightful anger.”

Translate:

22. An orchestra of flesh, days of plenty.

Please check it out by following this link

Translate:

“As has been well documented in this nation’s greatest tabloids, the Government Guard, mandated by mandatory Republican law, can only serve our patriotic seal of God and Country if they are sanctified virgins. Yes, all of these young fighting lads had to pass a strict sexuality test before picking up a rifle and donning the colors of this fine Country. These fine fighting men had never seen the beauty of a female form disrobed, baring her earthly goodness, until this horrible moment.”

“They sat, staring…confused.”

A warm heat begins to become more pronounced in your lap. You begin to feel slightly embarrassed.

“Lars placed her right hand thumb underneath her left bra strap. With a few seductive motions her breast where revealed to the young warriors of multiple ethnicities.”

“Do you see now WaffleIron’s secret plan? By forcing her into prostitution at an early age he was preparing her poor soul for this final carnal moment.”

“Her seductive voice beckoned them forth towards her naked body. Next, she slipped both dainty hands between her waist and unkempt panties. The guards stared, bewildered, trapped within a daze of lust. With her vagina exposed, she corralled the young soldiers like an African LION hunting frightened GAZELLE!”

On the screen, you see the stunned soldiers staring at the nude visage laid before them. A red-faced Caucasian soldier stands in a noticeably erect posture. His soundless lips mouth the words “oh my god”. In a blink of a half shut eye his fatigue pants where to his ankle, his waist ensnared by Lars’s vicious labia.

“Like a volcanic flurry of cascading desire, dormant hormones rushed through the Corps. Multi-ethnic erections of all shape and sizes were revealed to this corrupting succubus.”

Translate:

“This is what you saw,” you look upon the screen and see President Top walking out to the inaugural podium responding to loud and joyous applause. He says, “Thank you, thank you…” then all of a sudden, as was seen the night before, the screen turns to static. You look back at your host, your brow begins to pinch in anger at what you believe is about to be said.

“This is what TRULY happened,” said the narrator as he turns from you to the screen. The screen states REENACTMENT at its corner frame.

“The plan was two fold, Lars as diversion, and WaffleIron, the sword sticking and bleeding society’s pumping heart till it could beat no more.”

“Once underneath America’s great Republican structure, these carrion eating love birds split their separate ways. From the sewers, to the vents, into the Congressional Hall, they entered.”

“What about the Justice Guards, you ask?”

“Well…”

“…this was when the beautiful pawn Lars Precious was truly pushed forward.”

“Lars slithered her waiflike frame towards the guards’ room by way of the historic building’s wind drenched air aqueduct. UNDRESSED, garbed only in her stained white panties and brassiere, she pressed up against a grated vent. Peering inside she, more than likely, saw our national guardsmen sharpening their bayonets, preparing their rifles, and slash or eating a delicious supper meal.”

On the video screen, you see an actress portraying Lars Precious. She kicks open the vent with her dainty, rugged foot. She falls to the floor looking frightened and desirable to the startled soldiers encircling around her.

I’m always overwhelmed with writing these posits. Then while perusing certain blogs I realized there are many artists in this World that don’t write anything, they just show off pictures from their sketchbook. Therefore, I will do the same. Here’s a concept sketch for Sailor Mick from HOW TO BE BULLETPROOF.

Translate:

“It was here were the crime of our century took place.”

“On December 7th, 2176… America’s darkest hour.”

“Through scientific reconstruction, we believe this is how the day unfolded.”

The informative Gentleman again turns to the high quality cathode-ray tube television placed behind him. You watch with nervous anticipation.

21. Travels of the damned and corruptible.

“Their horrid day began, beneath our city within its sewers. As WaffleIron rested his feverish bones upon his hard-earned box of grenades, Lars pulled both down the sewage-filled path like a stubborn mule. Between mental rehearsals he would whipped the poor lass with a tattered broom to speed his progress. Through the refuse she marched, pulling her hate filled cargo. Step by step, this demonic duo inched closer to destiny. With grenades, fresh glue, and an assortment of delicious Tater Tots as sustenance, WaffleIron pondered upon his wicked dream. Trapped in a horse’s harness, little Lars pulled forward.”

Translate:

“Our President and his family; The Finest Americans to exist for One Hundred years.”

“For the foreign heathens that still roam upon OUR planet, let me give a brief introduction to our country’s living national treasure. Their names were Herbert Walker and Marilyn Parker Top, married underneath a lovely Christian banner, representatives of our Nation’s most holy ambition, to earn the title of Presidential family. They were our fourteen-carat jewel positioned within our National crown. Re-election after re-election they represented the finest genetic stock our Planet had to offer, exemplary shining stars to a lost and derelict orb called Earth.”

An image so immaculate you believe it to be an apparition. It is our President and his lovely First Lady. Next, you find yourself gazing upon a stately court.

It is the HALL OF JUSTICE!

20. A mighty Viking hall, exhibiting purity.

Translate:

“Somehow, unknown to our detectives and analysts, WaffleIron came across a map of the capital’s sewage system. In this map, a path was present that led directly into our most hallowed hall…the Hall of Justice!”

“Here is where the seat of the President, our Congress, and the beating heart of the World’s foremost democracy reside, my friend.”

“How did this demon discover such a map? How did he come into its possession? These are questions common rationality’s ill equipped to answer.”

“This was their plan, this was their nightmare, to mug the President of The United Nations of America, and now… it is our painful history.”

In your mind, you begin to fit the pieces of the puzzle together, one by one, locking them into place. A picture begins to form… an illustration of explanation can almost be seen.

19. The President and First Lady of the United Nations of America!

Translate:

“Perhaps it was all the political advertising that prompted his idea. Election seasons are known for vigorous advertising, you know.”
“Whatever forced him down this dark path we will never know; we will only know the ramifications of what resulted from his deplorable actions.”

“There, resting after a session of reckless, violent lovemaking, WaffleIron planned a final course to complete the trajectory of their worthless lives.”

“He decided…that he and she, his devilish debutante, would…. MUG THE PRESIDENT of OUR United Nations OF AMERICA!”

Without hesitation, vomit begins to chyme up through your throat in response to what you hear. You cover your mouth’s regurgitation with a napkin hoping the refined Gentleman did not notice.

“That’s all right son, it’s a perfectly natural response.”

“His plan was crude and simple. During the President’s acceptance speech they would sneak into the Hall of Justice and, while little Lars Precious distracted security, the villain WaffleIron would take the President’s wallet. A simple, foolish plan.”

“Now, even though corrupted, Larsey had a sliver of decency still punctured beneath her tight, fresh American skin. We presume she initially refused to go along with this heinous plan, but alas, she was no match for the BEAST’s prowess. With cunning trickery of the tongue, WaffleIron pulled out that last remaining sliver of hope and snapped it in two. He did this with a few, short, simple words, ‘Do it for me, Baby.’”

“That’s right… ‘Do it for me, Baby.’”

Saddened by the corruption of America’s Precious daughter you take a moment to bereave. It is a solemn moment.

Translate:

The old man turns away from the screen and again fixates his eyes upon you.

“I’m sorry, I must stop for a brief second, and urge the young ladies planted like seeds across America,” He turns staring past your side towards the dark, “I urge you to not follow the disastrous path of this HARLOT Lars Precious. She could have lived a wholesome life, a good life. Instead, tempted by that fiend muse ‘curiosity’ her life was ruined; her spirit destined to repent in the fiery chasms of HELL!!!”

“I feel it is my duty, to help America’s female youth…”

“…to make the right choice…”

“…Choose God. Choose Country. Choose America.”

You stare down at your genitals and feel secure in your manhood. The old man turns back to you and continues his informative monologue.

“They, Lars Precious and the villain WaffleIron, remained this way for sometime…feasting upon each other’s hate and suffering.” He points again to the television screen.

“Their meaningless lives continually repeated these sinful practices until WaffleIron one day, somehow, came up with what he called, in his opinion, an inspired idea. An idea only a cruel mind like his could imagine.”

“The thought came to him just a few months ago, maybe gifted by some dark muse plotting against Heaven while trapped inside the fetid bowels of hell, who knows really. But had it he did.”

“It was just after the World election concluded, confirming President Top as the rightful Leader to our beloved United Nations of America.”

Translate:

A part of you, a cruel part, is impressed with the free willed nature of our described antagonists. A feeling of admiration festers in your gut. The narrator senses this and responds.

“Ha, Ha”, he laughs aloud. “Don’t be fooled by the gregarious courtship of these two, dark hearted soulmates. Not all is what it seems.”

“Like any healthy adult you probably admire those who copulate frequently. I admit; I do too. But these beasts are nothing to admire.”

Puzzled, you look to the narrator questioningly.

“Let me tell you a little secret about evil, my friend; hold on to your hat because this one is a doozey.”

“Committing acts of unrepentant EVIL decreases the size of your willy.”

“That’s right, Mr. Johnson steps down a few rungs on the ladder.”

“It has been scientifically proven, in the lab as well as in the field, that committing acts of EVIL can cause PENILE necrosis!”

“Simply put, it makes your penis smaller my friend.”

“You might say to yourself, ‘but look at the joy and agony stretched out on her lovely face.’”

“She is performing, my friend, in the ways she feels she is expected to. That’s right, she is faking, falsifying joy to please her man and to avoid far worse abuse if his inadequacies were truly discovered.”

Evil acts = Penile Necrosis.

Translate:

“Number Three: The Piggy Tail!”

“Considered a counter attack to the previously mentioned maneuver, this tactic requires some foresight and planning prior to implementation. Prior to love making, the female will plug in and turn on a curling iron, and place it nearby, hidden from the male lover’s view. The female begins the session with providing fellatio as seen in the previous maneuver. As the male clasps his hand preparing to deliver the finishing blow completing the Jelly Doughnut maneuver the female responds defensively.”

“Quickly, with lightning reflexes, she grabs the curling iron hidden stealthily behind a cloth and suddenly inserts it into the unsuspecting anus of the male. The male then shrieks in terror as the woman continues to molest the poor man’s penis with her rough, callused hand. This will complete the maneuver known as The Piggy Tail.”

  

In other news, I finally got a semi-structured job, it’s not in x-ray but it is a job with guaranteed hours so I’m happy. I’m going to arrange my schedule around the new job so I’m hoping it will mean that I will get a lot of artwork done outside of work hours. We will see what happens, hopefully everything will work out.

Anyways, I think I’m finally completely finished with the literary abomination that is called CALL OF THE SCREAMING WICKED. At this point I’m going to put it down and start on my next project, which shall be entitled HOW TO BE BULLETPROOF. I understand that I have already done a comic with this title, so, this will be THE NEW HOW TO BE BULLETPROOF.

Translate:

“Number One: The Donkey Knock!”

“Here we see the male lover entering the female’s vaginal area from behind the woman’s backside with her face forced down into a cushion or pillow. At first, it seems quite ordinary until male climax is reached. Seconds before ejaculation the male slams his elbow into the spine of the unsuspecting female. With a shriek of pain and anger from the woman, the man releases his penis from the woman’s vagina while at the same time releasing his semen onto her freshly bruised back. Thus, The Donkey Knock maneuver is complete.”

“Number Two: The Jelly Doughnut!”

“This process begins with the female on her knees providing fellatio to her male lover. Again, the scene appears to be that of an intimate couple sharing intimacies. Once again, right before male climax, the male withdraws his penis from the female’s mouth. Flexing his hand into a hard fist the male brings the blunt formed hand down upon the nose of the female causing it to break. At this point ejaculation can commence and relief of the male testes is poured unto the woman’s broken face. The jelly doughnut maneuver is complete at this stage.”

Translate:

“BEHOLD! Unfortunate viewers, the cruel acts this anti-Christian couple called…Love!” The stout, elderly Gentleman turns in his chair to face a television monitor that somehow appears behind him. A brief movie showing a reenactment of Lars Precious and WaffleIron’s notorious love making practices ensue. The voice of the narrator illustrates verbally what your eyes cannot fully appreciate nor understand.

16. Unwholesome erotica.

Translate:

“Together they remained, from their first meeting forward until their dying day. They were lovers on a rampage infecting society with barbarous and violent, bacchanalian ways.”

The Gentleman pauses, looking down deep in thought. Then, like a striking cobra, his gaze is upon you. “As a government official, and as a parent of three lovely, little ladies myself, I can say that civility was at a loss at how to deal with such reckless, abandoned behavior. It was something… a strange thing… never seen before except, or course, within our worst nightmares.”

“Mugging, fornicating, vandalizing, and taking what was not theirs was the order of their frantic days.”

15. Their Paltry Days of Plenty.

Translate:

14. Delicious Adult Cigarettes.

“It was RedWorm ADULT Cigarettes’ delicious, smooth flavor that broke the camel’s back of Lars’s well learned morals… alas; it’s a luxury for the mature, and only the mature!”

“Caught within this villainous dream-like haze, Lars soon found herself on school grounds breaking bottles and intimidating classmates. Her reckless usage of cigarette relaxants led down a dark windy road to destination inhalant addiction and vaginal prostitution, pimped out by the same man she professed to love… the last living mugger our fair World had to offer, her numero uno hombre… WaffleIRON!”

“From that time forward, this innocent child of civility was transformed into a morose monster of the night!”
Shocked at how easily the mighty can fall, you take a moment to catch your breath. Yes, breathe in slowly, breath out the pain.