"coofffeee... ccrooofffeeee.... ccoo..eekghk..", his dust spattered brain insisted as the sun forced its way between the steering wheel & the windshield cracks, into his eyes, as his head remembered it was attacged to a scrunched up body shoved into the driver's compartment of a truck that some troll had miniaturized, before bashing him through the initial 15,000 miles of compressed space that was accelerating him into what might become the terminating phase of this chapter of his mortality...
he smiled as his bones creaked, cursing everything he loved, the pains varying from the minor aches of typical morning contortions and the intrusion of the hard plastic windiw guide impressing its memory into the skin of his waking forehead, to the instantaneous & insistant agony that sunlight was demanding he acknowledge its existence with..
& the moment of that morning's beauty carried need..
COOFFEE!!! godammit.. where can i get coffee???
yes, he could have broken out the stove & lit shit up, but he was fat & used to sucking in mechanical tits.. besides, he had a deadline that no one had given him and had to make sure he kept it, as poorly as possible..
he *could* have drank the old coffee, but that would merely ruin the fine damnation he was presently enjoying, as the forest road assailed him the distractions of a better truth that could only be brought to fruition with a stimulant capable of putting a *true* edge on the glorious despair he knew he would enjoy for the rest if the day..
there had been a shop some miles back, but closed, last night..
pergaps further ahead..
flowers & the breaking spikes of Sol, with whispers of cloudtops, dying in their ascent from the vallies..& blue..
a Blue lighter than Joy, but
more
Potent..
& the deer, deciding if they should be afraid enough to flee..
& ahead, as the grass & shadow cooled air cleansed away the crust of hell & civilization..??
a shop, saying "food", & the fucking thing us *open*..
" 3 fucking goddamned dollars for a cup of fucking coffee????" he screamed to himself..
but the girl behind the counter was obviously a slave, also..
for some reason or other the place is mildly crowded..
there were no more than a half dozen cars on the road over the past 20 miles, but the place is loaded with fucking yuppies, corporate automatons trying to remember to breath, shiny cars with families trying to not kill each other, &, oddly, even a couple of working stiffs..
he realizes, at this point, that he is hungry, also..
having shit the 3 bucks that will later be pissed away, he figures a crosaint would be nice..
no prices on anything, but it seems to be the cheapest stand alone item in the display..
the coffee is actually good..
soo..
sooo.. he says, he does.
"I'll get a butter croissant", thinking it will come with fucking butter, but not saying "buttered" because he knows if he gets ass raped on the croissant itself, the butter will only make it fucking worse..
Ta dah!
he pays for his rape..
no butter, thank you, but fuck it, because the place is too deep in the woods to bitch at other prisoners..
he goes to the car, opens the bag & pulls out the gold plated baked item..
bites into it..
& discovers..
"GODDAMNED FUCK!!! this is one of those massed produced fucking things!!! FUCKKKK...."
it had been a while since his last croissant, so he forgot the damn things could be boobie trapped..
he eats the poison & relaxes..
"remember", he says to himself " if it has anything to do with profit as the first principle, it is fucking cursed.."
he smiled as his bones creaked, cursing everything he loved, the pains varying from the minor aches of typical morning contortions and the intrusion of the hard plastic windiw guide impressing its memory into the skin of his waking forehead, to the instantaneous & insistant agony that sunlight was demanding he acknowledge its existence with..
& the moment of that morning's beauty carried need..
COOFFEE!!! godammit.. where can i get coffee???
yes, he could have broken out the stove & lit shit up, but he was fat & used to sucking in mechanical tits.. besides, he had a deadline that no one had given him and had to make sure he kept it, as poorly as possible..
he *could* have drank the old coffee, but that would merely ruin the fine damnation he was presently enjoying, as the forest road assailed him the distractions of a better truth that could only be brought to fruition with a stimulant capable of putting a *true* edge on the glorious despair he knew he would enjoy for the rest if the day..
there had been a shop some miles back, but closed, last night..
pergaps further ahead..
flowers & the breaking spikes of Sol, with whispers of cloudtops, dying in their ascent from the vallies..& blue..
a Blue lighter than Joy, but
more
Potent..
& the deer, deciding if they should be afraid enough to flee..
& ahead, as the grass & shadow cooled air cleansed away the crust of hell & civilization..??
a shop, saying "food", & the fucking thing us *open*..
" 3 fucking goddamned dollars for a cup of fucking coffee????" he screamed to himself..
but the girl behind the counter was obviously a slave, also..
for some reason or other the place is mildly crowded..
there were no more than a half dozen cars on the road over the past 20 miles, but the place is loaded with fucking yuppies, corporate automatons trying to remember to breath, shiny cars with families trying to not kill each other, &, oddly, even a couple of working stiffs..
he realizes, at this point, that he is hungry, also..
having shit the 3 bucks that will later be pissed away, he figures a crosaint would be nice..
no prices on anything, but it seems to be the cheapest stand alone item in the display..
the coffee is actually good..
soo..
sooo.. he says, he does.
"I'll get a butter croissant", thinking it will come with fucking butter, but not saying "buttered" because he knows if he gets ass raped on the croissant itself, the butter will only make it fucking worse..
Ta dah!
he pays for his rape..
no butter, thank you, but fuck it, because the place is too deep in the woods to bitch at other prisoners..
he goes to the car, opens the bag & pulls out the gold plated baked item..
bites into it..
& discovers..
"GODDAMNED FUCK!!! this is one of those massed produced fucking things!!! FUCKKKK...."
it had been a while since his last croissant, so he forgot the damn things could be boobie trapped..
he eats the poison & relaxes..
"remember", he says to himself " if it has anything to do with profit as the first principle, it is fucking cursed.."
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Brought a tear to my eye on the real.
