"Oh meu Deus - o que o ... onde estou e que cheira a polo frito? You know, the idea that you employ reformed fairies isn't entirely deviant, in fact, knowing you, it's a good business model. Hell, if I woulda known better, judging by the fact the fairy ring being disturbed hasn't sent millions of tiny demonic Christophobic little farts out to murder me...you have a way to please them that, hell, I couldn't when I tried...wait--are they TrYiNG tO BuRn Me?"
The smell was nauseatingly obnoxious, emphasizing the noxious, and I wondered why on Earth God decided to blend his--accent--for lack of a word, in with my speech until I realized it was pointless trying to rationalize, contextualize, whatever-alize my life anymore. I was being propped up and my skin was frying like chicken or more appropriately--wood.
"You know, I don't know anymore if it's me or you talking--BUT THAT WAS STUPID! HONESTLY STUPID! I mean, I'm probably nuts, BUT COME ON! WE SMELL LIKE ROASTED CHICKEN!"
Suddenly, a smile or two, as if the entire plan hinged on my brain being utterly shattered.
"GET ME--OR, US--OUT OF HERE!"
"I CoULD HeLp, but...I'd rather wait for a while, see exactly what you do with--that hammer over there...maybe those rocks? Use your me-given brain to think your way out of a problem like this."
Silence. Pure silence for a moment, as I attempted to wrack my brain. It was only March 5th, and maybe the madness inherent to the month was swallowing it whole.
"What are you thinking--I'm gonna die! No, wait, this is a good thing! I'M GONNA DIE AGAIN! Yay!"
Silence again, then the sound of what I could assume was screaming and the clink of a goblet.
"I really would love to ask about the cup, but--whatever. I'm just going to--well, how'd I do that? It looks very pretty...the red goblet, shining in front of me like the grail of old, filled to the brim with wine. Sweet, terrific, red wine. Should I drink from it? It looks--I see a shiny blue insignia on it...wings, I think. I really shouldn't waste a good cup where I see it."
YOU ARE READING
Puppetry
RandomWell, let's get this out of the way now. I'm bored and figured--what the hell, I might as well chronicle each day from now until the very end. No particular deadline, really. And something hurts in my hips, so I need to distract from the pain in it...
