Killer Klowns [ page 4 ]
Arriving on planet Earth the cabal of self-serving fast food franchisees looked hard and long at the beauty of it all. Indeed, the Pearl had such a lovely luster ever since the oceans grew by leaps and bounds. Surf’s up dude!
As the party ramped up the local inhabitants became concerned but through diligent efforts the tide came to be turned. There is no place like home! So what if one is an alien both physically and mentally - what has that got to do with extracting a pound of flesh?
Darkness is let loose upon the land.
The tried and true methods of distraction worked their charm and in calming the natives the Earth became drugged. Lost and alone what other choice is there but to grasp and hold onto the carrot so willingly and ‘helpfully’ supplied. Such generosity for worthy oriental gentleman!
Besides all that the gnashing of teeth and rubbing of hands can never be fully explored unless the depths of hells are fully realized. It’s a long terrible ride down filled with glee and despair - just the right recipe for enjoying a good outing. Though the names have been changed the intent never is. The bloodhounds are well versed of their prey. The broken record skips and spins over and over again. Sometimes, the dance never seems to end.
“The Earth is my toilet. I shall not want.”
Now that the spoils of war have been spilled all over the place where is the clean-up crew? Well Dorothy, we’re not in Kansas anymore so clean up your own damn mess. That’s about the size of it, is it not? When the natives become restless something has to give especially in light of the weakened minds of the good ‘ol boys. The choice, as always, lies with incapacitated dumb-asses.
But don’t let that fool you. Behind every mask, behind every social custom lies the heart of the matter. The truth can be quite appalling can it not?
In the quiet of night the Beast calls your name. Do you not notice the trembling?