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| Not really a story or anything, but... by mrs. johnson 06/03/2003, 8:10pm PDT | ||||
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| This was sort of inspired.
Somewhere in the mountains of Eurasia, there live three old men. Their names are I, Whip and Cream. They are immoral, immortal and jolly. They are embodiments of gray skies and losers. They sit around a fire that never goes out and sip a jug forever filled with wine. They sometimes rise and dance, but they mostly talk. “What do we do if we get a visitor tonight?†Asks I. “I say we trick him into ruining his village for us.†Replies Whip. “I say we feed him some wine and let him sleep next to our fire.†Cream answers. I considers this for a moment. “Why not do both?†All three agree and take a sip from the jug. “But wait. What if the stranger is a woman?†Asks Whip. “We seduce her.†Says I. “I say we hide and when she falls asleep, we whisper in her ears.†Cream is visibly excited. Whip says, “If we seduce her, do we plant our seed in her belly?†Cream says, “Certainly. Her child shall be a God amongst men.†“Never. We must be unchallenged.†Says Whip. “How can one man that is only one half of one of us challenge the three of us together?†Cream asks. “All is possible.†Says I. “Technology! Tactics we are too ashamed to use. He may force us to leave this place.†Whip speaks angrily. “No one can force us to leave this place. We are fuller than their light. We are smaller than can be seen. We are larger than our own sentience. You speak foolishly. Why deny the pleasure of our seed in a smooth belly for a needless fear?†Cream sips the jug. “We speak of something that has not yet happened. Let us look into the fire and await the coming of what shall be.†I speaks calmly. Whip replies, “You are right. Let us speak of other things. I have not eaten hare for centuries. Where have they all gone?†Cream thinks for a bit and says, “The hare have left this mountain in fear of the men that slowly creep up it.†“What can we do?†Asks Whip. I replies, “We can do nothing. We do not need to eat. Let us sit here and await what shall come.†Whip retorts, “I may not need food, but my belly quenches for roast hare. I shall drive away the men with ghostly noises and apparitions.†He rises and leaves the fire. Cream asks, “Do you think he shall succeed?†I pauses and then replies, “He will fail. Men shall pretend that he is not there. They shall attribute his tricks to nature.†“But will not they be right?†“Certainly. But that is not what Whip wants. His need for hare might tire him and forever destroy his ability to sit for dozens of years. He shall become restless and wander.†“I fear for him. Perhaps I shall go bring him back.†“Let him be. He will learn. Or we shall never see him again.†“If only the two of us remain, we shall no longer be able to dance.†“You are correct. The fire shall go out, and the jug will dry.†“What can we do?†“Drink while it is full, plant our seeds in bellies while we may and gaze upon the fire while it is warm.†In the distance, screaming is heard. I and Cream smile. An owl passes overhead, but they ignore it. the mrs. |
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Not really a story or anything, but... by 06/03/2003, 8:10pm PDT  aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah! *splat* NT by 06/03/2003, 10:17pm PDT Is that positive or negative? NT by 06/04/2003, 1:28am PDT The Continuation by 06/04/2003, 2:34am PDT I liked that one more than all the others by 06/05/2003, 9:58am PDT ýup NT by 06/05/2003, 11:58am PDT I am a faggot :( NT by 06/05/2003, 11:59am PDT |
