JERRY VILHOTTI | ||
Storella: Doom Coming The Greek gods Lust, Zeus, Comeuppance and Tears sat watching this take me out to the ball game thing they had encountered many years before; seeing the likes of the great Babe Ruth hitting awesome skyscrapers that went for Homers while almost at the same time devouring prodigious amounts of hot-dogs and gulping down gallons of his father's tavern nectar tapping his big bat to his favorite song "Deep Purple" and later humming it while plowing all the ladies of the Saint Louis brothel during their weekend stay beating up on the Browns but after the greed season happened when both owners and players showed great contempt for what was once a game, most of the gods that remained, as their attendance diminished considerably, looked upon it with a jaundiced eye and began adding even more dimensions to it: like having a ball trapped inside a grotesque hand bounce out of it when making the pasture guarder bang against a fence and make what once looked like an out become a fourbagger, and then delightfully toying with a manager's mind by planting a bright idea of doing a run and hit with the bases loaded—allowing the easy triple play to follow to the orgiastic delight of fanatics going for the home team or playing with a supreme court justice's mind behind home plate making him forget what constituted a steek or baw. The announcement flooding the whole stadium asked all good God-fearing fanatics to please cough up like phlegm five, ten or a thousand dollars to a great cause propounded by their owner of the Los Alamo Rockets to make become a reality the pellet missile system that the whole world would fear. It was known also in corporate jargon as PMS. "Explain please? Is this something like the poet who said that when the coliseum fell the world would begin a dying?" Zeus asked. The god of Lust took it upon himself to answer the mighty one who had beaned the throne off his father's head. "Before we Greeks came to power in the Mediterranean area, the whole world was concerned with dying making all kinds of religions flourish, so building structures in honor of death, like the ziggurats of Babylon and the pyramids of Egypt, whose women were the first to rouge their lips to resemble juicy— " "What in the holy hell does that have to do with the price of the Romans' broccoli rape?" Zeus shouted. "But my most powerful One—greater than even the Persian god of light with his twelve apostles who wanted to promote reincarnation to make a better world — I was getting to the point in my own lustful horny way— " "Do you recall the Prometheus person?" the god of Tears reminded him. "By Jove I fucking do! You see, the owner of the teammortals named Casper Shrub loser of much of his brain cells during his earlier years playing with skulls and bones what with drinking like the great Babe and some say doing babonia-dope on the side while tying his penis in knots has this money making idea for the wealthy makers of fungo limbs and white pellets and when the ticketbuyers fold into it - fearfully believing him when he says the sky is falling - says he knows a new clear way to stop Homers and carry on where that other leader of fear did while doing his pee dance when Europe was burning. This country once a pseudo promiser of making a better world is going back to when they were colonies to perpetuate their Taliban ways-" "How pray tell does he plan to do this?" Zeus said rubbing his knee with a closed fist that he would soon bite; making spike mark indentations appear all over its back; filled with puddles of saliva. "He wants to position one of his fungo mortals on the foul naughty side of left pastures, and after the fanatics buy into this, he will add another one in fouler right pastures so when they see a pellet hit by an enemy clubmortal going toward Mount Olympus they will begin hitting their pellets to hit it so preventing it from going to Homerville and he points out proudly that his method is successful one out of a hundred times; that is - if the limb swinger tells them when he going to try and hit one out!" All the gods looked away as Zeus began chewing the back of his hand - thinking indeed the Dark Ages was making its full comeback in the dark clothing of fear, uncertainty and self-hate. |
||
© 2003 Jerry Vilhotti | ||
back to contents |