His body was still twisted
“Don't you just love wine bottle openers?”
His body was still twisted and his pancreas was between her toes. The lighted traditional grips from Beth couldn't bring about some weird aura of carnal jocularity, so we instead decided to resort to some aggressive form of atrophy applied liberally at the throat. Upon doing this his Adam's apple throbbed virulently, tearing his larynx. No way we were gonna report this; her phalanges would square off and gyrate insensitively atop a thermos. Common knowledge would dictate (or indicate) that bile was spilled atop the retina to invoke a sense of olfactory blindness rather than a bushy tail, but if one were to observe closely enough she would find pores. Meanwhile, the spectators would gladly make use of his sinew and bones, but Beth chose to ponder his quadriceps.
His body was still twisted for charity, but the connective integrity of his epidermis had already failed spectacularly. His parents were bemused to partake in such convivial festivities that garner the attention of the superficially surnamed. The subsequent conflagration could spike sales from a more lucrative and nasal perspective, but the twisting and lack of turning wouldn't fare too well. Surprisingly, few apertures opened and shutters were nonexistent; damn the mirrorless! Nonetheless, the sounds of primordial perseverance manifested itself in guttural delight interspersed with moistened movements and the breaking of structural foundations made of calcium and marrow.
Gloriousness would later reveal herself in all her warm crimson majesty. If only she would tell them to coalesce, but they wouldn't understand; what good would interdimensional travel do to convince them?
THIS IS THE INCENTIVE; THE CATALYST[edit | edit source]
She immediately recalled Jacob's Ladder. What a glorious film. She devoured sheep heads every chance she got afterward and she swore that her palms were indicative of her living death. She wanted to ask if it was called "BZ" when they thrust it at her, but stone cold looks and stern tones work like subtle threats.
"Lysergic acid diethylamide."
Pretty little squares? She was met with a cold metal canister a top that was sealed very tightly with clasps. It was like a giant thermos the size of a small but tall pot. This wasn't the good stuff... unless this was the stuff before it got into those pretty little squares. Was it military grade? Can she have some?
"Mother wouldn't be properly satiated."
Ever look at a horse's eyes?
DISPERSE IT TO INITIATE THE INTERFACE[edit | edit source]
What, just throw it up into the air? Those monoliths wouldn't sprout - oh, pour it on top of them when they're gathered together worshipping the wonders of the tissues!? That's wild! She always saw it but now she can live it! She can finally see Mother!
Flesh is the greatest medium there is. Beautifully malleable. Interfaces are to be worshipped.
dopamine[edit | edit source]
His body was still twisted but certainly not contorted. He will not be alone; twisting and turning and cellular synchrony will soon ensue, and Mother will await them. High up they watch, eagerly awaiting the great gift Mother promised them. Salivation was rampant. Pupils dilated into abysses of a bodily desire that transcends copulation. When the moment arrives, they will dash downward into the carnal congregation, only to descend further downwards into fleshly oblivion.
Anything for Mother. Our riches pale in comparison to her presence. The world will watch and will crave her wonders. They will join us in fleshly eternity.
Pixelation wasn't a problem anymore, so they scrapped it. Red was always in demand - the greatest primary next to an elephant these days. heart disease absolved itself voluntarily for a year or two, but they scrapped it. Four frames per second did the whole twitchy thing perfectly well, and the people enjoyed it thoroughly.
His body was still twisted, and now, they too will be twisted. She realized how illogically placed the beginning was (what of the bile?), and no lighted traditional grip would suffice for such a bizarre encounter. Now, she chuckled ravenously. Endearingly. Maddeningly. God bless the CIA for this stuff!
The canister hissed and popped. She shuddered at the thought of Mother. In an ecstatic craze, she ran toward the worshippers and thrust it onto them. The suited vultures lost their minds and were foaming at the mouth. Mother shall soon comfort us.
What's a flesh interface?[edit | edit source]
No... NO! NO!!! That is one thing you never want to know about and never want to even think about! What I saw was the kind of thing that would make a man recuse himself from this world and damn all flesh! It's a physical embodiment of insanity and living putrefaction - to see it would be the beginning of your death.
...