We ordered locusts, honeyed, from the promised land, but they were not on the menu. All we got was some tortured beast – already half dead – who threw us out into the street saying, “This is a respectable establishment – we serve tea!”
We decided to have a drink, but it was Sunday cathedral quiet and all the pubs were closed. We noticed that everyone, everywhere, had been fucked in the face for no good reason. So we called the author to demand an explanation, we got no reply. He was probably on a book signing somewhere on Sinai. I demanded a lawyer – I know my rights – but the lawyers were all asleep, it being early on a Sunday morning.
We gave each other medals instead, gold ones, as befitted our winner status. We were fast – faster than any car – any parked car that is. Slumped on a park bench we pondered our next move while we had another smoke – it stunts the growth, but I was already ten feet tall and rising. I had a special lotion to prevent my errant growth cycle, but I had left it in the car and left the car somewhere where I could not find it. It’s always the last place you look – so we stopped looking, but it wasn’t there.
Just then it hit us – where everybody was. They were in church – where we ought to be – as God fearing men. Sitting in God’s house with a thousand tabs of acid stuffed into my coat pockets I felt like every messianic hipster who’d taken the wrong turn on the road to salvation – ecstatic. When the minister said, “Let us pray” I gave my consent, “Feel free” I said, and we both fell out of our pew laughing.