*This was meant to be a re-post dedicated to my dastardly and debauched siblings but I ended up re-writing the whole thing instead. In regards to the evil practices detailed below, everything you read here is 100% pure unadulterated truth, .So join me in pointing a finger at these vile trio, whilst hissing a chorus of boos, for they deserve rightly so, to be judged.
Families are wonderful.
Who better to support you in your greatest hour of need, to wipe away the tears when all seems well and truly lost? Who can you rely on to tell you what you need to hear, rather than what you want to hear? And who will always be there for you, no matter what, come rain or shine, winter or fall, day and night? Not my bloody family, that’s who.
I have long been fully aware, that lurking within the depth of my own clan, there resides a definite spark of villainy. This inherent wickedness, doesn’t so much as run through my kindred folk but gallops and bucks wildly, like a rabid horse, frothing and chomping away at the bit.
The cheeks of the same boy who away from the spotlight, would squash ants underfoot with relish and glee and who once garnered the affections of a tiny baby bird by cooing softly to it, only to then try and kick it in the head when it came within mere grasp of his fat sausage shaped fingers.
When I was Spawn’s age, I was so sweet that grown ups could almost feel the onset of early diabetes forming just by looking at me. No evil thoughts ever crossed my mind and no plans for wrong doings were ever afoot. OK, so I had my fair share of pulling the wings off dragonflies, but really, that was as serious as it ever got. (Practicing the ancient arts of Necromancy came much later on) So if Spawn didn’t inherit his fiendish ways from me, then just where did such wickedness come from?
Then I remembered. My siblings. Three of the most despotic people in all of history. And that’s when it suddenly came flooding back to me, the sordidness and devilry that once marred the innocence of my childhood. Here were the TRUE FACES OF EVIL!
My older sister? Well, her evil deeds are too numerous to mention but together, the three of them formed a highly and unlikely psychotic trio.
Apart from playing ‘catch’ with the Goldfish and watching it’s innards scatter across the open expanse of the living room, my siblings most dastardly acts ever, were the maiming, torture and subsequent killing of flies.For them, flies were the greatest of enemies sent forth by Mother nature herself, who mocked them openly with her creation of the wretched winged beasts. It was an all out war where these vermin were concerned and with the aid of their inbuilt super power fly detector radar, all three could easily sense, with just a twitch of their noses, the advancing approach of their mortal adversaries.
Over time, the trio soon became adept hunters. Armed only with their weapon of choice, a rolled up newspaper or a Sunday supplement and so driven in their loathing and hatred of these insectoids, they could never seek peace until they had finally captured and persecuted their prey.
The poor flies would first, be stunned by the hard swat of newspaper but they were not so readily dispatched afterwards. Oh no, they were kept very much alive in a ‘fly Guantanamo Bay,’ awaiting their moment of torture, a moment that would always and inevitably end in their untimely execution.
The demise of each insect was met in two ways. The first and most merciful was ‘The Crush’. The second, by way of burning. ‘The Crush’ was exactly that and simply involved placing the defeated body of the fly into the groove of a window ledge, while the handle of the window itself was rotated in the locked position. All the while, it’s pitiful screams were ignored by the three sadists, or at least that’s how it sounded to me as I watched in dismay and horror from a safe distance by the doorway. With not a hint of guilt or a show of remorse, two of the ‘evil ones’ would stand by whilst the third, crushed it’s tiny body until there was nothing left but a black and bloodied stain.
Burning was like a kind of medieval witch trial, “You stand trial accused of being a fly. If you are found to be a fly then you will burn. And if you are not…well shit, you’re gonna burn anyways cos yous a bloody fly!” (We had appalling diction back then) The poor thing never stood a chance.
And as if it wasn’t bad enough that it had to die through no fault of it’s own but by way of it’s genetic DNA, it had to also go through a series of grisly punishments before it could eventually earn it’s release from such hellish torment.
*Warning:The following scenes
depict acts of decapitations and outright villainy!
The first series of unfortunate events meted out to the fly, was the pulling away of it’s wings. Next to follow was the loss of all it’s limbs, as the evil trio chuckled evilly in an evil manner that was dripping with pure evilness. And that was not the end by far, for worse was yet to come…much worse.
After the insect victim had been stripped off everything that made it what it was…which was obviously a fly…you would know that if you had been paying attention, it was then IMPALED on the sharp end of a pin. But still, that was not the end of it. As if it had not suffered enough at the cruel hands of these sadistic under-aged and clearly deranged humans, it’s last act on this very earth, was to then be ‘fly roasted’ over the rings of a burning gas oven.
To this day, the three psychotic fly killers remain at large. By a sheer force of good fortune, none of them have yet gone on to become mass serial killers, though I have noticed that my sister’s lawn looks remarkably fertile since her husband went missing. With the winter months still creeping it’s way into our bones and the bite of frost still lingering, things for now remain calm. But come the turning of the summer tide, all hell will surely break loose. To this day, my siblings cannot see a fly pass by without the shiver of the promise that they can bring it, for their abhorrence still remains deep, running like chilled ice through cold veins. A coldness born from years of perfecting the art of their murderous craft. And so it is to them that I dedicate this post. To the TRUE FACES OF EVIL.
May your evil souls rot in fly hell and may you all never experience the sharp point of a pin up your bums!
*Not sure what’s happening with the spacing on this post*