Cannibalistic Sheep And Mutilated Athletes. Part Two.
Last time on ‘Cannibalistic Sheep’…(wibbly wobbly special effects, as we recount the end of part one) After about 30 minutes, the sheep became hungry but still they refused to jump. After an hour, they started to grow restless. After an hour and a half, they begun to turn feral. Overcome with extreme hunger and feeling utterly famished, they soon turned to cannibalism, gnawing nauseatingly away at each others sheep parts until there was nothing left but a sea of red, as entrails and intestines were strewn across my imagined field.Things weren’t looking to good.
What I really needed were people. People who made a living out of jumping and leaping. People for whom jumping and leaping was their livelihood. For whom jumping and leaping was their life’s blood. Flicking through the index of mind, I found just what I was looking for.
Up stepped my finely tuned athletes, ready to spring into action at a moments notice and boy, did they spring. My beautiful athletes leaped and twirled. Frolicked and vaulted, It was a dazzling display. I was awed by their by swiftness, amazed at their agility, floored by such grace and in lustful rapture at the very sight of their tightly fitted spandex shorts. They were truly magnificent.
I opened my eyes to clear my head and still I could see them sprinting and flying through the air like majestic birds. After seven thousand leaps, I decided to take action. If they weren’t going to stop, then I would have to make them stop…and so I knee-capped them. I really didn’t see what else I could have done.
I then got up to check on Spawn, while visions of disabled athletes, writhing and crawling upon the ground, danced in my head. Their shrill cries of pain, which cascaded from tortured twisted lips as they clutched tightly to their blood shattered knees, followed me as I entered his room. Spawn was fast asleep. He looked almost angelic half buried beneath the covers and snoring lightly. All day he had been running around, yowling and screeching like a wild child abandoned and raised by wolves and then re-introduced, failingly back into society. And now here he was, safe and snug and looking like the most beautiful of heavenly cherubs.
I wanted to bludgeon him to death with a baseball bat, jealous at his ability to fall asleep as soon as his massive shaped head hit the pillow. But alas, no such implement existed within my household.
I shuffled back to bed, unable to even lift my weary feet. My face felt like it was melting, my eyeballs slowly streaming down my cheeks. My body felt heavy as I collapsed ungraciously onto the bed. Even death was beginning to look like a relief. As Dawn approached, I told her to get out of my bedroom and she left wearily. The morning sun now shone it’s light through my darken window and my eyelids began to feel as though they had been weighted down with barbells. Eventually and finally, I started to drift off into sleep…
Until I was awaken by the sounds of chirping birds…chirping… chirpily.
They didn’t sound like a dawn chorus, more like a bunch of football hooligans that had decided to take up residence upon my window sill. “Wake up, waaaake up, it’s a great big beautiful day,” they seem to chirp in harmony. With my eyes still closed, I imagined holding a gun, a big bloody sawn off shotgun. And there I stood, dream Lily, blasting away with glee and relish whilst feathered wings and entrails scattered everywhere. I soon fell asleep with the glorious mental image that, outside my imaginary window was a mountain of imaginary bird corpses, blasted to smithereens and littering the imaginary pavement outside. A slight smile played across my lips and I was gone.
I had finally arrived at the ‘Land of Nod.”