Saturday, October 24, 2015

Killer Lust.

For weeks, I'd stalked and creeped around corners. Watching from the shadows, I could feel a euphoric rush of satisfaction as I fantasized about touching it. How had I ever lived so long without placing my lips upon it? I needed to become one with my prey. We were fated to be together, with nothing to stand in our way. Desire was consuming my very being, breaking the boundaries of both time and space. My hunger was transcendent! Our love was as pure as the snow, falling upon an abandoned amusement park.

"Give me... that... CORNDOG!"

My blood lust for that warm sausage wrapped in a buttery, gritty coating was simply too much to contain. A rocket blast of exploding angst burst from my heels. I launched from the hedges next to the market square with little regard for my own well-being. Not once do I recall my feet touching the ground as I sprinted to my target. Nothing like a wiener on a stick to get my ass moving.

As I approached the corndog cart operated by Ardavast Mirzoyan, a jovial Armenian with a penchant for wearing too much cologne, I nearly tripped over a baby carriage. With the enraged mother screaming at me, I dashed at that affable dipped wienie-slinger and tackled him to the ground.

Finally... mine. All mine. Every last corn-meal dipped dog that I could stuff in my already gaping mouth hole was mine for the taking. I immediately began ravaging the corndog cart, emptying every steamer basket that I could find. As Mirzoyan started to rise from the ground, I swiftly spin-kicked him in the jaw, letting loose a few of his gold-capped molars.

"Stay down, they're mine!"

The defeated vendor crawled away on all fours, trying to avoid receiving any more of my wrath. I kept shoving the corndogs in, one after another. Sometimes, I'd dunk them in a giant tub of mustard just for a little variety, but it honestly didn't matter. All I wanted was my vast gut to hold every corndog my eyes could see. Shoving... pushing... cramming... more and more. I must have slid a dozen corndogs down before my eyes began to water. This was no deterrent though; I simply kept going even harder!

That is... right up until the point I could feel the cold steel of a pistol pressed against the back of my head.

"Get down, you slimy corndog sucker!"

As I listened to the click of the police officer's revolver, I gulped. Unfortunately, the corndog in my throat went down the wrong way and became firmly lodged in my windpipe. The convulsing sucking motion of my throat gradually pulled the corndog deeper, blocking even more of my air supply. A crowd quickly formed around my shaking body, now crippled on the ground and near death. The police officer tried to pull the wieners out of my mouth before it was too late, but alas... my death warrant was signed and delivered.

I was corndogged to death.

There I was, watching my own deceased body as a ghost, with no one knowing I was there. As I contemplated my own questionable decisions, a bony finger tapped me on the shoulder.


None other than the grim reaper stood there next to me, shroud in a cloak of ash and darkness. A skeletal hand emerged from his cloak gripping a tasty, if not ironic, treat.

"Want a bite of my corndog?"

Chopping down with his exposed teeth, the cadaverous reaper slid a bite into his throat. I watched through the holes in his throat, then in his stomach. Though vile, I simply couldn't tear my eyes away. The corndog still had a death-grip on my soul.

Plop. The bite of the corndog fell out of the reaper's rotten body.

"Sure, why not?"

I picked the half-chewed chunk of corndog up and begrudgingly swallowed it; I simply couldn't resist. The reaper placed his arm around me and gripped tightly.

"My boy, we're going to be great friends."

And that, my friends is how you get into corndog heaven.

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