Review Summary: alright thats all i got hahah
BLASPHEMIES SCREAMED FORTH BY THOMAS GAZE:
"Destruction seized my veins as I followed the trenchant mercenary’s opinions. Think you’re cool??? I’ve seen bodies. Blood. That’s cool huh??? Huh. Sure. I’ve seen babies impaled. They squealed. It wasn’t as tame as you might expect. It was worse than you could imagine. We threw puppies off the ridge. We didn’t have the chance to hear their last whimpers. I’ve seen dogs branded. It wasn’t fun. What do you think I did? I smiled. Not out of happiness.
Some folks think these things don’t happen. I volunteered. Out of… foolishness? Yeah. I was an idiot. Conformity immediately seized me. I had to smile with a blank expression. Or else I’d be screwed.
'Sir yes sir!”
'Where's the bullets?'
I looked down to find a F?cked Up Gun. I couldn’t believe it. Before I could say queef, I was getting beaten up by the officer. My face probably looked like spaghetti a normal citizen eats nearly every day. But I was a soldier. And there ain’t anybody eating my face. I was sublime.
'Sir yes Sir!' The officer went to preach to the next guy.
Dark depression is all I remembered after that. 'Am I queer?' I remembered that I wasn’t a queer. I remembered the soldier personality. I watched as the officer perked up. He looked proud, so I was proud. Tomorrow I kill people.
Next thing I knew, I was putting a head on a stake. An Arabic head. Felt good. 'So this guy wants to rape my wife and kids?' 'Yes.' I dropped to a knee to offer a sacrament to chaos. And then it was that I was transported back into my home.
At home, I wrestled with boredom. I watched Burzum videos, but soon got bored. My wife’s pussy wasn’t as good as I remembered. All I could remember was dead dogs and Arabs. I decided it could all be over. I’ve heard all the riffs already, after all.
Then a voice spoke to me. I was astonished.
'You may call me Arazatulaak. You like rock? I’ve got some riffs for you.' I was then startled by hearing every riff in history. And in adjacent history. I immediately blinked my eyes. How… was that possible. It all happened in a second. I picked up the guitar. My god. What the dilch is this? Aha, I’m doing a cover of myself. Thanks Arazatulaak!
'You're welcome, my son.'
'Wait… you read my thoughts?'
'Thoughts… riffs… it’s all the same, is it not?'
'Indeed, sire. Indeed.'
I realized then that all I ever hath done was incorrect, but also correct. I was doomed to it. I didn’t accept it – I sold it. I got a million dollars off of it. I bought a house, a yacht, and a plane. I didn’t think I would ever do any of these things. But, thanks to the daemon, I now know riffs. And I’m a rich man. Shish kebabs are on the grill. Are you willing to try them?
That’s all he wrote."