Not Becoming Gratified

Mother is taking her pills, let me tell 'ya.

A recent contraction occured in a small town. Six members undertook renovations on a sea shanty--two of them elders, two of them children, and two of them in their middle age. All these salivating beings in the small confines of this decrepit home lead to illness.

So they trekked towards the palace. It was a long, grassy walk, and full of the regular whining. By and by, Small Cardinal was spotted, nuzzling his extremities. Dialogue ensued.

"Dear Small Cardinal! The populous town of YellFish awaits in apparant glory. We have heard stories of its riches--cough!--and do endear you to accompany us." This was chanted in unison by the company.

"For ninety years I've flown throughout this beauty land and dreamed!
And I have seen the golden pieces laughing as they gleamed!
But wherefore whence the time has shot himself upon the shores
And tears have spewn from all the soft and all his babbling pores!"

"Well sir, your negativity hath taken its toll upon my heartstrings. You are an offputting fellow to be sure... but the question remains. Shall you chance your luck?"

"A bitter wind is one that blows upon your fellows' fate
In unnatural and unkindly bursts of surefire hate
And so, in my mind, and with all the feeling of great fear,
I shall not be one to join the party of your cheer."

A reply came from the renovators. "You are naught but a pawn of evil magic! Here you spit prophecies at us like a broken hose, yet we do not condone your ridiculous words. We'll pass you, sure as that's your wish... but first we require an apology from you, bastard."

Small Cardinal kept quiet, so the whole crew traveled on. And the second creature that manifested itself in their gleaming balls of viewing the world through, this--yes, this-- was Motherfucking Pheasant. Always the fool of the forest, he was gathering pinecones by a stream of blue.

"Motherfucking Pheasant, do you want to come with us?" everyone said together.

"Why, yes! Let me fetch my tailcoat!" came the reply of the second bird.

So they continued walking until they reached YellFish; they gasped.

It was a town of beauty. The bricks in the streets were forged of pure gold. Near the corners of the glorious town where were many small, dirty shops with broken windows, but these were of straw and feces--what really caught the renovators (and now Motherfucking Pheasant's) eyes were huge structures in the middle. They almost seemed to scrape the immaculate sky.

They strolled around and saw the sights--statues of clean-shaven busy-bee types, heaps of exotic currency, and the like--until finally, a villager came out of his house bearing a small baby. His face was dark and worried, but still possessed a charm and an innocence.

"Sirs... you must slaughter this infant. Time runs short."

The renovators were aghast. Slaughter an infant?

"Show me the proof," they cried out.

The man slowly raised a knife with wide eyes. "There is no time," he maintained. His fingers twitched. His neat leather shoes tapped on the golden street.

Now the renovators, who were presently ill, had another problem added to their plate. They felt conflicted, but not unlike a tiny elf who has just had his share of ale. For the words of Small Cardinal echoed in their minds. Were they wrong about coming to this godforsaken place?

Just then, Motherfucking Pheasant spoke up. "I hate children!" were the screamed words that came from his beak. His aura flickered with insanity. His chi was uncertain and teetering.

No one moved for a small instant. Then everyone lunged at the gun, save for the elders, the children, and the middle-agers. The native YellFishian and the second bird grappled on the golden street for a few minutes, while the others stood, mortified. In the end, good won out... and Motherfucking Pheasant rose, a victorious look about him. The knife glistened with the passion of four suns. A nervous grin appeared on the man's face. The energy was palpable.

FIN