The Superstar

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I would always fall to my knees in the presence of Christ, if not to simply glimpse His side wound.
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**I**
[[/=]]

Alagadda in the month of June was the most joyous month
for the five great lords of the carnival city were returning from their yearly voyages;
The Lord of Urine, the yellow-robed one and the representative of the Ichor District, She was to return from dealings in the Kingdom of Abbadon;
The Lord of Menstruality, the red-robed one and the representative of the Leech District, He was to return from his vassal prostitution to the Ten Tongues;
The Lord of Marrow, the naked one
and the representative of the Crypt, He was to return from dealings with the government of Kepler,
And the Lord of Shit, the black-robed one and representative of no one but herself, She was to return from vacation on Elrich, scowering the rodent birds for their precious entrails.

The fifth great lord, you know Him well
was the Hanged King, the fairest maiden and the biggest man
who was loved and kissed on His knuckles and toes by all
across the cosmos: He was to return from His undeath,
for His respite was merely temporary; death only impartial.

Tonight, tonight
the four lords would be united, for the first time,
in the performance of a show. The play was
The Passion and The Glory: A biography on the trials of the Hanged King;
though many had told the tragedy, none had told the triumph,
which was the most important part.

The assemblage was to take place in the carnival city's porno theatre:
It was the shade on the street corner of every yellow-bellied brain stem between the Ichor and Leech Districts, on the
avenue between Sodom and Amalek. The theatre was
most akin to a medical operating theatre; there were as many seats as beings in the city and then some; and it was housed in great rows extending upwards and upwards like shingles on a roof;
The tingle of skin on skin as the city filed in to watch--

On the stage were the Lords
and in the back of the theatre on the biggest throne in the realm:
The throne of the Hanged King, it was a visage of a Cross to which His black robes
were stapled to, and too, was He trapped in it by chains; the only freedom He could enjoy was
to move and squirm and jiggle His thighs, for the chains were bound around His pectorals;
Around His head, too, was a sweatband that would keep the hair out of His eyes, and on His eyes were the scalpels, which kept His eyelids free and moisturized with His own Blood.

As His moisture seeped into the seat and then the ground below it, the lights dimmed with click after click.

The audience's moaning and loving wails faded into nothing;
[[=]]
**II**
[[/=]]
The play had thus begun-- the Lords assembled in the shadows of the set, and when
The flaming lights illuminated them once again, they revealed six Crosses of which
dummies and dolls were stacked upon, cut into and pierced by sharp metal, attached to the Crosses thusly; and they took up 3 of the Crosses, the furthermost back ones, and there was one in the center which was empty.

The stage light was eclipsed with a long black disc, and the porno theatre was caked in an eerie glow;
The Lord in Marrow stepped from behind this center Cross;
He spoke, "In Christ in I is there change, and the possibility of endlessness, and the eternal soul is that: For there is something beyond this life, yes, the After-World, where you can always see the sun, day, or night."
The eclipse fluttered.
"I am not to survive this day as declared by that Roman Pharoah; I have been starved and beaten and torn and things have been put inside Me;"
He stepped forward once again and showed his nakedness in the night, his large cock swung between his thighs.
As the wind passed between his legs his hefty ballsack made a sort of whistling noise, like the squealing of a pig, and they resembled this in fact, the seam of his ballsack had been torn, so it resembled a pig's nose.
Something oozed from it thus.

"They have been put inside Me! This Holy Spirit has entered My body upon My baptism, and leaves me today, for I will die and I will die horribly, and slowly."

He bowed his head and knelt before the Cross, facing the audience, and the three other lords emerged behind him.

The Lord of Shit touched his chest and rubbed him in a familial way,
Then her hand grazed his cock and she fluttered away like a moth in the night, and akin to this, she had left the trail of her sludge upon the ground.
The Lord of Urine too emerged and touched his chest but did not touch his cock, she merely ducked beneath him and came upon the audience as a moth's silhouette.

"This Christ must die!" She bellowed, and the Hanged King flinched.
"And we shall do it in the ancient way, in the way of consumption,"

And the Lord of Menstruality emerged with a red plastic tank with a handle and an X inscribed on it.
[[=]]
**III**
[[/=]]
The Lord of Marrow was slashed and rubbed down with the embalming massage oil:
Pure petrol; unrefined oil from the blue-crackling cracks down beneath the sea;
the sea was filled with the digestive toils of the ancient ones, what we would so pitifully
use to build cars and tractors and metal machine men
when we could've and should've been getting naked and lighting ourselves on fire.

"If it shall need be, O Father,
Then allow Me to be Your holocaust:"
(said the Lord of Marrow)

"If the world shall need a sacrifice, then let Me burn, and My ashes become the Soil."

His body was covered in flame, gasoline dribbling down the seam of his nutsack;
They had fattened in the heat, sweating excessively
And the Lord of Marrow fell to his knees his head cradled by his own knees as he was burned, screaming, tarnishing, wailing, and then went silent:

His penis had become erect, only visible in
the stage light for its disjointedness from the rest of the darkened floor
and the audience gasped and watched in silent awe: The Lord crossed
his arms and began to rise upon his very heels, and then
he spread his arms wide, and in the dark appeared to be
a large moth or beast: And he swung his hips in the shade.

The lights on the stage hummed up and
The Lord of Marrow was reborn!
The Lords of Urine, Menstruality, and Shit gathered him up in their robes
and doused him, and they all rose together to smile
and they then returned to the ground: bowed to thunderous applause.
[[=]]
**IIII**
[[/=]]
The Hanged King cheered wildly from His lich-throne:
Deep in the backhand of the audience; He applauded and
whooped and smacked His big thighs, jiggling them
and the mighty flesh meat wobbled deliciously.
"Yes, yes,"
"This was brilliant,"
He rolled over His back and rolled again;
"But I've one note for you, Lord of Marrow, for I have seen but One inaccuracy;"

So the Hanged King gripped the seam of his robes
and threw them off at once, in a great heap;
He spread his jiggling thighs and unveiled
His most soggy and stinking pussy; unwashed and unshaven,
so thick it physically wafted through its big kissable lips
as a current of white dancing steam.

"I would never ask you to mutilate your self, Lord of Marrow,
though I say: You are overdressed!"

The four lords and the Hanged King alike threw their heads back
in deep belly-laughter, and in suit, as did the audience; for there was a merriness in the night
that was not bound by their whiskey nor moonshine nor poppers nor molly; it was
as simple as the sight of that unwashed, quivering thing, taking in its erotic scent, and it was
the closeness to--

The audience filed out quietly into an unlit street
to find the moon had begun to peak out from the crowds;
She whispered,
"Goodnight, you,"
"Goodnight, //you//,"
"Goodnight,"
"Goodnight,"
"Goodnight,
goodnight, yes, goodnight."

"And goodbye, till 'morrow."
O sweet love;
Osiris and Oracle, if you only knew
how much that 'morrow meant, for:
[[=]]
**IIIII**
[[/=]]
In the still of the night,
five satins were ruffled by the window sill,
and in the yellow sky, a [[[illcovetyouifyoucoverme |black sun]]]
began to rise over a silent day.
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The Superstar

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