the (real, yet unfinished) gospel according to harold
i created this gospel ages ago and never published it. i don't like publishing my creations when they haven't quite escaped the clutches of the egg-shell. given that madman posted something to do with this gospel, i felt compelled to publish it, even in it's unfinished form. i doubt i will complete it anytime soon. enjoy...
THE GOSPEL ACCORDING TO HAROLD
This documentary is completely accurate in all forms. It is intended to give an insight to how the messiah was born and grew up, and eventually succumbed to the evil forces of alcoholic beverages. The affect of alcohol on the brain of the author did not result in any inaccuracies in this gospel. To thank for this error checking, purchase a reliable and respected copy of Microsoft® Word XP™, as it can translate your Neanderthal ramblings into a keyboard input device into legible prose, understandable by the public at large, for the current language. You were not meant to read this.
The End of the Motherland
After the great civil war, which consumed the entire continent for more than sixty nine years in a cloud of radioactive vapours; the land became empty. The barren landscape was littered by insignificant pockets of crooked homo-sapiens, who had braved the civil war completely nude. The exposed carbon based flesh had managed to mutate itself from the radioactive vapour, this meant only one thing. The continent of Milton Keynes was full of the living dead. The decomposed glowing beings merged into the scenery, meaning the international transportation and observation probes sent over the continent had found nothing.
The landscape glowed in a strange rhythmical pattern which was similar to the bus station’s neon sign which was here on this spot almost four hundred and eighty five years ago – almost next Tuesday if you count Cyrill’s summer time. A particular individual would be born on this square millimetre of barren landscape…
The Spit and Swallow, a Local Public House
Three men, all of unique prime age, were drinking the local brew, known as an Orange Braintree. This particular aqueous solution was formed by a unique blend of the local Orange tree in the suburb of Braintree, outside the house of the local moonshine producer. This is placed in a lead vase, and mixed with the contents of five vodka bottles and two fishing trawlers. The resulting compound is mixed into fine dough and melted at high temperature. There it is treated with a splash of the finest drink available, albeit in limited form after the destruction of the Guinness plant in Ireland at the beginning of the Women’s Right’s marches. This is then poured into pewter barrels and sold at a loss, in a shop which sells nothing other than crushed mint stalks.
The men slowly sipped their 53.18008% volume alcoholic beverage, while admiring the local scenery emigrating from a local prostitute agency. Fred, Dick, and Harry stared at the agency, as many of the female species queued up, sporting very little to the imagination. In a bead of sweat, dripping at the uppermost point of a tender inner thigh, the reflection of a massive light could be seen from the sky. Dick decided to look outside at the magnificent spectacle. The old individual staggered outside, admiring the glowing particles flowing through the radioactive vapours contained within the environment.
An argument ensued, resulting in all three men having slight bruising to the right temple upon the cranium. An accurate medical report on the condition of the three faithful could not be obtained for intergalactical legal reasons beyond the control of this innocent gospel writer.
The corruptive effects of the Orange Braintree enforced the men to set out on a voyage into the depths of Milton Keynes to follow this light. They continued for millennia, the radioactivity aiding in their aging medical condition and helping them to grow mice to the size of a small compact family automobile with a Japanese origin. This helped nourish the individuals on their trek into the unknown of the forgotten lands out there.
1mm2 of the Local Bus Station
Eventually the three men arrived, albeit it minus two limbs because Harry was hungry just before they passed the M1. Harry then threw-up the limbs on the other side of the motorway. When they arrived, the light they had been following had vanished. The men looked upon the ground, and found a woman in birth. The three individuals all fainted, leaving the woman to endure a long painful and drawn out labour process of five and half nanoseconds last Wednesday. The baby was deposited in the local bank’s safe deposit box overnight. Harry woke up first and opened the overnight safe deposit bank using the half digested leg which used to belong to Dick. Desperate, Harry ate the baby. This time, he managed to consume the product without resorting to expelling it at a high velocity along with his stomach contents.
Bored, tired and restless, the three staggered back to the public house for another night of staring across the road.
The Emperor of Milton Keynes is now Awake
On the eve of the ungrateful deployment of Spanish pottery products to the continent of Milton Keynes, the international government, which had gained power of the continent by trafficking organically manufactured sunflower seeds; was intent on halting a problem of epidemic proportions.
The emperor took a sip of his uniquely flavoured raspberry leaf tonic water and looked at the circular table which was fashioned from recycled turtle intestines. Surrounding the table were five other representatives – four and a half human, the other half – horse (there was a Minotaur present.) The province of London Road was arguing against the council of the blessed M1, about the situation of refugees from the public house called the Spit and Swallow, which existed on London Road, who were migrating every now and then to cross the motorway. Apparently the problem involved several joy riders who were bent on causing death by friction burns. The joy riders would apply a solution of thick araldite to the rear and sides of their automobiles, and proceed to travel at extortionately high speeds along the motorway. This would result in the adventurous road crossers becoming attached to the solution, where they would be quickly worn away into the concrete motorway surface.
This was the only point that the province of London Road could think about, due to the local prostitute agency being across the road from their offices above the Spit and Swallow Public House.
The gentlemen decided that no action should be taken, other than the council of the blessed M1 moving the portable lavatories to the other side of the motorway, to avoid any more incidents.
The Route towards the Bus Station
Fred, Dick and Harry had all fallen asleep on the other side of the M1. As the second sun rose above the barren landscape, a moving operation was starting. Five Aston Martin Vanquish Lorries were crossing the motorway with portable lavatories inside them. The portable lavatories were then carefully lowered into their place using an oversized spoon as a leaver, using the crash barrier as a fulcrum. Nevertheless, a problem had occurred, which the engineers were ignorant to as they left.
Indecent Exposure to Ultra Violet Radiation
The emperor of the continent of Milton Keynes was immobile, sitting in the same position, and sampling the same obtusely flavoured tonic water that the individual had been sampling approximately forty-eight hours ago. The other members of the dictatorship had left, leaving the emperor in the darkness of the room, with the select music of Master Elton John, who had just finished potty-training using a special toilet he bought at the extortionate price of five and an eighth of a peseta.
A cleaner by the name of Agnes was walking by, cleaning the oversized goose statue made of broken ostrich eggs. The available light became less available, as the cleaner approached the emperor, “don’t mind me, just cleaning the dust off this place…” She said as she wiped a jiffy cloth over the emperor’s bald and decaying head. Agnes placed the heavy and lumpy jiffy cloth in her basket and walked off.
Slide – Dido, Track 1, 128kbps, 44 kHz
Down the massive tube which was heading towards the expensive district surrounding the sewage works, Fred Dick and Harry fell. The engineers had placed the portable lavatories on top of them and had wired the complicated waste disposal system up with them inside it. The three were still sleeping, unaware of their state. They were sliding down the trail, into a large pit that was Harlow Sewage Centre, where they slid to their eventual end.
Christmas Day Is Here and Nobody Knows It
The big drop was approaching. This is when Fred Dick and Harry would fall to their deaths as they slid down the pipe which leads to the expensive district surrounding the sewage works. They were about to land in an empty pit, made of solid concrete exported from the local corner shop. It began in slow motion, as Harry’s life flashed before him. “Beer, prozzies, beer, prozzies, beer, prozzies, beer, prozzies, beer, prozzies…” Harry fell on the last trip of his life, while thunder and lightning burnt the scenery. Harry fell into the concrete, splitting in two, yet something was different.
Standing up amongst the rain and deceased internal organs of Harry was a man, standing proud, wearing black everything. Shaking off an eyeball from his shoulder, the man walked off, into the distance of the continent of Milton Keynes.
The Followers Are Chosen
The following months from Harry’s sad death (nobody cared to think about the fates of Fred and Dick ;) life in the continent had continued like normal, acknowledging that this was the calm before a massive storm of trouble. The man seen briefly leaving the stomach of Harry had vanished into thin air (not literately…) and nobody knew what was going on.
It has Something to do with Fish, or so you Thought
After a brief intermission of fifty-one weeks, the writer of the gospel had become misplaced under the supremacy of the narcotics which were being progressively infused with his soul. The gifted purveyor of the said narcotics was a professional in the vigour of the spirit. A mass of individuals had gathered in the relatively warm and calm surroundings of the beach around this gifted purveyor. There stood an additional man, standing mutely adjacent to the aquatic system, wearing robes of comprehensive blackness, glazed in the entrails of an elapsed human. His eyes fixed on the gifted purveyor, distracting the informal onlooker’s concentration away from the hefty corpulent crimson and lavender wearing elf that stood knee shallow in the opaque water. Having forgotten about being in public, the elf proceeded to wade further into the monstrously bitter water, reacting steadily with its philosophical hydrogen based compounds.
Matter Withstanding
The gifted purveyor started to preach his message, “gleebleborp,” he begun, stunning the crowd with the almighty rumble of his outstretched vocal cords. He inhaled more abundant gas, and preceded to his next expression, “gleebleborp will come down upon us and outstretch his arms to encircle us all in might!” The amassed collection of fools looked befuddled, why was this insane personality preaching such portentous nonsense?
The entrailed covered darkly clothed individual was not bemused, he began to carefully compute the curve of his fist in movement headed for to upper left hand incisor of the gifted purveyor’s ruthless mouth. After a few minutes of careful calculation, the fruity elf became distracted from the gifted purveyor’s meaningful converse, and decided to look at a more appeasing soul. The elf’s eyes turned towards the darkly clothed entrailed individual, who was emitting a faint glow, not dissimilar to the shine of an ultra fine blue light emitting diode sporadically blinking in a profuse manner.
Time began to slow down, and the air turned into a liquid as the multiverse ground to a halt. Pleased with himself, the darkly clothed creature proceeded to slide over to the gifted purveyor, where he performed his calculations in the third dimension, knocking the incisor clean out of the preacher’s soggy oral cavity. The darkly clothed mortal moved through the liquid air back to the position where he once stood, then with a stare at the sun, and a minor case of blindness, the multiverse sprang back into action, time continued it’s steady pace.
Spontaneous Spontaneity
The audience was stunned as the preacher halted in mid prose and flew backwards, whilst a vivid sapphire incisor flew away, looking akin to the fuzz on the fine cookie monster.
Exceptionally evocative verbal communication generated by këö¬t’s cranium cavity over numerous nights with the assistance of a spellchecker to support in the translation of his indiscriminate tapings on a board of well situated keys manufactured out of China’s most excellent and indeed authentic plastic. Copyright the cranium cavity mentioned in the preceding sentence for the two thousandth and third year addidom domina.
by keot, posted on Thursday, 06. May 2004 @ 2312.47 bst
|
