A Deep Down Dig
As soon as the demon called on me from his ridiculous and undeserved throne. As his beady little eyes entered my sphere, I was so intertwined with it that I could smell it’s breath containing all of its intentions to imitate. It was to imitate each and every “villain” it had ever known or come into contact with. It was the same old fucking story, and I simply didn’t have the time, interest, or quota of ignorance handy to engage. It, and the rest of the crowd, were going to follow each other into the abyss of eternity whether I made some sort of heroic monologue or not, and I was laughing. I didn’t care enough. I was here for Freedom, and no one holds the key to my Freedom except for my Self.
“Get over here my sweet sweet ass!!’” I called to my four legged companion while it neighed and grunted reluctantly yet enthusiastically. “We are going down.” And we both began to dig furiously in our own special ways. It had then occurred to me that it was only me digging with both my hands and my feet like I was swimming in the water as a dog would. There was no donkey. What was that then? Why? I was fast. My core was engaged. I was killing it. Dan, to my left, couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He wondered if he’d ever have that kind of guts.
Meanwhile, I had been reported to the authority of goons so now they were after me with bats, clubs, a crucifix, a Judas cradle, a pyre, a noose, a “trial,” “laws,”and like what had to be 50,000 assault rifles and stones and were climbing the edifices up to where I was hysterically cackling in the dirt, past the fire, digging like it was nothing. A Man! The beast looked hurt, distracted, sad, and sick like a petulant infant who wet the bed and is a little cold looking for Ma-Ma. He was still pretending to shout orders or something like that.
And I was so glad to see it.
I think I shocked it so much there wouldn’t be a “boss battle” at all and that I didn’t care about it’s legacy.
The goons fired shots down my rabbit hole