_______________________________________________________________________________ _ _ _ _ ((___)) ((___)) [ x x ] cDc communications [ x x ] \ / presents... \ / (` ') (` ') (U) (U) SESAME ST. POSSESSION by Swamp Rat >>> A CULT Publication......1988 <<< -cDc- CULT OF THE DEAD COW -cDc- _______________________________________________________________________________ This story was written for a test in my senior (HS) English class. I hope you like it. The teacher did.... John was twelve years old. It was summer vacation and John had been enjoying his time, wallowing in boredom. What better to do than sit on the living room floor and watch the local PBS station on the family TV? Ah, bliss. After several hours of this, his eyes and mind began to glaze over as "Sesame Street" eventually came on. Little did he know the program was to be his ultimate downfall into a new world of bizarre occult nightmares.... After an extended period of watching fuzzy puppets with speech impediments tell bad jokes to small, inarticulate minority children and indigent senior citizens, a strange feeling came over John.... He began to see visions in his head, visions he'd never seen before... visions of plump puppets; impaling each other with forks, suffocating themselves with oven mitts, and flying kites with large yellow birds. Then, the image of a dozen red ladybugs hopping around in a circle, counting, burned itself into his brain. John imagined himself to be a ladybug and began to circle around the room on the plush carpet. "...ten eleven twelve... and they all gathered 'round... at the ladybugs' picnic!" The words screamed immutably from his lips along with bits of spittle in his excitement. John was changing... Bubbling, John rushed to the kitchen, and with a histrionic voice began beating with his tender young fists on the garbage can underneath the sink. "Oscar!" he yelled, "Oscar! The sun is the north! The time is now! Rise, Oscar, rise!" Mad with rage, he then lurched for his bedroom, grabbing a large knife from a counter-top rack on his way out. "Die! Die, you pagan bastard!" The words exploded with passion and shook his once-peaceful room. John incessantly began to stab his Fred Flintstone Bop Bag with the blade of gleaming stainless steel. "Die die die!" ... his screams continued to ejaculate from his furious mouth as the cheery yellow inflatable toy became a sullen pile of deflated, insane hatred on the floor. John grinned.... Impervious to rational thought, John was now a slave to Oscar the Grouch. Climbing on the bed, John projectile-vomited his Oatsy-Toatsy- Spiffy-Puff Cereal(tm) on the wall for good measure, which glistened upon the glossy wallpaper as it flowed to the floor. Satisfaction would be his. Laughing hysterically, he dashed to the garage where he rummaged among the bits of miscellaneous trash until he found it... the gasoline container. Barely able to control his shaking hands, John managed to uncap the container which he raised high above his head and saturated his body with the flammable liquid. John's laughter had become an inhuman shriek as he struck the match.... - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Demon Roach Underground......login:xxxxxx...new:xxxx.......806/794-4362 =============================================================================== (c)1988 cDc communications by Swamp Rat 7/5/88-63