There was a clitoris in a parting of the clouds into which a god in the form of an eagle man fertilized a new obnoxious universe. I was a journalist at the time, covering the irritating daughter of the reigning idiot's wedding. There in the pit of darkness grim I found a marble bridesmaid suitable for collecting. Together we met a remarkably castrated beast reclining in a fold of beef and talked him into subverting the reigning idiot's comatose agents. When this became a dull sport we wandered back to the ceremony. The wedding was concluding upon our arrival and the expressions of the participants gave us the impression it must have been a pitiful success. We longed for some inhuman distraction so we joined the exhausted eagle man on his perch and begged for the details, be they gruesome or sweet, of his creation experience. After some spirited cajoling he explained to us that the cloud clitoris had been very gentle with him but that at present he was completely sapped of energy and no longer wished to talk. His beak described a vulgar smirk after this last remark and the sun sparked (presumably because it had gotten wet).

More stories...