What is it, get up little Ethy, another one of your bad dreams? Jesus Christ you just woke up the entire fucking monastery, lights are going on left and right, and you know they aren’t just flicking a bunch of electric switches, they had to get out of bed and strike a spark from their flintboxes over and over and over, and over, was how loud you were screaming.
Whewwwee! So you’ve wet your small hard vermin-rid mattress again, if my nose does not deceive me. Well that is one way to make sure the bed bugs don’t bite…your willy.
A willy is a cock, Brother Ethernan. A willy, dong, schlong, prick, dick, shaft, rod, weenie, Bananensplit, and johnson all mean pecker.
Holy shit, calm down little novice! What’s that, you say I should never say the word johnson? What have they been doing to you up in this hayloft? Hey, it is just a word, like ribbon or scythe.
Whoa there, Nelly! Sit down before you hurt yourself, or Prior Spock has to dunk you in the pond again to git out the devils. Dawg, you good, now just tell me what was this nightmare about.
Yes, of course there was a tall man riding a dark horse.
Except the horse had wheels. My my, that is NOT in Revelations. Oh but you say that it is, that the cherubim had wheels? No my young friend, those were its knockers. Cherubim have KNOCKERS, Ethernan, aka titties.
Just kidding, fine, calm down! You’re going to give yourself a coronary for fuck sake, ave Maria. So there was a tall man on a dark horse except it had wheels. Let me guess, the horse was black.
Yes, twas a black steed, okay. Tall man, black steed, wheels, what more?
A horrible racket. As it moved through the grasses and rabbits, birds, foxes, deer and all the animals of the field and creatures of the air fled before its unspeakable roar, the man twirled invisible scythes beneath the belly of this black horse?
Come on, Brother Ethy, you have got SOME imagination.
And these scythes cut down the tall grasses in long rows, and the man would not be content to let a single blade of grass stand upon what he called his yard?
I am getting the heebie jeebies, little monk. I think you may indeed be completely off yer rocker!
Okay okay tell me the rest. There was lemonade, a beautiful housewife in a short skirt who run from a suburban palace in her bare feet, is this when you made the mess in your tick, little Brother?
And the man wore a funny hat with the brim covering only his nose so that you could not see his eyes, but they were icy dark and mean? And the hat was green and yeller, like a jester’s, and the man took the lemonade from astride his black pony, and the woman was his accomplice, for she pointed out a patch of grass (and the grass surely represents the human souls the man was mowing for his dark harvest) on the far side of the ‘yard’, which was the Earth, and he drove off on his wheeled nag to gather every last stalk.
Well that is a crazy dream, little whipper-snapper, I do admit. I would get myself out of that soggy raiment, wash up, and see if Brother Pecker-would lend you a sheet or something for the rest of the night.
One more thing, okay okay, leggo my scapular you maniac. Yes?
The hat said WHAT? What in the heck does that mean? Maybe it was his name.
It was the name of his lord, you claim? Ah yes of course, for the man was surely branded with the mark of the Beast.
John Deere, you say. Well I say no more mutton for you on weeknights, little feller.
Clean this place up, it stinks worse than a nun back from market on Good Friday.
Image generated on Magic Studio
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No. 52
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