fudgetusk
10-21-2017, 05:43 AM
Livid Junk
Trink knocks on the red and green door with his pink fist. Somewhere in his mind a gypsy caravan explodes expelling black ghosts; somewhere in the mind of one of those ghosts Trink knocks on a red and green door with his pink fist.
The door opens revealing a white ghost. Somewhere in the mind of the white ghost a six foot man with pink fists is standing outside her door.
"Can I help you?" she asks.
"Yes, I'm looking for a mister Frox."
"I know no mister Frox."
"I think you once did," Trink insists; somewhere in his mind is a red thing with three wheels and frost covered antlers trundling back and forth in a yellow room.
"Yes...yes...yes..." the white ghost says, her white hands fondling the white rosary beads around her neck.
"I believe he's in your mind,"Trink informs her, and smiles revealing sharp black teeth.
"The clergy have demonised mister Frox, I now recall."
"And now he lives in your mind to protect himself from sick prayers and vile ceremonies."
"But you have knocked on the wrong door, you should have knocked on the back door."
"Why is that?"
"The back door gives access to my subconscious."
Somewhere in Trink's mind a black balloon bursts revealing a floating white cube.
Trink knocks on the red and green door with his pink fist. Somewhere in his mind a gypsy caravan explodes expelling black ghosts; somewhere in the mind of one of those ghosts Trink knocks on a red and green door with his pink fist.
The door opens revealing a white ghost. Somewhere in the mind of the white ghost a six foot man with pink fists is standing outside her door.
"Can I help you?" she asks.
"Yes, I'm looking for a mister Frox."
"I know no mister Frox."
"I think you once did," Trink insists; somewhere in his mind is a red thing with three wheels and frost covered antlers trundling back and forth in a yellow room.
"Yes...yes...yes..." the white ghost says, her white hands fondling the white rosary beads around her neck.
"I believe he's in your mind,"Trink informs her, and smiles revealing sharp black teeth.
"The clergy have demonised mister Frox, I now recall."
"And now he lives in your mind to protect himself from sick prayers and vile ceremonies."
"But you have knocked on the wrong door, you should have knocked on the back door."
"Why is that?"
"The back door gives access to my subconscious."
Somewhere in Trink's mind a black balloon bursts revealing a floating white cube.