Ethereal Theater of the Absurd, Part 3

The human affirms his humanity as demons tempt. To be human is wonderful.


THE REST OF IT GOES HERE
.
Guimond/ETHEREAL THEATER 9
“I didn’t try to rape her!”
THEN HOW DID YOUR SEMEN JUST HAPPEN TO OOZE FROM YOUR
LITTLE TESTICULAR PUDDING FACTORIES ONTO THIS GOOD WOMAN’S
STOMACH?
“No, but.”
GOD IS LISTENING. GOD KNOWS WHEN YOU’VE BEEN SLEEPING.
GOD KNOWS WHEN YOU’RE AWAKE. GOD KNOWS WHEN YOU’VE BEEN
BAD OR GOOD SO BE--
“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, God! You should know the answer then.”
HOW DARE YOU BLASPHEME THE LAMB OF ME! HE DIED FOR YOU.
“Sorry your honor, but if you’re omniscient shouldn’t you know the answer.”
ARE YOU TRYING TO TRICK GOD?
“I’m just asking, don’t you know what happened?”
God banged the rattle over and over against his knee, during which the humans
winced and covered their ears. Then, setting down the rattle, God thundered forth a
bubbling, juicy, malodorous anal emission, and chuckled. GOD SHARTED! HA HA HA.
“You shit yourself,” Ernest yelped, slapping a hand to his nose.
GOD HAD TOO MANY TACOS. HA HA HA. GOD LOVES TACOS!
“Who’s gonna change your diaper?” Ernest asked. Green, serpentine clouds
slithered by. Everyone coughed and wheezed. One of the little girls fainted. Ernest lifted
her up and flung her over his shoulder, holding her with one hand by the back of her knee
as her twin stayed conscious, still pressed to Ernest’s thigh and clinging to his left leg.
Guimond/ETHEREAL THEATER 10
Meanwhile, taking advantage of diverted eyes, Janice dipped an index finger into her
stomach-glaze, sniffed at it, then licked it clean.
GOD WILL ATTEND TO ALL WARDROBE CHANGES WHEN GOD IS
GOOD AND READY.
You ain’t gettin’ off easy, motherfucker, Ernest thought, the holy vapors subsid-
ing. God’s diversionary tactics be damned.
GOD MAY BE FULL OF SHIT SOMETIMES BUT CAN STILL READ YOUR
MIND. GOD FEARS NOT YOUR PUNY QUESTIONS, MORTAL. CONTINUE
THY DEFENSE!
“Thanks God,” Ernest said, grinning. “As I was saying, not only did I not try to
rape the lady, I wasn’t even thinking of her when Ernie Junior started spittin’ up. It was
an uncivilized little accident.”
GOD RECOGNIZES NO ACCIDENTS! SINS OF THE HEART ARE AS BAD
AS SINS OF COMMISSION. WHO WERE YOU TRYING TO RAPE IN YOUR
MIND?
The girl, draped over Ernest’s shoulder, stirred. Her dangling feet kicked play-
fully against his leg, curious toes occasionally grazing the erect shaft. “I wasn’t, uh.”
BRAIN SOILED BY BAD THOUGHTS AGAIN?
“I wasn’t thinking of raping anyone in my mind. I never do! It’s just that.”
PLEASE ILLUMINATE GOD ON YOUR STRAY REVERIES, FILTHY
PERVERT!
“You made me, monster! You made my mind, even the dark places, so who the
Guimond/ETHEREAL THEATER 11
fuck are you to stand in judgment of me--your creation?”
GOD IS LOVING AND INDULGENT. CONTINUE THINE CONFESSION!
“A man gets thoughts, you know, and they’re not always holy.” The little girl’s
feet seized Ernest’s penis on either side. She started rubbing. Back and forth, back and
forth. From her unseen face Ernest heard giggles. I’m Jesus in the desert; I’m Buddha
amid the tempting nymphs; I will not be moved. Ernest struggled to focus, closing his
eyes, opening them. “Here’s the gist of it, God. Janice was a wreak of weeping con-
fusion, and I consoled her. That was good, right?”
GOD GUESSES SO. GO ON.
“Good God, I mean--ah!” The other nymphet, no longer fearful and bored with
all the God-stuff, tickled her sister’s feet, quickening the rubbing frenzy on Ernest’s meat.
Hold your spunk, hold your spunk, Ernest exhorted himself. God help me.
GOD ALWAYS HAS A HELPING HAND TO LEND. HA HA HA. GO ON.
“Ok, uh--I consoled poor Janice, and she was so needy and pitiful that my
thoughts shot out to my Aunt Dora, who would heave herself upon me in much the, uh uh
same way.”
GOD UNDERSTANDS! YOU WERE DREAMING OF GOOD TIMES WITH
AUNTIE.
“Well no, ah ah--I mean yes. I did have good times with her. She accepted me
with all my foibles and eccentricities like, ah, no one else. Time stood still for us and we
kissed and held each other, and it was good and proper, our physical contact, nothing
wrong with it! But oh!” At that moment the girl stopped tickling her sister’s feet, grasped
Guimond/ETHEREAL THEATER 12
Ernest’s sputtering engorgement, a cock-headed look of wonder in her wild green eyes,
and tugged like a pro.
GOD IS PATIENT. YOU SAID NOTHING WAS WRONG, BUT. BUT
WHAT?
“But, uh, aunt Dora had this smell, see. It was uh, how do I put it, ah.”
AROUSING?
“Uh, uh, no. Not arousing. Nothing so unsavory. It was more like heaven.”
LIKE THIS PLACE?
“Huh? Ah--fuck no! It was like when we were together, and hugging and kissing
and loving each other with perfect empathy, it was uh, uh--we were one. One in spirit,
and she smelled like crushed lilacs, her breasts against me, ah fuck. I mean thinking of
sweet Dora in that other woman’s arms, my spirit soared again with the old ecstasy, and
my poor soul, uh ah, and my flesh, my body kinda went wild from the spirit’s buzz and,
uh--oh no! oh no!--I, I.”
“Yucky, yucky,” cried the unsuspecting handjobstress, wiping at the gelatinous
junk now covering her breast-spots. Ernest, shuddering and shame-faced, set the other
girl down and covered his guilty genitals with both hands. The unsoiled foot-masseuse,
standing again and ignoring her sister’s plight, gave Ernest’s hands a bratty pout.
“I want my toy back, mister! Where’d it go? I want it.” She pulled at those hands.
“Bad toy, Mary. Bad toy,” the soiled one shouted, fingers dripping viscousness.
“It barfed on me!”