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THIRTY Ds
Bob relished his groinsaw's roar as he withdrew the flesh-choked blade from the astronaut's ruined skull. He turned to DYRE, thrusting his bloody, retina-covered pelvis with elfin fervor.
"How does INUHy INUH taste, master?"
DYRE spat out an eyeball. "Like some kid with eyes."
Bob ducked an astronaut's poison barbed fist, digging his groinsaw into the beast's abdomen and letting the spray of viscera wash over his elfin space armor. The skulls' eye sockets on his shoulders grew brilliant with an infernal cast and vomited a bolt of light through an astronaut; he was thrown back against the deathwall, his flesh boiling in another dimension.
DYRE slapped Bob, who giggled.
DYRE reminded himself to kill himself later.
"Master, look out!"
Bob's groinsaw screamed as it flew off the armor, rocketing through the air like an early dream of mankind. It flew through three astronauts who dropped their hellspears as the saw cut a hole in the ground beneath them so they fell to hell and the demonic spheres rape them to this day, boys and girls.
"How does INUHy INUH taste, master?"
DYRE spat out an eyeball. "Like some kid with eyes."
Bob ducked an astronaut's poison barbed fist, digging his groinsaw into the beast's abdomen and letting the spray of viscera wash over his elfin space armor. The skulls' eye sockets on his shoulders grew brilliant with an infernal cast and vomited a bolt of light through an astronaut; he was thrown back against the deathwall, his flesh boiling in another dimension.
DYRE slapped Bob, who giggled.
DYRE reminded himself to kill himself later.
"Master, look out!"
Bob's groinsaw screamed as it flew off the armor, rocketing through the air like an early dream of mankind. It flew through three astronauts who dropped their hellspears as the saw cut a hole in the ground beneath them so they fell to hell and the demonic spheres rape them to this day, boys and girls.
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Bob knelt before his master.
DYRE withdrew his guitar, Fuckslayer, from a dimension where all screamed for naught.
Wrought from the silver heart of heaven's false promise, laced with vessels that pulsed with angel's menstrual blood, hewn from the horns of Satan's generals, it laughed as it was set loose, a laugh that only DYRE could hear, but no one could share.
DYRE swung the guitar through Bob's chicken neck. He took the head of his fallen dwarfslave and tore open his stomach, stuffing the head inside. DYRE vomited steam and summoned a great meteor from space to smash into Hogwarts and kill everyone there, for no reason at all. A vision then appeared. It was Glenn Magus Harvey, entombed in his cursed mummy armor, calling DYRE from his Moonbase which wasn't on a moon.
"DYRE, you must rock the fuck out."
DYRE channeled his rage through Fuckslayer. The angel blood boiled as he summoned the great meteor, swathed with the blood of the tiny fucklings at Hogwarts, leapt onto it, and flew into space. He encased the entire meteor in a wreath of holy fuckfire and flew through Mercury, killing the fuck out of it. Then he sent Mercury's carcass into Venus, killing the fuck out of it and making every vagina in the galaxy explode, and inside every vagina a booby sang of mortal life's fleeting precipice.
DYRE then did fly his meteor through space, punching astral vampires in half with his fists encased in fuckfire and throwing their ruined heads into the past where they bit cavemen on mars so that history changed and now there are vampire cavemen on mars. DYRE received another vision from Mlenn Gagus Hervey, who was having tea and chumpits with the president of Pangea.
"Care to have tea, DYRE?"
"You know how I hate chumpits."
DYRE slammed his book shut. It wasn't really a book, because the pages were made of lasers and the words were made of headless women making godless love to dragons made out of motorcycles, but it was still reading.
"GHM, if you don't stop, we'll starve, and no one will be around to kill everyone in the universe if we get around to bringing everyone back to life after we killed them."
"I am no longer MHG."
The ancient man dropped some of the planets he was juggling.
"The worlds have shifted. I am HGM, of the Darkmeal."
He flexed one of his legs, which was made of pistols, and kicked a planet in half.
"Bugger your Darkmeal, faggart of a thousand suns."
Glanus Magus Hellnen sniffed.
"And what of it? Is it a sin, should a man feel like faggarting a sun or a thousand? Why should the suns heave through the void, if not to be skewer't bypon ourn fagpoles?"
DYRE cast a glance at the book. Unsavory sounds emanated from a particularly damned chapter. He was hungry. He looked at a nearby cup. It had a faded brown film on the bottom. He thought about chumpits.
DYRE was about to eat his cabbagewich when a man in a tuxedo appeared from behind nothing much. He stood ten feet tall and his head seemed wrapped in unwrappable darkness.
"I am Forced Sex Forzare. I write critically acclaimed fiction that always turns into fact. That's why I have more money than anyone."
DYRE dug a bit of cartilage out of the cabbagewich and continued chewing.
"Would you care to discuss one of my books? I hear that my..."
DYRE fished out another bit of cartilage. It was a cartilage and mustard sandwich.
"You shouldn't believe what everyone says about me. I took a shower with my cousin, once. And I have racist thoughts."
A nibbet of yellow cartilage landed on Forced Sex's shoe. He thought about his cousin.
First, Ian Ex Machina's used the rock.
Then Schitzo asked DYRE if he wanted to read his BDSM blog. DYRE was so surprised that his pants flew right off. He was wearing women's underpants.
The inquisitors were wearing them, too.
They realized that they were all men of the lord.