Thursday, September 18, 2008

 

The Procession


-I heard you before you got here. We take the profits, you
get the losses.

-Our mantra. We have bankers, brokers, insurance dudes. And your
government, John Q, in its infinite wisdom and in loving memory of
our generous bribes, has bailed us all out.

-And now you're celebrating. In togas, yet. Wrong look
for fat, pink shoulders. Except the women swarming around.
They sure look wild. Some frenzy!

-They're a part of a serious, religious, ritual. Our Dionysian
explosion of gratefulness. Prodigious Screwing comes later.
All for the right reasons.

-And the wine, phew! Everywhere. Perhaps you could spare...?

-Not a chance! Not your end of things. We don't flick
any fuckin flagons to finks.

-No harm in asking.

-Ah that’s where you’re wrong. Great harm! Know your place!

-Wow! Three guys carrying an immense dick!

-Vulgarity entirely inappropriate! It is a sacramental object!

-What will you do with it?

-Stick around.

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