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Toxic Shock 054
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presents
Fetus Takes A Day Off
by Gross Genitalia
Toxic File #54
Centre of Eternity 615.552.5747 HQ of Toxic Shock and The Esoteric Society
[TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS]
There comes a time in every person in a tight leadership position to
take a break. The work and responsibility becomes so great and the
pressure forces you just to take a day or two off to relieve it all.
Fetus the Almighty stands as no exception.
But Fetus takes a day off whenever he fucking feels like it.
[TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS]
Fetus had been sitting on His High Mighty White Cloud Toilet Paper Roll
in the Sky and directed the administration of coathanger-based abortions on
Planet Earth. He had punished those whom he despised by ordering an aborted
or miscarriaged fetal follower to mutilate them and steal their souls for
His pleasure and occasional use. But all of this just plain got to Fetus, and
He felt burdened by his responsibility and told all his co-workers to fuck off
and have a hell of a vacation. This was known as The Day That No Fetuses Were
Decreed. No abortions were performed, no people mangled by the demonic fetuses.
The Follower of Fetus Bloody Afterbirth was allowed to just fucking leave
for a few days and go visit a good friend in Germany and get some Euro-Wares
for Fetal Service. Fetal Juice took a nice Jamaican vacation, caught some rays,
and worked on some y-modem routines for a board program. Fetus decided to
take a daring venture to earth. But what fun would that be, if there were no
records to show the fetality of his adventures? He decreed Gross Genitalia
to record the events in a manuscript just as he had a manuscript of his venture
to the future for the End of All Times. Gross and Fetus transported through
a blazing beam of afterbirth to Planet Earth, and Gross had pen and fetus
tissue-papyrus in hand. It went something like this.
The Two of Fetal Power arrived at the Planet Earth place. It was dismal
smog-covered blue-and-greenish ball of dirt. It was covered with carbon-based
ape-descended lifeforms that seemingly knew nothing whatsoever about Life
and Its meaning. This was noted on the Almighty Fetal Papyrus as a notable
quality of the life of which inhabited that place where Fetus would spend his
vacation.
There was no need for Fetus to check into a hotel. He laughed at the idea
of sleep and comfort. He mystically levitated a Howard Johnson's some fifty
feet into the air. He held it there to get the attention of all the onlooking
human-units. Cops arrived in vehicles adorned with perturbing flashing
blue lights. Firemen arrived, as well as ambulances. Fetus had the attention
of everyone, and decided to please them with a spectacular fireworks display.
With the wave of his hand, Fetus blew up the Howard Johnson's, occupants
and all. Debris was shattered for miles and miles around, killing several in
the process. Everyone was quite impressed, for they ran away. Apparently they
were going out among their fellow humans to notify them of this wonderful
display of affection by an apparently unknown source.
If Fetus and Gross were to spend their vacation in this Land of Humans,
they might as well fit in. Fetus chanted something inaudible to Gross and
they suddenly materialized into male human figures. Well, they decided they
might as well fit in and check into a hotel. So they chose the Holiday Inn,
and spared it mercy from another fireworks show.
They rented a spectacular, sparkling Cadillac Fleetwood and drove it about
this human town. Fetus instructed Gross not to disclose the name of this
particular city as all worldly cities were the same, filled with completely
unfit, unintelligent carbon lifeforms. They stopped into the most famous of
human junk food joints, yes, over 70 billion served. McDonalds. Fetus stood
in awe at the Great Golden Arch as he flashed back on the McDonald's
Conspiracy. He remembered how he contrived to use "fuck-for-a-burger"
discipleship. They entered the eating place, fully disguised as human beings,
normal, and accepted by the humans.
They stepped up to the counter.
"Welcome to McDonalds! May I take your order?"
Fetus laughed. "Heh heh sorry. Uh yes, I'd like a Big Mac, large order
of fries, and a medium Coke."
It felt so good to say this. An entity of much higher evolution than
humans, a deity in his own rights, bereaving himself to human level.
"And you sir?" The hostess addressed Gross Genitalia.
"Yes, I'd like a 20-piece Chicken McNuggets, small fries, and an
ice-cold Bud."
"Sir, I'm sorry, we don't serve alcoholic beverages."
"I WANT...a BUDWEISER. PLEASE." Gross became very stern. Fetus
telepathically told him, "Nah, don't make a scene." Gross replied, "It shall
be fun." Fetus smiled, and this was the only sign Gross needed.
"Sir, we do NOT sell beer. We have coke, diet coke, Dr. Pepper..."
"..I don't CARE what you've GOT, damnit. I want a FUCKING...BUD...BEER!"
"If there's a problem, you can gladly speak to our manager. Please,
control your language in front of our other customers, sir," whispered the
hostess, as not to make a scene.
"Get me a gaddam beer you bitch!" Gross beamed a gun in from a policeman's
holster, who was standing out in the parking lot, by means of Fetal Tele-
Kinesis. What's this? A .38 caliber revolver? Fetus read Gross's mind, stared
at the revolver for a brief second, and metamorphosed it to a nice .44
automatic.
Gross repeated himself. "Do you have TROUBLE HEARING? I said, I WANT A
FUCKING BEER BITCH!"
The hostess ducked down behind the counter and punched an alarm button.
Gross let loose a fray of shells at various employees. He saw the hostess
scooting along behind the counter. He walked through the counter as if he were
a ghost. The hostess urinated in her pants.
Gross stood there grinning. "Oh I'm sorry, you don't got Bud? What a LAME
FUCKING JOINT THIS IS!" He pulled the trigger several times inhuman
rapidity. When the smoke cleared there was an outline of a fetus on the front
of the lady's uniform, and she was bleeding rapidly. The fetus image removed
itself from the body and looked at everyone in the restaurant. The ghostly
image desecrated everything it looked at and then spontaneously combusted,
giving off an energy so powerful it took out the entire street block.
Fetus and Gross stood among the rubble. Fetus was bending over double in
his human body laughing an insane laughter.
He blinked his left eye, then his right. The rubble vanished, and so did
they. He metamorphosed the both of them into new human identities.
* * * *
They decided to take their rental car and drive on. Newspapers everywhere
were publishing stories of the destruction. Both of the Fetal Conspirators
laughed at the headlines. "Phenomenal Powers Destroy Business Section,
Killing Hundreds." It got them in the mood for a football game.
They drove to the nearest stadium and hung around until some unfortunate
souls came about to engage in a game of football. That afternoon a large
crowd assembled in the stadium for a great game of football between the
Broncos of Denver and the Packers of Green Bay.
Fetus and Gross Genitalia watched the game with much curiosity. Why would
humans be so foolish as to engage in this stupid game? It sucked. It lacked
something. Excitement, and Fetus intended to put some into it.
He ran down to the front and found a large pregnant lady. He gave her
a manual abortion on the spot, killing her. He took the squirming fetus
and ran onto the field. The fetus looked up at Fetus Almighty and smiled!
He actually met the entity himself!
Fetus positioned himself on the twenty-yard line andw yelled "FORE!"
He raised the fetus high above His head and dropped it. He gave it a powerful
punt and sent the fetus flying.
It flew down the field and through the goal posts. It did not, however,
stop there. It sailed over the end wall. It made a U-turn over the parking lot,
dripping uteral fluids on someone's brand-new Lincoln Towncar. It flew back
into the stadium like a boomerang and landed somewhere in the crowd.
It spun about furiously, throwing off purple and red sparks, giving off a
noise that placed itself somewhere near the highest audible point in the
human ear's hearing spectrum.
It violently exploded. Fetus and Gross Genitalia once again changed
identities.
* * * *
This was getting pretty fucking fun. Fetus took on the role of a prestigious
young corporate businessman. Gross took on a similar role because he wanted to
see what really made corporate bastards tick. In fresh suits with briefcases
loaded with nothing but Bud and dope, they entered the financial "splendor"
of Wall Street.
They assumed the roles of corporate heads in a major New York firm. Both had
nice offices, inlaid with tons of little electronic gadgets and shit, voice-
activated coffee makers and the like. What a crock of shit. Damned corporate
bastards. This was getting dull and pretty monotonous, so they ate lunch in the
cafeteria and left, headed for the New York Stock Exchange.
When they arrived, the whole floor was already swarming with corporate
bastards from all reaches of the yuppie community. Fetus and Gross laughed
to themselves and set into buying stocks and shit for the hell of it. They
thought they'd let them sit around and collect, then sell them, but...NAH!
That's dull. Besides, they had all the money they wanted. It was time for
action. Fetus opened his briefcase and began peddling cocaine to the younger
drug-addicted yuppies. Pretty soon one bastard saw five fucking quarter bags
stuffed in Gross Genitalia's pocket and narced on him. The cops came and got
pretty damned rude, so Gross planted a number two polished Florsheim shoe into
the cop's genitalia (what a coincidence!) area and pushed him to the floor.
But he did not run, he stayed to play with the cop. He gave away free dope
and popped open a Bud. It took about five seconds to down it and a couple
of businessmen standing by named him the Fastest Beer Drinker on Wall Street.
The cop got up, drew his gun, and shot Gross Genitalia point-blank betweek his eyes. Gross Genitalia fell to the floor. He reopened his eyes and laughed
hysterically at the foolish mortal cop and his pupils turned crimson. He
planted his other foot into another cop's foot, and pushed him backwards
through a crowd of cheering onlookers. Fetus decided to get in on the action,
and pulled a squirming fetus out of his briefcase. It was a little flattened,
but nevertheless he unleashed it on the cops.
The fetus jumped onto the first cop's forehead and bit out a big plug,
drawing some brain fluid in the process. He leaped over and squished down into
the other cop's pants and bit off his balls. "AAAAUUUUUGGGHHHHH! SHIIIIIT!"
The cop crumpled to the floor in utter pain, shock, and fucking horror.
Gross stood back and laughed, and lit up a big doob. He smoked the weed
with elegance, and offered it to some businessmen standing near him. They
eagerly took of the weed and got higher than a fucking kite.
The chief of police arrived.
"Alright you yuppie bastards, GET ON THE FLOOR!" He drew his gun and held
it fast on Gross. Another high-ranking cop held his weapon on Fetus.
The two paid the policemen no mind. Gross fired up another joint. Fetus
picked the second cop up by the bloody mass where his balls had once been,
and brushed the fetus aside. The fetus squirmed back into the briefcase and
patiently waited. Gross tossed the chief of police a beer. The cop thought it
was a pipe bomb and promptly shot it. The beer, which Fetus had shook up as
a joke, mildly exploded and good cold quality beer sprayed the crowd.
"You bastards, I said HIT THE FUCKING FLOOR!"
Gross doubled up his fit, kneeled down, and punched a gaping hole in the
hard floor. The cops dropped their guns in amazement. Everyone ran.
Fetus commanded the doors to shut and lock. Everyone tried to get the fuck
out any way they could in utter fear. Nothing worked. They were locked in,
and many were defecating in their underpants as a sign of fear. One fellow
began running violently through the crowd, tearing his clothes and screaming,
"REPENT! YE SINNERS REPENT!"
"Shut the fuck up loser, now ain't the time for your shit!" Fetus threw a
stunning punch to the fuckhead's stomach and blew him upwards, through the
glass and into that area where you observe the Stock Exchange, whatever the
fuck that place is called up there. Anyway, that's where he landed. He was
dead. Gross chuckled an evil chuckle, deep from his three hearts.
The cops moved away. There was nothing else but to shoot the two anarchist
businessmen from hell. They fired, round after round the guns blared, smoke
filled the air.
Classic story, you know the deal. The smoked cleared, and there stood
Fetus and Gross Genitalia, laughing and discussing places where they could have
lunch.
"Well, I'm not hungry. Let's leave, humans are boring," said Gross.
"Yeah, I'm not hungry either," said Fetus, "Let's get the hell outta here.
I've got better things to do, better places to go."
They both recited Tone Loc, "Let's DO IT!"
They both raised their hands and the building began to shake, and started to
crumbled before everyone's eyes. All of Wall Street could be seen sinking into
the Earth.
And at the most unexpected moment, New York City exploded in a nuclear
blast of terrorism. The entire city was neutralized by an explosion of
awesome power, conjured up by the Two Fetal Ones themselves.
* * * *
Fetus and Gross Genitalia returned to their headquarters at Cunt-Juice
Womb. They picked up Fetal Juice and Bloody Afterbirth and headed off to
spend the rest of their vacation somewhere more exciting.
They spent three glorious days on the surface of the sun. You can guess
the rest.
* * * *
(c)April 1990, Gross Genitalia.
The Followers of Fetus Are:
Bloody Fucking Afterbirth
Gross Genitalia
Fetal Juice
