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Cult of the Dead Cow 316
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...presents... My Bug-Pal
by Nik
06/01/1996-#316
__///////\ -cDc- CULT OF THE DEAD COW -cDc- /\\\\\\\__
\\\\\\\/ Everything You Need Since 1986 \///////
___ _ _ ___ _ _ ___ _ _ ___ _ _ ___
|___heal_the_sick___raise_the_dead___cleanse_the_lepers___cast_out_demons___|
The fourteen-headed cockroach crawled out of my rectum and began demanding
rights of all sorts. It was four o'clock in the morning. A team of media
weasels smashed down the door, flipped me on to my stomach, and proceeded to
conduct an interview.
"I vant a smull bowl of chili!" the cockroach bellowed in a strange German
accent.
"We're live on location!" drooled the media weasels.
I went back to sleep.
Hours later, the cockroach's demands had been met. He had his chili,
several high-powered rifles, and a very expensive and elaborate computer
system. All this in exchange for his story, which he sold to _The National
Enquirer_.
Weeks later, _The National Enquirer_ ran the story: "14-Headed Cockroach
Lives in Rectum for Four Months!"
"Four months?!" I screamed, "You only paid rent for three, you bastard
bug!"
He was snotty. "Don't fook vit me, buddy, I bin a fooking meedia EVENT!"
I threatened the bug's life, and soon the fourteen-headed cockroach had
his lawyer on the phone. The lease was broken and the cockroach went and moved
into the armpit of a Russian chess player who lived across town.
Two years later, a phone call awoke me in the middle of the night. It was
the fourteen-headed cockroach, now reduced to twelve heads due to a bar-room
brawl. He was drunk and depressed. He threatened to kill himself if I didn't
help him. I told him to screw off. "Go ahead!" I screamed. "Kill yourself!
See if I care!
I was furious, sleepy, and glad the bug was out of my life. I was out of
control. If I'd only known what my words forced the fourteen (twelve)-headed
cockroach to do. He killed himself by leaping into the open mouth of a
sleeping woman. She chewed and swallowed, unaware. She was an innocent tool
of the cockroach. I only found out because of a letter he sent me. It
was a suicide note.
"Der Nik,
Fook you. Zee verlde is a boig plez.
I've lept intozee mout of a vomen
by de time you getz diz.
14 headed cockroach"
Tragedy comes in many forms. I'll never forget that fourteen-headed
cockroach. To everyone else, he may have just been a _National Enquirer_
event. To me he was a friend, sort of. Actually, he was more of a jerk.
Anyhow. If only it had been me who'd eaten him. Why, God, why?
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/ \ / \ / `-(' ')-' \ / \ / \
WORLDWIDE \ / `-' (U) `-' \ / WORLDWIDE
`-' .ooM `-' _
Oooo / ) __
/)(\ ( \ Copyright (c)1996 Nik and cDc communications. / (/\
\__/ ) / All rights reserved. Award-winning CULT OF THE DEAD COW \ ) \)(/
(_/ is published by cDc communications, P.O. Box 53011, oooO _
oooO Lubbock, TX, 79453, US of A. Edited by Swamp Ratte'. __ ( \
/ ) /)(\ / \ ) \
\ ( \__/ Save yourself! Go outside! Do something! \)(/ ( /
\_) "THE COW WALKS AMONGST US" Oooo
