Newcomer: Hello BOB, welcome to Dark Age Press, a literary zine for alternative culture –
BOB: Yeah, yeah.
Newcomer: Um… So one of the great questions concerns the Sacred Tree of Eternal Haemorrhaging. Maybe you can explain a little of that?
BOB: Like what? It’s a tree, it grows up. What do you want here?
Newcomer: Well, why the temptation in the first place?
BOB: I wanted to see if those fuckers would do it! It’s disgusting how even my creation disobeys me!
Newcomer: That’s why you put the tree there? Because you feel betrayed by everyone?
BOB: No, I’m just trying to be indignant. To tell the truth, I didn’t realise the Tree would be that bad. I mean, I had the idea: Ultimate knowledge of good and evil bound into a pear…right? So I had that idea, and then, well, I didn’t think anyone would actually go for it. It’s like leaving a dollar on the hood of your car and finding it there at the end of the day. You ever hear about that? That works, you know.
Newcomer: So you didn’t expect False Rob to tempt the First Woman to eat the pear?
BOB: I try not to pay attention to what Rob does. I mean… Look, I’m just not associated with him, okay? I don’t care what he says about Homeroom. I was never his friend.
* * *
“Enter the Serpent” by Dick
Enter the Serpent
Don’t eat the fruit of this one tree
for if you do
you’ll surely be
aware of all that’s good and EVIL
enter the serpent…
Well, it goes on a bit. That was their only song, actually. The drummer had a song – “Why I like Daisies (thrashcore version)”, but Dick insisted on “Enter the Serpent” night after night. He was a little obsessed.
Before band practice, Dick would come home and fight with Candi. In her later years, Candi had become a “pseudo-lesbian”. Stick and Unable tried to steer clear of them if it was possible.
Dinner was the worst time for the two boys. They would sit and listen as the nightly argument slowly grew into a heated shouting match. The last night things were ever normal was on October 30, 3984 BC.
Dick came home and sat down to a pot roast dinner, picking idly at his mashed potatoes while Candi served up the meal for her husband and the two boys, a dead cigar hanging out of her mouth.
“What?” Dick asked, “No pears for dinner tonight?” He grinned and winked at Stick.
“Don’t start…” Candi muttered.
Dick turned to Unable, who was staring down at his plate, “I should have called you Sly the Snake, boy.” He pointed a finger at his son, then turned to Candi. “What do you think, Sweetie. Name this one Sly the Snake?”
Candi sat down and shoved a fork into her slice of pot roast, “I’m really tired, Dick. It’s been a long day.”
“Not enough room for another dick in your day?” Dick asked cheerfully.
Stick and Unable stared incredulously at each other.
ON THE WEEKENDS, Dick got together with his heavy metal buddies and pounded out some serious garage music. Want an example? Oh, baby, it’s in the original text! We have to translate it! MP3 version coming out soon!
