"Kneel before me as I declaim that which is true," explained Tildar Zorotaster.
"How about Indian style?" asked Rick.
"Kneel! Kneel!"
Rick knelt, holding his arms out straight to keep balance.
"My ancestors spilled their fuck upon the ancient ones," began Tildar, "whose soiled vessels thrice with semen dripped, whose anus was a flaccid glove whose fingers pointed to the endless stars. Through many generations passed that cosmic gas, and on an endless journey swam that fertile seed. Today, Time itself has found its 'now'. Your asshole is the promise to which all history was but a premise."
Tildar struck a fancy pose, then continued, "Search within your own panties for the truth you always knew was there."
The semen, cool and now pure translucent liquid, dripped down Rick's kneeling leg. He closed his eyes and saw the universe spinning, spinning...
Snow, you made a comment the other day about recent short having to be little stories and goofiness is no longer rewarded (or something to that effect) and I'm starting to see why that could be a problem.