“Now we’re talking!” Death smiles and lowers his scythe. He staggers forward and rips another group of demons to pieces.
“Get ‘em!” Jesus roars. He is running around blessing everyone who gets near, which is really bad for the demons. The looks on their faces are actually pretty funny as their bodies are torn out their assholes.
War rides into the mess with his big stick. Somehow he manages to bat aside demons that get too close to him. He is laughing and howling with glee as he strikes left and right.
“Just like the old days, eh Death?” he screams and hits a demon so hard its head is shoved into its body and it bounces into another demon. The two stumble and then say hello to a tank shell, which splatters them all over their allies.
Demons are falling everywhere, but still they pour from the earth.
Jesus stops beside Death and leans over to catch his breath. His face is covered in green and yellow pus, but his bruise shines through, just as livid as it was when Death pulled him out of the rubble.
“You thinking what I’m thinking?” Death slashes another demon that gets too close.
“Yep. Lets blow this popsicle stand.”
Death nods.
“The car?”
“It’s in bad shape, but I think I can do something about that.”
Death whistles at a demon that is circling over them. He gestures, and the stupid thing swoops down to check him out.
“Dude. If you pick up a car, with us in it, and fly us off … in … oh,” he looks in a direction that is not currently exploding in a nuclear blast. “… that way, you can hang with us and not get blown to bits.”
“What’s the catch?” the thing asks in a voice that sounds like he is retching up a half-digested meal.
“No catch. I’m Death and this is Jesus, by the way.”
“Ohhh big guys. I guess I could do that if you keep me around and promise not to chop me into bits.”
Jesus nods. “You got it. What’s your name?”
“Sally. But I like to be called Princess Sally.”
Death burps up a mouthful of booze as he tries not to laugh out loud.
“Okay, uh, Princess Sally. We need to find the car first. I think it’s this way.” And the two stumble off with the demon flying over them.
The fourteen-foot shit demon is finally closing in on the deranged Horseman he has been following since Reno. The mind of the onetime shape-shifter and regenerator now works in slow shitty loops.
Six million shitty steps later, it feels the anticipation of wrapping its big fecal claw around Pestilence’s smug face. Chop it off and give him a shit body. Then he could be the Shit Horseman.
Revenge is all he seeks.
Revenge is all he knows.
He gets a glimpse of Pestilence rolling around on the ground with two guys that look a lot like him. He quickens his big shitty strides. A shadow falls over him. He looks up to see a giant red hoof coming down.
“Ah shit!” he grumbles before being squished to a big brown smear across the gory battlefield.
Edwina stumbles to her knees as the giant box shifts. She glances back at Chuzz, who has the toy microphone in hand and a dumb look on his face. He stares at her, and she frowns back at him.
The ray of white light carves a hole in the sand and mutilates the demons screaming out of the holes. They are sliced in half with splatters of pus and ooze flying in every damn direction. For the first time today, she smiles.
Her grin gets even wider when she gets a look at Satan’s giant cocks. She narrows her eyes at the closest one, and she decides to have a little fun. The ray of light is fizzling out a little but is still strong enough to do the job.
She runs along the edge of the giant box so she can get a good angle. For now, she keeps the ray pointed away from the giant demon, who takes a big step forward to close in on the box. He’ll be able to grab her pretty soon if she doesn’t boogie. She thinks again about just trying to slice the bastard’s head off, but this is Satan himself and she has her doubts that would do anything other than piss him off.
She reaches the end of the box just as another smaller one slaps itself into place. It says Daily Cunt and she almost laughs out loud at how ridiculous the whole situation is. Then she gets good and angry again and points the ray straight down.
She points the ray straight down, then rips it up into the air and catches Satan with his pants, literally, down. The ray fizzles out as she completes her cut.
Satan jerks his head up and screams at the sky as one of his cocks flops off and hits the ground far below. He reaches for it, but not fast enough, and the big red hunk of flesh smashes into a whole group of demons.
“PISS COCK FUCKING SUCKING MOTHER FUCKING ASS-LOVING SISTER OF DEATH FUCK!” he screams and stumbles. His hand shoots out and hits the box, knocking Edwina over the edge.
Air whistles past her as she plummets to the ground. She strikes much sooner than anticipated. The surface is not hard at all, but soft and moving. The ground shifts as the breath is driven from her body. A nasty smell assaults her nose right away, nearly overriding her pain threshold, which has just about peaked.
A cracked rib or three for sure. Head hurts, feels wet, like blood. She bit into her tongue, and part of it might have come off.
“OWWWWW!” She gurgles blood, but she is moving
“Get the fuck off me!” a voice yells.
She looks around and realizes she is flying. Giant red wings the size of boats rise on either side of her body. She rolls over, and a huge five-horned vulture head looks back at her. The face is disgusting, looks like a horse grew a beak and then was dipped in fuck you ugly.
“Arghhhh!” she screams.
“Arrghhh!” the creature screams back as it dives toward the ground.
“I’m gonna land and then skullfuck you!” it informs her.
She reaches to her waist and pulls one of the .45’s. She cocks back the hammer, pretty sure the gun is dry, not that this stupid shit will know, and puts the barrel right up against the thing’s reeking head.
“What?” she says and spits blood.
“Said I’m gonna land and let you go.” The thing tries to smile.
She nearly passes out.
A thunderous guttural scream from the staggering Lord of Darkness brings a momentary pause to the chaos on the ground. Flesh-starved zombies turn from their one-course demon meals and gawk at Satan, wincing and clutching his dick stump in his giant red hands. Blackish ooze drips from between his fingers, and the demons wrinkle their faces in disgust and pity. In the middle of a crowd of battling demons and dead folk, Pestilence has Leon pinned to the ground with his knees on the man’s shoulders. Bud has his arm wrapped around Pestilence’s throat and one hand twirled up tight in the Horseman’s long greasy hair.
All three pause and look in the direction of the inhuman screams to see Satan stomping around in agony. Satan steps on a greasy shit demon and slips and falls face first onto the fucking confusing battlefield. Hundreds of demons and walking dead are crushed under his bellowing form as he rolls back to his feet.
“Holy shit,” Pestilence gasps, struggling for breath under Bud’s choke hold, “Is that Satan?”
Leon, who is lying on the ground with his head rolled back so he can see everything that is going on even if it is half upside-down, answers Pestilence, “Yeah, and something cut one of his pricks off!”
Pestilence’s stares Leon in his orange and green eyes and asks (still half choking on Bud’s forearm), “Are you frying balls? How fucking wild is that? Ha!”
“Shut the fuck up!” Bud orders and tightens his grip. “We have serious fucking issues to deal with right fucking now, and I ain’t gonna put up with someone teasing Leon right fucking now!”
Pestilence gags and tries to speak but can’t. Leon wiggles out from under Pestilence’s slender twitching form and crawls to his battleaxe. He picks it up and hacks into the nearest hellborn creature, separating horned head from feathered body, hoping t
o strike fear into the heart of their hooded assailant. Pestilence gags behind Bud’s arm but still smiles his rotted grin at Leon. His yellow eyes sparkle, and Leon knows he could chop the head off of every demon in Hell and not scare this creature. Not a monster or an assassin, worse by far … a junkie.
Leon turns his battleaxe sideways and bitch slaps the junkie across the face with it. Bud chuckles and kicks the man once in his ribs. He readies himself for a second kick, but the hooded man is on his feet in a flash.
“Who the fuuuuck are you?” Bud demands.
The hooded man catches Leon off guard and backhands him with enough force to send him sprawling across the sand. Then he turns back to Bud, smiles his black-toothed grin, and says, “I’m mutha’ fuckin’ Pestilence, baby … and I’m ready to get HIGH!” To punctuate his last statement, he head butts Bud in the face. Bud’s knees buckle, but Pestilence grabs him by the scruff of his shirt and hauls him up.
“You know, this is my favorite Hustler tee shirt design,” Pestilence mentions offhandedly before tossing Bud like a rag doll. He lands on his back with a crunch and a crack that causes a second pause from the thinning hordes of demon and zombies still ripping each other to shreds around them. They turn and look at Bud’s twisted and broken form, but once he screams they all go back to attacking whatever is closest to them.
Leon gets back to his feet and growls at Pestilence. “Fuck you. I’m fucking sick of anything and everything that has ever been to or crawled out of Hell! Not a single goddamn thing has worked out at fucking all for us! And now you fucking show up and break Bud’s fucking back. He just fucking got rid of kidney stones, and now he’s got a broken fucking back. ASSHOLE!”
Pestilence chuckles and levels his crossbow at Leon, “It’s only getting worse for ya from here, dude; I’m eating your fried fucking brain.”
“What?”
“That fat tweeker in the sex shop, the one with the killer LSD? He told me your brain was soaked in the shit! I’m here to feast on your gray matter, fucko!” Pestilence drools down his skinny chin as he eyes his intended victim.
“Leon,” Bud gasps from the sand. “Use … *pained breathing* … the … *cough, cough* … fucking … *cough, then pained breathing* … axe … *deep cleansing breath* … you stupid bastard.” Just as Bud gasps out the last words, a giant hoof lands on either side of his prone form.
Leon looks at the gore-stained heavenly weapon in his hands. He smiles and starts whirling in great uneven circles, holding out the axe so it whistles as it slices through the air. The axe cleaves limbs and heads from nearby demons and zombies, and they push each other into its path as they scramble to get out of its way. “FUCK YOU ALL!” Leon bellows. “I GOT SOMETHING FOR YA!”
“Whoa, asshole,” Pestilence says and backs away, holding the loaded crossbow in front of him. “I said stop that shit!”
A voice booms from above, “Pestilence? Is that you? What the fuck? I just got a dick hacked off and you are down here rolling in the fucking sand?”
Pestilence takes his eyes off of Leon just long enough to look at Satan and say, “You still got two, boss,” before Leon lets go of the axe and falls to his ass. The momentum of Leon’s spin sends the axe flying end over end like a medieval buzz saw. Pestilence ducks the twirling blade and shoots Leon with another hypodermic arrow, this one right in the middle of his forehead.
The mind-melting burn of the needle’s poison rushes into his head even though he plucks it out as fast as he can. He tosses the half-empty needle to the sand and watches the axe as it flies at Satan. Satan’s eyes go huge as the blade cuts cleanly through one of his two remaining dicks. He bellows, grabs his second dick stump, and stomps away, screaming, “Are you FUCKING kidding ME? In my ass not off with my dicks! FUCK!”
A massive dick-shaped shadow covers Bud as he tries to crawl away. He digs his hands into the sand and pulls his broken body a few inches. He reaches again, but the giant red schlong smashes to the ground on top of him, sending Bud into darkness.
Pestilence points and laughs at his pained Lord before reloading the crossbow and pointing it back at Leon. “Now I’ve got to eat your brain since you threw away your killer weapon, dumbsh …” His words are interrupted when the axe boomerangs back. It whistles as it passes through. His yellow eyes twitch. His long fingers claw at the air in front of him as his torso slides off his hips with a slurping sound like old people butt fucking. Both halves of Pestilence’s corpse hit the sand, and three-foot-thick worms burst forth and hiss at Leon. They burrow into the desert, leaving Pestilence’s body paper-thin and flapping in the breeze.
Chuzz dives for the back of the ice cream truck and misses, because the last thing into which he dove was a pool, and that thing was seventy feet long. He manages to grab onto the edge of the floor. He almost loses his grip, but Goatboy sticks out a hoof and Chuzz manages to grasp it.
“Get in the truck, you stupid cunt!” the goat yells.
“I’m damn well trying. Dammit!”
Goatboy clops backwards on three legs, dragging Chuzz along with him. Chuzz gets his feet up on the bumper of the vehicle and pushes his way inside, then collapses on the floor and tries not to throw up. The truck shifts. Did he forget to set the brakes? Come to think of it, he never started the damn truck. He just pointed it at the sky and took off.
Stupid trip to Vegas. He can’t even find Leon in the mess out there. Stupid devil and his delicious floating glory hole box. If Chuzz were big enough, he’d stick his dick in there too. But he will never get the chance because he is probably going to die here after what Edwina did to the Devil.
Satan screams from down below. Well, speak of the Devil. Chuzz crawls over to the edge of the truck and peers out. Someone has cut off one of the monster’s other cocks. Satan reels back and then starts stomping the ground in a frenzy, smashing hapless demons. The massive army of demons tries to get out of the way, but many of them are smashed to red and yellow pus in the process.
“I’m gonna fuck that box and then I’m going gonna fuck the world and every one of you assholes!” Satan yells. He grabs hold of the giant metal monstrosity, pulls it nearby and then pounds into it.
Chuzz is nearly tossed out of the back of the truck. He holds onto Goatboy as the truck rocks back and forth.
“Get us out of here for fuck’s sake!” Goatboy screams.
Chuzz stares at the goat, then at the big red face a mere fifteen feet from him. Phil bounces around the cabin like he has been straight for months. He seems to have a lot of energy now, no doubt all of it directed at self-preservation.
“That’s right! You are next. No matter what you do or where you go, I am the Devil, and I will find you, Nathan P. Chuzzle. I will find you, and I will fuck you until you bleed, boy! Until you fucking bleed!”
Chuzz shakes his head at the horrendous image. He points the microphone behind his head and gives it a little push. The truck lifts a few inches and then rockets back a quarter mile, which once again almost makes Chuzz fall out the back.
“Shit!” He falls to all fours again.
“Shut the fucking door, mate!” Goatboy yells.
“Then I can’t see the box. The beautiful box. It’s a work of art. I need one. I need one bad.” Chuzz is almost in a daze as he watches Satan fuck the giant metal box. The thing moves back and forth, back and forth, like a giant pendulum designed to hypnotize Nathan Chuzzle.
He lifts the microphone and points it at the devil. If he throws the guy, maybe he will leave Chuzz alone; he will know he should fear him. He triggers the button and points it carefully. He doesn’t know if he can even move something that large.
Phil picks that moment, that very moment to stroll up to Chuzz in his very vulnerable position and punch him right in the left ass cheek. He bucks forward, his finger hits the little red button, and the truck shoots straight at the giant box. He doesn’t even have time to think about what he is about to do. He points the microphone, triggers the other button and flings the glory hole away.
The box is there one second and gone the next. It smashes into the side of the chasm and explodes on impact, breaking it into hundreds of tiny glory hole boxes that scream in unison.
Satan doesn’t take the move well. He roars at the sky again. As the ice cream truck shoots past him, Chuzz gets a look at a very pissed-off red face that is glaring down at a torso now missing no fewer than three cocks.
“You’ve unmanned me!” Satan yells.
The truck smashes into the ground, bouncing on impact and blowing out two of the wheels. The door slams shut and Chuzz ricochets off of it and onto Goatboy.
Goatboy in turn rolls into Phil. Then just for good measure, the truck rolls into something and comes to a sudden grinding halt. All three passengers smash into the door, and everything goes black.
The demon swoops to the ground so fast that Edwina drops the gun. The weapon falls away, and no amount of cursing will bring it back. The demon lands violently, and she is tossed off like a sack of potatoes.
She lands in the sand with her head staring directly up at Satan, who no longer has any dicks. Well too bad for the cockmaster. Too bad indeed.
She pulls the other .45 from her holster, levels it at the winged demon and blows his head clean off. Fuck you, crashing boy. Could have had it the easy way, but you had to be an asshole. The creature flops down in front of her and gurgles air through its neck, which is all that’s left at the top of its body.
She struggles to sit up but almost passes out when she tries to breathe deeply. Her chest feels like it has a hole in it. She can barely get in a breath, and she wonders if a rib has punctured her lung.
Sound comes back and she remembers she is in a war. Demons are running all over the damn place, screaming and howling. A figure on horseback flashes by, and for a half a second she things it is the weird creature that Marcel shot.
There is a beat-up vehicle right next to her. Looks like a luxury car crossed with a military-grade Hummer. She crawls to it, breath rattling in her chest as she pulls herself through the sand. A head rolls past her. It looks like what would happen if Medusa puked up a porcupine.
The Apocalypse and Satan's Glory Hole! (1) Page 31