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by the Lord High Priest Bleeds
This is Bleeds. This
is also Bleeds' piece of paper your cow eyes are staring at, so treat it
with the all the respect you would give Lord Bleeds.
Nevermind. You
are touching the paper. Do
NOT treat it as you would Lord Bleeds.
It is just paper. In
fact, Bleeds should charge you for using it.
Bleeds
was recently asked, “Lord High Priest Bleeds, what is the nature of True
Evil?” This is a most
interesting question indeed, mostly because Bleeds already knows the
answer. Bleeds will even
share this answer with you, for it is an important piece of information
you can carry in the tiny space between your ears.
Before Bleeds gives you the answer, however, you should know
that Bleeds has been called 'True Evil' many times in his illustrious
life. Usually this accusation
has been leveled at Bleeds after the foolish person has given silent
communication to Bleeds without realizing it.
For example, when someone (other than the Lady Tanna, of course)
touches Bleeds, this means, 'Lord Bleeds, my arms are an abomination unto
my sight and must be blown from their sockets.'
If someone leans on Bleeds, it means, 'Lord Bleeds, I wish to spend
my life leaning on things. Please
cut my legs off with your scythe, that I may lean on rocks, and bushes,
and other small things the rest of my pathetic days.'
And if someone licks Lord Bleeds, it means 'My brain is trying to
escape through my mouth, and the only way to stop it is to cut off my
head.'
It annoys Bleeds that people forget this language of touch,
and complain when Bleeds answers their requests. People who do not understand the gods should not pray to
them.
So what is True Evil, you ask?
Bleeds first realized the nature of True Evil when he was a
young – but still perfect - Bleeds.
Bleeds had just returned from a battle in which he allowed the
monster to slash Bleeds open a few times to tease it into thinking it was
winning. Bleeds had not yet
bothered to bandage his wounds, because Bleeds was curious to see if his
blood would change colors like one of those hard candies that change if
you suck on one long enough. It
had been running for a good ten minutes and was still annoyingly crimson
when a scab-covered, stringy-haired crone who looked older than a ten-foot
tortoise approached Bleeds with a wild look in her eye.
Without a word, she walked up to Bleeds, licked the blood off his
body, said 'You're welcome', and then hobbled away.
Bleeds even heard her belch.
Bleeds must have been knocked unconscious after
the witch did this, because when he looked down at his chest, he was no
longer wounded. It was the
most disgusting experience Bleeds had ever known!
If it could be compared to anything, Bleeds would think it was
similar to being mistaken for a pair of Dwarven underpants and being worn
to the mines all day. Or
perhaps it was more like being sent to the underworld, and then sentenced
to spend eternity as a dried gibbet of mucous inside a donkey's nostril.
Or maybe it was like being a happy hole in the ground, and then
having someone build an outhouse on top of you.
Bleeds is unsure, however, because thinking of this experience
makes Bleeds feel unBleeds-like, and he would prefer not to remember it
any longer. But Bleeds is
certain of one thing:
Whatever that woman was, she was Pure Evil.
© Derek Sanderson - 2001 |
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