Scarred, bruised, desperate and on the verge of cracking, the Acolyte crashed his ship on the shores of the Mouldy Volcano, the home of the final monk. The pits of magma ready to explode, rivers of speedy lava and billowing toxic fumes could not prevent the Acolyte from meeting the third monk. This hell on Earth was nothing compared to what he had gone through. He came to a yurt, made from what seemed to be alligator hides and aardvark skin. He didn’t care about taking precautions this time. He was tired, hungry, thirsty and furious and he didn’t care about any of the potential dangers or challenges facing him on the volcano. He just wanted to achieve enlightenment and go home. Then, he was determined to become a chef, his life long dream, after achieving enlightenment. But now he couldn’t understand why he bothered on this stupid toe jam infested, dead skin filled journey in the first place. If he knew enlightenment was such a pain in the neck he would’ve just stayed home.
He barged down the flap leading into the yurt with the intention of being as rude as possible.
“Hi! Yes, I am the Acolyte! I’m seeking enlightenment! I need your task! Hurry up I don’t have all day! Give me! Give me! Give me!”
He finally noticed the monk. He was a middle aged man, wearing an elaborate silk gown and an eye catching turban. They were quite exquisite clothes, but the Acolyte wasn’t paying attention to his clothes. He was thoroughly checking his toes and skin, and was relieved to find no signs of impurities. The monk stayed calm in the face of the heated acolyte. He simply smiled and began unravelling his turban.
“Stop, what are you doing?!”
The monk remained silent. He pulled the last tuffs of his turban off his head to reveal an almost bald head. An almost bald head. The Acolyte knew what he had to do. A massive pimple lay at the centre of this monks head. It pulsated and wobbled. It was pink, white, yellow and blue. It gave off a putrid smell of never washed hair. It looked as it something was swimming in the liquid it contained. It was just screaming to be popped. But the Acolyte couldn’t take it any more.
“No! No more! NO MORE!”
The Acolyte smashed through the walls of the yurt. The toxic fumes straight away began to play on his senses, causing him to hallucinate. He was suddenly confronted by many monsters. There were monsters just made of feet, toe jam shooting out from between there toes. Others were simply piles of dead skin, bouncing there way towards him. He looked at his arms. Zits, boils and pimples dotted his skin.
“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! Get away! GET AWAY!”
Lost to this world of illusions, the intoxicated Acolyte sought to seek solace in the only place he felt was possible. He jumped into a pit of lava. But no shrieks or cries came from the Acolytes mouth. Instead, jeers of triumph escaped his withering lips. All the pain and distress he had experienced in his journey were slipping away. And for a few moments before his inevitable death, the Acolyte had achieved enlightenment.
He barged down the flap leading into the yurt with the intention of being as rude as possible.
“Hi! Yes, I am the Acolyte! I’m seeking enlightenment! I need your task! Hurry up I don’t have all day! Give me! Give me! Give me!”
He finally noticed the monk. He was a middle aged man, wearing an elaborate silk gown and an eye catching turban. They were quite exquisite clothes, but the Acolyte wasn’t paying attention to his clothes. He was thoroughly checking his toes and skin, and was relieved to find no signs of impurities. The monk stayed calm in the face of the heated acolyte. He simply smiled and began unravelling his turban.
“Stop, what are you doing?!”
The monk remained silent. He pulled the last tuffs of his turban off his head to reveal an almost bald head. An almost bald head. The Acolyte knew what he had to do. A massive pimple lay at the centre of this monks head. It pulsated and wobbled. It was pink, white, yellow and blue. It gave off a putrid smell of never washed hair. It looked as it something was swimming in the liquid it contained. It was just screaming to be popped. But the Acolyte couldn’t take it any more.
“No! No more! NO MORE!”
The Acolyte smashed through the walls of the yurt. The toxic fumes straight away began to play on his senses, causing him to hallucinate. He was suddenly confronted by many monsters. There were monsters just made of feet, toe jam shooting out from between there toes. Others were simply piles of dead skin, bouncing there way towards him. He looked at his arms. Zits, boils and pimples dotted his skin.
“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! Get away! GET AWAY!”
Lost to this world of illusions, the intoxicated Acolyte sought to seek solace in the only place he felt was possible. He jumped into a pit of lava. But no shrieks or cries came from the Acolytes mouth. Instead, jeers of triumph escaped his withering lips. All the pain and distress he had experienced in his journey were slipping away. And for a few moments before his inevitable death, the Acolyte had achieved enlightenment.
that photo cant be real can it?? there's a video on Youtube of a girl popping a giant pimple for 3 mins..pus and everything.
ReplyDeleteVery entertaining blog!
http://little-blog-of-calm.blogspot.com/