prologue  -  candlemass

thing-fish:

once  upon  a  time,  musta  been  'round  october,  few  years  back,  in  one  o'  dose  top  secret  labmo-tories  de  gubbnint  keep  stashed  away  underneath  virginia,  an  evil  prince,  occasion'ly  employed  as  a  part-time  theatrical  criticizer  set  to  woikin'  on  a  plot  fo  de  systematic  genocidical  remove'lance  of  all  unwanted  highly-rhythmic  individj'lls  an'  sissy-boys!

de  cocksucker  done  whiffed  up  a  secret  potium  .  .  .  an'  right  'long  wid  it,  de  atrocious  idea  dat  what  he  been  boilin'  up  down  deahhhh  jes'  mights  be  de  final  solutium  to  de  white  main's  'boidennn',  ef  yo'  acquire  my  drift  .  .  .

well,  he  were  sure  he  had  a  good  thing  goin'  .  .  .  but,  dere  was  always  de  possobility  dat  somethin'  might  fuck  up,  so,  he  planned  to  have  a  little  test,  jes'  to  check  it  all  out  befo'  he  dump't  it  in  de  wattuh  supply.

sho'tly  denafter,  wit  high-level  gubnint  corobberatium,  he  arranged  to  have  a  good-will  visit  to  san  quentim,  'long  wit  some  country-westin  mu-zishnin's,  'n  sprinkle  a  little  bit  of  it  on  some  of  de  boys  in  deahhh  (since  dey  done  used  a  few  of  'em  befo'  when  dey  was  messin'  wit  de  zyph'liss).

so,  heah  dey  come  wit  de  potium,  dump'nit  all  in  de  mash  potatoes!

den  dey  wen'  up  to  de  warden's  office  fo'  some  hot  toddy,  watchin'  a  little  football  while  dey's  waitin'  to  see  what  gone  happen!

fact  o'  de  matter  were:  nothin'  happened,  so  dey  went  off'n  dribbled  it  in  a  special  shipnint  of  galoot  co-log-nuh  dat  went  out  'bouts  november!

next  thing  y'know,  fagnits  be  droppin'  off  like  flies  .  .  .  'long  wit  a  large  number  of  severely-tanned  individj'lls,  pre-zumnably  of  hay'chen  extrakment!

but  not  de  boys  in  de  rest  home!  oh  no!  mixin'  de  shit  wit  de  mash  potatoes  done  smoothed  it  out  a  little,  so's  it  wouldn't  kill  yo'  ass,  but,  it  sho'  would  make  y'ugly!  'n  ef  y'was  already  ugly,  it'd  make  yo  ass  mean  'n  ugly  .  .  .  'n  ef  you  was  already  mean  'n  ugly,  it'd  turn  ya  into  a  strange,  unknown  kreetchuh,  never  befo'  seen  on  broadway!

thass  right!  it'd  turn  ya'  into  a  'mammy  nun'!  head  like  a  potato  .  .  .  lips  like  a  duck  .  .  .  big  ol'  hands,  puffin'  up!  big  ones!  science!  me-jev'l  re-lij-mus  costumery  all  over  yo'  body!  yow!  oh  yeah!  mmmm-hmmm!