Previously:
http://4-ch.net/dqn/kareha.pl/1340196069
http://4-ch.net/dqn/kareha.pl/1333279425
http://4-ch.net/dqn/kareha.pl/1326391378
http://4-ch.net/dqn/kareha.pl/1315193920
http://4-ch.net/dqn/kareha.pl/1292544745
http://4-ch.net/dqn/kareha.pl/1250275007
http://4-ch.net/dqn/kareha.pl/1213916710
By my calculations, we will reach the 7000th of September somewhere around >>700 of this thread. How appropriate.
At three in the morning, the sirens sounded and the faithful fell from their bunks in the frigid cold for the first of the day’s many prayers. Predictably, the priests walked through two minutes into the proceedings to ferret out anyone lacking sufficient faith. Their attention could be drawn by anyone attempting to hide from the cold, imperfectly mumbling their prayers, or not wailing loud enough when it was time. Any small failing in the all-important act of prayer was sure to bring misfortune when dealing with Espeon, the Son of God, Praise be Unto Him.
Three minutes in and the priests had left satisfied, the door locked behind them, and at five minutes all but the most faithful had climbed back into their beds. The lights were switched off, and praise was replaced by wet coughs, snoring, and annoyingly for Espeonito, the sound of masturbation from the bunk below his and urgings, despite the rules against it, to talk from the bunk above. Espeonoshi was up there, fresh from monastic orders. It had been a kind and merciful attempt to steer him back to perfect faith that cost him five kilograms in body weight to the monk’s diet, a tooth to rot, and two toes to frostbite. Despite all the mercy shown him, he seemed ready to return with this outrageous behavior: talking to the fellow faithful outside the allotted time...
Espeonoshi half-whispered and half-shouted: "Espeonito! Come on! Talk to me!"
“Not now!" Espeonito whispered back, and muttered beneath his breath, “Praisebeunhim." He hadn’t slept well after midnight prayers and now saw the wisdom in restricting idle talk to only fifteen minutes following dinner...
The door lock slid open and everyone audibly froze. Coughs were stifled, blankets tightened around necks, and the masturbation stopped, the offender loudly flopping onto his side. Everyone in the bunks surrounding him cringed; it was obvious that he had been caught and it took no time for the priests to find him. He was carried away screaming for reform in the monastery, to the great relief of his neighbors.
Espeonito hoped this reminder would quiet Espeonoshi, but it had no such effect.
“I’m telling you, I saw him up close, Espeonito! I could have reached out and touched him!"
“You’d be struck dead", Espeonito yawned the reminder, and again added “Praisebeuntohim" for good measure. He tried to sleep but it was not easy given all Espeonoshi had said of late even though it was most certainly a lie placed in his mind by the devils that Espeon, the Son of God ate alive...
When he had been taken away, Espeonoshi said he had first found his place in the monastic order in the rather comfortable job of cleaning a palace in the Great City. He spoke of wonders there such as pieces of glass that displayed scenes from around the world, but mostly men running and kicking a ball. He spent his time between the hourly prayers required of the monastic orders scrubbing floors and polishing furniture, never laying eyes on the master of this house until one day, by accident, he opened a door he had been told to never open and there he saw, he claimed anyway, Espeon, the Son of God. He sat before a panel of glass like the others in the house, though this one he made move by his will and a small device attached to it by a wire. According to Espeonoshi, this glass panel had on it the image of a nude goddess from a perfect world where eyes were large, noses and mouths small, and where no one grows old. While it would seem fitting that Espeon, the Son of God, Praise be Unto Him would wish to peer into the world from which he came from time to time, Espeonoshi suggested that the Son of God more than pined for it: he was masturbating to this image of godly perfection.
Espeonito tried very hard not to believe it but Espeonoshi had never lied before. Why wouldn’t Espeon just summon this goddess to him? Or he could have any woman in all the land, for they were his property after all. Then again, no mortal was the equal of a young goddess. Perhaps no goddess was willing to visit such an impure land lacking in faith. Espeonito’s faith was shaken by mere rumor, it seemed. Asking a priest for clarification would only send him to the very same harsh orders where Espeonoshi had eaten nothing but boiled buckwheat for seven months and spent his days cutting firewood in deep snow. Espeonito was left to stew in his thoughts, trying his best to think of better times when his faith had been unshaken...
Once Espeonoshi and he had left their work detail twenty minutes early to get a head start on all the others on the Great Day and managed to get a spot so close to the Holy Pillar that they might actually lay eyes on Him should he appear. They saw Espeon, the Son of God, as he truly must be: clean-shaven, wearing brilliant robes, voice booming over the masses gathered below Him. In acts of ultimate sacrifice, two monks near them slashed their throats the second He appeared before them and lay dying at their feet though the glory before Espeonoshi and he was so distracting they did not notice.
Espeon himself so rarely led the proceedings that they had not seen him since they were children and then only as a very distant speck, smaller than an ant they were so far away. They didn’t know what to expect and couldn’t think above the screaming of the masses. Normally it would be the issuing of extended dour prayers by priests followed by a reading of the annual production report, but this was going to prove much different. Espeon asked all to join along with him in a “song", a word that caused much confusion among the masses and they all looked to one another for an answer.
“Sing with me!" Espeon demanded, and he made a strange noise boom along with his voice.
That wonderful prayer, that wonderful work of art, as beautiful as any marble sculpture of Espeon, the Son of God, was still with him to this day and it warmed him just to think of it. He bit his tongue so as not to accidentally utter a single note of it out loud: “He was a sk8r boi, she said see ya later boi. He wasn't good enough for her. She had a pretty face but her head was up in space..."
(THE END)
Some notes: I had a dream that a business partner and I bought a building in San Francisco that was formerly a cult compound. The real estate agent explained that the cult members were not allowed to talk to one another. Evidently the cult had such a weak basis that discussing it even once would make the whole thing fall apart... and it did.
I was also going to try to explain that Espeon was jackin' it to Ichigo Mashimaro porn, but it was way too much work and that shit is boring even in summary...
Also, post count +1!