Sid was taking a dump. It was going rough. The girls were giggling and being crazy. Sid slipped on to Richard. That poor soul loved sex so much he didn’t mind that his wife had three heads. The thing is he never got beyond foreplay. The girls were listening to rock music and dancing. Sid didn’t want to leave the bathroom. The girls were being wild. He could hear them jumping on and off the couch. Something smashed. Sid clasped his head between his hands and sighed. “The reek of human blood smiles out at me,” said Lucy. “No it’s, the reek of blood is laughter to my heart,” said Jane. The bathroom was small and Sid felt claustrophobic. His knees were arching. His arse was numb. Those girls would not leave him alone. They were out there dressed in their diaphanous dresses, showing off their firm breasts and taut bottoms. “You’ve both got it wrong,” shouted Wendy, “here is the right quote: the reek of human shit is laughter that illuminates my heart.” The girls laughed loudly.
Sid had once been an actor. He had called himself a method actor. During a Greek play a member of the audience jumped on stage and pulled out a gun. The intruder finding himself amidst the chorus proclaimed his desire to keep the Eleusinian Mysteries just that mysteries. And so the intruder before the audience could get to him shot Sid through the head. Sid was killed on the spot.
In India on the river Ganges Sid bathed and washed away the sins of war. He read Rig-Veda and chanted. Sid in India killed armies and armies of flies. Afterwards he regretted the violence.
“Come out!” shouted Lucy. “Where are you Sid!” shouted Wendy. “We love you Sid!” shouted Jane. The girls were looking for Sid. They hadn’t looked under the bed yet. Sid was squeezed painfully between the bed and carpet. He was weeping softly. It wasn’t depression, it was the fatigue. Sid was exhausted. “Come out!” shouted Lucy. “Where are you Sid!” shouted Wendy. “We love you Sid!” shouted Jane.
Sid old now pate grey and white furrowed physiognomy bones scream night and day scream a moribund scream death scream tortured and beaten by time old Sid not in the not yet stuck in the past with flashes of the here and now reek of death Sid soon the bullet will enter just under the right eye and zip through his brain and exit his skull and the audience will clap and cheer and say it was Sid’s best performance. Sid’s cock is flaccid like a strap of old leather. It’s only use… pissing out of.
It was Richard with the gun. He was the bastard that pulled the trigger and sent Sid’s brain scattering all over the actors on the stage. The pieces of brain were grey.