Breakfast of Champions
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A step aside from the normal to bring you this well intentioned interlude. Think of this quaint little strip of casually concentric sequential stand-out as my opportunity, if you aren't about needing one, to step up and out of the deep beveled autotopographical geochromostate of the uniquely creative life path adjacent springs eternal and catch a somber, solitary survey of all that is/was/has and may if, to the power of my unkempt off-roads; hidden drive-ways, and whats more about conjugating the congenial conquests conjured at the congregations considerations. Or perhaps this is just my way of squeaking out a blast of my eccentric impulses in a controlled environment so as not to spoil the linear control pattern that we've tied to our main element. In the simplest terms I am simply stating that I have quite an unchecked habit of becoming eternally distracted and drawn into slanted side steps in my creative efforts, especially when I write, so to my best possible outcome I am pulling myself away from my main quest to delve into gratifying disconnects that might serve to keep true my aim in conquests more lofty than these, single served and suffered steadily. Okay, maybe that wasn't the simplest terms that I could have put that in, but I did warn you that I have a real problem with being carried away on my own converse, often completely losing myself in the process, or at the very least losing sight of my intended surmisation to the direct displace of my audience. Were it that I ever had an audience. And at that I turn you over to our main event. Breakfast of Champions, a short story told in pictures that has little or nothing to do with the long winded address to which you have just suffered.
Brennan Neil MacDonald
Breakfast of Champions
Written and illustrated
by
Brennan Neil MacDonald
Breakfast of Champions
The three young men, cool little kids at heart, sit down at the dinner table to conjour a demon from a purple mask they found earlier that day while antiquing in China Town.
The demon is lured out of his lair deep in Hell's pit by the promise of a lovely spaghetti dinner at the fine company of a group of overly congenial school children. All very serious and not at all enjoyable.
But before long the stoic resolve of our wicked trio is tested and met by the demon's wicked, silly mental illness giggles. He turns his power on his captors and soon the silly mental illness giggles spread through all three of them, leaving them each quite insane and in no way upset about it.
Soon thereafter the Demon uses the temporarily oblivious state of the three young men to shift power and sit them down at the table in his place to take on the demands end expectations of the conjouring wish.
Of course the demon had not considered that three mental patients with no doctor who couldn't even control their fits of wicked silly giggles long enough to help him kill and cook the children for his famous 'Pasta De leon', which translates as Pasta of the Lion,but more accurately describes a dish named after the famous Ponce De Leon, who allegedly discovered the fountain of youth. The expectation being that if you killed and cooked no less than 6 random children into the main course that when eaten it would afford the diner eternal youth... or something.
Of course the idea of eating the noodle spun remains of six dead kids covered in a can of Ragu Old World Style after being mushed into a carb-heavy paste and pushed through a noodle maker like sanguinated play-doh for some reason sobered up the three young men and broke the hold that the demon had on them up to that point.
Unfortunately the demon quickly amended his evil plan and promptly devoured all of the pasta made for dinner. Enough spah-kiddy to feed all four of them with left overs. And of course this could only mean that the magical effects of the dish were transformed to not only grant the demon eternal youth, something he did not really need, but also gave him the unique physical characteristic of emitting an incredibly strong gravitational force that fixed itself to one very unique object. A near earth orbiting meteor named Kronos-714 that now shared an identical physical makeup as the demon, and an equal force of attraction.
This meant, in short, that the demon was now an exact match for the comet in every way. The ying to its yang. And because of this the comet was now on a direct course with the planet earth and everything on it in order to meet its fated twin and bond with him so that together they might be whole.
Which is all very well and good for the comet and the demon, each one finding its significant soulmate so that they might experience the contented bliss of completion and spend the remainder of eternity locked into one another's mirrored embrace, not a care or concern between them. Very beautiful and incredibly rare for a couple such as a rouge comet and a child killing demon. But what does that mean for the rest of the planet?
Doom. It means the unavoidable doom and destruction of all living things that exist on this planet with the exception of some very small subterranean creatures like moles, worms, and a variety of bugs... maybe a lizard I don't really know. I know that the fish are all going to be tossed off the surface along with all of the water in the ocean from the impact, sloshing out the entire sodium rich aquaverse in one fell swoop like someone throwing a glass of beer in your face at a bar because you couldn't hear them when they were saying that they knew who you were because you just broke up with their roommate and broke her heart by being a lying, cheating, douche-bag so naturally you took what you did make out, that they knew you, and took it as a sign to lean in an engage more directly, and also make it that much more obvious how drunk you were because now your face was 3 inches from hers and your breath stunk and you were half way between slurring pick up lines and trying to kiss her when she reacted with... or like tossing out the baby with the bathwater. Like Punch and Judy. You all know Punch and Judy right? Just forget it.
Anyway, while I was distracted with my less than memorable jaunt down recollection boulevard apparently we figured out a fix for the unholy stellar union of the demon and the comet, Kronos-714. Not sure exactly what happened but... hey, money! Yay. Looks like all is well that ends well. Or maybe this is just a stock photo of some other three cat-people watching money rain down on them from what appears to be a, completely pink sky... and one with glowing red eyes that seem to be spilling out some kinetic energy? I really don't know. Let's just say that maybe things worked out, and maybe we don't really care.
The End