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By age five, she was released from her Skinner

  • By age five, she was released from her Skinner box into the wilds of Kindergarten.
  • Upon passing through the big doors for the first time, she sniffed. Hmmmm. Something had gone down recently. Maybe sex. Maybe violence. Either way, this kindergarten's garden
  • was sorely lacking in kidneys. This would upset the plutocracy who only allowed public education because they had to keep the poor alive long enough to harvest organs from. She
  • had tried soylent green before but never could get used to the flavour. It wasn't like sausages which are made from arseholes and lips. It was much more
  • slimy. It was like eating a sea cucumber basted in Vic's Vapor Rub. But the problem with Soylent Green wasn't the flavor. It is what it does to your colon.
  • And what it does to what comes out of your colon. Soylent Green then made it into the groundwater & eventually into the sky. Soon the whole earth smelled of Vics Vapor Rub.
  • Thusly, Vic felt completed and, there being nothing left to achieve, decided that it was time to die. He flew to Helsinki, snowmobiled to the far north, removed his clothing, and
  • walked into the frozen wastes. Vic remembered nothing more until he woke up wrapped in a fresh reindeer pelt. A Sami woman was brewing a potion of lingonberries and hallucinogens
  • over a spruce-root fire. She held a bowl of the slimy psychedelic brew to his lips. Dazed, Vic drank it despite the smell of hot reindeer piss. The Sami woman smiled a toothless
  • grin that made her skeletal face look even more wicked. "Welcome to Kalevala, Vic," she said in a rattling voice. He closed his eyes. The cup fell from his hand.
Started
2013-01-17 21:59:27
Finished
2014-10-02 14:14:50

2 Comments

  1. Avatar

    SlimWhitman Oct 05 2014 @ 07:25

    Was that Marjatta who gave him to drink of the lingonberries draught? And in some strange way the story reminds me of this one... http://foldingstory.com/b9cg3/
  2. Avatar

    lucielucie Oct 05 2014 @ 10:08

    I'd like to say yes it's Marjatta, but my fold owes more to the menu at Ikea than epic Finnish poetry :(

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