Dick’s fully erect penis glistened under the glowing California sun. He stood as a specter on the balcony over looking the Los Angeles skyline. I was in awe of this naked figure as I sat at his feet. Then he began his ominous rhapsody.
“Los Angeles,” he uttered, “even the name is a deception. For in the City of Angels, one will only find spawns of Satan.”
He was statuesque; a physique rivaled only by Michelangelo’s David (with a much bigger penis of course). Sometimes he would stand there motionless, me waiting with anticipation for his next movement. It was not unlike watching Michael Jackson in the early 90s.
“All sense of brotherly love has been eroded by greed and avarice,” Dick continued. “This is a city of shattered dreams…of broken promises. Everything that can be deemed good in humanity is vacant here, in this godless land. But you, my sweet James: my most trusted disciple, you were strong enough to weather the storm. Much like that naked shrub in Palm Springs, you have carved out a lone existence in this barren soil. The seed planted here many moons ago has survived. You are the one bit of life that still clings on to this forsaken land. Oh, how the gods have touched you.”
I sat in lotus position as I pondered his words. “But there are those that wish to stamp out my flourishing seed, oh Master….ME…a defenseless shrub. Why must the burden of talent be so heavy?” I ask.
Dick grabbed me and pulled me up to my feet. He slapped me across the face and then gave me his warm embrace. His erection was poking me in the thigh. Then he put his hands to my face and looked me in the eye. “Do not be distraught, oh little one,” he said. “Haven’t you learned from my words? Only I am stronger than you. Nothing in this land can tear you down. Not earth, wind, or California wildfires. Thanks to me, you are stronger than they.”
I lowered my head in shame. “Forgive me, Master,” I said, “I am ashamed to say that for the first time, I feel…vulnerable. Afraid. Unsure of myself.”
Dick shined his calming smile and placed his hand on my shoulder. “Through me, all things are possible,” he said. “You will vanquish your enemies. They will bow down before you and tremble at the very name, James Pietermeister. Show them once again to never doubt you. And more importantly, never forgive them. Mercy is for the weak.”
I nodded in solemn agreement.
“Now,” Dick concluded, “this visitation will cost $354,000 and the keys to your Maserati to drive back to Palm Springs.”
Then I reached into my pocket.
TO BE CONTINUED…
The Internet Ruined Everything 