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Artist's Comments
Oh janswell. Had fun with this one a bit. Story came after the image (which you should fullview because it has some nice textures), as usual. Enjoy!
 --- 5h p9 CS ---------------------------------------------- Helping yourself to a large dollop of cat salad, you begin to wonder: What exactly is in cat salad anyways? A voice in your head replies: "Cats." Oh. The buffet line shuffles along, feet moving in time to the warlord's latest mandolin polka opus. Ahead, a dragonfly lays her eggs in the fruit punch. The sky has been grey for months, humid enough to bring out the insects in a perpetual mating season. You look over the guard towers up at the rebel controlled forest. Mist catches in the surrounding mountains like cotton on Velcro, wisps stretching thin as they struggle away. Today the food is good - the best in weeks. In fact, too good. The guard slaps something in your hand as you leave the line: a plastic spork. Utensils have never been rationed out. You realize that this can only mean one of two things. The camp is being upgraded, or the warlord has issued a cull. Red veins of panic shoot out from the corner of your eyes – you have minutes to live! “Keep moving.” A heavy rifle butt connects with your eyebrow. “Leave the line now, or I’ll feed your left asscheek to the piggies.” Across the complex, the grand surgeon scoops green bologna out of a tin and slops it down in the mud. The hogs pick up the scent and squeal behind the rusted fence. Snouts poke through the gaps, tongues flicking out in between thick snorts. The grand surgeon licks his dirty thumb and shines his singular medal, pinned to his ear. It drips thick yellow discharge and his eyes roll back in his head. A light rain begins to fall. You run towards the clay outer wall, bare feet slipping in the mud. Thick red droplets patter onto your face as you push the last bit of cat salad into your mouth. You hit the wall with a wet slap, digging in with fingers and toes. It gives slightly under your weight, sagging while you climb up it. The clay makes wet sucking sounds. Supermarket coupons are visible sticking out of the wall – the paper pulp (combined with focused prayer) aids in the strength of the barrier. “HEY!” You slide over the top of the wall as the drums start pounding the alarm rhythmically through the humid air. You hit the soggy earth hard, and begin to tumble uncontrollably down a slope. Muffled squeals fade in the rain. A rock jabs your side and the cat salad comes up. It screams at you: “Meeooww…!” The world goes black and a haunting apparition appears. A giant cat head, eyeless and rotting hangs before you. WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH ME! Who the fuck are you!? I DIED FOR YOU - AND YOU SPIT ON MY SACRIFICE? Huh? I AM THE CAT KNOWN AS SCRUFFLES! YOU HAVE DESECRATED MY FLESH AND NOW I WILL POSSESS YOUR SOUL!! … For the next hour, the cat-spirit wills you back over the wall and makes you run rampant killing the population of the camp. You bite a good portion out of the face of a guard and take his rifle, forcing others at gunpoint to eat his fingers and left asscheek. When they can no longer swallow the sopping bloody tissue, the cat-spirit shoots them in the head. Once everything of value in the camp is rendered useless, the cat-spirit forces you to shit in the mouth of the grand surgeon and eventually turn the rifle on yourself. The moral? CAT SALAD IS VERY DANGEROUS |
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Comments
I like your painting style!
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;A;
The Action Squad ([link]) or
The Long Way Down ([link])
I've begun to do a Story plus Image kind of series... Very random and very strange, but hopefully intriguing. anyhow thanks for the comment!
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Big fish, little fish, swimming in the water
my god your writing skills are unmatched.
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Boshudolor, Boshudolor, kicks them ninjas out the door!
Sure he once, did get tricked, to give his pants to a ninja prick
in his undies, now he'se pissed
So lookout!
here comes bo-shoo-do-lor!
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