Ape Shit

The adventure begins free roam, innocent. Pleasant reigns supreme in a magic prism of color. A cool breeze in concert with warm, welcoming sun. The kind of place you dream about. The kind of place perfect for nightmare. And then nightmare. King Kolossal escapes cage. A sonic flurry trumpets his rampage. The beast batters landscape in contempt. Each smash syncopated to drum and punctuated in bass. His falsetto scream lost in destruction. Relegating coked-out honeys to the crest of club to throb epileptic. Here’s a towel. Wipe your face. Cool down. Have a drink, it’s on me. More furry. The beat increases. Anti matter spazzing boom after boom after boom. Motherfucker, boom. We left safe some time ago. Stop looking for it in windows. And bitch, leave me the fuck alone until I say so. Yeah you. Remember happiness? Neither do I. Sooner or later it all comes crashing down. Good luck getting loose. Oh, the joy of fresh kill. The ape is still hungry. Maybe he needs love, not bomb. Ever think about that? You will. And then you’ll laugh about it.