The Holidays are upon us, and I think it’s time to decorate. I’ve been collecting ornaments in my basement. They’re loud, and they scream more than my neighbors might like; that’s the reason this season I made sure that my underground playground was sealed up and sound proof. Some of them I’ve already started assembling. Removing original appendages, and sewing on new ones, or fixing on fascinating items to decorate their pathetic bodies. Half of them I’ll leave strewn around the States, a little “Happy Holidays” to the pigs in blue.
The rest are special, my young ones. I intend to do something only attempted before by Jabba the Hutt. I’ll be casting these young angels in gold and silver; some of them will be dipped in live, their death mask forever cast in precious metals. Some I want to appear peaceful; I’ll put them to sleep, or stop their hearts and pose them before I cast them into molten eternity. Those I’ll donate to churches and hospitals, a Holiday miracle to honor the sweet lost offspring. My most beautiful little works of art; unbeknownst to the Clergy that inside those shining statues were the souls of sweet innocence.
I’m a sadistic bitch, but an artist as well. Are you willing to help me collect and assemble more Holiday decorations? I think the Catholic Church down the Boulevard could use a set of new silver Seraphim statues.
Indigo
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