interdimensional waxin (III) WARNING: ABSURDIST HYPERVIOLENCE

 

the triple threat-wax standard, the
first of many trilogies
identical wax triplets, of
a radically triangular school of thought
trained by one..

professor shucks-mandibles
sitting in his professor tower, at the very top
and it’s lonely at the top so shucks-
mandibles’z lookin for assistants
assistants to beat and berate in the morning
curse in the evening, shucks-mandibles’ll be professin’
incorrectly but they believed him all along n’
they’re misinformed, every day
assistants to help shucks-mandibles down the stairs to bed
elderly man professor shucks-mandibles

the assistant auditions shucks-mandibles..
“NEXT!” says the mandibles
a quick challenger approaches
it’s the football young man!
so good at football that he
does it on the street around the world
and parkour, too! parkour-football round
the world fusion – professor shucks-mandibles!
..detests the beautiful game, professor
argues game not so beautiful, but
“yo momma sure is”, argues the mandibles.
elderly charming the old man McShucks O’
deLaMandibles the professor, with the
burn of the century
“NEXT” insists mandibles!
ok who’s up next that’s right it’s
me! maths acolyte! yes, i am learning maths
i love maths so much! i want to learn more about it ūüôā
maths is my thing but i’m not very good at it
but i’m expressing myself through numbers,¬†and i
like the look of some of those graphs
but i’m a pie chart maths legend at heart
stop showing me your graphs old man
i do not need this job, “NEXT”
no, you “NEXT!”!!!
a challenger approaches!
doglike, slobbering, saying
“i love you master”
“i trust you”
“let me help you”
“feed me”
“what is that”
“let me help”
“let me eat that”
the dog that talks but only talks dog
“i wanna fuck you!” stop humping my leg!
the dog can stay, but i still need an assistant
“NEXT” ant super queen! the size of my head
throbbing with ants to be
throbbing with bigger super queens
“an ant army at my disposal..”
mandibles’z a’squirmin
biting hot ant-mandibles
shucks, my shins! my feet!
super soldier ants, born grown
attacking from
super mega ultra queens born and
throbbing with more babies!
worker ants working in symphony, en masse
making impenetrable, ever expanding and
intricate nests, and mandibles drag the professor
to his most cherished relic
of ancient times, the electric guillotine
n chewed-up shucks is in flight now
little fight left in him, while
super flying ants airlift shucks-mandibles
and place him in the guillotine position
and strap him in with their little ant fingers
and then they pull the massive lever
body convulsing, straps instantly broken
horizontal now, he’s in rigid squirm!
stern, violent shivering, deep into
the horizontal rigid squirm zone
professor o’mandibles..
shucks now it’s curtain call, blade in
descent, descending on a steaming head in spasm
ants said they heard a muffled scream
but i swear i didn’t hear nothin
cute ant ears heard mandibles scream
as that gleaming blade
barely broke its stride
and the professors head bounces upwards slightly
still convulsing and gaining momentum
spinning uncontrollably on a chaos axis
it crashes into the head basket
still furiously shaking it flies back out, n’ bounces
off some walls and maybe the ceiling, n’
a couple of lights and kills a few ants..
watch as they do away with his cheeks
cheeks are super ant babybel
to be consumed from the inside if possible
but any side will do
and these super giga ants is feeling mighty indulgent today.
and see his headless body still twitching on the floor
steaming and rhythmically gushing
ant fodder shucks mandibles
the legend Von mandibles
professor man shuckstables
who’s dog served as talking dog
of the ants, revered and decorated
hero of the ants wars
it was he who brought the technology to the ants
and eventual peace to the 100 year ant corporations war
the dog that talked but only talked dog

triplets on thin wax, warped and denting
triplets sinking, embracing and bathing
soaking and shrivelling and steaming and cleaning
clean as three whistles in perfect harmony

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TOTALLY FUCKING TRASH mini WAX-STRAVAGANZA 2.5 (WANNA B DUMB)

hulk slogan.gif
what are you, thirsty?
i’ve got so many drinks for you
if you could just follow me round here, yeah round the corner
to my back of my van let me see you round the corner
give me a second..
ok. yeah, stand there
ok look at my drinks! holy shit!!!
i’ve got so many, for you
sugar content? i’ve got drinks so packed with sugar¬†that
your species would die instantly from but one sssip
all the way down to drinks with 0 sugar! i know!
i’ve even got drinks that GET RID of some of YOUR sugar!
you got a bit too many sugar? (looks like you got WAY too much ūüėČ)
i got smoothies and milkshakes and soup-in-a-cans!
n’ all o’ them ones!
i’ve got petrol for the robots or something
i’ve got wax for the weirdos


it’s raining x’s and y’s
n if you can say it in french then
don’t say anything at all, or so
the saying goes.
living on, how you say; the ‘edge’
avoiding taxing by waxing
a wide variety of taxes and
‘tax-shortcuts’
on his edgy wax haven
cats too are taxed
entirely different currency, cats
garfield on the fiver or something
na on the back of the 20p


whacka mole never played it
that moles don’t got a problem wi’ me and
i don’t got a problem wi’ him
so get gone! i mean it!
ima run you over in my car!


 

interdimensional waxin (II)

the inter dimensional melting of wax
recognised, revered, celebrated and
hailed, now wayward
said melting is required
rewiring and updating compulsory, ’cause
the clocks went back and it’s a leap year
and we’re in the special day and there’s a big moon
or a blood moon, or a solar eclipse
and the stars have aligned, and it’s everyone’s birthday
and¬†it’s payday! and there’s a rainbow!
and it’s nearly¬†christmas and it’s new year!
it’s the ‘day of the year’, and you heard it first
and everyone’s welcome,¬†all the doors, open
a spectrum of beings, anecdotes in all languages
approaching, entering
conversation and expression
debate, exploration
nurturing, inspiring
educacting, bettering
activity and unity, encouragement too
the sharing of ideas, but
love and love lost
the floor dissappears
a spectrum of beings, falling
thick in number, some standing on
those falling below, cruel physics in play
they descend into hell on this day of days
in this day and age would you believe it
muffled screams, now rumbling beneath
shady light emerging, you conclude
that you need to see this in 3d, so you go to the shop, where
they sell the glasses
and at 5.5 space dollars a glasses
you can bet that your asses buyin these glasses
you accept the change and tell them to
“keep the change”
rumbling nigh visible, the big reveal
the earth groans and shakes, and
you slip on your new shades and
enjoy the dimensions Рeverything looking cooler
but everyone looks uglier
the wind picks up, whistling, making trees sway
and you save your hat from being taken by the turbulence
but your glasses come loose and drift away
towards the light emerging from growing cracks
light emerging from newly made cracks in the ground
newly gaping holes to hell shine biting hot light,
the ground shaking, looking like it’s melting
trees sink into the ground and the wildlife is confused, birds melting in
fight or melt mid flight situations
and you hear the alarms of cars and smashing of glass
the looting and the violence, the sobbing in fear, the
coarse, unintelligable roars of bloodlust, rage
the begging of mercy
and the crazed, maniacal laughter in madness
all arbitary injustices culminating
and for a split second you can’t hear
periphorals distorted in nigh blinding light
everything you see now warped by brightness, magnetism
and the defeaning groaning of the world and its elements
and you can just about make out your shades, fluttering into
white oblivion
and forever from now you can’t see
your shades meet an unseen and extremely loud force
sweating profusely you consider your 6 space dollars
saving the world
refracting the obscene
travelling at an absurd speed
towards you, it warms you
you fade into a fine, pink mist
rejected by hell and refracted by the dimensional shades, the
mist settles, a puddle is born
sentient it gathers
its thoughts, its form
before blind eyes it rises
a mass of swirling pink liquid, a voice
speaking ‘body language’
fluently it reads them
heroically will lead them
and solidify, one day

interdimensional waxin [I]

a thousand tiny judo chops, got
real roman real quick
waxin along to whats the name of that song
questioning myself,
second guessing myself
doubting doubts and theories alike
he drops the mic having not deserved it
it gets awkward and i bellow and weep, the
emperor cries, skyward DEVOUR HIM

it’s the emperors bidding
to eat him in one sitting

doubting myself, does he deserve it
the mic is on the floor,¬†looks ashamed it’s
tarnished, not being touched
and just like that, ‘mike’ was gone
no wife no kids, no
family no nothin’
who was that guy?
a mic, dropped
and for what? nothin’ too.
a worthless, shrivelling
quivering anecdote
a dry anecdote that made us thirsty,
hungry, dry heaving dry vomit, the mic drops
the people they cry, the emperor decides
‘mike’ dies, and these two guys?
have to eat that guy!