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12/05/94. 21:16:52. New York City street.
I was walking down the street. It's late. Not many people out here. Not many that matter anyway. Life is a bitch for a talent agent. Day after day, shitty act after shitty act, not one of which claims to be anything less than amazing. Bullshit liars and talentless hacks. Not once have I seen anything worth my time. Now, you might be about to ask "Hey, Mr. Talent Agent, if you've never actually been the agent of anyone, how do you have a job?" Before you ask that, I will politely suggest that you go fuck yourself. Moving on.
I was walking, trying to put my day out of my head, when I hear "Hey you, in the suit. Yeeeeeah, I gotta a little... proposition for ya. Show ya a little pree-zen-tay-shun." Now, my head, tired and annoyed, would normally have told me to ignore the voices. Hell, it might just say the voices were in my head. They weren't, and I didn't. The moronic sounds came from a dark alleyway to my left. I couldn't see anyone, not at first. I walked slowly into the alley. Within an instant, my entrance in was blocked by some obese man in neon dungarees and a lavender fedora.
Another man, much older than the fatty, stepped out of the shadows. The old man was nearly nude, wearing nothing but soiled whitey tighties held up loosely by fishing hooks run into his erect nipples. "This here pree-zen-tay-shun, it's a... well, I suppose you could call it a family act. 'Sides, ain't we all jus' one big happy fam'ly?"
Before I could protest, it began. Behind me, the body of the obese man began to turn a sickly color. Slowly, his intestines wormed their way out of various orifices, though no look of discomfort or pain crossed his face. Rather, he remained stolid. Out of tiny cracks in the alley came three small insects, all of which began to feed on the spilled intestines. As they fed, the insects began to grow and morph, until they were replaced by three small children, all glowing with a bright lavender hue. The children, one male and two female, continued to feed until nothing was left but a greasy brown pile of slop. They rose, and aside from the brown scattered across their face, looked angelic. They wore nothing but little black socks tied around their ankles. The trio burst into the air, leaving began a trail of sparkles that smelled oddly of pork roast, and landed on the masochistic old man, the girls on his shoulders and the boy on his head, letting his underdeveloped genitals fall over the left eye. As they sat, a black pus began to ooze out of the eyes of the old man, and the three children began to giggle hysterically.
"Dear God," I muttered. Then, as cruel unavoidable irony or shit luck, the ground beneath my feet began to split, letting out a noxious gas that seemed nearly fatal. I jumped out of the way just quick enough to avoid being struck by the great Lord Satan himself as he rose out of the newly-formed pit. He glanced at me as though I was a dear friend, and then spun around in a perfect pirouette. He glanced into the eyes of the young glowing boy, and then turned away with a look of pure horror upon his face. Crying, he bent over, vulnerably raising his bare ass to the group. Departing from the old man's head, the boy floated down to stare into the open asshole. Lord Satan screamed in pain as the boy spread the whole to an ungodly size and began to crawl inside. Within moments his face was clearly visible chewing through the skin of Satan's back. The Lord of the Underworld let out a final whimper before falling to the ground. The boy's head burst out of the back, grinning through tissue-stained teeth.
Unimpressed by the performance, the obese man retrieved a 12 gauge shotgun from inside his gullet, and blasted the face off of the glowing boy. The two young girls, after being splattered by bits of brain matter and recently consumed intestines, began to clap and applaud giddily.
Unable to watch the act any longer, I looked down, and noticed something peculiar. I had somehow gained an erection so immense I was unable to see my own feet.
"So," the old man chuckled. "It seems as though you've enjoyed yaself."
I began to stutter, before spitting up a bit of acid. It fell directly onto my prominent erection, but had no effect. "Well... I suppose so," I finally muttered. "My prices are a bit steep, though you should have no problem affording them. Just provide me with eighteen monthly payment of $16, 292. I can take a check if that's easier."
"O course, o course," the kind old man replied. "But, uh, who should I make theese out to?"
"Make it out to... The Aristocrats! Or Carl, if that's easier."