***DISCLAIMER - If you are religious and easily offended, please do not read this short story. The intention is to be humourous, but I fully understand that the religious won't see it that way. So for pitys sake don't read it**
The Torquay Shroud*
? 1999 Martin Horton
*Torquay is a small town in Somerset, England.
Part 1
Here we find Kevin, our hero, as he lay on his stinking bed-sheets, fuming over the embarrassment that he has just had to endure.
Bastards, he thinks, total and utter utter utter utter utter bastards.
Kevin is a second year student at the University of Torquay. Kevin is a post-grad student of Religious Theosophy and, therefore, has already graduated from the University of the Conceited. Kevin is really pissed off that Sharon, the scrawny Goth girl of his most recent desire, decided to stick her pierced tongue down the throat of Gary. GARY, of all people! Gary, with his stiff collars and capitalist pretensions. Gary! Had he ever been on a protest march? No, Kevin doesn?t think so. Has he ever rallied to the cause of the discriminated, waving his lighter in solidarity with?. whoever? Nope. Never.
Kevin lies on his bed and decides to masturbate then have a curry. That usually does the trick when a latent lover has spurned him.
And with his first lustful stroke, Kevin, stinking of curry and without realising it or caring, in a few moments time will condemn the entirety of human history into his sordid pit. With his eyes rolling into his sockets as he thinks of Gary and Sharon fucking, the most gigantic earthquake ever know to man or beast erupts beneath the coast of Cornwall. Everything is destroyed. People, documents, archives, love, hope, betrayal, all are lost.
Part 2
The year is 2027. Nineteen years after the earthquake, nineteen years after that seminal moment, to the second, when Kevin thought of Gary and Sharon humping away in a boiling tar pit. Nineteen years after Kevin diuretically voided his sweat and seed into his bed-sheets, staining his bearded silhouette into these bed-sheets as the masonry crashed down around him
Part 3
The long and lonely procession of desperate survivors from the earthquake makes its way up to the temple, where the Holy Shroud of Torquay is encased in a casket of gold, and they grovel forevermore at the saintly silhouette of Kevin in the throes of his last and final lust - the candle-lit Torquay shroud. Praise be!
Kevin would have been pleased.
The Torquay Shroud*
? 1999 Martin Horton
*Torquay is a small town in Somerset, England.
Part 1
Here we find Kevin, our hero, as he lay on his stinking bed-sheets, fuming over the embarrassment that he has just had to endure.
Bastards, he thinks, total and utter utter utter utter utter bastards.
Kevin is a second year student at the University of Torquay. Kevin is a post-grad student of Religious Theosophy and, therefore, has already graduated from the University of the Conceited. Kevin is really pissed off that Sharon, the scrawny Goth girl of his most recent desire, decided to stick her pierced tongue down the throat of Gary. GARY, of all people! Gary, with his stiff collars and capitalist pretensions. Gary! Had he ever been on a protest march? No, Kevin doesn?t think so. Has he ever rallied to the cause of the discriminated, waving his lighter in solidarity with?. whoever? Nope. Never.
Kevin lies on his bed and decides to masturbate then have a curry. That usually does the trick when a latent lover has spurned him.
And with his first lustful stroke, Kevin, stinking of curry and without realising it or caring, in a few moments time will condemn the entirety of human history into his sordid pit. With his eyes rolling into his sockets as he thinks of Gary and Sharon fucking, the most gigantic earthquake ever know to man or beast erupts beneath the coast of Cornwall. Everything is destroyed. People, documents, archives, love, hope, betrayal, all are lost.
Part 2
The year is 2027. Nineteen years after the earthquake, nineteen years after that seminal moment, to the second, when Kevin thought of Gary and Sharon humping away in a boiling tar pit. Nineteen years after Kevin diuretically voided his sweat and seed into his bed-sheets, staining his bearded silhouette into these bed-sheets as the masonry crashed down around him
Part 3
The long and lonely procession of desperate survivors from the earthquake makes its way up to the temple, where the Holy Shroud of Torquay is encased in a casket of gold, and they grovel forevermore at the saintly silhouette of Kevin in the throes of his last and final lust - the candle-lit Torquay shroud. Praise be!
Kevin would have been pleased.
