-Excerpt
Oh, he was a bad man. He had been terrible since
the day he was born, before even then, perhaps. He had cried constantly
as a small baby, masturbated obsessively as a young teen, and become
the kind of man as an adult who only truly enjoyed himself when he
was hurting other people. Now, he wanted to know, what was so wrong
with that?
This badness, after all, had taken him to where he
was today, sitting in his car in an empty parking lot with his brain
like a dog running in a circle on a chain in the yard of his mind. Because,
these days, he was King Shit of Turd Hill, a paid propagator of evil,
a guy unabashedly enough in touch with his, well, bad self, really, that
he made a living off of it. Everyone else, he thought, could go and fuck
themselves.
He was a pornographer, and he was not ashamed. In fact,
he was terrifically proud. He told those who stood around him while he
worked that porn stars were like game pieces, and porn sets were like
chessboards, and he was like the god who moved them around. He would
add, after a pause, But in this game, somebody always gets fucked in
the ass! Then, he would laugh, and everyone else would laugh right along
with him.
His life was hilarious, actually. Put that in your
mouth, put this in your vagina, put the other thing up your butt. The
variations were endless. It was their willingness that staggered the
mind. The people in front of him were as malleable as freshly pulverized
meat. Having been punched by their mothers, screwed by their fathers,
and screamed at by their lovers, they stood limply before him and just
did whatever he said.
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