Grandpa took over.
— I bet your bleedingbrain that Paul is in the barn getting himself a raw beastfuck, he said.
He started off again, his shadow proceeding him, and soon he reached the dry farmwell. He bent over the tile rim and saw some emaciated toddlers clamoring for something to drink.
— Well, I’ll be damned, he chuckled, whipping out his sweaty balls and pissing on them.
He shook the last drops of piss onto me and slipped his cock back into its holster. We started on the path to the barn, which towered before us like a windowless sepulchre. Bumblebees and wasps burned and stung us, but I taught them to show a little respect. Grandpa always had a cloud of flies buzzing around him, no matter the weather or season. But now all I could see was a black whirlwind; I couldn’t even hear what he was saying. Paul had doused the area around the cowbarn’s door with Agent Orange. It was also mined, and Grandpa buzzed and whirred. So I crept through the mess of tendrils along the ancient concretewall, which blocked off all light and air.
Finally, I discovered a huge rathole behind a bunch of dandelions; it was so big I was able to fit inside. I found Grandpa, but the flies were so insane I had to drag him by the belt.
I crept forward and Grandpa came after, his nails digging into my cheeks to make sure we didn’t lose each other. The barn was as black as the soul of a knockedup woman and the gases made Grandpa want to hurl. We waded without seeing much through a lake of sewersludge; the shit was up to my crotch; finally, we found a ladder fastened to the wall and climbed up. Then we made our way along the rafters. Grandpa’s flies fell away one by one. When our eyes had finally adjusted to the dark, we realized we were in a labyrinth. Mutatedcows with whorefaces made their way through the sludge, humming hohum hits. From the stalls off to the side we could hear angry bassvoiced livestock bellowing their two cents worth in a neverending quarrel over Talmudic slaugh-territuals. Musk oxen clamored for the right to die, glowworms burned their little hearts out, and a colony of surrogatemother- smothers wrapped themselves in rosy cocoons. In one stall we could see a godfearing, Protestant ram wearing a straightjacket, and in the stall next to it a sow in a harness took the virginity of a crucified, dazzlingly white bull.
— Sri and sa-bdag, Grandpa said, we’ve entered the holy of holies … Eleusis for sure …
He gave my cheek a gruff stroke, chuckled and then crept on. Apparently, one had to be agile here.
— It’s not worth thinking and feeling down here, bolardwarf, “here time becomes space”!
On the whole, though, I didn’t feel much like Parsifal, and I certainly never pictured Grandpa as a Gurnemanz. More like a Klingsor. But something strange was definitely going on. From the outside the barn hadn’t seemed so huge, but from the inside it felt neverending. We were in a hallucination, an illusion. It felt likethe beams were taking us farther and farther into a dream, and there was always something worse waiting ahead. A smokebelching pit gaped beneath me; you could see black flames dancing far, far below. It was surrounded by a wall that kept back the sludge. Grandpa crawled up beside me. I thought he wanted to make love, so I tried to kiss him. But he gripped my neck hard and pushed me down against the beam.
— Satan’s balls, he croaked, calm down, horndog, or I’ll throw you head-over-heels into the netherworld!
Then Grandpa pressed his lips to my right eye.
— This, he whispered excitedly, this is one of the seven pits of hell found on that miserable dirtball we call Earth. It’s the abode of He Who Has No Eyes, he who calls decent folk home when they’re too old and sick to cum anymore … Down there no day is ever wasted and the fountains run a hundredproof. Animals are tame, they hop into the pot of their own free will. Everyone dines on stewedadvertisingexecutives and policechieffillets … You can babble all you want and everyone tries hard to please you. The words never give out, they never get battered and threadbare. Everything’s always orderly, no shab or drab anywhere … There’s never any reason to be despondent or depressed … you can sample hallucinogens from far away galaxies … All the bossboys are down there, from Heraclitus to Cioran, but they give you the respect you deserve … If you want, you can torture angels … You always know exactly what to do with yourself … You’re always giving tit for tat and they let everything slide … You’re always right, you’re held in high esteem … An innocent person dies for every word you speak … You get to play poker for entire galaxies … interrogate all knownlifeforms … subvert evolution … In Hell everyone is given a cock tough as leather and hard as Krupp steel … longer and rougher than the nastiest IdiAmincock! Your balls are always ready to burst and your asshole is as wet as a salivating confirmationpussy! You can have as many fuckbuddies as you want and they always pack it in as best they can! They look like Clark Gable, Errol Flynn, and Adolf Valentino rolled into one! They give head like sucklingpiglets on crack and their assholes are so narrow they screech when you ram them! When they fuck you in the ass, it’s so good you see fireworks! you hear the delicious sound of Jewbacon frying! But there’s one thing you should know, oy, and it’s this: skirtchasers end up somewhere else! they’re damned to gospelheaven and they’re forced to suck syphilic cunt for an eternity’s eternity!
Grandpa let me go, suddenly terrified.
— There’s evil in here, boy, I know it in my shrinking bowls! We have to find Paul and get away from here before some demonbastard finds us first.
Grandpa tried to move along the rafters like a sloth.
— This way is faster, easy as a thumb up the ass, he said, voice strained, before he let go and landed on his back in the viscous cowplop.
I dropped after, since the shit was only up to my knees.
— How’s it going, durchleuchtigste? I asked and licked his johnson clean.
— Whoredevil, he snorted and laboriously got his skinny legs beneath him, don’t bother faking it. It’s like intelligence. An old geezer has got a certain something that tells him when someone else is being a smartass. He shuffled off through the mess andkicked up a shrieking thalidomideboy, who he then ground to a pulp beneath his commandoboots.