SATAN BURGER
A novel of nightmarish absurdities
by Carlton Mellick III
To some people, a hamburger is more important than a soul…
Satan was a rebel too. The bible teaches you to hate rebels.
Dedicated to Food Fortunata, a genius in his own retarded little way.
“I want God to see me.”
FROM THE AUTHOR
I wrote this book (basically) when I was 20 years old and on the verge of self-murder. Not sure if my verge was due to a fascination with an unknown afterlife or due to utter boredom. Most likely the latter. The world becomes clearer and clearer the older we become, much less mysterious/exciting and all of its appeal we experienced during childhood turns logical, and logic is a dirty and boring word. This story is from the viewpoint of the rebel, who I am still deeply in love with, who refuses to accept the beliefs (the logic ) that have been issued to him like a uniform: I refuse to be a slave to money, I refuse to accept clarification of the afterlife, or the opinions others might believe to be fact, I refuse to learn foreign languages, I refuse to make up my mind, I refuse to remember all that I’ve learned, I refuse that one plus one always equals two, I refuse to be good, because we are not sure about the definition of good just yet, and I refuse to become blind, lose my hearing, misplace my legs…
ACT ONE
Hero Accepting his Journey
Scene 1
Acid Ocean Eyes
The world is still new.
It is still developing/mutating like it is sludgeling through its puberty moments, within the tricky awkward stages of physical and emotional development, just finding hair where it did not have hair before. It seems old to us, but it only seems because our lives are so short. Not to mention that time goes faster for planets than it does for us humans. Just how time goes faster for humans compared to small sandwich bugs, which need to live at a slow pace in order to get a good view of the world before their scheduled expire, since the life span of a sandwich bug is only 2.51 days.
To the rest of the universe, Earth is just an adolescent boy, whine-crying around the legs of the aged worlds in the universe. His older brothers and sister — Jupiter and Venus as example — are also considered immature, but compared to Earth they are the top of sophistication, and Child Earth looks up-up to them all day long. Since the elder worlds prefer not to probe into the matters of brat-hooligan planets, the universe doesn’t recognize our solar system on a regular basis.
And our human race has been around for such a brief amount of time that the universe hasn’t had the chance to detect us yet. One blink is all it needs to miss our dance through actuality.
In contrast, there are many other worlds inside and outside our galaxy that are considerably older than ours. They are like hundred-or-so-year-old humans, crippled and drooling all over their selves — drool being the ocean water spilling onto the coast, which is a tidal wave, sometimes called a tsunami — and because of their senility they forget all about the laws of nature and accidentally kill their parasites, which we call living beings. Forgetting to spin on its axle is the most common mistake of a senile planet, which splits the world into endless day and endless night, both of which are life-ending positions.
Another way a world kills its parasites is journeying too close to the sun, from sleep-strolling or mindless-wandering. This gives the world a nice brown suntan — or sunburn, depending on how long it bathes — and in less than a week its crab-red skin flakes and peels away; along with its burnt animals, vegetation, and most of its water supply — revealing a fresh surface to build on.
Earth won’t grow senile enough to do this, at least not in our generation, and not in a thousand to come. It will most likely die long before it goes old, when the sun grows and grows up into a red giant, swallowing the Earth into its fire stomach. Unless Earth figures a way to detach itself from its orbit and find another system to live in, which in turn will destroy living kind anyway.
So God (who called Earth the spoiled brat of his nine planets) gave him the dinosaurs. Dinosaurs were Earth’s first toys, fun and BIG and cute for infant games, but they got boring rather quickly, just as stuffed animals get boring to aging human children. They were fun in a physical sense, but they were lacking imagination and the ability to form a society, so Earth wiped them out.
Then God gave Earth a being which was capable of forming a society — which was mankind.
Child Earth putter-played with us, watching us build up civilization and grow and flourish, then every once in awhile he’d wreck us with earthquakes and hurricanes. Though cruel to the human society, Earth found destruction quite amusing. It was much more fun than watching dinosaurs eat each other.
Now the human race isn’t enough. There’s only so much entertainment you can get out of a single brand of toy before it gets boring.
Recently, Earth approached the idea of trade. He wanted to swap his toys with the ones owned by his friend worlds. This idea came to him by watching human children in little schoolyards, who had action figures quite like the ones Earth has. The only difference between human beings and action figures is that action figures come with rocket packs and laser guns.
God was the being that made it possible for Earth to swap action figures. He set up a door called a walm, which gives our Earth access to beings from other worlds, times, and dimensions. Now Earth can pluck any creature from any place in the universe and put them into his personal collection, and he’s been doing it all decade.
So God is keeping Child Earth clear from boredom. But as children always are, boredom only stays away for a little piece of a while.
The walm is located in Rippington, which is now the most populated city in the world. About five years ago, it wasn’t that large at all and was being recognized only as the capital of New Canada. The walm changed all that.
A young man named Leaf was born in this town, before the walm was born. He came into place the same year they re-elected Pat Paulsen for his second term as president of the United States of America, in 1976.
Over-populating Rippington created a difficult lifestyle for the Rippingtonians. A sick-hard struggle. It also made life a jumble-confusing subsistence, with the majority of the population consisting of foreign action figures, who rarely learn to speak the native language, Canadian.
Once the rest of the citizens of the world found out about the walm causing an overpopulation problem, they just stared at their walls and shrugged.
Nobody cared then, nobody cares now, not even the New Canadians care and they are the victims of this situation.
Nobody cares in the least bit about anything anymore. It’s like there is a drug in the air that makes everything seem unimportant, no matter how important anything is. A mother will witness her own child convulse and die, right in her chubby lap, and all she will do is stare at her wall and shrug.
Then she’ll say, “Guess I’ll have to make another one.”
Actually, I am exaggerating. Some people still care, especially the younger people. But most of the population is lame/untrue to their human emotions and nobody has found out exactly why.