The parasite is alive, adn growing, taking from me. The Beautiful Loser offered me a pesticide, begged me to take it. Too risky.
I could not turn to the Agnostic. Again, too risky.
In the Great Revolution we were running out of time, and so I turned to Riff Raff, half mad with frustration and fear.
"Magenta, I love you. Fear not and be all."
"Behold?"
"Be all."
Riff Raff cradled me and the parasite, glad of the Advent, but longing for more.
Gangsta-Love saw the Glowing Joy of the Advent and wanted a parasite of his own, and pursued Little Miss Sunshine for one.
"Youth is fleeting, I want my piece."
But Gangsta-Love prevailed, and had his own Advent, a new parasite to put a drain on Society. Alas, the parasite was tainted and Little Miss Sunshine couldn't make it true.
The parasirte is draining me, and the sickness is taking hold.
The Zen Master fumed and preached the Tao, and offered me no sanctuary.
We had to flee.
We are fugees now.
The music pounded into the melody and bass in my head, each beat an explosion of psychedelic color-falls
The Beautiful Loser pursued, afraid and unsure of the parasite, and in need of Absolution.
I can not grant it, and so into the Tombs and Cages we ran, Riff Raff supporting me, and Gangsta-Love losing himself in the Epic Battle.
My tears ran red, and the parasite emerged, truly enveloping me in it's net.
happy fugee Love/
sad fugee Fear
The Great Stone Buddha, deep within the Tombs, turned to me and Prophesized:
"It is both Mother and Child
Friend and Foe
Tortured and Torturer.
Beware the Pesticides
And Revoloution, else it is sent Alone
And ungaurded into the world."
And as the last word fell like small pebbles from his lips to strike out against the marble Tombs, the parasite died.