This is a story about miracles of nature. Our focus is usually on the grace and beauty of how the people we love come into being. This work illustrates the tracking of a spectacular piece of shit to the intricacies involved in their likely arrival.
It’s mischief night. The eve of Halloween. A day well known for pranksters and their search for opportunities. Perhaps the most popular gag throughout time is Trojan Horsing a pile of poop in a flammable container that is ignited on a doorstep before one beckons the residents and runs away.
The call is answered only to find a small and easy-to-extinguish fire. Unaware of the contents, the joker’s target moves with purpose to stomp out the fire and finds themselves wearing freshly coated dookie-shoes.
Preparation for this play is in motion when a mother intertwined by fate makes a stealthy attempt to discard the shame she carries by performing her own abortion over the communal back-alley shit bucket. It is suggested that methamphetamine has played its part.
Thus, Monte Hansen is brought into the world and set into the path of pranksters, who are unable to distinguish him from the other pieces of shit sharing the bucket they collect their samples from. The prank is then played on a holy house.
When the chaplain opens the door to see a fire, he moves to stomp out the flames. This provides the chest compression associated with CPR, and combined with the fiery bag helping to cauterize the hanger wound in his heart, Monte is brought back to life. The chaplain is more eager to disavow the surviving Monte fetus than the shit coating his shoes.
That these separate and indifferently fated acts have merged are not as spectacular as the fact that somebody actually decided to once fuck his mother.
And we end.