Tuesday, 11 November 2008

[Turtlewind] Stigmata Made Easy


One day, I was idly pruning my nettles which reside outside my house in an attempt to kill children, when I noticed a peculiar occurrence - the palms of my hands were bleeding, and it wasn't because I’d lost a game of stabby-stabby with my mum. No, it was a stigmata, ie religious bleeding.

At first, I thought one of the little punks from the Primary School had taken pot-shots at me again, but there was no pain, and in minutes, the blood had all gone. How mysterious, I thought. There was only one explanation - I MUST be the resurrected Jesus!

After many hours of walking the streets in simple leather shoes and a top hat, I had collected twelve disciples, ranging from an old stick of chewing gum to a half-dead hobo. (He was half-dead at the TIME, at least that's what I told the police). Still, the apocalypse I had promised never came about, nor did the holy whores. So obviously I wasn't the Divine Lord. I was just some poor sod who God decided it would be fun to make him bleed.

Many people are actually affected by stigmata, and it is a mysterious phenomena even today. The wounds are generally in the hands and side - where Jesus was crucified. Actually, in real life, the nails went through his wrists, not hands. Perhaps God is having an off-day, or else delegated the stigmata-giving to a Student.

People who have such occurrences are usually deemed special, and people must love them. Like me. Many prophets throughout the centuries have bled, sometimes even through stigmatas. Sometimes God even sends a holy knife to pierce their sides and they bleed so much holy blood that they died. At least that's what the palace guards said.

It can get a bit awkward though. Once, I was entertaining important guests at a dinner party which would affect my entire career, and the moment I began to carve the beef, out poured lots of blood. I had to pretend that the beef was really, really rare. Oh, the hilarity. Then they all gobbled up my blood and went for my jugular! Damn Lawyers.

The blood pouring out of my sides is the worst though. Often I wake up to find the blood coating my bed. I get all tetchy, and my mood changes. Then I realise I'm not female, and it's a gift from God. He's so generous but I'd like Him even more if He paid my cleaning bills.

Do you want a stigmata and be the envy of all your family and friends? Well, it's simple. Just grab the nearest kitchen knife, and stab yourself one (1) time in the side, and one (1) time on each wrist. There is one drawback to this, namely that you'll definitely die. But then again, I wouldn't expect the lives of anyone who has actually bothered to read this far to be worth much anyhow.

So what do you do if you do find yourself bleeding, and it's not because of that Mafia boss whose tulips you ate? There's only one thing to do - pray boy, pray like you've never prayed before, or God'll make you bleeeeeeeeeeed

Your friend,
The Mysterious Mr Turtlewind

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