If the government doesn’t know about it, they should. After what happened to me. After what could happen to someone else.
A prophet wrote down the phrase, “Santa was coming.”
As the skies were becoming red and cracks in the earth widened, I realized he was dyslexic.
Dried blood was crusted over the letters. I had to pick it off with the tip of my thumb, because it wouldn’t rub away with a cloth.
“Out of the pitch black we heard something SCREAMING.”
“I tore the bag open and out flopped a fully developed, completely green, dead baby, with a very smushed head. You can imagine my shock; opening the bag, expecting to find shoes, clothes, maybe a wallet, and instead a tiny human plopping out.”
“You want to gag when you’re fifty feet away.”
The woman’s whimpering rose to muffled screaming as a gloved hand reached out with the rusted knife. Pushed back her pretty hair, damp at the roots with blood. That hand dug into her ear, slicing off a chunk, taking a golden hoop and an industrial bar along with it. She was still squealing as the hand picked up the skin and flipped it back and forth in front of the phone camera, like he was a magician showing off a card.
When the video went viral, a spokesperson for CERN assured the public that the event was merely an elaborate prank, a “work of fiction.” This would seem to put the controversy quickly to rest, if it weren’t for the fact that the man who recorded the act was soon after found dead.