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“Okay, let’s start the riot,” Rodrigo said returning to the table.
First they hijacked the PA system and loaded some Jizzbuckets into the deck, replacing the soft muzak with ear-splitting noise. The music itself was enough to provoke anger and violence from the other prisoners. They immediately set about ripping the place apart.
This had to be one of the most beautiful moments that J had ever experienced. He stood in the observation tower, sipping a bourbon on the rocks and watching the entire prison being torn apart to the tunes of The Jizzbuckets’ raw EP ‘Smells Like Brain Matter.’ The tower floor was strewn with numerous dead wardens and a couple of prisoners. Germy, the hockey sticks, Mary Sinthasomphone, Never Turets; everyone faded into the deadlocked recesses of J’s mind, which was now encompassed by the wonderful scene around. A tear filled his eye.
J abseiled without much trouble down the side of the prison tower. As well as a large number of the prisoners dying that night, many escaped after the searchlights had been knocked out by rioters. For the first time in quite a while J was alone, wrapped up in a large overcoat and prison issue fedora. Only the orange light from his cigarette could be seen from a distance as he trudged over the soggy paddocks surrounding the prison. He seemed invisible as no one pursued him as he left. Perhaps he didn’t look like your average escaped con. His friends from prison had all died in the mayhem. It was very sad.
For the moment he didn’t give a flying dead kangaroo about Germy. What a sad obsession anyway. Why had it dogged him so? Did it matter? He had found out the hangout of the three demons and there was nothing stopping him from reaching them for the time being. As soon as he became omnipotent, he thought, he could crush Germy like a small animal between the thumb and forefinger of a very large person.... well a bear maybe. Dunno. There was an astroport not too far away. He could easily obtain tickets to get on a Mercury bound astropod.
But the journey itself soon proved itself to be a different matter altogether.
J sat in his alcoholic slumber. To board the astropod he had murdered a small Irish guy named Miles Urine in the astroport toilets. He had also shoplifted a bottle of Cyanide Breath Mint, a profoundly intoxicating liquor distilled in the cesspools of Lower Mercury. He finished the bottle seventy minutes into the journey and passed out. He was not to be awake for the turmoil that would surround him.
It was half way through the flight when the Citizens Revolutionary Army of Psychis (CRAP) attacked the astropod. CRAP were a scruffy bunch of stupid fucking lefties, opposed to the proposed merger of the cities of Psychis and A-Ville. Their plan was to hijack the astropod and hold a sit-in until the public servant responsible for the proposal resigned or at least went on long service leave.
If it wasn’t for an internal dispute within CRAP, this plan may have succeeded. However, an argument within the group over who should have the last organic banana led to their CRAP vessel crashing into the astropod.
“Please be calm. The Intergalactic Rescue Unit has been dispatched and should arrive very soon,” the calm computer generated female voice announced over and over. This, however, did not stop the panic. People were confessing sins, praying to God, a god, any god for absolution. Strangers hugged while others fucked sensing it to their final moments. One Japanese man committed Hara-Kiri on the spot rather than die in space.
A Catholic bishop stood up and started screaming: “We’re going to die. We’re going to die. This is just fucked. I’ve wasted all my time in a fucking church. God, you are a total fucking cunt!”
All the while, J sat in his chair, drunk and oblivious. Suddenly the hull integrity gave way. The astropod fell to pieces everybody began drifting in space.
Inflict Kafe Gavani On The World
  
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