Chapter Forty Two. That Would Have to Hurt

That Would Have to Hurt

The guillotine blade weighed about 90 pounds and was contained in the fourteen foot high structure at the base of Derby's vase. The blade falls at a speed of 21 feet per second, so it takes only seven tenths of a second to cut through the neck of a condemned human, from the time the blade is released.

The sound of the falling blade in the track of the guillotine is one of the most frightening noises you could imagine. The heavy sharp metal blade zooms through the groove of the rails and emits a nerve shattering "ZJING" sound that is unique and dreadful and makes you want to escape the consequences of the speeding metal.

Derby had been lost in the moments before laying his neck across the platform. Our hero really wasn't there, in the one person show, as the faces of evil.  The "clay," which was manipulated, was the fragile and beautiful body of Jeninqua, but Derby was somewhere else. If you had to name the person who was pulling the strings of the actor who flopped from Hitler to Atilla it was Judishante Trontan, formerly referred to as the chief of Scontandia.

Judishante Trontan was born in 2100 BC in a small village in Sumeria, of Mesopotania. The reason, you've never heard his name before, Kind Reader, is because all the just forces of the universe have conspired to restrict the sound of his name. By introducing his name now, there is a slight chance of harmful consequences for our planet, but there is good reason to pronounce his name in this installment, which you'll be well aware of before you turn the page.

Judishante has played many roles in the evolution of our culture. He has managed to infiltrate the body of spirituality itself. You may not know, but I'm here to tell you, that the devil is not what anyone has tried to convince you of. Even the word "evil" itself has been misused because nothing can harm one figment of "being" in any form. BEING, as the ultimate, is untouchable, just as is the grand concept of God (another word horribly misunderstood) itself. God and BEING are not exactly the same thing, but this narrator is not equipped to explain it further.

Although BEING is untouchable, human suffering is exposed to, and in fact the skin of our planet, our precious mother, is very fragile and susceptible to the negative forces which manifest through various combinations of Yin and Yang. Judishante Trontan is an ugly and monstrous iteration of hot and cold, water and fire, male and female.

There are many examples, in our long written history, of Judishante's presence and influence, even though he remained nameless. Disguised as a leader, he was one of the chief architects of the Christian Crusades. He was the little birdie who spoke from one shoulder to Bonaparte. The witch trials of Salem, the hysteria of McCarthyism, the founding of the Ku Klux Klan--none of it would have happened without the despicable power of Judishante Trontan.

This was the power that held Jeninqua's body to the edge of the platform, under the "Zhing" of the speeding guillotine blade. At exactly 3/10ths of a second after the release, Umpa concentrated all of his magic into the hook of his finger. Invisible to us but carrying the equivalent of an arc flash of 10,000 volts, the wave of electrical energy reached the foot of Derby's Jeninqua at .3975 seconds.

Typically a body will convulse and sizzle when that much electrical current runs through it but an odd twist of physiology took place in that strange situation near the unlikely spiral staircase, under the lush cushioned lounge area in that fateful moment at the base of Derby's vase.

Within one half a second Jeninqua's feet were drawn within her own legs. At .6245 seconds her fingers and hands were turned inside out within her chest cavity. At .657 seconds the body seemed to be a bloody sculpture of organs and veins and what was resting on the edge of the platform was the inverted penis of Judishante Trontan!

All the black power of the monster, Judishante, was poured into the scream as the speeding metal razor sliced through the nerves and sinew and inside-out skin of the Phallus of Trontan. But it was too late for the Banshee of the night to regain his control. All the kings men and all the kings horses could not put Judishante's penis back on.

By slicing off the erectile genitalia of Judishante Trontan, the sharp blade of the guillotine effectively ended the reign of terror of one of the most destructive forces of evil the world has ever known, and now his name can do no more harm.