Hello Devilfish! Read Free

fab stingray wiener—more about that traitor later. The road to pleasure is paved with squids. Only love can break your balls.
    Should I invade downtown Tokyo again? Why not—it’s where a beast rocks, a seething grid packed with human biomass. Though I gotta watch you suckers—you probably built new toxic kaiju splatter bombs I’ll get croaked with on my next rampage—Hello War Crimes! But suddenly Tokyo’s not enough—I need a bajillion trenches stacked with pony femurs and kitten skulls and rattlesnakes humping Barbie dolls—your basic suburban dream. Too bad everything forbidden’s already been done—ask any Shriner. Still—I’ll try to be anarchic, I promise—I’ll roll penguins in cocoa and toss them to polar bears. I’ll marry a snake and hide all the mice. Hah—the forbidden? I can’t find it—someone hid it in their crusty slacks. Besides, evil is so corny—ever seen a Nazi hat? It will become dearer than former when I explain how I’m a—yep, you guessed it—Hello Devilfish! Let’s say that a lot. Now the Devilfish what’s me will obey all the customs. He’s hoping pity and tears will scrub away his tawdry sins. Which are what—some pulped brats? A few charred bums? A lifetime of TV and cheap scotch? You need a fish to believe with.
    So here I am, toppling skyscrapers with my stupendous tail while bodies tumble out like yellow salt—did I mention I’m a ginormous stingray? With nuke-proof iridium skin and I can spit green napalm jets—go monster chaos! Hah—watch me thrash through Tokyo, slicing charred arcs through factory prefectures, toasting strolling mommies into fried clumps—join our baby despair society! All you need is burnt milk. So why do I wreck stuff? Maybe I just dig your screams, that dumbstruck glance in death’s grimy mirror. Except lately I’m more bored than your dad—burn this, smash that—I’m telling you, it gets like a job. A slave to fun’s still a slave.
    If it’s later than former you’re listening again, one hand on a stale beer and the other down your pants—Hello Erotica! I am a thing for much fun. And if you’re not me you’re zip when I tell you—kapow! How I churned streets into a creosote stew burning brighter than firefly cum. Whee! Senseless havoc totally rules —that clogged screech as scorched toddlers burst into gummi poop—you gotta love what you do. And I love torching you humps—I’m God’s chainsaw, her wired golem, the smile on her power-drunk face—let’s blaspheme! You need to doom a world with more doom. And take to limit while I chew babies or slash my razory tail through noodle kiosks. What’s with all the fucking noodle kiosks?
    Anyway, then I head for the shipyards—lots of sparkly dioxin fun there—when I spot, alright—a refinery! Till I sweat fire just cruising at that gas-cracking plant, mmmm, those tangerine petrol pods leaking sweet methane—this joint’s gonna blow up good . I was in pure form—my cobalt prick arcing through cloud pussy, my tail snaking in spermy jet streams till it lands ka-thwhack across that steel nipple atop a reservoir tank. Let’s drool like it’s Xmas! Especially when I tail-spank that spilled naphtha into a fuel lotus, a hot blossom lit with orange dread. While nearby worker humans squeal their usual Eeek, help me Buddha prayers till fire grills their minds away, yay! “How can we appease you?” one guy wails as his chest melts off. “Appease? Sorry,” I smear him into dank paste, “don’t know that word yet.”
    It’s curious I even understand him—me talk Manglish, him Japanese. Hello Plot Flaw! With extra bored sauce. Hey, I did study some Asian lingo—a few Rosetta Stone phrase books floated past my coral lair. Still, my Japanese is pretty iffy—mostly