The Fuckno Wars TFW CH 29 Lenny Feast

Animals   by Toadies

HOME

LESS

Lenny Sustenuto was hungry.  He held his new weapon with his remaining arm as he ran.  He was out his mind you know.

As he ran to the tiny spark of light that glinted toward the other end of the tunnel, the drawstring from his tied-off arm whipped him about in the face.  He had lines of blood from this, and also bloody cheeks from his feast.

Upon his own arm.

He carried the skeletal remains in his remaining arm, grasping it by the bony hand, like a handshake from Hell.

His tracksuit pants fell down to his knees and he tripped.

He saw stars.

His mind came back to him.

He considered what he had done. 

He screamed in horror.

He was not in his right mind,

He fainted.

And then he got to his knees.

“…show us the way…”

“…give us meat…”

“…been a long time…”

“…wake him up…”

The voices whispering in  his ears were from those who had been left in limbo for quite a long time.

He pulled the track suit pants from his legs, over his tennis shoes, and he tossed them away.

He ran toward the tiny spark of light.

He held his weapon in his hand.

He would have himself more food.

He was out of his mind.

This Gate Of Hell was open for business.

Lenny ran towards the light, with voices whispering in his head for food, for meat, for carnage.  But what could a man with one arm do?

Well, you know, crazy people are quite strong.  It takes a lot of effort to put one of them down.

Lenny did not know about his chick Sherry.  He didn’t even know about himself anymore.

He reached the light at the end of the tunnel and hipped the skeletal remains of his feast all about.  He saw folks wrestling and fighting with each other, and others unconscious or dead, and a few crawling away bleeding.

Those were the ones who called to him, from his belly.  The pride of lions will attack the weakest ones.

Is it true pride, or is it simply the greed of ease?

One of them attackers finished pummeling his prey with an iron pipe and heard the roar of someone running up from behind.  He turned around in time to see a half naked white man running at him with an arm missing from one side, and holding a skeleton arm in the other hand, with blood smeared and dripping from his face.

What would you do?

Would you make a stand?

No.

Of course, you would flee, like a flea.

I would, too.

Sad thing was, he didn’t have time.

He would be the first feast for Lenny, but not the last.

I Ain’t The Same   by Alabama Shakes

Seen, the original Walkin, pulled his Jeep to the side of the street.  His stomach grumbled.  He was hungry.

Bastard wasn't the same anymore.  Sean was left on the moon, and now this fucked up Walkin was running amok.

But he was hungry.

He was weak.

He decided to walk amok instead.

God Help You.

God Help Us All.

---willies out

The Fuckno Wars TFW CH 28 The Gates Of Hell Open

Taboo.

There are societal rules we follow for various reasons, but the most basic is the rule of Taboo, and this goes down to the DNA level, baby.

Some Taboos are:

Do not become romantically involved with your sibling.  (Your offspring will likely have serious deficits.)

Do not eat excrement.  (You will get sick.)

Dead bodies are scary.  (You can get an infection, or their cause of death might be near you.)

Do not eat human flesh, living or dead.  (You will be sidelined by the rest of humanity.)

Do not eat your own flesh.  (This will open the gates of Hell.)

For a Walk-In, whatever their agenda, that is tantamount.  It releases forces about which little is known.

But we will find out here, if you care to follow along?

LENNY

OPENS

THE

GATES

OF

HELL

You Rascal You    by Hanni El Khatib

Lenny looked down the tunnel at the tiny spark that flickered.  There were folks he knew back there fighting folks he did not know.  But no one knew him anymore, including himself.  He had lost his body, and now he was losing his mind.

He had been killed by an infected Walk-In, and found himself in a new body.  The person who formerly inhabited their body was left to wander in limbo, until their body was released from the Walkin-In.  If that happened, then the lost soul could return to their body.

If their body died while the Walk-In inhabited it, then the lost soul would remain in limbo for eternity. 

To become a Walk-In, one must be killed by a Walk-In.  Before the events of Fuckno, this had occurred in the number of human occurrences exactly three-thousand, one-hundred and seventy-two.

Fuckno became a gate of Hell.

Lenny looked down at the sausage arm in his lap and his stomach growled.  He was hungry.  He recalled how the scent of human flesh cooking from the human leg torch smelled good to him.

Yet, he considered that raw human flesh would taste nice as well.

He lifted the limp, numb appendage attached to his shoulder, and understood that it would turn gangrene in a day or two if he didn't remove it.

The bones inside where broken from his fall upon it, during his panicked sprint away from the melee behind him into the dark hole of the sewer drainage system of Fuckno, built eighty years previous.

He could have a bit of a nosh and then slide the broken bones out of the meat and in doing so prevent the gangrene from setting in.

He would have to tie off the arm so as not to bleed to death. 

It made perfect sense to him.

Perfect sense, you know, is not something that the drug-addled brain of a druggie or a drunk can possess.

They make their own set of ethics and rules, and then they break them.

They, us, you, me.  We all make excuses for the bad behavior we are each capable of doing, and then we do.

Lenny knew that he wore different clothing now than from before he had been attacked (and died).

The pockets were all weird.  He now wore a track suit.

He was dressed similar to the scary man who held a human leg as a torch.

They had both come from the same heroin party on the top floor of  the heroin hotel.

They must have been friends, but Lenny didn't know anything.

He did not know anything at all.

However, he would become schooled there in that underground tube, in the dark.

Lenny took the drawstring out of the track suit pants and wrapped it about the sausage arm.  He made a slip knot and yanked the string so tight it almost snapped.  He could feel nothing at any rate. 

He held one string in his teeth and yanked on the other end and pulled the loop to close the knot, then made a bunch of simple but firm granny knots and then let go.

He was hungry.

When you wake up in the middle of the night and find your arm to be asleep, it can be unnerving. 

In such a state, if you were to bite your own flesh, you would not feel anything.

When your arm woke back up, after the pins and needles the pain would be excruciating.

Lenny knew that his arm was dead.  It had been asleep long enough to determine that it would never wake up.

But to eat your own flesh?

That is the ultimate Taboo.

He began with the fore-arm because it was meaty and handy, so to speak. 

He was hungry.

The skin tore away in his teeth.

Blood squirted out across his cheeks as he bit and pulled  Warm oil from the sub-dermal fat made his lips greasy.  It tasted like a combination of rust and olive oil.

The meat underneath was sort of tough, but he found that his teeth were sharp.

He dug right in and pulled out a sizable chunk.  It chewed like hot, tender steak, and it tasted like heaven to a cannibal.  It made him want to eat all of it and more.

All about him he heard whispering.

Some folks were called to this occasion, this feast.

These folks were not human, although some of them might once have been.

A slippery sensation of falling backwards down a flight of stairs, before hitting the steps below, entered his brain.

He felt the world tilt away, and he kept right on chewing.

Fire and Brimstone   by The Bootleggers 

In that dank cavern, the echoes of past lives filled the tunnel with howls and shrieks.

Lenny could not hear a thing.

The screams of a fight way off down yonder by the tiny spark combined with the screeches of the newly freed.

Lenny pulled away chunks of tasty flesh from the arm and barely chewed them.  He gnawed on the bones of the ulna and the radius, until there was no more meat on them.

He frowned in the pitch-black of the tunnel.

Then he remembered what he was doing.

He grabbed the arm by the hand on the other end, and he pulled.

It would not come away.

He wiggled it and felt resistance from his shoulder.

He got to his knees and he held that hand firm in his grasp and yanked as hard as he could.

Indeed, the bones pulled away from what remaining connective tissues there were, and the skeletal arm came free.

The voices about him caught his attention.

Finally.

His eyes grew wide in the dark.

He was not alone.  He should have known this.  And now he did.

He staggered up and whipped the bony arm about, to fend off his new attackers.

He was holding his new weapon by the hand.

There was no connection.  He hit nothing in his frenzy, his rage upon being attacked.

All he heard then was whispering.

“…thank you thank you thank you…”

“…it must taste gooooood….”

“…i want some….”

“…we will follow him…”

“…the gate is open…”

“…follow him to the end of the Earth…”

Indeed, the Gates of Hell had been opened.

This would change everything.

God Help You.

God help Us All.

---willies out.

The Fuckno Wars TFW CH 27 Lenny Eats

Seen drove forth in his stolen Jeep.  He was an infected Walk-In.  He was one of them strange entities, but he had lost his way, come what may.

Sven rode in his own stolen Beemer.  He had infected that Walk-In who had come to kill him, and he simply thought he was now somehow invincible.  A man without fear of death will be quite dangerous, until he finds out that he is wrong.

And Lenny Sustenuto, well, he just ran in fear.  He knew nothing at all, and even less now.  All that he had was fear to guide him.  That is the worst state to visit.

He did not know that he was now a Walk-In, and what opportunities this afforded him. 

Do you know, the memories of the leg torch burned in his mind, and also in his stomach.  He had been infected by Sven as well, through the infected original Walk-In, Seen.

Got it?

Good.

Glad somebody does.

Just kidding.

You know me.

The Fuckno Wars

Chapter 27

Lenny

Eats

Howl   by Beware Of Darkness

Lenny could not get the smell of the leg torch out of his mind.  He could smell it.  he could almost taste it.  A piece of calf meat is best when sizzled briefly in a hot cast iron pan with sautéed onions and shrooms and au jus poured over it.

But now, he considered that is might be best eaten when raw, and fresh.

He whimpered as he ran, instead of screaming in the horror that he felt from his own thoughts.

He needed to be very quiet in the black death of the south-side of Fuckno.

He did not know what the fuck was happening to his mind.

He did not know why his arm was numb and why it kept smacking him in the balls as he ran in full-on panic.

Do Not Panic.

He looked for a place to hide so he could sort it all out, and maybe cry like a baby for a little while.

There it was.


Under the light of the blood red moon, the streets began to make sense.  Of course he knew this place.  He had lived there for a few months, making his way along looking for more crack and heroin to appease them demons. 

Sherry was his girl, and she would help him with his deadened arm.  His dead end arm.

He had met her in the course of his intravenous travels, and she was very cool to him. She was of the same ilk, the same kind of person.  Just wandering along in the lost and hopeless state of the drug addict at the end of the rope, where only a noose knot kept you from falling into death and eternal silence.

Or Hell?

Which was worse?

Hell here, or Hell after?

Lenny saw a place that he could hide out for a bit.

He slunk into the shadows from the red moon overhead and caught his breath.  He stifled it, breathing slow and low.  He listened.

Indeed, he heard the voices of those who had watched him, a crazy man steaming at full throttle down the middle of the street in the dark, whimpering all along  the way, with his fat sausage arm swinging about.

“…pssst, he went in over there…”

“…what the fuck is up with that dude...”

“…he stole some good shit…”

“…they be looking for him…”

“…we taking it from him before they come here…”

Lenny knew the rules.

You just don’t make a spectacle of yourself like he had just done.  But he had been panicking.  He hadn’t been in his right mind.  And now, he needed to get the fuck out of there.  He would have company very soon.

He remembered where he was, and the first rule about being followed is that you never lead someone to your ultimate safe haven.  You safe that for last, after you have gotten rid of your followers, your trackers.


  Never lead everyone to your home, whatever it is that you may call home.

So he ran down the alley and turned left.  He knew exactly where the next place was that he would go.

It was the first place, and then he would go to some more.

He would lose them.

Yup.

While he ran, the urge to eat grew in his belly.  He had the most powerful hunger he had ever felt.   It almost made him turn back and face his trackers.

But what would he do with a deadened arm?  Swing it at them?  Hope for a good connect, and then pummel them with it?

Yeah, right. 

Lenny found the sewer grate that led down to a tunnel below.  It was like a highway off-ramp; a place for a rest stop.  Everyone knew about it, and it was a decent hiding place.  There were folks down there, he was certain of it, and they would be in various states of mind-altered realities from their intoxicants.

No one went there unless they had something to offer, or else were prepared to defend themselves.

But he knew everyone there.

Of course, he did not realize that he was not in his own body.  He had Walked-In to a young fellow who did not belong there.

Lenny slid the grate to the side and crawled in, and he left it open.  He climbed down the hand holds with his one good hand, stepping down and then pulling forward for the next grab below on the hand rails set in the cement of the tube for the sewer workers.  He hopped down in the dry bottom of the underground run-off canal.

There were lights off to his right.  Those were from lanterns and cigarette lighters, and smoking pipes.  He felt in his pocket for what little stash he might own, but the pockets were all wrong.

What the fuck?

He staggered forward, still breathing hard, and a shadow stood up as he got near the lights.

“Say your name!”

The sounds of boots scurrying to get up and also moans of “Wha?  Who dat?” greeted him.

He said, “I’m Lenny.  You guys know me.”

The voice said, “Lenny?  Smatta?  You got a cold?”

Lenny said, “Hey bud, I got your cold… in my fucking balls!”

There was laughter as his response, and the figure turned a bit in ease.

And then Lenny got to the light.

“WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?”

Lenny stopped and about shit himself.

He saw more silhouettes in front of them lights, and they looked like they meant business.

He said, “It’s me, Lenny! Come on!  Be cool.  There is a blackout going on.”

It made no sense to them, those in the state of intoxication, in the darkened hole of the asshole of Fuckno, underground.

"Fucking invader!  Fuck you!"

Lenny turned tail and ran off in the other direction, and they ran after him.

As he passed the overhead entrance, he heard voices from up there.

“…he went down in here!...”

“…the hole?  He went in the hole?...”

“…I’m going down after him!  They gonna take that shit from him!...”

Then he heard many voices coming down that entrance as he ran off in the dark.  They started to holler after him.   The first ones to land in the tunnel saw the lights and those folks running after Lenny.  

Those folks must have thought it was a Police Raid, because they turned around and ran back to the lights.

The newcomers saw this and shouted to the others, “He’s over here!  He’s running to the lights!”

Lenny ran for a long time until he tripped and fell in the pitch black and landed on his fat sausage arm.

He saw stars.

When these dissipated, he looked back and saw a bunch of flickering back and forth across the tiny speck of light way off yonder down the tunnel.

He pushed himself up with his good arm and his stomach grumbled.

He kept looking at the spark of light.  One tiny speck, down in the depths of Hell.

His enemies fought among themselves, trying to make sense with senseless brains, looking for something that wasn't didn't exist.

Lenny was safe from them, but he wasn't completely safe.

He wasn't alone.

He had a new enemy.

It was himself.

His stomach gurgled.

He wanted to go back there and eat.

He wanted to eat them bastards.

He wanted to suck the drugs out of their blood vessels.

Lenny wanted a snack.

He smelled something on his lap.

It was heavy, freshly dead, and it had broken from his fall upon it.

His mouth salivated.

He felt the thing.

It felt like a big fat sausage.




 His stomach rumbled so loud it echoed down the tunnel.

Lenny ripped the sleeve from his dead arm.

It tasted pretty damn good to him.

Dirty Old Town   by Bettye LaVette

God Help You.

God Help Us All.

---willies out.

TFW CH 26 Under A Blood Red Moon

 

Out In The Streets   by Downtown Fiction

Lenny Sustenuto ran off into the darkness to find his girl named Sherry.  He felt his dead arm swinging about from his shoulder.  It had been tied off for too long, after the needle had done its job.  It wasn’t his fault that he had walked-in to a body with an arm that would turn green in a day or three.

In the darkness, as his eyes grew accustomed to the faint red light from the moon overhead, the image of the scary man holding a human leg as a flaming torch kept coming back to his mind.  

His stomach gurgled from the memory of that awful sight.  How could a person do such a thing?

Lenny pushed the image from his mind and looked around to see if he could find out where in the hell he was.  Everything looked different without streetlamps and street signs.  It was all black with a weak glow of red light from over head.  There were people out, too, and everyone seemed to be keeping very quiet.

As you know, the forgotten, black heart of Fuckno was not a place for any good citizen to visit during the day.  But in the blackest night that he had ever seen, it was a place for no one at all.

He wondered how far the blackout occurred.  Perhaps the rest of the city had finally decided to give up on its dead extremity?  Like an appendage about to turn gangrene, maybe the wolf gnawed it off to escape?

Where the fuck was Sherry?  Where the fuck was he, himself?

It made no sense at all.

The scary man said that he’d had a snack from the leg.

Lenny’s stomach grumbled and his mouth salivated.

A snack.

A snack sounded actually quite good now.

Lenny shivered.  


What the fuck was happening to him?


The leg torch had smelled sort of tasty.


Lenny screamed in horror and ran faster, with his fat, sausage arm swinging about and banging him in the balls periodically. 

+   +   +   +   +   +   +

Sven walked out of the heroin hotel and turned to watch the old building wake up.  It was marvelous, the way that the tall windows on the ground floor glowed as if a New Years’ party was taking place inside.  He felt festive.

Perhaps there were other folks inside who had not succumbed to the succubus of the evil horse?  He hoped so.  He wanted some company.  They could squeal with delight at this magnificent party that started before his eyes.   He would make them squeal even more, for his own sort of delight.

Sven had truly found his element.

It was fire.

Sinister Kid    by Black Keys

The boards covering the windows blazed and fell away as they disintegrated.  He saw shadows running about in the lobby of the old hotel.  It must have been years since the place was so brightly lit up from the inside.  The heat of the flames pushed Sven back and away, into the street.

Then one poor fellow ran out the front entrance with his head on fire.  He ran down the street shouting for water, smacking at his head.

He saw someone inside the alcove banging about, trying to find the exit.  But there is no exit, there is only entrance.  The figure double over and coughed, or vomited, and then slumped to the ground and writhed about in the heat of the flames.

Sven grinned.  He could hear screams from inside.  It was like music to his ears.  It was a chorus from the mouth of a hell hole.  These too stopped in a bit.

His heart felt a twinge.  The show was over.  He looked up and watched as the second floor glowed from deep inside, and then he heard more shouts.  These ones were of surprise.  He wondered if they would run to the top floor.  He looked up there at the fire he had started with the legs of the kids all asleep in the longest night of their years.  Then he remembered that he should find the car that belonged to the keys he felt in the pocket of his velour track suit.

He looked down at the track suit he wore.  He muttered, “Arr, farr degrader.”

He took the keys out and inspected the fob to which they were attached.  There was a familiar logo on the fob.  It was a Barvarian Motor Works design, the one with the blue and white propeller blades.

Daddy bought his son a Beemer.

Sven thanked the daddy of the young man, whose body he now inhabited.  He had walked into this young person without even knowing that he could.  He simply thought that his next stop would be in the fires of Hell.

He smiled as he found the cars under the light of the fire overhead.  He should have hurried.  It was quite possible that the building could come crashing down on top of these pretty vehicles.  They were all new, and they were built to be fast.

But only one was a BMW. 

And do you know, it was painted a deep purple.

But he had no idea what the color purple meant in that ugly megalopolis.

He did not know the value of the color, and what power he held in his hands now.

He opened the car up and slid in.

Such fine craftsmanship.  He closed the door and enjoyed how the seat seemed to cradle him, to nestle him safe and sound.

The vibration of the engine made his balls hum.  It was pleasurable.

Sven did not know what lay ahead for him, but he was sure of one thing, and it was this:  he was going to have himself some fun now.

When a man does not fear dying, it makes him quite dangerous.

God Help You.

God Help Us All.

---willies out.

The Fuckno Wars TFW CH 25 Food

New Alphabet   by EELS

S V E N

Sven held the leg torch up and looked about in the lobby of the decrepit hotel.  He wanted to set the place on fire.  It would become a beacon, a setting point, a place to use as a marker once it glowed in the blackened heart of Fuckno.

From that flame, he would mark his new territory with a path of destruction and fire.

He looked back at Lenny Sustenuto to ask him for some input.

Lenny said, “Dude.  Why are you bleeding?”

Sven frowned and felt with his free hand on his body, but he didn’t have any wounds.  He said, “I am not injured.  What do you mean by this?”

Lenny tried to use his dead arm to point, and he muttered swear words.  He looked back up into the face of the scary fellow before him and he said, “You’re bleeding from your mouth, Sir Dude.”

Sven grinned.  He used his bloody hand to wipe his lips, but the blood was now smeared all about his cheeks. He said, “I had a snack on the way down the stairwell.  Fresh calf meat from this leg here.  Is this better?”

Lenny shrieked and ran off into the darkness.

Sven shouted after him, “Lenny, do you have a napkin?”

Then he laughed and went to the shredded drapes that hung from the broken windows of the lobby.

He lit each one, and marveled at his luck.  This was simply way too easy.

He tilted his head back and howled.

Then he stretched back and yawned deep.   He loosened up.

He was in for quite a bit of work before the first rays of the sun.

That would be in a few hours.

He had some fun to find, as well.

But first, one of the cars left from the young people he had overdosed in the upper floor.

He did not know it yet, but he had Walked In to a young Purple Robe.

This would afford him a great opportunity.

SEEEEEEEEN

The Walkin who had come back to stop Sven’s cannibalism and torture drove along in his new found Jeep.  He was infected by the cannibal, and he had lost his agenda.  He had lost his way.

Come what may.

Seen was on a new path, and it was one that would lead everyone he encountered further into the depths of despair, depravity, and death.

He had opened the portals to Hell.

See you on the weekend, my friend.


God Help You.

God Help Us All.


---willies out.

TFW CH 24 The Fuckno Wars Sven And Lenny

Wicked Garden   by Stone Temple Pilots

Here's the link to the previous part.  It will help you, my friend.

Sven stood back in the shadows to watch the fire he had ignited.  From behind him he heard a whisper.  

“Why did you do that?”

He whipped about and held the pistol out.  His skin crawled.  He could not see a thing.  His eyes were blinded from his first fire behind him as he peered into the darkness.

He said, “Who are you?”

The whispering person said, “Please don’t shoot me mister.  I’m Lenny Sustenuto.  What’s going on?  How did I get here?”

Sven could now see two sparks of light off to his right.  The flames from behind him glinted in the eyes of the young man now before him.

Sven flicked the cigarette lighter in his other hand.  The electricity escaped the city and now,

pitch

black 

darkness 

gripped that forgotten hotel.  




He saw the face of a teenager before him. 

Sven said, “Why do you not know what is going on here and now?”

Lenny said, “The last thing I knew, I was attacked.  Then I woke up here.  Well, over there by that fire before you did that shit.  I got the fuck out to find Sherry.  You seen her?  Why you burning this place up?”

Sven frowned.  He made an assessment.  Then he smiled and held the lighter up to his own face.  He said, “We have to get out of here.  This place will get very hot. Will you follow me down?”

Lenny said, “I don’t wanna burn up here mister!  Show me the way!”

The twain had met.

Sven said, “Hold on.  I have to think...  This cigarette lighter will not glow well for two of us. We need another light source to navigate the stairwell to go down.”

He smirked.  He would have some fun after all.

I Put A Spell On You   by Tab Benoit

Sven ran back into the room that erupted brighter and hotter from the flames crawling along the old carpeting on the floor.  He swung the backpack off his shoulder and dumped the pistol and lighter into it. 

He pulled out a large knife and knelt down by one of them overdosed young people there.


She was the last one to see him, Sven, before she died.


She would join Sherry, and she would kill him.

She saw what he did.




Sven pulled her pants off.

He grabbed her leg.

He inserted the knife into her knee under her patella and made a circle around the knee. 


The tendons are quite strong you know, and cutting through them takes great effort. 

After it was cut off, he trimmed the calf meat away from the shin bones.  


He grabbed her leg by its new bone-handle and placed the tennis shoe on her foot into the fire.  He laid her leg down and stepped back.

The shoe began to sizzle, and then it caught fire. 

Sven grabbed the torch up by its handle of bone. 

Such a marvelous sight to behold in his evil eyes. 

He held the young lady’s half-leg before him and illuminated the face of the young man in the shadows.

Lenny doubled over and vomited. 

Sven said, “No time for that now.  We have to leave this place.”  He walked past Lenny.


He found the stairwell exit, using the light from the leg torch he held up high and proud.



He said, "See you in the depths, Lenny."

Down.

Down.

Down.

Into the depths of the underbelly of Fuckno, the ugliest place to have ever existed, Sven felt like he had finally arrived at a place he could call Home.

He stopped at the end of the stairwell and saw the door before him standing open.  



What wonders lay beyond? 

Would there be something for a cannibal to eat?

Should he go to the beach and get a tan?


Should he go west?

First of all, he would need to find an automobile.  One thing he had learned about the society of Calif-For-No-One was that nobody ever walked.

He waited for a moment.

He knew that Lenny would be coming along.

He knew it in his heart.

Sure enough, Lenny stumbled down the stairwell, screaming along the way.  He said, “Hey, dude!  Don’t let me burn!  Where the fuck are you dude?”

Dumbass.

Sven took in a deep breath.  


There is no escape, you know.  There is only forward motion.  But it's better when you have company.

He turned around and said, “Mr. Sustenuto!  You must keep calm!  You will frighten off the fresh meat!  And also, The Killers."

Lenny shut himself the fuck up.

He had no fucking clue, 



But,


You will.



You will get a clue, my friend.



It will be very ugly.

Party At Ground Zero    by  Fishbone

God Help You.

God Help Us All.

---willies out