The Fat Kid reporting. . .
Clintonville – Things have been strange around Columbus for the past three weeks. Dark figures have been seen lurking in the backyards of quiet suburban homes, and stealing past windows left open to the cool night air. And in the morning, people are waking up to find very important things missing – their dogs. It seemed unrelated that there were strange sounds issuing from the Park of Roses late at night, when the glow of the deep-woods bonfires painted High Street a dim orange. But it wasn’t.
The goddess Danu is apparently super pissed that her dietary needs aren’t being met, and is threatening to crush people’s skulls and set the entire Earth on fire if she doesn’t get a goat by next Saturday. So, you know, let’s start looking, people.
It turns out that the late-night dog thefts, and round-the-clock cat disappearances are in fact being caused by Priest of the First Church of Danu of Latter Day Pagans, Decanus Picto, and his parishioners who worship Danu in the forest every Saturday night. I found this out by trekking back there in search of the man himself, and found him flustered. You might even say scared.
When I entered the forest, I went toward the tell-tale glow, and found the fire, which was about half a mile from High Street, and somewhat smaller than I expected, in a clearing by a stream that is actually probably a drainage ditch. Decanus and his parishioners were standing around it, and he was talking to them very quickly, and in a low voice. When I stepped out of the tree line and was spotted, Decanus dismissed his followers, and he and I had the following conversation:
FK: Hey, man. I wanted to talk to you, to ask you whether you knew anything about what was going on here in Clintonville lately.
DP: Um. . . no. I don’t really know what you mean.
FK: Well, there are strange things going on. You read the Dispatch, I mean, you know people’s dogs are going missing and stuff, and cats are, well, people are noticing that their cats are gone. You’re usually pretty up on things. What is all this about?
DP: I don’t know. I know nothing.
FK: OK, well, what’s up with this little fire? The last time I saw one of these goat burnings, the fire was like twelve feet tall. This is just a little bigger than a camp fire or something. What’s the deal with that?
DP: Nothing. Just scaling it down, that’s all.
FK: Nothing again? Really? Won’t scaling it down piss off Danu or something? What’s going on here?
DP: All right, fine. The fire’s smaller because we don’t need a big fire anymore. There have been some problems, and, uh. . . we’ve moved away from goats.
FK: Moved AWAY from goats? Isn’t that inadvisable? Didn’t Danu specify, in the Divine Revelations that you yourself passed along to us, that she didn’t want any replacements except the occasional sheep? [See revelation 4 in The Divine Revelations of Danu – Ed]
DP: Well, yeah, she sort of said that, a little bit. But, you know, we’re running into some issues here. Columbus is a metropolitan area, man, and there just aren’t that many goats to go around, and the ones that are available are being used up by the Santeria guys on the east side. And the police already warned us that they know what’s going on. They really really don’t like us.
FK: I thought you said there’d be a law suit if anyone tried to interfere with your practicing your religion.
DP: Well, yeah, I did technically say that, but I can’t afford a lawyer yet. The collection plate at our church mostly just has forged checks in it, so I can’t buy a fucking thing since they shut down Nix Check Cashing . And trying to steal a goat? The cops, man. . . they’ll tase you. Don’t fuck with them.
FK: I see. So, you don’t need the big fire because of the substitutions you’re making, then – is that it?
DP: Yeah, that’s it a little. I mean, squirrels don’t take that much fire before they’re, you know, pretty much just smoke and ashes.
FK: So you’re burning squirrels, then, and you have no idea what’s going on with the missing dogs?
DP: No, no, no, no, no. Yes. A bit.
FK: You’re stealing dogs.
DP: Yes.
FK: Because you can’t find enough goats.
DP: Yes.
FK: This is a hell of a thing you’ve gotten yourself into.
DP: Right. You should hear what she’s been saying.
FK: You mean you’ve been in direct contact with her finally?
DP: Sort of. I mean, it was the same kind of thing as last time. She sort of showed up while I was sleeping, and she sort of told me that she was going to kill everyone.
FK: She’s going to kill everyone? On the Earth?
DP: Well, not all at once. She’s going to start with some of that everlasting fire. You know the stuff regular God uses for Hell and all that? She knows where he keeps it, and, uh, she’s apparently not above stealing enough of it to set the whole world on fire. And then she’s going to do a sort of walk-through and check that no one’s still alive, and if they are she’s going to kind of crush people’s skulls a little bit.
FK: A little bit?
DP: Well, ok, completely. Whatever. Just. . . calm down. And help us find some goats, OK? We only have two weeks before she’s going to do this, so if we can find a goat by then, we’re good, and we can go back to our normal routines.
FK: I hate to tell you this, but Danu’s kind of a bitch goddess, man.
DP: Nah, dude. She’s just got a lot of stress at work, you know? It’s really stressful. . . being worshipped. Asking for stuff. Receiving stuff. You know. It’s hard on her. Just give her a break. And NEVER suggest that she’s just getting her period. That doesn’t go over well.
FK: Yeah, I probably wasn't going to do that anyway.
DP: Well. . . good.
So, there it is – the latest EoW date, September 3, 2011, originates right here in Clintonville, and is apparently conditional. If we can find enough goats to please the Celtic bitch goddess Danu, we can avert the crisis of crushed skulls and everlasting fire. If you have a goat, or know of one that can be easily bought or stolen, please contact us at sexcult@bluezer0.net No dogs, please.
