runs up to her, and she does not know any other choice, and mates with him, only she cannot have children with the locust. And, if they were, they would be disabled and backward. Since then, the girl has become disillusioned with men and mates with just about anyone to satisfy her needs. Everyone started calling her that – a consumer-consumer.
Far, far away from where the dimension of flies lurks, there is a dimension of potatoes. There, potatoes plant people in the ground and watch how they grow, and every six months they cut off their heads and cook soup out of them. Pushing a spoon to the throat, the potatoes feel how a person gives off a delicious aroma. Stewed, fried, slices, mashed potatoes, slices, with peel – they make dishes out of people’s heads in various ways. Children especially love them, and ask for supplements. Then, mom and dad go to the garden and cut off another handful of ears, eyes, nose and tongue, and go home to fry them in a pan. Here – meat has always been in the first place, as the potato is the food of salvation in our world. There were no other animals there. But, nevertheless, if you rustle through the back streets of the beds, you can find macaques and orangutans, gorillas and chimpanzees. Potatoes do not distinguish them very well, therefore, every spring, when they go out into the dimension of people, they euthanize these animals and drag them to their home, making them in reserve. Only they often come with a large abundance of hair on the body and head, and you have to clean them off better than people – with a human cutter. Monkeys scream like not people, but potatoes distinguish only silence and do not hear voices. But as soon as a person is silent, the potato immediately thinks that this is a rational animal, and they begin to cry. For just a second, they cry until they chop them for borscht, make zrazy out of them and put whites in the oven. But as soon as a person is silent, the potato immediately thinks that this is a rational animal, and they begin to cry. For just a second, they cry until they chop them for borscht, make zrazy out of them and put whites in the oven. But as soon as a person is silent, the potato immediately thinks that this is a rational animal, and they begin to cry. For just a second, they cry until they chop them for borscht, make zrazy out of them and put whites in the oven.
Every morning outside Norway, Zlatoust Logan, the son of Wolverine, wakes up. He works in a cane field and collects sugar. He is driven by a horse, hitting him on the back with a whip, forcing him to drag a plow lassoed around his neck. Not only does he collect sugar canes on the field, but he also has to plow the land along the way. Horses sit on a plow and drink martinis with an umbrella on a glass. They are constantly laughing, discussing something. But, this time, Logan, most likely, he was tired of being a slave, went against his masters. More specifically, parents. He was found in childhood in a cauldron of radioactive uranium and tellurium, and they took him in. The horses did not think that he would survive, they took him as an entrance stuffed animal to frighten predators. But one day, the scarecrow began to cry when the horse, entering the house drunk, brushed its hooves on the baby’s teeth. Then he, waving his hand, without knowing it, not realizing it, cut off the horse’s hooves. And even then, the horse neighed. He’s always neighing. Logan grew up to be a good worker. I didn’t think that there were other people, my parents didn’t show it to anyone. That’s why he thought he was an invalid, who was a bit different from them. And the horses, when he asked them, laughing, without words, answered that he sees himself as a two-legged, and all the rest as a four-legged – a horse. He believed everything. There was nothing to compare. As proof, they pointed to themselves and neighed:
You see that we are horses, so we see that you are a horse.
“Okay, dad and mom,” he said, and dragged the plow with his parents.
But on this day, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a car on the other side of the field, there was a man standing there, bipedal. And Logan doubted that his parents were telling the truth, uncovered his claws, and attacked them demanding an answer. Immediately the parents bowed their heads, put ropes around their necks, and began to plow the ground and gather reeds. It was clear that it was impossible to hide everything from him for so long. On that day, Logan left his only home and went to the car, and neighed, getting on all fours, trying to communicate with the man. The man, seeing him, fell to the ground and rolled with laughter. And almost died. Then he got up, dusted himself off, twisted his finger at his temple, got into the car, took out a gun and told him to get out of here – an underdeveloped schizophrenic. Logan didn’t understand, of course, and walked towards him, wiggling his butt as if he had a tail. And then a man shot at him, the bullet reached Chrysostom and ripped off all the skin from his face. Logan spat out pellets from his mouth, flew up to him, turned around and kicked him in the chest, that all the organs flew out of him – his heart crashed into a bough about ten meters from Logan, a crow flew up, pecked, fell to the ground and died immediately. The heart could not be blacker from sin, poisoned. Even the tree crumbled. And the land became unsuitable for plants. Logan got into the car and pressed what he saw, on all the pedals and began to turn the steering wheel in all directions. The car flew up and rushed down the road, right into the ravine, and reached the parents’ house, destroyed their house. The gas boiler exploded and started a fire. Then the boiler fell on the father’s head, and shredded him, and the second fragment landed on the mother, and she began to burn. Logan flew out of the car, the equipment flew onto a stone, rolled over, a branch stuck into the tank, and the fuel splashed right on the mother, who immediately burned in the agony of pain. The fried meat smelled good. Chrysostom drooled, and having attacked the body of his parents, he possessed them to the bone, because the instincts of a predator cannot be put anywhere. Logan had never seen meat and did not even think that you can eat meat, he smelled the smell, realized he was different, and ate them. Father with salt, mother cut into small slices, like a sausage. True, it gave off gasoline, but everything was quickly ventilated. Finishing his mother, Logan saw the second horse inside her, small, even her eyes did not open. Instead of eating it, he left the little one behind, built a house out of trees nearby, and raised him to be a real person. Taught him to speak. Read. Subtract. They studied together, according to the books that one day the god lowered on them, opening the heavens. Holding out the books, he said:
“Study hard, my son.
He snapped his finger, and both of them began to understand letters and numbers, the human mind returned to them, rejecting the horse’s mind.
Indians and cowboys live on a towel that dries on a radiator. They are rock climbing.
Several chubby and skinny people are sitting in a flask in the laboratory of Professor Mendeleev. Mood and emotions are squeezed out of them, sweat for cooking chocolate. Then the mood is implanted in marshmallows, in lights, in mirrors, in water. The water cries because the earth does not run out of water, the fire laughs because all the kangaroos die in Australia.
The most important thing is not this. And that besides them, there are other beautiful creatures in the world that completely prove themselves in the field of development. The tea leaves are building a time machine to save their children from getting into the hot water. The box of “Princess Noori” is already on the shelves, and the older leaves have only a few days to build a time machine inside the bag and fly away from this hell. They make gears, chips, energy, wheels, an atom splitter out of the dust of their skins, so that only once, once, fly to the other side of the past. But when the time comes, they do not have time, and boiling water kills them, they drown. Sometimes, the surviving leaves float on the surface of the milk, try to climb onto the bowl and jump down, but the person drowns it with a spoon, closes the cup with a lid, or throws it in the trash,
And in honey, by the way, the gods of temptation live. They beckon you to eat them and they penetrate you. After all, they fight with your brain, and take over the neurons, and control you so that you yourself, without knowing it, begin to eat what your honey god wants to eat. The temptation is strong. God might want a rotten egg and you can’t resist, or he might want a juicy steak and you’ll find a way to cook a steak. And
