[kuyo]: 386.short stories.Sunday

Sunday
The day started at noon, when I had prepared my belongings and self. My suit neatly packed complete with shoes and socks. In contrast, I was dressed in pirate pants and a Hawaiian shirt as I departed into the world. I tried to wait judging from the excess of time I had had the previous year on this particular excursion. Naturally, I showed up even earlier this year, so roamed the city to pass time after dropping my stuff off in the cathedral. The first shop I found to be open was the comic shop, which had a door covered in flyers. Since I had the time, I decided to read what they offered. It read:
Daydreams Comics is Moving!!!
Not that it had any true effect to me. It was but an inconvenience. I had planned to film a theft of their penny tray, but what did that matter. Nothing more than the plans foiled by my unsupportive friends. I carried on in search of something to do. 
It wasn’t long before I came upon Ragstock, run by hippies or plain college students judging from the dubious aura it had about it. No matter, the prices were decent enough, even if most of their garments were specifically made for women. At first, I examined the hats, but those no longer suited me especially not those whose basic form matched that of confederate soldier’s. Neither their pants nor their jackets compelled me, but two shirts attracted me. The first one was grey and had a plain message: Save Ferris. The back displayed a second message built off the first: He’s a righteous dude. Surprisingly, this shirt covered the entire array of the day. The second was red and much clearer. Three skulls would sit on my bosom with dripped silver beneath. Placed atop that was a Celtic knot, typically a symbol for my existence. These shirts I purchased barely knowing how I’d need them.
I returned to the cathedral, which now had several students and staff members working to prepare for the show, I helped, to some extent, but found myself leaning against the altar looking up at the structure depicting how Jesus was crucified. 
“Now you too can learn to persecute the Son of God,” I mumbled before being told to leave.
It was then that Kyle and James entered the cathedral. I still had time yet, but now I had companionship, a meager bond, but that and their car was all I need to kill Cronos. At first, Aaron was hesitant of leaving, but a little coercing convinced him that leaving was best. In no time, we had crossed town and had arrived at the grocers, but it seemed that none of us had money. Aaron’s grandmother had temporarily given him five dollars before taking it way a moment later, and I had left mine at the cathedral. I brought it up, and somehow the connection between money and whores was made. For the forty dollars I had, we would only have gotten a herpes infested South Park character. Screw blow up dolls when you have felt. The perversion of the day had already grown thick, but a thought came up of how a male doll was blown up. Immediately, James proclaimed that it would be the same as a real man, through the penis. Soon thereafter, Kyle brought up that you might as well hump a water bed based off of what I had brought up: no one has the time to blow up a doll when their horny unless their an old guy with too much of Viagra. This conversation was interrupted by the sight of a woman flying a kite in the middle of a lawn, this woman turned out to be Aaron’s grandmother. It was at this time that it dawned on me that we were entering a trailer park.
In a pitiful attempt to make their trailers more attractive, the trailers had some sheet metal to cover the wheels. At the sight of an airport taxi before him, Aaron pulled into some random driveway, which now brings up the thought that this was the driveway to a trailer. Whoever lived here could simply pull their entire house out of this driveway. Aaron got out of the car and crossed the street, and as James pointed out, it didn’t seem as if he knew where he was going. Once he found his house, however, he quickly got what he came for, but it didn’t seem he had even gone inside. Perhaps the formula he returned with was sitting on his porch. James took it, and for posterity, started to read it.
WARNING: Not intended for use by persons under age 18. Do not use if pregnant or nursing. Do not exceed recommended dose. Do not consume synephrine or caffeine from other sources including but not limited to, coffee, tea, soda and other dietary supplements or medications containing phenyphrine or caffeine. Contains Caffeine. Do not use for more than 8 weeks. Consult your physician prior to use if you are taking medication including but not limited to MAOI inhibitors, antidepressants, aspirin, nonsteroidal anti-inflammatory drugs or products containing phenylephrine, ephedrine, pseudoephedrine, or other stimulants. Consult your physician prior to use if you have a medical condition including but not limited to, heart, liver, kidney, or thyroid disease, psychiatric or epileptic disorders, difficulty urinating, diabetes, high blood pressure, cardiac arrhythmia, recurrent headaches, enlarged prostate, or glaucoma. Discontinue 2 weeks prior to surgery or if you experience rapid heartbeat, dizziness, severe headache or shortness of breath. For healthy adults use only. KEEP OUT OF THE REACH OF CHILDREN
James had to question if these were nutrition facts or drug facts, and said he would have to take half of a serving, out of the “Two powerful servings” in a single container, due to the antidepressants part. However, by the time the drug got to me, there was barely any left, and I suspected it was strife with backwash. After what I had heard about the full quality of Liquid Speed, I decided the backwash wasn’t worth drinking. Pity, I probably could have taken a lot.
As it turned out, this excursion made us late for the rehearsal. I quickly grabbed my suit and ran into the bathroom to find another guy changing there, but given my time frame, now was not the time to be picky. Before long, the two of us had multiplied into four, and the last one made a remark about how “Cozy” it was. As soon as I had exchanged my pirate garbs for my suit, I ran out of the bathroom and headed upstairs. I crawled along the back to my place and continued as if nothing had happened.
After learning my seat, I was free to leave to get the necessities I would need during the concert: an Ipod and my Save Ferris t-shirt. As usual, Mike was an ass, and had to persecute me for my shirt as he had done for my hair and a number of other shallow things concerning my eccentric nature. It seemed many people had missed the rehearsal, so we were at a lack for room. Since there was no way the six of us could stay in this situation, I convinced Brandon to move to the empty seat two pews behind us. He was so concerned with how this would look: him getting up from the audience and leading us on stage, not that it would matter seeing as how we were already messed up, but comfort prevailed.  Later, he decided on a revision: I move a pew up. This placed me next to Merit Rodriguez, who was only Mexican in name and breast. I impressed her with my sin with my Save Ferris shirt and playing digital Klondike, but my sins could not compare to what she would soon do. When it was our turn to perform, I quickly and skillfully slipped the Save Ferris shirt off revealing my white shirt and tie, which was brown and displayed the scale of Justice, who I hope was not the only one blind to the happenings in this cathedral.
At no moment were we more divine than when we sang, as if the lord himself compelled us to behave, but all the while I expected the holy spirit to expel us all from the confines of his house leaving us on the pavement covered in boils. It wouldn’t be the first time I had been thrown out of a church, but to be fair, the last time was due to a new priest who didn’t want to let scouts to use the building. However, we were hardly model scouts.
When we sat back down, it seemed as if the Holy Spirit came over Merit, or perhaps she was simply possessed with the Whore of Babylon. Indeed, many men took advantage of her convulsions myself, admittedly, among them. She rested her shaking legs against the pew before us massaging the tenors before her, but what was worse was the effect the convulsions had on me for my feet rested on the knee guard as well… As it turned out, she was as frisky as one would expect from the men she was pleasing. She would take some straw, which had origins I am unaware of, and tease the tenors before her. I felt as if these sins had to be confessed, but how would the priest feel if I confessed. It was with this thought that I knew I was going to hell if god cared at all about what humanity did.