If his Heart were Dynamite and it Exploded in the Torso of a Worm, the Worm wouldn’t even Flinch

Yet another leading man, found guilty of cruelty, murder, making war, bullying, torture, and having done them purely in his name and for freedom of speech, is hereby condemned to die in the Electric Frying Pan. But before the condemned man fries, after which his atoning spirit will travel the universe’s atmospheres, forever teasing the wicked who desperately try to catch a nanosecond glimpse of redemption as it forms and disperses like a high mountain mist; the rites on this Day of Atonement are to be observed.

To prepare, the executioners practice their dark art by frying in test Frying Pans man sized stuffed toys, prize winning pumpkins, crash test dummies, and a blow up man-doll tragically damaged in a single motor vehicle accident. The Electric Frying Pan’s voltage will have a maximum of one million, but for him the condemned, and if necessary, the voltage will be turned to one million and one.

To ready himself the condemned man practices his suffering by cutting himself with vinegar dipped rusty razor blades, by drinking caustic soda, by eating rotten fish, by banging his head against a brick wall to the tribal chants of Gary Glitter. These practices could take place over a series of months, for the nature of his atonement is entirely in his hands.

The man and his executioners are to meet in a bare cell that lies beneath a ten story building located near the city’s cenotaph. In the centre of the cell is a coffee table upon which the condemned will stand. His face will be covered by a hood and his voice will be disguised. His executioners will be attired in dark grey business suits. They will be two men and two women aged between 25 and thirty five and they will be family people.

They will ask him why he did what he did. Because he was bored he’ll say. And if he had half a chance he would do it all again. The executioners decide among themselves who will be the leader. The designated one, now the celebrant will then put on a crimson stole and black cape and accompanied by the others will go to the head of the coffee table and face him. The other three stand to the side and behind the condemned. The celebrant chants in Latin how undeserving of forgiveness is the condemned, how he will not escape avenging judgment and how his soul will be marked forever by the seal of the Prolific Cane Toad. The others repeat the same words in English giving the condemned man the opportunity to utter his contempt.

Then the celebrant will deliver a verse from the lyrical I Should Be So Lucky which is to be followed by a verse from the singular Crabsody In Blue. The condemned man’s ritual response is contemptuous. The verses having been delivered in contempt. This is because the condemned is expected to be in denial about his sins. And because he is a special one the verses will be rendered in Twitter language for him to read and understand.

After this the celebrant will walk around the coffee table sprinkling it with koala urine drawn from the best brewery in town. While doing so the celebrant bows profoundly before the other three, saying pax vobiscum very loudly to each. Then the celebrant will take a bong from a cabinet behind, light it, take long deep tokes and sweeten the feet of the condemned with his breath. This is to show the condemned man the celebrant’s contempt.

The condemned, whose voice is disguised by a distorting microphone pinned to his jump suit lapel, is now invited to speak, but to speak as though he is remorseful. This is to demonstrate his vulnerable side, away from the media, and as though he was normal just like everybody.

In a low mumbled voice the condemned says as follows: “O me, who might have mercy and might spar, do present myself to the masses, for them to call upon me, whose servant’s soul is soon to be loosed into the atmosphere like a pall of polluting black smoke; do not then make me your enemy after the smoke, seek me out instead and my atonement will be universal atonement, for we are angels alike on game shows, we are cherubim alike on talent quests, and together we can be soft and cuddly at betting shops, and in paradise, and away from the pains of guilt, O me, ……..give me another hit from the bong.”

In response and in unison the executioners say thus: “This Electric Frying Pan that awaits through a secret door, by its solar heat, as also by the gift of the power vouchsafed unto us his executioners, that we should not bind and loose the ills of this man: (For he hath said unto us in confidence ‘why don’t yo’all get fucked’; whatsoever of his ills remit, they will not be remitted, ha ha; and whatsoever of his ills retained, they will not be retained, ha ha. And whatsoever we bind or loose into the air shall also be bound or loosed in the sewer.) By that same power, also, transmitted unto us from him, our koochie koo, he is forever unabsolved, and will be made as unwelcome as a floating turd in a public swimming pool, wherein, as a transgressor, he hath sinned against the Frying Pan, in word, and deed, and thought, and with all his senses, voluntarily and involuntarily, wittingly and through mighty ignorance. He, under the ban of the Frying Pan, hath incurred the curse of everyone and hath fallen under his own curse; and hath transgressed by every oath; and hath been bound, as a man, by the curse of narcissism, and hath never said sorry, not once, and no contrition of the heart was showed: he is now friable thanks to all these faults and bonds. May all these things which will proceed from the weakness of his mortal nature be consigned to oblivion and be inscribed unto the Frying Pan; through its loving-kindness; through the sayings of our most wise and best dressed, and the glorious Chico Roll, the father of takeaway innovation, and mother Meringue, of all that is sugary sweet, and of the holy, glorious and all-laudable Meat Pie, and its favourite topping the Tomato Sauce. Ungawa, oomph”.

The call of the condemned man and the response of the executioners are understood to mean the Electric Frying Pan will burn the condemned man’s transgressions, and evenly cook up his flesh and blood, contained in curses and oaths, and send his remaining soul off in turmoil into chaos everlasting. However, as is clear from the tone of this man, the executioner’s words are not to demonstrate forgiveness in any element, because of the condemned man’s lack of repentance and remorse.

The condemned will then urge the executioners to make sure they fry him above and beyond a crisp for the world to then mistake his spirit for another saviour yet to come. And as soon as he goes up in a cloud of smoke he expects his legend to be born.

‘Make me a martyr’ the egregious man will yell; his final yell before the big fry up. ‘And then you, when you examine your dark consciences, will look at me cooking in the Frying Pan, and you will find hope, because you will need me to stop you, you who are not all that bad, from being really bad like me. And my best greetings will be for you when I return”. The executioners hear these words and nod, and proceed to ready the condemned man for the Frying Pan.

They will lay him down on the coffee table and strip him of his clothes. They will anoint his naked body with koala urine and blow bong smoke over him. This is to help the condemned man deal with the shock of the fry. The celebrant searches for the secret door that leads into the chamber of the Electric Frying Pan. On the left wall is a large door knob and above it the words “pull to open”. This the celebrant does and the secret door opens.

In the chamber stands the Electric Frying Pan. The condemned man will be brought in and placed in the star shaped Frying Pan which has been tailor made to fit his exact measurements by a mechanical engineer who is also a tailor. The man will be placed in the Frying Pan face down in a final display of their contempt.

In silence and in a group hug the executioners will reflect on their own lives comparing them to this man. One of the executioners will soon be a father. Although wanting to be a great role model, not all that he will offer to his new child will be adequate; there is so little of himself in the other, experienced executioners. The executioners will then hug each other tighter. This is to show they are bonded humans. Meanwhile in silence the condemned man remains face down and outstretched in the Frying Pan.

The celebrant will take a position beside the power lever. Rigid and erect the celebrant will grab the lever and slowly push it up while remaining motionless until the phrase “it’s a scorcher at one million” is said by the three other executioners who will stand geometrically around the Frying Pan while looking up at the chamber’s ceiling at the voltage count. All will be wearing hospital masks.

There is a crack in the ceiling for the condemned man’s spirit to escape through the building’s roof work and into the atmosphere. After the fry up cleaners will enter the chamber and wipe down the Frying Pan’s Teflon surface with cloth and soap. There will be no residue but the Frying Pan must be symbolically cleaned when the condemned man returns, as all before him have.

 

 

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