The Lord High Shitster

The Lord High Shitster was making one of his interminable pronouncements and we all had to listen to the superb profundity of his marvellous words. His marvellous Shitster words, should I say. Could I say? All Hail the Lord High Shitster, we said, All Hail the Grand Shitster. The effluence of his words never fails to delight and amaze us. Speak to us Great Shitster we say, bestow your wonderful wisdom upon us for your crap is inexhaustible. And truly his shit is inexhaustible – it flows in rivers from his wide-open mouth, it flows freely down the middle of the street and none can deny it. The unholy stink of it would bring tears to your eyes so it would – the bile would rise in your throat. The stench would blast your hat right off your head. We’ve all known some version of the Lord High Shitser during our lives haven’t we? Perhaps he was your headmaster, or perhaps he’s the President or Prime Minister. Perhaps he’s an ebullient chat-show host or the DJ on the radio. I’ll wager we have all come across the Grand Shitster more than once in our time. Too right we have. I know I have many to stories to tell on that subject. Even sitting here as I am in the comfort of my own bedroom the memories come back to me thick and fast. I can barely cope with them. I remember when I was no more than little sprat, no bigger than your little finger. Half the size of your little finger in fact. And now look at me – big old fish that I am! I’d swallow up the whole of you for breakfast, never mind just your little finger. I’d swallow you whole and still be hungry. Back then when I was no more than a wee spratling, I would have been no more than half the size of your little fingernail and as timid as anything. If you had said “Boo!” to me I would have jumped clear out of the water. I would have jumped right up into the air, quivering with fear from head to tail. Poor timid little thing that I was! I lived in a state of constant fear back then. Fear was my constant companion. If you said “Boo!” to me now I’d bite your head clean off, so I would. I’d bite it off in a flash –you’d never even see it go. It would be there one second and gone the next. I am no scared little sprat now you see. Far from it – I am a fifty ton Behemoth now. If you saw me you’d piss yourself on the spot, so you would. You’d be having nightmares for a month of Fridays.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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