I'm very paranoid about getting marks on my skin or finding cankersores, etc., because I always think they're cancerous. Finding one nearly always has me going to the doctor to have it checked out. I found a weird mark on my head but couldn't see it very well in the mirror, so I went to the doctor and he had a look at it.
Turns out I have the mark of the beast.
Well now! um, this kind of sucks. Aren't I supposed to do something now, then? Like wreak havoc upon the mortal world and corrupt the souls of weak Christians? I'm not sure. Satan didn't choose the most organized person in the world to be his nefarious heir, apparently.
I'm more than a little taken aback by this mark, of course. I never really felt any indication that I was inherently evil, so I'm wondering if there was some kind of mistake. I'm a little bit self-conscious about it, too, because I'd imagine that's kind of a turn off for the ladies. I doubt I'll ever be married. I mean c'mon, who would want to foster the seed of the Antichrist? Also, girls who don't like rough play might not appreciate that whole inhuman-rape-by-a-raging-demon-with-hands-of-ice-and-semen-of-liquid-fire thing.
Sigh I have so many shortcomings.
Plus, how the hell am I supposed to find gainful employment? Most bosses won't even hire a guy with tattoos, let alone a guy who is branded by Lucifer to drag mankind into the fiery pits of Hell. That can't possibly be good for business relations.
So yeah. Being the son of an infernal incubus is kind of inconvenient, as you can plainly see. Dogs howl at my window during the night and I keep getting burned whenever I shake hands with someone wearing a crucifix, and it's getting really annoying how whenever one of my friends beats me at Goldeneye, the floor opens up and casts them into a pit of wailing and torment. I mean I'm kind of a sore loser but I never really mean to get that pissed. Sorry, Andrew.
I'm also pretty nervous about the second coming of Jesus. I dunno if he'll understand that maybe this was all just a big misunderstanding and that I really don't mean to be the downfall of man. It just kinda happened. I don't even know the guy, it's not really fair that he talks so much shit about me behind my back and then starts telling people that he's coming to kick my ass. It's not like I did something weak like key his car or anything, I just have a little mark near my scalp and he treats it like I fucking asked for the job! What a dick.
Fuck it. Jesus is all talk anyway. I'll kick his ass.
But anyway, leave it to the Son of the Adversary to look at the glass as being half empty. On the bright side, I don't have to worry about waiting in long lines anymore.
Plus, I've always really enjoyed the music of bands like Hellhammer and Venom. Maybe my dream will come true and I'll finally be cool enough to chill with Satanic Slaughter, and Chronos will give me an exclusive membership to his aerobics program! How rad! You know, being the Bearer of the Omen isn't so bad; think of all the songs that are about me.
So step back, Jesus. This school has a NEW king. Anyone up for a game of Goldeneye? Anyone? No? OK, then, that's all for now. I's gots some corruptin' to do.