Liquid Plummer

Extremely Cranky

En route to the unknown I’ve made a pilgrimage to this desert wasteland to pay homage to the living. Dead on arrival I found the herd grazing on the grass on their way to the slaughterhouse. They enter in an orderly manner, single file, politely awaiting their inevitable doom. Once the carcasses are gutted the fat is removed, melted down and used to lubricate the gears of the machine. You can see their ghosts roaming the streets searching in vein for what they’ve lost. If you can ask them who they are they won’t have an answer, at least not one that’s discernible from the usual mundane nonsense that make up their daily topics of discussion. I know, that was my main form of communication before the exorcism.


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