the book of kat

which is more or less the scripture of the kat
part XXI
now came to pass the days when the doll was more difficult than usual and could even pass as the new shorthand for 'drug-addled vagabond.' she was feral, sharp-tongued and always on edge. no, she wasn't on edge, she was over the edge. the doll, despite what her wise lion had forewarned, had been up and out smoking foilies with the one person you're not supposed to do foilies with. she had blackened fingertips, the indelible ink of a deadbeat. she was in the mindset of a ____________ and you cannot simply turn that off like tap. beseeched by the sugary sweet breeze, she ______-ed, having been up all night, after creeping around primitive arcadian glades and all things lovely. he led her, by hand and foot, then and there, to the glasshouse from which none who enters ever returns, down the road from which there is no coming back. and she wallowed, upon hazy realization, as she was underneath a veil of disco dust, where she stood, 'i'm hurt.'
and then the parasitic breeze shook his skull and wept, 'no, you're not, i'm hurt more.' sensing the doll was deigning to bite her tongue, the greay lion of skid row stepped forth and dropped a bushel of curses upon him. 'o ill-divining breeze of the hills, who is vicious and self-loathing, keep your distance. you have angered the doll, and in turn, angered the skies. for, your treason against the doll is enough to send you to the ninth circle of hell. if you do not heed my warning and continue playing the doll as if she were a game of cards, as if she doesn't see through us all, surely you will perish.'
cool breeze, having not really thrown caution to any cautionings in the past, listened very carefully and did not look amused. this is probably because he is cancerous. what he did not understand, though, is the doll's sweethearted nature. and, finally, after enough time had passed, he joined the doll's side. as she was seated on her thrown of ______________, lion on her left, breeze on her right; the shadows spoke, whispering something along the lines of, 'do not fret, good doll, for i will look after you and call you baby.' after all, there were days and nights to be enjoyed as never before.
looking to her disciples, she purred, 'après nous, le deluge.'



*after us, the flood.