Dolf woke up on a bed of greek java. He had no idea that Jesus was to walk among his people in three shakes of a Clidesdale's inch. But that was his loss. He got up and put on a perogie, a pair of gymnasiums and a matching cow.
"Looks spiffy." he vomited, looking at his reflection in the large onyx that adorned his humble tin. "But I'm missing something." he continued as he swung his glands at something and missed.
"Ah," he Ah'ed as he picked up his best pair of buttocks and adorned them with the greatest of pride. Mere seconds later he stepped out of what had now inexplicably become a three bedroom cheeze wedge and out into a large vat of boiling phlegm. It was a touch on the too-warm-to-digest side for his liking, but it was something he could live with as long as he had his vas deferens to compensate. All in all it was a pleasent day. The sun was blackened, the sky was a rather pretty shade of wood and the clouds frolicked by not entirely unlike that of an African block of pumice manufactured in Malaysia and sold to greek merchants off the Bay of Fundi to unwary sightseers heady for a good bargain such as this. To some this was a day of rejoicing; a day to puncture one's own gonads in tribute to the God in one's bowl of "Wheaties". A day to swallow whole the fruit of one's loins and spit them out with ungodly speed and accuracy at the first passers by. To others it was simply Wednesday. Just plain old Wednesday. To Dolf, it was Friday, but then every day was Friday to Dolf. His Calendar was missing every weekday except Friday, so he lived in the perpetual misconception that every day was Friday. This could be construed as good or bad, depending on if one was employed or not, for every day would, concievably, be payday. Or, perhaps, it might just be a day to consume great quantites of Fish - particularily, Kipper. Nevertheless, it was still, inexhorably, Wednesday. (That's Friday to Dolf, But then everyday is Friday to Dolf)
He waddled down the street with uncanny defiance, sneering at everyone he met, except dogs. Those he bit. And cats. Those he swallowed whole. And small children. Those he kissed with unending false care. He used his other face for that.
Dolf, you see, was the Mayor. Technically this meant nothing, but some insisted on making a big to-do about it. Mainly, they told him what to do pretty much all of the time. "Dolf, stop eating my cats.", "Dolf, stop sneering at me.", "Dolf, fuck off.". Dolf ignored all of it and continued on waddling.
He hadn't managed to waddle more than twelve feet before he came across a cat. He promptly snatched it up and swallowed it hole, letting out a tremendous belch shortly afterwards.
He continued waddling.
Exactly three point one-four feet later he happened upon a stray spleen. To him this was an oddity in this town. He had seen many various people, places and body parts before, but never a spleen.
"You new to this town?"
The spleen ignored him.
"I SAID are you NEW to this town?"
The spleen continued to ignore him.
"I'm talking to YOU, ASSHOLE!"
The spleen persisted in its ignorance. It just lay there, stasis and reeking ever so delicately.
"Fuck." Dolf exclaimed as he stomped solidly on the spleen.
Suddenly, and without and explaination, everything turned yellow. The sky, the clouds, the sun, everything. In fact, everything was such the shade of yellow as to blend in with everything else. It now appeared as if he were standing in one extremely large and ludicrous yellow void with absolutely nothing in sight. Everything was just yellow. All of it. A yellow hell, as it seemed. Dolf was pleasently surprised and vaguely disgusted all at once. He didn't know what to make of this. Even his thoughts were yellow. Upon closer inspection, he soon discovered that he, too, was yellow. Or at least he would have noticed this could he have seen himself. He, too, blended in with everything.
"Wow," he thought with mixed pride, "A social chameleon." But then everyone- and indeed everything was now very distinctly chameleon-like. He confirmed this by walking in a straight line and bumping into Mrs. Green - or he would have noticed that it was Mrs. Green - who now appeared to be Mrs. Yellow - had he been able to see who it was that be bumped into.
"Watch it, bone-head." said Mrs. Green who now appeared to be Mrs. Yellow.
"Sorry - er - I mean, fuck off." he exclaimed, understandably confused by his new surroundings. He was finding it increasingly difficult to find the right words to spew forth amid all his yellow-tainted thoughts. "Have you, er, noticed that everything has suddenly gone yellow?"
"No, now fuck off and get out of my way."
Dolf moved out of her way - into a brick wall - a yellow brick wall, which he distinctly overlooked as being in his immediate path. But then he couldn't have seen it had he wanted to in the first place. It was yellow. Everything was. His tollerance for the colour yellow was increasingly falling to the point where it was almost sickening. 'Yellow,' he thought to himself, 'is the colour of piss. It's the colour of Dog piss. I hate dogs. Dogs piss. Yellow.' he continued.
His yellow train of thought was interupted by a loud yellow bang that came from a short distance ahead of him. It sounded like a gunshot, or perhaps a car backfiring. Or maybe a large and prehaps extremely foul and painful fart, one that some poor individual had been saving for weeks and eventually exploded from the sheer pressure upon his sphinchter. Or perhaps -- no. That was silly.
There were sirens. At first from a distance and eventually getting closer. Yellow sirens, he suspected. Eventually they became deafeningly loud and piercing until they eventually stopped, assumedly very close by as he could hear them as though they were right next to him.
He felt a tug at his arm. Actually, it felt as though his arm was being carried away. Then his leg. Then another leg. Then his groin - this he noted was a rather sensitive area. In fact, painful would have been a better word for it as it was as though he was being grabbed firmly by the bullocks. Then he distinctly felt his head being carried away. He looked around but, of course, everything was yellow. Even his groin. At length, he pieced things together, as it were, for it was he, and not some poor soul whose refusal to let go a resounding fart, who had exploded, and it was his parts which were being carried into a waiting ambulance - a yellow ambulance. He noted this because he had never seen a yellow ambulance before. But then he couldn't see this one, either. He could only assume it was there, and that it was yellow. Everything else was yellow so it seemed natural to come to the conclusion that this one was as well. As he was carried into the back of the waiting ambulance he heard the driver - the yellow driver - talking on his CB radio - a yellow CB radio.
"Cause of explosion?" came a crackly, broken voice from the radio.
"Extremely high levels of exposure to the colour yellow." said the driver.
"Possible explaination to this yellow leakage?"
"We have no leads yet, but it is concievable that the victim either has not urinated within the past three weeks, or he stepped on a spleen. We have no proof yet."
Then another voice, this one from outside the ambulance and several meters away: "I've found something! There's a crushed spleen lying on the side- walk about fifteen meters from here."
The ambulance members - the yellow ones - left immediately to investigate this. His head rolled to the ambulance floor with a resounding thud.
"Ow." he remarked, not much liking the feeling it gave him.
"Ow." he remarked again, suddenly realising for the first time that his head had rolled to the floor in the first place because it was no longer attached to the rest of his body.
"Ow." he remarked a third time, now fully grasping the situation of what had happened. He would have, at this point, threw up, but his head was now completely separate from his own body, so at this point it was pointless to try and heave something up.
"Ow." he remarked for the fourth and final time, now finally realising that he was dead.
At length, the meaning of life after death became evident and plentifully clear to him. He now realised, finally, what it was all about. What all this life business was all about. And as one last thought, he came to a final and extremely shocking revelation.
Hell, despite all testimonials about fire and brimstone and eternal damnation, is yellow.
Fin.