A man in his fifties lounged on a deck chair, watching his teenage son chat with a couple of girls by the pool.
He stood up and tip-toed over to his son. Before the teen could react, the man hugged him from behind and shoved him into the pool.
The man grinned.
The girls laughed.
The young man resurfaced. “What did you do that for?!”
“You know, son…I once read that there comes a day in a man’s life, when he picks up his kid, puts them down, and never picks them up again. I just didn’t want that day to be today.”
— Bastian Espada
“I might have something that’ll help,” the traveling apothecary said.
He jumped down from the driver’s seat, and signaled to his assistant to retrieve something from one of the chests in the rear.
The assistant produced a small vial and handed it to his master.
The hooded customer grunted in disgust at the black, dense liquid that swirled inside the small glass container.
“This elixir is made with quite a rare mushroom—Algernon’s cap.” The apothecary grinned. “It will give you the intellectual powers you seek.”
The hooded traveler snatched the vial from the apothecary’s hands and tossed him a gold coin. He inspected it closely, then unsheathed his sword and pointed it at the old man. “If this doesn’t work, I will cut you down where you stand.”
The apothecary nodded.
The traveler drank the potion in a single gulp.
A few tense seconds passed. Then, the man clutched his belly, grimaced, turned around, and dashed towards the woods—diarrhea streaming down his pants.
“What a goddamn idiot,” the apothecary said to his assistant. “Let’s get the hell out of here before he comes back.”
— Bastian Espada
“And who’ll buy all the stuff if people aren’t getting paid?”
“The robots can be programmed to consume.”
“So that’s your grand vision, huh? Just robots making things, robots buying things and a few lucky bastards owning the whole damn thing.”
“No, of course not. Robots can be programmed to own as well.”
— Bastian Espada
“That’s always your excuse! You say you’re tired.”
“That’s ‘cause I always am.”
“And not just when it comes to this, you use it for multiple things!”
“Well, that’s ‘cause I’m always tired in multiple ways.”
— Bastian Espada
She’s drinking wine,
He’s guzzling beers,
They’re welcoming New Year’s,
Playing Pokemon with the kids.
— Bastian Espada
“The sun will shine tomorrow, life will yet again be worth living. Please…”
“Oh, I don’t doubt for a second that you’re correct darling. In fact, that’s very much the reason I’m in a hurry to end it all today.”
— Bastian Espada
Under a dark cloudy sky, a woman — dressed in a full chicken costume— places her wedding ring on top of a coffin.
The casket is lowered into the ground.
One last promise, fulfilled.
— Bastian Espada
“During our last session, we talked about how you don’t feel like life is worth living, but you also hate the idea of dying.” Satan grabbed his pink notepad and clicked his pen. “We agreed you’d try to do some physical exercise and meditation. Why don’t tell me how that went?”
“…”
“I see.” Satan placed his notepad back on the table and leaned in. “Let me ask you something, Arthur—when was the last time you were free?”
“…”
— Bastian Espada
“The sun sets, we ride!”
And so they did, for a while, then they stopped because they couldn’t see anything.
— Bastian Espada
“For the twelve days of Christmas my true love sent to me—a bunch of birds. Whole lotta’ em.”
“Really? How’d that turn out?”
“I stepped on toucan shit this morning.”
— Bastian Espada