INTO THE EYE OF JESUS – A GAME OF THRONES LIE
GREETINGS ONCE AGAIN DEAR TRAVELLERS OF THE VORTEX, MY SCRUBIOUS FRIENDS
WE COME HERE BRINGING A SPACE GIFT, A STORY FROM ANOTHER WORLD
A WORLD OF FUCKING LIES AND TOTAL SHIT
WE'RE FUCKING LATE FOR CHRISTMAS, BY A WHOLE MONTH REALLY, AND YET HERE WE ARE WRITING THIS FESTIVE STORY
BE SURE TO RE-READ IT WHEN CHRISTMAS COMES BACK AROUND, BECAUSE YOU MIGHT LEARN A FEW HIDDEN SECRETS *WINKY FACE*
SO, ANYWAY… WHAT'S HANGIN', READER? YOU BEEN GOOD?
WE WRITE THIS FOR YOU FAM
ALTHOUGH TECHNICALLY, AND OFFICIALLY, THIS STORY IS DEDICATED TO ONE LITTLE DOG CALLED GABE, WHO BRIGHTENED THE LIVES OF ME AND ALSO OLLIE I GUESS
AIGHT LET'S DO THIS SHIT
Chapter 1: A Horrible Child Meets the Messiah
Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house, not a creature is stirring, not even a tiger. Theon Greyjoy, local cunt, age twelve, doesn't believe in Christmas. Because he's like a cunt or something. I mean, not believing in Christmas is kind of ridiculous on account of there being evidence for it everywhere, because it does actually exist. It's not like aliens or something, it actually exists. Everyone knows it exists, there's snow and tinsel and wreaths and shit everywhere. But alas, evidence was proving insufficient for Theon; what an absolute contrarian. I fucking hate twelve year olds. He's probably just being a petulant fucking child for no reason. Or maybe it has something to do with the fact that he was basically kidnapped by a strange man and forced to live in a shitty winter land, forced to celebrate it every fucking day of the year, and so he's basically chosen to vehemently deny its existence so as to shy away from these dark memories. Thank fuck he was able to run away to the quaint Victorian London town known to the locals as Mucky Street, where Christmas only returned like one day a year. And when Christmas does make a completely unprecedented and unwanted return in his life, he is not going to greet it with open arms, oh no! So, off Theon went, in search of Christmas.
AND BOY DID HE FIND A CHRISTMAS. As he was walking down the grimy streets, he could notice a distinct lack of people. As he was wondering where all the local scrotes had buggered off to, he could hear the faint sound of carol singers far off in the distance. Christmas lights tinkled overhead, and boy were they trying to be especially festive for little ole Theon. Theon noted that this was pretty Christmas-y, but he was not altogether convinced by the ruse. How did he know that the universe wasn't just miraculously reforming itself to try and trick him, conjuring these twinkling lights to mesmerise him, catch him unawares, and then bugger him senseless with Christmas cheer? He shivered at the thought, and perhaps his shivering was exacerbated further by the wintery weather, the gusty winds brushing against his cheek like the cock of a cheeky poltergeist.
And so he walked on further. He saw a snowman with big snow wellington boots, stomping around in a matter resembling a cantankerous middle-aged man who has just accidentally smacked his exposed toes against a mantelpiece or something. Dunno how he would be able to smack his foot against a mantelpiece, maybe he was practising some graceful ballet, as middle aged men are prone to do. Theon saw this snowman, and yet was not convinced that this was a sign of Christmas magic in the air. Snowmen did this kind of shit all the time, on account of the undeniable fact that they were motivated entirely by vitriol. Short-tempered snow shites, the lot of them. Theon continued walking through the cobblestone streets, and his perceptive twelve year old eyes spotted other signs of Christmas. He saw a box of Celebrations, and some of those biscuits that only come out at Christmas, and a Lynx Africa body spray set. But, against all sense, Theon ignored these signs, and contrived asinine reasons as to how what was happening right now was not Christmas.
However, what Theon saw next could not be denied as evidence of Christmas. Two adults, walking towards him. Between them, a small baby, each of the adults holding one of the baby's hands. The baby was floating two inches off the ground, and was wearing a flowing robe and was sporting a beard. Holy shit, thought Theon. Although maybe he didn't say that, because he's like twelve. What kind of swear words do twelve year olds say? 'Flange?' 'Fussock?' 'Ape?'
Is that who I think it is? thought Theon. It wasn't. Theon thought it was his friend, little Alfie, who was sporting a beard at the age of nine. But no, it wasn't little Alfie… it was Little Jesus! And the people on either side of him were Mary and Joseph, in case you couldn't guess that. In fact, this Jesus had a hyper-realistic face, even though he had the body of a baby. Like you know those still shots in Spongebob Squarepants? That's what he looks like.
The three strangers sauntered up to Theon, and came to a stop in front of him. It was a tense moment. The wind blew around them. Jesus looked at Theon with ageless eyes.
When he spoke, it was with the voice of Ringo Star, and it was out of sync with his lip movements. 'You are frail. I forbid you go outside.' And then the noise started, from all around him. It sounded like a thousand shrieking steam trains blowing their fucking hooty harmonica whistles. Jesus' eyes enlarged, spread out over his face like an oil spill, the pupils fusing together like the opposite of what bacteria does when it splits into two, and then began to rapidly enlarge until Jesus' entire face was one giant eye with a pupil black as sin.
Theon was mildly perturbed by this. He was more perturbed when he saw that his body was disintegrating, his arms and legs turning into dice, handfuls and handfuls of porcelain dice that spiralled in the air and lazily drifted and then were suddenly spiralling, caught in the vortex pull of Jesus' judging eye. The surface of the pupil barely rippled as the dice pieces of Theon's body tinkle-tankled into that gaping void. Theon didn't even have time to make some sort of comment about how even this was not conclusive evidence of Christmas existing (in fact he tried to, but upon opening his mouth the only thing he found himself saying was 'resonate with me', which is not what he intended to say at all), his mind had vanished and he wasn't even aware of his brain pieces, encased in blocks of dice, being sucked into the Jesus eye. And then there was no more Theon.
There was nothing, for a time.
But then there was Theon. When he awoke, he was no longer in the quaint, if currently tarnished by the spirit of Christmas, town he called Mucky Street. Instead, he was standing atop an endless ocean of rippling black. He looked into the sky, pale pink and devoid of clouds, and saw five moons, like the watchful eyes of gods. Four were black like obsidian, and one, the dominant moon, suspended in the sky higher than the rest, was as crimson as the blood of a pon-pon bird (yes, very delicate white creature). Theon was rather vexed by these current circumstances. He looked around, gawping at this hellish landscape he found himself in, and at least could take solace in knowing that at least this purgatory was free of all signs of Christmas.
Silhouetted against the light emanating from the crimson moon (yes this moon is a light source, please fuck off), there appeared three figures. At first svelte and half-formed, with slender limbs and malformed shapes, but as they drifted down to apparently greet Theon, their features became more clearly defined. They settled down atop the surface of the water, their landings barely making a ripple on the water. They all looked rogueish and handsome, wearing tunics and holding bows and arrows. They looked familiar, yet distant.
Suddenly, the water below them began to bubble, and the man in the middle said, 'Well, that's sure to affect the local fishing industry!' They all laughed amongst themselves. From the bubbling water arose a figure, ten foot tall and covered in lumpy tumour type things. But his face was recognisable once more as a hyper-realistic Jesus, albeit in the form of some sort of monstrous troll. Slick slime-like water ran off of his icky robe and surprisingly well-kept beard. He looked at a spellbound Theon with those Jesus eyes once more.
His voice was no longer that of Ringo, but was an orotund thunder. 'Come one step closer and I'll shoot.' He was holding a glock. Theon was confused, but took a step back regardless. Jesus seemed pleased with this. He pulled out a map from his robe pocket, and immediately scrunched it up, letting it turn into a dove and fly away. This was getting a bit too surreal for Theon!
'This is your life,' rumbled Jesus, gesturing to the fluttering bird. 'Once bound to a journey, a distinct life course, you are now a free spirit, flying high through the colours of the cosmos. This is my gift to you. You must use it to discover the truths of Christmas, for then you will see.'
Theon was a twelve year old, and therefore fucking annoying, and so responded with petulant whining. 'But how can I understand the truths of Christmas when Christmas doesn't exist?!'
Now Reader, you might be thinking to yourself, how could Jesus respond to a conversationalist this unrelenting in its obstinacy to see the truth? By telling him to fuck off. As he said this, three portals opened up behind him, shimmering hoops in the air. 'You will use your liberty to traverse the astral realms of the cosmos and learn the eldritch secrets of this winter solstice. You will do this, lest you become lost in the tinsels of time.'
He turned around to look at the three archer gents who had just kind of been standing around in awe of Jesus' ogre majesty. 'However, you are unworthy to travel this dream quest alone. Because you're like twelve. You shall be accompanied on your travels by one of the Three Robins.' The Three Robins all 'yar-har!'-ed and raised their bows into the air. Jesus came up to Theon, so close that Theon could smell the stanky brine smell that clung to Jesus. 'Go forth, Mesozoic Creature.'
'That's not my name.'
'It is your moniker.'
'No I don't want it.'
'Fuck off. Go figure out the secrets of the universe, Mr Mesozoic.'
Before he could respond with an appropriate complaint, Theon was suddenly being swallowed by the sludge beneath his feet, felt the amoeba monsters of the abyss suckle at his flesh. Theon wondered briefly why Jesus had gone to the trouble of conjuring those fancy portals if he was going to just be engulfed by the ground beneath him, but paid it little heed because he was too busy being scared of death by drowning. He was briefly aware of one of the Three Robins shouting out, 'I shall be with you shortly! Just make sure to watch out for jaguars falling out of trees!' The Three Robins laughed and 'yar-har!'-ed at that. And then Theon was gone once more. Perhaps he would emerge in a place less surreal.
Theon- sorry, Mr Mesozoic, woke up in a spaceship. He was all like, 'Oh my days! What's going on here?' Then he looked out the window and saw space outside, and then he knew. 'Oh my days!' he reiterated. 'B-but, spaceships aren't real! I don't believe in them!'
'You better believe in spaceships… you're in one!' commented a passing Pirates of the Caribbean enthusiast. This was the one joke I had for this story. This entire story was written because I wanted an excuse to use this joke. And in the overall context of the story, it makes no fucking sense.
So, Mr Mesozoic sits upright, taking in the futuristic white space walls and science space crates with glowing green lights on them to signify that they're from the future. Or at least from another planet a certain number of light years away that is more scientifically and technologically advanced than Westeros; like fucking hell dude, you think that Jesus could send Mr Mesozoic into the future? Fuck off, no one could do that. It'd be impossible. Yes we're equating 'technologically advanced' to 'has glowing green lights on it'.
Then Mr Mesozoic sees the crew, just kind of like chilling around the captain's chair, taking in the expansive view of space. Now let's go for a brief rundown of the crew. One of them was a capuchin monkey wearing an exciting hat, who was eating out of a jar of Nutella with no regard to how such behaviours could be detrimental to his health. One of them was a man with a pineapple for a head (don't ask him about it) and a custom-made pastel pink suit (to draw attention away from his pineapple head). One was an imposing gent seemingly entirely made out of a light pink metal, and Mr Mesozoic would soon realise that this is because he can transform into a motorcycle, but does so infrequently. One was a thing from space that lived in a bin; we won't discuss him. And one was a woman, aged around fifty-something, who was wearing a t-shirt that said, 'Donnie Darko doesn't make sense'. And then the captain chair spun around, and lo and behold was one of the Three Robins, having adapted his get-up to look sufficiently space-y. This Robin was played by Brian Bedford. Brian Bedford was actually originally the voice of the animated Robin Hood in the Disney film, but he was a human here, not some sort of odd anthropomorphic fox. That would make this seem like some sort of Starfox ripoff, and we're above that. He's a foxy man at heart, if that means anything.
The monkey, whose name is Milkshake, briefly stopped eating its Nutella to tap the captain on the shoulder with an icky monkey hand. 'Captain!' hooted the monkey. 'I swear to you, this vessel is cursed! Never before in all my space explorative days have I ever seen such bad luck in one voyage! Cursed, I say!'
The captain turns around, looking at his crew. He raises his bow, and with a 'yar-har!' he said, 'The only curse I've ever experienced is my life-changing childhood obesity!' And the whole crew laughed heartily, all fear about the future of their voyage totally forgotten. Mr Mesozoic was scared, because he's twelve and a pussy and also fuck that guy.
NEXT TIME: SPACE MISSION! ALSO THE RETURN OF OMAC!
YEAH WE'VE DECIDED THAT WE'RE GONNA END EVERY CHAPTER WITH A STOLEN 'NEXT TIME' TAGLINE FROM A SILVER AGE COMIC BOOK
YOU CAN'T STOP US
CHEERS FOR READING, WE HOPE YOU ENJOYED; I MEAN I KNOW YOU DIDN'T, BUT I HOPE YOU DID
SEE YA LATER, PUNKY FRIEND
FUCK
