[HEADLINES DECLARE: "PANIC FROM BROADWAY TO BOMBAY: ART KILLS NEW YORK CITY!":]
August 15, 2003, 23:11

{dawn}
[CLASSIFIED:]
The red sun rises and the cats from the Japanese flag bust through the double doors.
“Paint those cats black” orders the head strangler, he’s throwing out some lacey eveningwear.
The Linguist, who has always been the quiet and shy type, decides this is his chance to prove he’s a man:
No democrat could argue.
He is an army on a string, a wide-mouthed Gastro-intestinal timebomb, removed and elongated with the removed tail of large flatfish.
(The cats from the Japanese flag are biting at their heels)
(The optical pyramids are unloaded and spark with the morning dew)
(The sunrise turns into live network terminals signaling New York to disband like spores on a highrise)
(The cats from the Japanese flag, expand and smoke cigars made from hollowed out calcified tumors)
(The blow the smoke into baby carriages)
(a large mortar explosive is lit and is tossed into the bathroom of the Sistine chapel of love) 
Ride that summer morning; for a cavity is a hole
The black and white celluloid passengers sweat with progress
(The bullet train is derailed by a mortar blast)
KARMA OFFICER: “Keeping pulsating with the veins of virgins in waiting.”

The Invisible maroon jigsaw junction. 
Only the lab rats survive. 

{midday}
Ah, I shall miss these days of acrylic ecstacy, up near the ambience of my own Alamo. Now, my very beginning has been immortalized in silk.
The gentle people of The First have always treated me with a kind remorse, even in my days of sharp aesthetic and no point. The brilliance they allowed will be rewarded in a golden graduatory egg. Let there be lobsters: Let there be education: Let Vienna become their most celebrated cyst!

A distinct deviation, I did not give Marie Antoinette an invitation-no, she’s trying to hide her signs of aging behind a mask of red frothing hair. I can clearly see the large metal screws holding her face together. Shotty workmanship.

I am persuaded to inhale the last of agent orange and accompany Antoinette to her burning mini-grand piano. The driver, Charlotte Corday, was mad with rabies and swerved into a Viking funeral procession. She let me talk for several minutes until, at which point, she was so sick of my egotistical ravings, she asked me to leave her mini-grand by elegantly crushing my kneecaps.
ALEX VIENNA: “Until the leaves disband, may your checks out.”
(Corday screeches in epileptic terror code) 

Antoinette, a cunning and deceitful leader thinks she owes the people everything. She seems to know everyone, from anti-Pheramones on the degenerate wagon to the slaves at the #14012760003 Rocket. 
As the sun goes down, the streets of Salvation City are an attractive hot tub for bounty hunter and asthma activity so we decide to order some drinks. 
WAITER: “Hello ms. Antoinette, what will you be having this afternoon?”
MARIE ANTOINETTE: “Ah, yes, hello Smittie, we’ll have the usual. ONLY the usual.”

It was at this point I noticed the unusual infliction our waiter wore: His jaw was hooked together with only the aid of several cross-haired wires. Hideous. While slicing open a giant swordfish, I overheard him explaining that it was an old football injury. No sympathy for the devil.

(The usual): foaming poison hair dye; thick, black consistency.
[TECHNIQUE:]
Meant to penetrate and shut down one’s nervous system via Tonsils.

[CLASSIFIED:]
To prevent this kind of set up, I had my tonsils removed 13 years ago.
“is” “are”
MARIE ANTOINETTE: “Free refills, drink up.” She seemed to be unaffected by the stuff, I was feeling sick off of it’s noxious fumes. 
[CLASSIFIED:]
“never give away; that, which gives you away” 

I paid the bill for $38.09 and headed towards The Paragon.

{sundown}
[CLASSIFIED:]
The paragon runs a two-bit operation of DD 
(disect. Doppleganger.) affiliate application. 
In short, Every waitress is a doppleganger. To assure the business runs like the Memphis bends, The owners of the said organization have paid the right officials and have even reportedly “given away” some original dopplegangers as gifts to their primary investors. (for use as sexual, domestic,etc.)

Marie Antoinette was against the operation but still refused to cooperate by reporting herself to The Karma Police. 
[BULLHORN:]
Everybody hates the Yankees, but they never forget a face. 

Marie Antoinette scowers through the Atlas, explaing how her days will be “solid” and her nights will be “liquids.” I could hardly listen. Several spiders had crawled into my shirt pocket, apparently attracted by the blood soaked eyeball, and were spinning a silk cocoon, using my sparce chest hair as foundation. 
The widows Awaken such ancient pain.

The American Gymnast, was screeching PCP under my eyelids. What did it mean? Median? Mode? The soft lights were sneaking into Marie Antoinette’s toungue and burning the roof of her mouth. She ran off in a fit of despair; looking for some sewer water to quench the smoldering heat in her mouth. 
Life of solitude in the streets of Salvation City meant only one rational assumption: 
New York city is dead. 

{dusk}
As I rationed, by breaking chips off of the sun, I was thinking of an escape.
I had very rare alliances among the degenerate wagon of salvation city scum. Pigs and dogs fought for dominance in front of my eyes. Men and women drank saucers of their own excrement. Muscles strained into refined knots. 

Where is love now?

Asthma Spy: “No salvation, No salvation” 

Suddenly, a barefooted hero arose from the miles of human infection. It was Dr. Than Wood! He had some trouble with human degenerates as well.

DR. THAN WOOD: “I walked all the way from New York, then some gangsters stole my shoes and spit in my mouth.” 

ALEX VIENNA: “The karma police will get even with them, but the future rests on our 
hope.” 
Dr. Than Wood’s colleague, Dan Steakhands, drove us to safety. Along the way, we outran electronic amphetamine bounty hunters screaming: 
“What are you doing in LA?”
An obvious euphemism for regicide with a roman candle to a king’s face. 
When we arrived at the checkpoint, hundreds of Socialists were licking their fingers to pick up the crumbs. 
DR. THAN WOOD: “I hate the Hamptons.”

{twilight}
Dr. Wood gave me some mortar blasts:
“they say this power failure is put out there by the government. ‘they’… the ink. This is the last step in disarming the American people into instrumental slavery. Czech your master": [ARMY=TICKS:] [AIRFORCE=MOSQUITOS:] [NAVY=LEECHES:]
[CLASSIFIED:]
I called Checkpoint Charley at the shark’s womb via [TELEPHONE WIRE:]
“Charley,
New York City is dead. We need to restore the chastity of honor via mortar fire.”
[END MESSAGE:]

The deed is done.

I issue an official statement:

“0, what a revolution! and what a heart must I have, to contemplate, without hesitation, the move to resurrect New York City with an exploding stick of heroic grace! I do, though, regret that it is I who should have lived to see such disasters fallen upon her fair skin. To see the great mistress’ eyes shut is an insult to the fallen nation of cavaliers. New York shall rise with the falling of the wick of chivalry: as this is the age when chivalry is gone; that of gluttons, anti-ego-economists, submission and obedience has succeeded, and the virginity is extinguished forever. Let this be the ennoble end of rational servitude and the rise of an exhalted freedom. Behold, hyper-realism! Behold, The dawn of Vienna!”

[END VIENNAGRAM:]