answered.
“The fuck it isn’t! We’re all part of the program,” screamed the
MLF member, leveling a gun at Gautama. “Now answer the fucking
question Buddha boy! If you’re human like he says, then I should be
able to waste you like anybody else!”
Suddenly the clacking sound of fifty machine guns taking aim
echoed throughout the studio as the entire MLF trained their sights
on the peaceful figure of the Buddha, a symbol long associated with
serenity and compassion.
“I repeat,” screamed the frustrated young New-Age mercenary,
“What is the fucking meaning of life?”
Gautama sighed heavily. This group was painfully unaware of the
forces they were dealing with. But before he could act, a disturbance
on stage drew everyone’s attention.
“Hey, Where’s the machine?” Cried one of the MLF members,
“Where did it go?” The unconscious Vlad no longer held the
Epiphany Machine. One of them turned to face the back of the room.
“You!” he screamed, pointing towards Harvey, “You have it!”
The mob reversed directions, spilling off the stage and charging
up the aisle towards Don Wong, Milo, and Harvey.
“Harvey!” cried Don Wong, “Give ‘em the machine!”
Harvey stood motionless. Don Wong tried to wrench the box
from his thick fingers, but they may as well have been petrified.
“Dammit Harvey! We’re gonna die here!” yelled Milo, cringing as
the MLF members were almost upon them.
Harvey hurled the box at the mob. There was a thundering
sound, and then everything went pitch black.
In contrast with the climaxes in most religious epics, the heroes
were saved not by enlightenment, but by endarkenment. Victoria had
discovered a fuse box, and flipped the switches just in the nick of
time.
“The show must go off,” she said as they fled out into the
enormous studio parking lot.
CHAPTER 41
The workmen, exhausted from the blazing Egyptian heat, sat resting
in the cool shade of the jujube trees, drinking water and singing
songs about gods and women. Soon they would be finished building
H O L Y S H I T !
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