Licking Paedophilia From The Mind Of An Irish Priest.


9/15/2013 The What-if writing challenge for this week was:

What if you let your dark side take over?

Another what-if challenge that went very dark on me. Next week, the jokes! Hopefully.

This isn’t as frightening as the title may suggest.


Licking Paedophilia from the mind of an Irish Priest.

The devil took my soul and rammed it into his left trouser pocket. It was the same shape and size as that of a plastic CD cover, strangely enough. Big pockets alright. He then jingle-jangled it in situ for a few seconds, before withdrawing his big lump of a hand and zipping it up beyond further reach.

‘A gun,’ I said.

‘Fine, but I’ve seen mass murder before many times. You’ll really have to do better than that to impress me Tweak Tweak. If you want your soul back this side of Christmas like.’

I never had the balls before to rob from a rich person’s house, but now I could do anything I wanted, I had the devil’s imprimatur. I walked straight into Lidia Roseprick, the schoolteacher’s house, and smashed open a sealed box in her living room and had me some sort of  a pistol in my hand, fully loaded, seconds later.

I swivelled towards him and spat –

‘A mind-licking dog called Lenny.’

‘Sounds interesting, Tweak Tweak. Now you’re talking. I can make that.’

‘You don’t have to. My dog Lenny is in the other room. All you have to do is give him a tongue that can lick a person’s mind right out of their head. ‘

‘Very interesting indeed Tweak Tweak. I don’t know where you’re going with this, but I like it already.  Okay. That’s no problem. A mind-licking dog. Voila!’

‘Oh yeah, Devil, that gun, can you make it so it’s everlasting , like you don’t have to re-load?’

‘I told you Tweak Tweak, mere mass murder is blase.  It doesn’t tickle me in any w-‘

‘Will you do it?’

‘Yes. Yes. Yes. Go on then.’

The devil is an arse, everyone knows that, if he really exists that is, and wasn’t just mere mind games in the night on the part of all my inside anxieties.  When the devil gives you free reign to do something shocking, there’s just no hesitating in it at all. Only fools or the greedy need time for thought in this instance and you should be ashamed of your filthy self if you do count to three and give yourself this tick-tocking mind-space and time. In my book anyway.

I’m not terribly post-modern or post-structuralist. But I am willing to learn. For now history is still my reality. Despite Baudrillard. The Gulf War actually happened in my world. My own personal metaphoric Gulf War. An entire nation’s Gulf War; Ireland’s. Each Irish generation has suffered under its yoke for years from the 1950s, before that even, up to the noughties; no gaps. A holocaust some say.

Now it was time to blast these experiences from reality and history once and for all, the devil watching me closely, into meaningless textuality.  What could be more righteous than that Sir? I ask you humbly Madam?

I marched up the road and smashed into Father Clump’s house and put the gun to his head. Straight off. Of course, he recognized me instantly from all those years ago, sensed what was happening to him, catching up with him, like acid in his face.

I now had the priest up against one of his living room walls, spreadeagled and with my gun pressing harder and harder into his temples, you’ll be pleased to know. The devil stood at the open front door, with the broad daylight behind him in his background, stroking his beard pensively, licking his lips.

I knew  my plan was rolling down Janey Macken Street Hill as if it had grease on the soles of it’s shoes. So far, so good.

I screamed and simultaneously pressed the  gun even harder into his temples –

‘Lick his mind out Lenny – right fucking now!’

Lenny rammed his tongue up the priest’s nostrils and it landed in his mind. Lenny’s tongue grabbed paedophilia like a black noose around the its neck.

His tongue tightened its grip and yanked paedophilia out into the living room which made the devil retch violently almost immediately.

‘My God, Tweak Tweak, something as dark as that out in the open air catching rays. Well done. But I’ve had lunch with Hitler, Stalin, Thatcher for God’s sake.  Tell me, do you really want your soul back? You aren’t really trying, my son.’

I lost control of all my senses for about twenty seconds just then, with the smell of this paedophilia standing before me, akimbo, head bowed. However, I picked up the gun in time and shot it once, twice, three times, until it didn’t move anymore. It just lay there on the priest’s cheap carpet in pieces.

I walked over to the priest and said –

‘I forgive you. ‘

Then I walked out the door straight past the devil heading for priest number two on my list. I had to kill all the paedophilia in the country. You don’t get a chance to do something like this too often in life, to help humanity. I had to while I had the strength.

‘What about your soul Tweak Tweak? I’ve still got it, remember?’

‘Keep it man. What use is a soul to me today?  After what I’ve seen. What use at all?’

‘It’s your loss so. See you at midnight for your death.’

He took my soul out of his pocket and started to examine it –

‘Hey, this really is a CD. Your soul is a CD! Mighty Love by Damien Dempsey, singer-songwriter. What’s all this about then Tweak Tweak?’

‘If I want my soul back all I have to do is listen to that CD . That’s all. Keep it. It’s yours.’

‘But I’ve got it, Tweak Tweak.’

‘I know. And it’s available in all the shops. I can buy it anytime I want. I won’t see you at midnight at all. I’m not dying tonight by a long stretch of the legs.  Look at my record and book collection for God’s sake. How could you have been so stupid?’

And the devil did look.

‘William Blake, Bach and The Smiths too! Bloody hell. Too much soul. Too bloody much. I’ve seen enough here.’

It took me a while, but when I was finished, Ireland lived happily ever after without history or reality to upset it any longer.

If you cock both your ears right now you can hear all the generations, past and present, cheering Lenny and myself  on indefinitely, for changing the world with just a long mind-licking tongue and a gun.

However, the real thanks should go to the devil actually. If you can handle that truth, that is.


10 thoughts on “Licking Paedophilia From The Mind Of An Irish Priest.

    1. Thanks oh indecisive one! Much appreciated. Janey Macken Street! – someone who understands! Much appreciation going your way for reading it! Am I allowed call you an eejit? – or is that just me being the eejit this time? I’ve discombobulated meself again…ouch..

  1. Wow. Kind of dark as you say but also a little fun. Really enjoyed your take on the challenge. I’m going to try to keep the devil out of next weeks so maybe their will be some laughs/jokes

    1. Phew! Thanks for that. I was a bit worried posting that one, I can tell you. And yeah, as you may see from my other posts, there’s usually more humour, so keep posted! P.S. Thanks again for the creative prompts for your good self! Keep up the good work!

    1. That’s very kind of you. Much appreciated. Read your recent post regarding bloggers comments and I’m in agreement with you on this. I’m very much interested to see what develops out of this. Just what I was looking for, actually. Thanks once again.

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