bathe

Picasso didn't know what to do. i saw the worried look in his face and continued my blight toward him. "there is nothing to drink you fat frolicking boom base. i have no need to feed you either lest you do as i say. you're fat enough to live forever on what you have already consumed." i loathed men who sit about painting and drawing while there is necessary work to be doing.

"now hear. we are in the desert and the gods have long forsaken here. so too have the people here forsaken such gods as them. i am the new king about this joint and we are going to bring some rain. like i said, i am weak so i need more bodies. now that i have awakened you here, i will call upon Leonardo da Vinci and next monet. i do not particularly care for either of you but you will not simply flick your wrists across a bit of cloth and consider your work complete. as i say, do as told and your life will be worthy. fail to adhere and you will become ash for all the rest of time." the fat about him seemed to shudder in the realization that i were not there in jest.

"i am holding on to your memories of dying and they too shall be as a reward for good behavior unto you." i looked away from him just that moment, only to find an oasis brewing in the for of him. the former gods did not fail me when they made their recommendation. he is worthy. "now, whatt i want from you is just to stand around , or ait around, and look as though the whole universe relies heavily upon what you are now doing. which should be no big muff for a fattie like yourself." i went off just then to imagine the perfect distance at which to reimagine da Vinci and monet. 🤑