How to Destroy Gretzkies

In our kitchen hangs the swollen crucified corpse of Wayne Gretzky, his bone-less limbs swathed in the coal & ash-colored robes of the L.A Kings. His face so disfigured by a psychedelic-fueled session with a hot-poker that but one eye can be seen.  Recently a owl has taken up resisdence on the cross-beam. Many have pondered the significance of this. Surely some perverse mix of soured nationalism, Catholic schooling, and youthful sadism. The answer is lost in the mists of Whitefish - though rumours persist that a bandage-faced Yoda, himself the victim of similar tortures, may know more of what Gretzky suffered.

Today a dark miracle occurred and a low moan came from the sinster statue, the Great One's jig-saw lips moved in clumsy articulation as a strange evil voice echoed out: "It's really amazing the leadership we have right nowww...." By-standers gawked at the demonic voice issuing from the plastic statue then grabbed their eyes to drown out the litany of obscenities but the butchered face continued, " Harper is one of the greatest prime ministers ever...."

A mephitic smell began to exude from the crucified icon and so we fled to the entrance room, only to hear a croaking voice resounded from the basement stairs, "Right to torture us, you were..... Well, our future sins, you foresaw.. Wise in the ways of the hot poker...." The words were broken and muffled so we cautiously approached the top of the stairs to hear better but only a Stygian silence remained.

A crowd has gathered beneath the icon of the fallen Great One, King of LA, demanding his removal, but some discussion remains of how to safely dispose of such a evil relic. Any suggestions would be welcome.

The first time I read this I couldn't stop laughing. Especially when I read about a bandaged faced Yoda suffering a similar fate. Does that Yoda still exist?

As for the Gretzky relic - I guess we need to purge it. Should we attempt to purify it? More likely maybe we should finish what we started and heat the poker up again.

More hot-poker action is tempting but the toxic fumes are always a drawback, maybe a full-scale bonfire.

Yep - the 'Yoda without a Face' still exists, still mumbling dark prophecies and visions...

Another rainy Hallowe'en night. I took an old wheelbarrow ripped the undercariage off and tossed the metal top over the heart the fire to protect it from the rain. The meager of light of fire was shadowed, rips and rust holes gave glimpes to the infero it now domed. It resembled a giant horse-shoe crab roasting on a cremation mound. The smoke from the fire was a fickle spirt that turned without cease, lashing with coughs and tears anyone who did not flee its embrace.



The metal was soon sizzling in the drizzle. I piled damp logs and hawberry bushes on top and an hour later they were burnt, charred and smoking. The barrow's back was now a  gothic-industrial landscape: burnt metal and black wood wrapped in a barb-wire lattice of hawthorns, dotted with rusty-edged windows into hell for light. We took a small pumpkin-gourd and palced it upon one of the charred-wood hills. A black-hearted poppy with a metal stem soon sprouted from it like a fungi. A strange metal part was fished out of the smoky edges of the fire, it was like a solidified sine wave and had likely a relic of some incinerated chair or couch, it was placed amongst the crowning haw-thorns.  The scence was suitable Stygian. I went inside to fetch Gretzky.

Through the darkness and rain he was carried, crucified and disfigured yet without pathos or sympathy. Once a beloved youthful warrior he had long-since sworn demonic pacts to become a King and spent an adulthood in the ranks of sneering devil-princes who rule our planet. In unholy Circle-jerk of Greatness, the Great One called Bush Jr. "a great leader [...] what he's doing in Iraq is right" and dubbed Harper "one of the greatest prime ministers ever." Thus he lauded war and misery, he championed hate and bombing, while he made a billion dollar by marketing his increasingly botox-filled face.

With great force the cross was driven into a rust hole and Gretzky found himself staring across a industial Hallowe'en hellscape at a strange pumpkin as large as himself. A hadnfull of firework were tossed at his feet. The fearful awe eminating from the scence prompted calles for camera, but the final murder of this fallen devil-king was to occur without memorial, hidden in the dark of the night, at the edge of the forest, obscured by rain and smoke.

The simple crucifix burst into flames and soon Gretzky's white face flowed like wax. Thinking back to that sight I can now hear screaming as both the flame and rain surged higher.  The ground beneath him shuddered as giant vents cracked open, jets of white sparks and smoke violently spit out. Some form of micro-cosmic apocalypse was occurring. Gretzky's black-garbed de-solidfied and poured like crude petroleum, revealing him to have been an Oiler at heart. I watch the slcik black jelly gather at the base of the cross and then down a gutter into the fiery realm below. Soon after the flaming cross toppled down becoming an iconic ruin. The pumpkin stared impassively over the proceeding, it was still untouched by the heat but its' fungal growth was now withered.

The rest of the Hallowe'en night passed in sizzling drizzle, warm wind, and teargas-grade smoke. I heard things circling us at the edge of tree-line, it must have been stange gusts of wind knocking wet leaves, whatever it was it came no closer. The Hallowe'en bonfire held for another year. Re-entering the house, I hear a funny voice call out of the basement, "Done, it is. Deposed is the dark king." The oracle given by the Blinded Yoda has come to pass. Time is Free.


The connection between wheelBARROW and Tolkein's undead BARROWwights intrigued me but they are two different words - that just happen to have ended up with the same spelling.
barrow (1) "vehicle for carrying a load" - from beran "to bear, to carry"
barrow (2) "mound" - from berg "mountain, hill, mound, ice-berg"