Quickly

Quickly! I was with that man, the one I’d call god, again. Got attached. Quick! He was at the door of the studio. So off we went. Down the stairs, along the street, took the underground and got off at the central station, where the inward spiral turns to coil outward. Up the elevator. Where are we going? I ventured. You’ll see. Predictable old bugger. That was it, why I’d been hanging around him. Had to get to the bottom of this. What kind of fucking fake is he? And god help us if he ain’t. Anyway, thereupon I found myself bumping into his ass. Musty old white robes. He stopped. A door. Sign, Hologram Deposit. In we went. A desk behind it a boy. Can I help you? He was trying to keep a straight face. Explain to this boy the Deposit, he’s new here. There was something about this old god bugger, all that white hair looked a bit false, and the head, the head is definitely too small for someone of this height. There will come a time, the boy stopped and cleared his throat to catch my attention. There will come a time when you will want to become a hologram. All the holograms in this deposit are all that remains of earlier boys who have left themselves here as they want to be remembered.But, I asked puzzled, why would anyone want to become a hologram? You’ll see, everything has its limitations. But before I could question further they burst out in the giggles. I say they because the old bugger was no old bugger at all. They had this practical joke act together, one sitting on the other’s shoulders and dressing up as an old bugger, the god, a god. I got the giggles too. And the holograms, is that true? Oh yes. The replied, mock serious, swallowing laughter like they were holding their breath back. It happens to all of us sooner or later, when you can you will. Anyway let’s introduce ourselves. I’m Willie, I’m Wankie, and I’m Wonky. I’m Fuckface, did you ever see a real god, asked ingenuously. My new friends grinning like brass monkeys. Oriental monks.