you know your job

go do it

The stage has been empty.

There’s dust in the wings.

The stage manager fell asleep with their headset on and they are covered with cobwebs.

A small spotlight cuts through the darkness.

I can hear the sounds of people coming in.

The shoes still fit.

And the butterflies are still smashing about wildly.

It’s show time.

Get out there.

Bathe in the light.

Let them see you.

Let them hear you.

If you can’t speak - move.

If you can’t move - fart

And make that fart so glorious, so absurd and so perfect they’ll have no choice but be ass tounded by the power of your buthole.