“Get down! Get down! Get down! Which fucking bitch is gunna die first?”
The invasion begins. Forced to the floor with a barrel thrust down throats. Pushed and beaten into submission obeying each violent command; equipment and machinery is strewn around the building. Chaos.

Pressed hard against my skull the steel phallus penetrates my fear. No, I don’t want to die first. Thrusting his revolver deeper into my occipital ridge he reminds me of his ultimate power. Forcing me down, the dank smell of putrid carpet invades my brain. Trampling my body, I am insignificant. My will to live subsides. I allow the carnage to envelope me. Terror pulses throughout my body, I am riveted. Conscious thoughts of my past and the pain of a lost future overwhelm.
Stepping around the fear and piss we are ushered to the kitchen. Scattering cockroaches flee as tea is brewed and sugary platitudes are stirred.
“What happened?”
“How could this happen to us?”
“At work we are supposed to be safe.”
“At least we were not shot!”
“Safe? Never!”


A sensual red mouth emits the shallow words of empathy over perfect teeth. Her blonde hair frames a face of innocence and betrayal. Dr. Amy Goodtrap, trauma psychologist seduces under the guise of concern, entraps with her lies and maladjusted-diagnoses.

“How are you feeling? Tell me about your dreams? How could that dream be so poignant? Is that a pentagram around your neck?”
“It could be the Star of David.”
“No, you’re a witch!”
“A witch me, no it is a symbol of protection.”
“Ha, you’re an evil woman. You conjured this incident and were the inside operative!”
“Me? No, not me, please, no!”
“Not only are you a witch; you’re a sick witch. Here take these pills you’ll feel better in the morning. Didn’t you know, there’s always an agenda!”
“You’re fired!”


Snakeskin shoes tread the hallway of justice. Fellatio is performed between the folds of black silk gowns. Horse’s hair decorates salacious minds. Venomous whispers and lecherous taunts oppress the victims of the proletariat regime. No wonder Athena prefers to be blindfolded.
“Have we got a deal for you? Take the deal or we will vilify you before the world.”
Leaning forward drooling and dragging me into their deep pools of distrust and lost promises they hiss; “so, are you going to accept the offer? You know this is an opportunity of a lifetime.”
The vultures are gathering and salivating from the scent of the kill.
Scanning life-creviced faces and pondering the alternatives, “I must consider the emotional and financial quotient of the decision!” The offer is rancid and beckons me into the fortress of deceit.
“Take the offer or you will be forever lost in the closet of smoke and mirrors!”
“Do I have to say thank you for this great honour?”
“Come on chaps, we have violated the innocent let’s celebrate the victory with a feast and fine wine.



Joined March 2008

  • Artist
  • Artwork Comments 2

Artist's Description

A snapshot of a real life experience – at least I’ve lived to tell the tale

Artwork Comments

  • snowwombat
  • Harlequin
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