THE LEGEND OF TOM TIFFANY AND THE COSMIC FETUS OF DESTINY
THE LEGEND OF TOM TIFFANY AND THE COSMIC FETUS OF DESTINY
(Absurdist Satire)
It was a night of chaos in the Quad Cities, the kind of night foretold only in the forbidden footnotes of the Babylonian PTA newsletters. A fetus yes, a fully sentient, tax‑paying fetus lay helpless on the floor of the Galactic Dragatorium, a venue known for hosting interdimensional bingo tournaments and occasional wormhole leaks.
The fetus cried out, not in English, but in prenatal Morse code, begging for salvation.
Above it loomed the Order of the Chromatic Stage Sorcerers, beings who wore sequins forged in the heart of collapsing stars. They were not drag queens they were Dragons of the Stage, ancient theatrical entities who had been performing campy rituals since the 50,000th century of Babylon.
Their bingo cards were enchanted. Their dabbers glowed with demonic power. Their wigs hummed with forbidden electricity.
They chanted spells from the 13th Jubilee Codex, including the terrifying incantations:
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE, CREEP?”
“WHO TOOK MY GOOD EYELASH GLUE?”
“B‑12! B‑12! THE PORTAL OPENS!”
Just when all seemed lost, the doors burst open.
Enter Tom Tiffany, Shirtless Defender of the Midwest.
He strode in speaking in tongues — not human tongues, but the dialect of the Wisconsin Archangels, a language composed entirely of bratwurst metaphors and deer‑hunting idioms.
He ripped off his shirt, revealing sparkling pectorals so radiant they temporarily blinded three counties. His chest shimmered with the sacred hue known only as Pink of the Superior Kind, a color banned in 47 dimensions for being too powerful.
Then, in a display of pure Midwestern righteousness, he bent over and performed the ancient ritual known as the Straightness Demonstration, involving rods, beams of holy light, and a choreography so complex it caused two nearby galaxies to file noise complaints.
The Dragatorium trembled.
The bingo cards caught fire.
The fetus levitated.
The Archangel Gabriel descended, riding a flaming Pegasus named Craig, who was known for his punctuality and disdain for municipal parking laws.
