Jews.

The Siege of Jerusalem

For the days shall come upon thee: and thy enemies shall cast a trench about thee and compass thee round and straiten thee on every side . . . (Luke 19:43)

If one were to sit me down and ask me, honestly, how I feel about the Siege of Jerusalem…I’d tell them to go fuck themself. Righteous faggot.

Quite a while back, I was employed under Titus as a cheerleader or donkey coach or some shit. The work was dog crap, but I had fun in the sun and got reamed in the shade. I was conscripted into the Roman shitheads, some slime-coated legion. My commander was Tiberius Julius Alexander and the bro smelled like he lived in GOAT-clown diarrhea/refused to wash his fuckin’ feet. XV Apollinaris, that was the name of the legion I was stuck with…bunch of assholes really. For the first few months of service, I pretended to be a fucked up retard. On campaign, my favorite pastime was to sneak into a comrade’s tent and quietly slide into his furs. Then I would whisper naughty poopoo things into his ear and brush my throbbing wart pole against his meaty calves. When the poor pile of congealing rat piss would come to, I’d scream: “POP GOES THE WEAZEL!” and break a chair over his head. In the morning, the few fuckers stumbling from their tents rubbing their asses and their heads and weeping a little? Yeah, those would be the fucks I fucked.

Anyway, we were on campaign, during this real dry desert summer heat and I had this ass infection from Satan. I had been up late the night before deployment, standing on a god damn heap of rocks, doing these ridiculous parlor tricks for all the guys. You know, bullshit like sucking off the main principes leader and spitting it at the crowd and they would all scream “WOOOHOO!!” and flash their rock-hard pecs. Well I did this one, which usually is a nono cuz it makes me shart blood for several weeks after…where I shove a sharpened lance into my crack. The boys loved that one.

So I’m hobbling along the morning after. We march fucking everywhere. I mean we marched for two months straight before we reached our destination and I had this massively awful ass infection the whole fuckin’ time. Well as you can imagine, my flatulence is foreboding to the bastards behind me and we lost several troops along the way to my gangrene gas alone. I cried for much of the way, Tiberius shouting at me to shut my shit or else he’d dump my ass in the red sea. I would just flash my crooked pecker and flip him off. Him on his high horse. What a dumb shit. That very night, I pissed bloody urine into his water bladder and smeared my dribbling asshole over his sleeping mask. I mean it was pure hell that march. I tried my best to keep my belly full with unfermented wine and dingle-berries. I developed this real lurid immunity and subsequent addiction to hemlock, which I brought plenty of. The shit made me hallucinate like I was a god damn holy man on Mars.

The skies were on fire the day we reached the third wall to the west of Jerusalem at the Fortress of Antonia. My anus was afire and I was fucking tripping on hemlock tea when I was assigned to siege engine four, May 15TH, 70 A.D.

OH MY GOD! I was seeing these giant fucking squirrel people flying all over my god damn head! I was assigned to this fucking siege engine, a sort of advanced battering ram. I kept screaming at the others to “DUCK FOR COVER, YOU WENCHES! THESE SQUIRREL MUTANTS MEAN BUSINESS, FOR CHRIST’S SAKE!” Many of the other laughed, but I recall later being approached by a number of them asking me if I had been serious. “FUCKIN’ A!” I told them.

So anyway, the Jews on the other side of the wall were throwing rocks and all sorts of shit - I swear I was hit with a fucking used condom, which I promptly chewed into ribbons and spat out at a horrified Roman conscript. He threw his down his sword and covered his eyes, then ran squealing into the army at my back. I couldn’t stop laughing. It was around the time of the condom incident that our commander Titus ordered us to begin hacking away at this fucking wall with toy bats or some shit because we weren’t making a fucking dent with the rams. Those god damn arabush bastards began pouring out through this little dick-hole breach and everyone in the legion starts going apeshit. I draw my sword and start banging on my helmet, whopping and hollering that “CHRIST IS HERE AND HE’S PISSED!” A dinky arrow bounced off my chest armor so I bounded from the siege engine and fell upon the first heeb I saw. My two sandaled ham-schlongs landed on his fucking head and he buckled like a bean pole. I bashed him in the head with my hoobastank wand and he passed out. I drowned him in a bucket of rat filth and sat, rocking back and forth over the corpse, spitting and hissing at passersby for the remainder of the foray. I fell asleep sometime after dusk.

I was jarred awake by some asshole early; I mean too early the next day and shoved head first into this dink formation. I was still clutching my sword like it was a severed wonka bar and had a clump of human pubic hair in my teeth. My eyes felt as if someone ripped them from my ocular cavities, sucked on them like caramels, then spat em into my bloody ass. This real tall fucker is shouting at me to “get in line for attack!” and all around me, archer commanders are calling out “LOOSE!” There’s a shit-storm about to take place and my dumb ass is right in the middle. I kicked the tall, shouting guy in the nards and he buckled. Well the command came through the lines to go forward and we rushed in like little mutant vermin, shrieking like banshees. I snapped out of my daze and got to galloping real hard like a fucked up kangaroo on all fours. I ripped off my helmet and swung it high over my head, horse hair forward and then real low under my balls over and over again whilst yelling “I AM CORKY FROM LIFE GOES ON YOU ASSHOLES!” I then crab walked into the fortress like that, my erect dick out from under my armored shit-skirt, pissing out my acidic, hellishly nasty piss all over the sleeping Zealots inside.

Within about an hour, the legion took the fortress. Our commander (the douche of wales is what I called him) goes hobbling up to the tip of our siege tower and bellows down to us that we are the greatest army in the land. I balled up some of my own poop into a grape leaf wad and fired it up at him, striking him in the fucking face. He cried out and fell off the tower onto his ass. I heard him whimpering a little bit back there as many of the men laughed so hard they were falling over. Well Tiberius gets back up to his feet and it’s obvious that he’s crying although he’s trying to hide it. He pretends to laugh and through tears shouts, “Okay, ha ha who threw that?” Silence. “Come on guys, seriously, I won’t be mad. Who threw the doody?” Well I was getting bored so I yelled, “PARTY IN MY TENT!” and tossed this burning torch I had been holding. Right then, Titus came into the soirée on his horse and saw me throw the torch. “NOOOOOOOOO!” he screamed as he daintily dismounted and came skipping toward me. “You fool! I promised we would not destroy the temple!” I flashed my hog pouch and belched putrid, before hollering “COME ON GIRLS, PARTY TIME!”

Only a few soldiers followed me out that night. I raped and murdered them with their swords after the awful bout of a hemlock trip gone badly. I came to around the time the temple was aflame. I watched as the remainder of Herod the Great’s expansion crumpled. Sitting there on the hill, sipping a little wine and weeping for the nastiness burning in my a-hole, I thought to myself of the ways that were and the woes that are. And then, perhaps, maybe it isn’t so bad…being me. A few squirrel people whirred by, ruffling my balding scalp in the furious desert air.