Chuck Aldiss and the chrome plated megaphone of destiny

...And believe me: the life of Chuck Aldiss was a retahila of disgraces and bitternesses, from the cradle, to...

Because Aldiss was born in Basconia, Kentucky: the place was declared international capital of obesity, a depressing shithole, full of wind and plantations of sweet potatoes.

During his childhood, Aldiss started creating some prose, solid foundations for his future vocation of writer, though something bad happened when he wrote a curious poem titled "The serpent of the 7 skins and the Egyptian onion"
Chuck showed the poem to his mother, but she was fed up of the little artist, and shouted at him:

"Madnesses madnesses! Why do you ruminate so many madnesses, my son!?" 

And so, and so, and so she kicked his ass, kicked his ass and kicked his ass, and, by means of excentrifugal forz, sent Chuck Aldiss flying to the sidewalks, where the kold and the strange & bearded men dance.

Cruelly expulsed from his house, Chuck Aldiss (who was only 25) went to live in the house of a lowlife junkie called Bermudo Bidonde, in a near town called Trumpet Ville.

Bidonde was a vicious, cruel and callous man, he had many things to hide, and forbad Aldiss to use the bathroom -among other arbitrary dispositions-, so that Chuck Aldiss had to go and take the shits at a letrina in the back patio.

One windy night, while Aldiss was defecating at that ignoble cabinet, a furibund diarrhea assaulted his entrails

which at first was a normal defecation turned into unstoppable jets of liquid shit: desperate, Chuck Aldiss went out of the latrine to pull up some grass from the garden, to clean that infamous water closet:

unexpectedly, Chuck Aldiss saw a silvery fulgor shining from a bush, coming closer, he saw a chrome plated megaphone, semi-occult behind the untidy shrubs of the garden, an impeccable, argentine, dazzling megaphone

the rarest megaphone he ever saw

and it had bobines.

After cleaning the immonde latrine the best he could, Aldiss covered the megaphone with his jacket, and went to the nauseating cellar with walls all covered in fungi where Bidonde allowed him to sleep, taking the stentorian and sonorous instrument with him.

The morning after when Chuck Aldiss woke up, he jumped out of the bed and ran to admire the intriguing megáfono

after a brief breakfast, Aldiss went to the street with the megaphone, and started talking to the people like a raving lunatic, mostly because he was actually insane... 

...shhhh:

in that moment, the most shocking and awsome[sic] revelation took the life of Chuck H. Aldiss by storm: 

any order, or even any suggestion pronounced through that prodigious megaphone, was automatically and blindly obeyed by anyone who'd hear it.

By just anyone.

Chuck Aldiss felt an icy shiver running down his spine, for a moment he stayed petrified, standing there like an autist

slowly he tried to ruminate, if it was real, or just an illusion: 

a fat woman passed by when, with imperative voice thundering through the megaphone, Aldiss gave the woman an order:

"Madam, stop! Lick my shoes"

as soon as the order was given, the plump matron went down on her knees, and started sliding her tongue on the surface of his Nike Feraldi's

"Ok ok, enough, now run and fall on the sidewalk like a drunkard"

the poor woman ran the best she could, her immense buttocks swayed like two big cushions under her dress, then, she suddenly stopped her frenzied race letting her heavy humanity fall on the sidewalk with grotesque brusqueness.

But Aldiss still shouted:

"Ok, ok, now stand up and disappearrrrrr jumping on one leg!"

The woman obeyed immediately and started going away jumping on one of her legs like a retard, while her morbid obesity quaked & shuddered like flan Ravana, and turning at the corner in this fashion, she disappeared.

A mephistophelean smile emerged in the face of Chuck Aldiss, who felt a mixture of excited inebriation and inenarrable distress

and then the fear

and then the panic

and then the vertigo

and then the run

ran Chuck Aldiss: ran

faster and faster at every street

with that diabolical megaphone

with that cosa e' Mandinga in his trembling hands

running through Trumpet Ville, and beyond, leaving the city limits, escaping from himself and this blinding fate of unlimited possibilities:

owner of wills, owner of lives, Aldiss, Chuck?

Owner of the Universal designs from now on and forever Chuck Aldis?!?

AAAA HAHAHA! Look at him, see how he runs, more than runs: he jumps among the crowd, like an enraged botarate Aldiss, Chuck

among the herd, that is his own property now, all, all..!