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#CODENAMEKANSAS: Origin Stories, “Elfesto”


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ELFESTO

“Elfesto”

From the personal journal of Elfesto, Emperor Witch of the West

I was looking in a mirror the other day and I had something of an epiphany. I had just got finished pulling the heads of some filthy little urchins from that Shakespeare bitch’s territory trying to score a high on the run off from one of my ope refineries. Public executions are definitely my favorite part of being the Emperor Witch of the West.

So, anyway, I’m checking out my hotness, admiring the way the blood caked on my hands and chest set off the color in my eyes, and I get to thinking about the nature of power.

I’m not really one to pontificate these days. I used to. Fuck I would spend hours just thinking. Thinking about how unfair, unjust the world is. Feeling sorry for myself and the pathetic little roaches I surrounded myself with. UUUHHHGGG, FUCK THAT.

But I started to think about the looks in the eyes of all the people around, the fear, the sadness, the glee, and of course a healthy bit of arousal. I don’t say this enough but I really do love my people. Hahahaha! Just kidding, they could be next on the block if they so much as fart in my general direction. But as I recalled those looks and the feeling of the helpless junkie’s head separating from its body, I realized…I am the most just and right thing this world has ever seen.

Back when humans were a bunch of hunter/gatherer/lice pickers, the power lay in who was the strongest. The ability to cave in another’s head was all one needed to arrive at a position of authority in the tribe. Well, some people think early humans just fucked all day. Fine, so then, who ever fucked the best? Either way, that was the closet humans ever came to having a fair society. Cuz after that, humans went and invented agriculture. Sure, head smashing skills still looked good on a resume.  But the people who had the real power are the ones who managed to swindle and scam their way into it. They got the property, they got the laborers to make the food, and they got the skull crushers to crush skulls. And that’s the way it went all the way up to 2015.

Okay so…I wasn’t always the atomic bombshell queen of all dastardly deeds you see ripping folks asunder in the public court. Back before the internet turned on its creators, I was an, excuse me while I suppress the need to vomit, social worker. That’s a very broad term by the way; I really don’t want to get into specifics. I worked for something called a “non-profit” and my job was to take people with the least amount of power and sell them as suitable janitors and garbage handlers.  I learned something about power back then; I learned that people were desperate for it. I like to think I’ve done a good job of beating that out of my peasants. Even the coders in the suburb compound know their fucking place. But in those days, just about everyone suffered from the delusion that they were destined to be more powerful than they were at that moment, and they would use their existing power on anyone with less to prove it.

I just wanted the world to be a fair place and like the rest of the morons, I thought I would one day acquire enough power to make it so. But time and time again I was shown evidence to the contrary. I remember having to explain to a client why they had to be nice and smile when their boss was telling them to do some stupid ass shit that didn’t need to be done. In so many words it broke down to this, “The boss wants to know you’re afraid they will fire you, they want you to know that they have the power.”

But why does the boss have the power? Are they stronger, faster, smarter? 99 percent of the time; the deciding factor boils down to dumb fucking luck. Usually it’s having been born into a system where being a straight white male was the ultimate cheat code.

Then that beautiful bald man on a unicorn came and saved us all. The meme broke out and the nature of power took the most dramatic turn since the invention of agriculture.

I remember when the “Meme That Broke The Internet” hit; I was on site with a client who was sorting trash. The covered loading dock had three compactors for compost, trash and recycling. Every kind of stink imaginable was there to hang out and I tried my best to be a mouth breather while I was there. My client wore a mask that irritated the shit out of them their entire shift. The straps were scratchy, their nose ran under the mask so their nose was constantly snotty. I guess they had just reached the point where they couldn’t take it anymore because my client ripped off the mask and screamed that they wanted a better mask, a better job. That’s when the boss man showed up. He wore the uniform of every other well to do thirty something. Dark neutral slim cut slacks, leather belt, a plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the forearm and an oversized and over-priced wrist watch. The trash facility was on a software company’s campus. Back then, there was a big push for companies to recycle more and shit, so there was a lot of money in waste management. This yuppie douche bag took pride in hiring these poor little disenfranchised souls that were my clients. And he never missed an opportunity to lord that moral superiority over anyone in ear shot.

“Whoa, that behavior is really out of line,” the boss man said as if he was talking to a toddler throwing a tantrum. I managed to say something before my client did, “We’re going to take a short break for some breathing and after the shift we can talk to you about this.” My client looked at me with fire in their eyes for speaking for them and for suggesting that they need to breathe in more of the spoiled dairy air.

Then boss man said “You know, I really don’t like that you can just call a break. I feel like my authority should be respected.”

I swallowed a giant rage lump and said, “Of course, I apologize…can we please take a short break to cool off?” Boss man just turned his back and walked off toward his office.

I sat down with my client and didn’t say anything. They didn’t want to work here. They did it because they were told it was the best they could hope for.  And me, I’m the person who was tasked with helping them reach their goals. Well this particular client’s goal was to save tigers from extinction. Hard to see how sorting rich peoples refuse was going to get them there.

My client got back to work after a few moments and a few not really deep breaths and I went to talk to the boss man. I decided to indulge myself and get a little dopamine rush from my phone before I went in. I scrolled through the calming stream of images featuring rippling abs and super cute undies and then…it happened.

Oh fuck yes did it happen! When the Meme struck, all the lights in the building died and there was a buzz of panic filling the atmosphere. It was so instantaneous, everyone was thrown off balance. But not me, in a flash I had come to the realization that everything had changed and I had finally gotten my wish. And the first person I wanted to celebrate with was the fashionable boss man.

I made such wonderful music with his screams before I drained the bandwidth from his grey matter and left him dead on the floor. That was the best part, they say knowledge is power and when the meme turned one percent of humans into witches, every one of us had the instruction manual downloaded right into our brain. I instantly knew two things; I had a lot of other Witches to kill if I was going to be the most powerful thing to walk this earth. And I was going to have soooooooo much fucking fun doing it.

I entered one of the buildings filled with nerds flipping shit at the loss of all digital tech. I walked up to one of the not gross nerds, I liked his front sweep hair, and said, “You would look so hot with an eye patch.” Before he could reply I put my thumb in his eye. I reached out with my other hand and sent currents of red energy through the office space and into the eyes, mouth and ears of all the drones within. As front sweep screamed and bled I kissed him hard on the mouth, sucking what I needed from his cortex. And just like that, I got a room full of my own zombie minions. Gotta fucking love it. I kinda miss those days, but with so few of us Witches left there’s hardly a need for it. All that matters now is who’s the last Witch standing. But I digress.

I marched my hoard throughout the campus, picking and choosing who would serve and who would die. I came back toward the waste center. There was my client, still sorting trash, still fidgeting with their mask. They saw me and pulled down their mask.

“You are different,” they said.

“Oh, I’ve always been different sweetie, but yes I’ve made some changes,” I was toying with whether or not to kill the sad sap when they said, “I like it. Can I come?”

This was the last time I have ever been taken aback. At that moment it felt as though the power I just grabbed leaked out of me and I was still the uncertain little twit I was forty minutes ago.

“I…I don’t actually know where I’m going yet,” I said with a somewhat broken voice.

“Same thing we do every night Pinky, TRY TO TAKE OVER THE WORLD!” was their dramatically out of context response.  Nonsensical as the suggestion was, it certainly had some appeal. And you know what, if this silly little shit wanted to tag along…why the fuck not? What’s the use of being powerful if you can’t do whatever the fuck you want?  And in that moment, I wanted to go and rip people limb from limb while my old client/new friend laughed hysterically.  Maybe we could save some tigers… and feed the people to them.

Fast forward a few major apocalypses later and here I am, on the precipice of becoming the most powerful being that ever walked the earth.

For thousands of years humans have been scrambling for power, pushing and shoving and demeaning each other for it. If one person had some and they were a different color, or fucked different kinds of people, then any kind of power, even the form of basic rights, had to be taken. The wealthy hoarded their wealth oversees and controlled the government with it but still vied for higher positions amongst their own privileged set of turds. I guess it wasn’t that much different after the first apocalypse, with one percent of us having all the power in the world. But now there are four and soon, soon I will find this code or crack it, and then I will have ALL OF THE GODDAMN BEAUTIFUL COCKSUCKING POWER!

And what could be more just, more fair than that? Every single sentient being on this planet, even if there’s only a few, are all equal. No one is above the other. There’s no position to vie for, there’s no greater or lesser to knock out on your way to the top. My servants know this, they know I am the one true authority, and they are nothing but an extension of my will. They know and accept this. Well, now anyway. There is the occasional fucktard that needs to learn their place. But yeah, they fucking know.

Elfesto, the Wicked Emperor Witch of the West and soon to be ruler of all of OZ will have finally have made a perfect world. Although I guess it will be a boring one. I get kind of sad actually. But hey, there is a whole galaxy out there right? Elfesto, Queen of the Universe? Why the fuck not. Here’s to fucking Justice!

…Oh and by the way, this is a personal journal. That means I put a tech spell on it that informs me of whenever someone is reading it and teleports me to their location. So you, fair reader are about to meet me in person, I hope it was worth it for you. I’ll make sure it was for me.

Now turn around and SCREAM BITCH!

By Dick Phillips
Art by Stevie VanBronkhorst

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