Unicorn Shit


It was a late night on a bright road, bright only for the flash of lightning over the marshes and swamps. A frizzy­ haired woman wandered down the empty road while rain soaked her tattered dress and boots. She looked both ways, and after seeing there were no cars coming down the road in either direction, she ran and jumped into a puddle in the middle of the street.

She began to spin with her arms out and palms facing up, singing “Rhiannon rings like a bell through the night, and wouldn’t you love to love her?”

A whirl of motion caught the peripheral of her eye as she was spinning. She looked to see a seven foot hole in a backyard fence that ran along the road because the atoms had split it and opened up a swirling wormhole to the underworld of cotton candy and unicorn shit. Which, ironically tastes an awful lot like chicken. The woman could smell it from where she was standing. She was hungry. As she walked towards the wormhole, a voice in her head said,

“Be careful of the man in the corner­ No one knows where he has come from or where he goes after this. The only thing anyone knows about him is that he was once a well renowned chemist who was at the peak of his synthesis and patenting fame when an accident involving a helicopter crash and a chemical storage facility left him with an unsettling and mysterious personality disorder.”

A walrus then emerged from the hole, and the chemist’s second personality ran up to it and licked it, saying, “He tastes like magic, not chicken!”

The woman didn’t know what to do. She didn’t want to believe it didn’t taste like chicken. So in a random burst of courage, she pushed the chemist into the wormhole. Then she gave the walrus a lick, and sure enough, it tasted like magic. She screamed and jumped into the wormhole, leaving the walrus and the chemist’s first personality to play in the thunderstorm together.