text: Ever since I devoured the world as a maggot I knew I was his champion. I sang his song louder than the rest. My wings beat only for him, carrying his word across the putrid land I harvest. My eyes only exist for him to see through! And one day when my wings don’t beat and my eyes stop working and my mouth goes rigid, He will take me to his table! And there, I will pronounce my oath to him and he will know that his creation still worships him as their own! A warm, fecal note wafts into my brain, and I charge east in the name of the only god I pray to, Beelzebub! Beelzebub, this dinner is in your honor, as all my meals are! The stench encompasses me and my legs sink into the feces. fleshling, Ech. But for you, my lord, I dine. And in my vision, my brothers and sisters and children feed too! But they are not as hungry as I my lord! They do not sink their mouths in knowing that next to them sits the true champion in your eyes! For I will eat, and eat, and eat to the point of gorging just to please you. I will spread the filth to the world. I will devour the world and then Shit. It. Out. For the fleshlings deserve to know, the rest of the great kingdom of animals deserve to know, Beezlebub, lord of the fliers, lord of the flies, lord of the skies, is king! I renounce all other gods, for their followers are not as deserved as I! I will eat the world’s shit and make it my own! I am doing unto them what they have done unto the world! I take to the sky, my wings singing just for him. And I leave this dark grey canyon that the human’s made and into the larger one. I smell meat below me. More to feed on! Later, I will not be greedy, I will let the devoted dine first, and I will clean the earth below me when they are finished. I spot a nice fleshling under an oak. I land on the tree and watch. They dine on a single apple, too ripe for my liking. Their neck looks pasty. It looks stupid, and ugly, and born of something unnatural! And I scream to them, I scream: You take from the earth that gave you its life and devoured our air! We used to be kings, and you reduced us to pests! We are not pests, we are order! And I charge forth, wings singing in Beezlebub’s choir, first in line, first seat at the table, and land on the fleshling neck, and with great delight, with great savoring, I excrete the world unto them, and I laugh! I laugh knowing I am a dutiful soldier doing my job for a god who loves me, for a greater cause, and for a future without flesh. For there will come a day, a dark and stenched day, when there is nothing too ripe, fresh, or living enough for the teeth of my Brothers and Sisters. The maggots will feed on eyes, and we will take the tongues and flesh. We will return to being the kings we once were, and the world, Beelze-- I feel the air above me lurch towards me, and I am skybound before a force of immeasurable weight collides with me in my back. My thorax caves in, I can’t see out of 12 of my eyes, my wings will never sing again, and my legs won’t move. I am no more. Crushed by a fleshy hand. Please, I served you with all of my being. Please I am your champion. Please let me dine.