For those who don’t know it, the Gateway Arch is a large archway constructed out of the metal hides of the great Chimera which stalked these lands in 1742, ravaging the countryside and roasting marshmallows atop the roaring fires of burning settlements, using human spines as skewers.

The Gateway Arch gives a simple message to those who travel to St. Louis:

“Oh hi there! Hey! Yeah, come on in! Seriously, it’s dead! Don’t worry! Oh, but you WILL have to put up with a shit load of fireworks when you’re trying to sleep at night.”

Unfortunately, I stopped listening after “Hey! Yeah, come on in!” which led to extreme consequences. I should have kept on the road and taken my chances in Illinois. It’s just a bridge-length away from St. Louis. It’s as if Missouri was in the process of figuring out it’s borders when it saw St. Louis in the distance to the East with it’s shiny riverboats and abundance of pub/steakhouses, it reached over and said “YOINK! Suck it, Illinois!”

That was before they realized there was a serious gang problem here, of course. St. Louis is known for it. I witnessed it myself! Red shirts everywhere that said Cardinals on them (an obvious reference to the 1802 mining operations of St. Louis where small under-aged Cardinals were forced to sing and perform unspeakable acts for the amusement of the miners, including the removal of all their pretty red feathers for the construction of elaborate hats and feather socks). They travelled in groups large and small to a central meeting spot which in gang-language is reffered to as a “jookie-poke” where cult-like rituals are practiced. At roughly 10:30p of that same night, the fireworks began. One firework set off for each virgin they beheaded (to symbolize the journey of their spirit into the heavens, where it then explodes and nourishes the land with unfettered wireless Internet access).

Holy shit that guy had a crazy laugh. I’m sitting here minding my own business, writing this blog post, and… It was like… eh, shit, I’ll never be able to describe it accurately in text.

Imagine The Joker’s crazy laugh mixed with a seagull and a dog’s squeaky chew toy. It went like “haHEH haHEH haHEH haHEH” and to make it even more disturbing, he was going down an escalator at the time, so I looked over to see what monstrosity might make such a noise and saw a man… Ordinary looking, I suppose, aside from the blood gushing from his distorted mouth and metal claws where his ears should be… a man drifting steadily downwards into the floor while making THAT noise. Zeus help the people he was about to slaughter on level three. You can get rid of the Chimeras, St. Louis, but more monsters will always emerge.

“To the trash can with thee, foul thing!” Cried the Proprietor, “we’ll not have the likes of you in my cereal bowl!”

“Cast me not from your sight, fair Lord!” Wept the blackened corn flake, “for I have been but a victim of faulty making! I know not how to be yellow like normal corn flakes!”

The Proprietor sniffed, “Hah! I care not, deviant!”

“But sir! If you be just…”

“A thing burned cannot be un-burned, foul blackened corn crisp! Know this and accept your fate!”

And the Proprietor laughed a hearty laugh, closing the lid of the little white trash can in the kitchen.

“My bowl shall need refilling soon, methinks,” grumbled the Proprietor, “and I shall hope to see not the likeness of burning upon the future flakes what tumble from the cardboard flaps of this family size box… A box so large, I say, that it holds nearly a half and quarter more than your average box!”

“And yet,” he chuckled, “the price I pay for this box is less still! Less, I say, than ordinary sized boxes, thanks to a thirty cent off coupon!!!”

The Proprietor laughed a long and riotous laugh, maddened by his own savings. He stopped only to pour what would be the next of many bowlfuls to come. With milk added, the Proprietor gorged himself on his feast of flaked corn, pausing only to breathe and add more organic unbleached sugar.

It was thus I found my old friend, the Proprietor, on our last meeting. If he had known our venture that day before the starting, I believe he very well may have shown me out. For I was not there on his benefit, but instead… for REVENGE!