the
holiest triad, the primary hues – oligarchic triumvirate
from
which ensues the Collective of Purple and Orange
and
Green and their endless derivatives. But Green has been
keening
for power – shunted aside for too long by The Primes
in the
triad eternally second in line (with its doltish dim siblings,
that
oafishly ogling Orange, and the prissily purposeless Purple),
its
envy, for which it is justly renowned, has now grown
to
a ravenous rage to unseat its complacent progenitors, quickly
dissolving
them into insensible paints so that Green can begin
its
illustrious reign. It insinuates into the dark and precipitates
slowly
on each of them, making each slick with the smell of itself,
staining
each with inarguably killing proof that, remorseless, they
all
have incestuously used poor Green as their sexual toy. No
greater
sin than to do such a thing. But so far this ploy hasn’t
very
much bothered Blue, Yellow or Red. They’re quite enjoying
the
emerald jello-y streaks that Green nightly appears to want
so much
to leak. Each has started to lick off the skin of the other
the
lime-minty drips which turn out to be rather a wonderful taste.
They’ve
decided in fact now to issue a fiat to Green,
and
to Purple and Orange and all of their infinite progeny
similarly
to provide all their flavors, in dollops
and drops, one
by one,
sip by sip so to savor the fullest degree of the outcomes
of being the gods that they are. Green didn’t get
very far.
.
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