Jizz Angels by Alex S. Johnson

Two Maggot Angels were chilling in the interstices between Heaven and Hell. One was named Bob, the other, the Sigil Formerly Known as Wormfood.

“How’s it hangin,’ Sigil Formerly Known?” asked Bob.

“Pretty low. I can’t get a job anywhere. Went to the employment office, but there was a line around the block. Hard out there for a Maggot Angel.”

“I hear you loud and clear. Me too. Maybe we should change our status.”

“Change our status? How do you mean?”

“I mean maybe there’s a glut on the market for Maggot Angels. I heard a rumor from a guy…but let’s go get a Bukkake Cone.”

“Solid. They’ve got a Bukkake Cone stand at the Plaza Odium. The place is a little smelly since they started excavating the carnival graveyard and there’s piles of clown corpses everywhere, but, between you, me and the fly mob, there’s nothing like a cool Bukkake Cone on a hot day.”

The Maggot Angels walked to the Plaza, which was only a mile away. They ordered medium cups of Bukkake–strawberry flavor–and sat thoughtfully for awhile, spooning up the creamy goodness. 

“So let’s hear more about this Jizz Angels concept,” said Sigil Formerly Known.

“Ain’t no thing. Well, I’ll level with you. It’s more than just a rumor, it’s happening. I don’t want to jinx it by telling you too much now, but let’s just say a guy could get pretty rich pretty quick if he got in on the ground floor.”

“What does a Jizz Angel do?”

“There’s a lot of waiting involved. What they do, basically, is wait, usually behind a large piece of furniture, while someone whacks it or sinks it in balls deep. Then, when they cum, a Jizz Angel floats over their head and sings a little song.”

“A song? Like, what kind of song?”

“I don’t know, folk songs, grindcore, Dolly Parton. Whatever rocks that person’s particular boat.”

“I don’t know, dude,” said Sigil. “It sounds deeply random.”

“As opposed to Maggot Angel?”

“Yeah, but at least Maggot Angels have been around for a while now.”

“Evolution is a bitch, my friend. We rose from the decomposed with wriggling wings, and now it’s time to change that public persona. Why, in no time at all, this Jizz Angels thing is going to go universal. I hear Jehovah himself is down with it. And Satan, damn, he wants to corner the franchise and start mass-producing Jizz Angels as fast as he can get his claws on their souls.”

“Well, if folks of that stature are involved, there must be something to it.”

“Hells yeah there is,” said Bob. “Look, I’ve got a video here.” He pulled a cassette from beneath his wormy pinions. 

One Week Later

“Sign me up,” said Sigil. “I think I’ve got what it takes to be a Jizz Angel, and no mistake. Also, I spoke to some buddies of mine and they’re very, very curious.”

And the two Maggot Angels joined hands and burst into an a cappella duet of “Wrecking Ball.”

 

 

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