“The Adventures Of Boris K”
Boris K. was sent by the Vatican to deliver sinners’ souls out of damnation.
“Just like Christ did once.” Do you aspire to be Christ, Boris? “To splatter the Lord’s blood on you?” Cardinal Pepe, flanked by authorities, smiled at him with a toothless smile.
(“Everyone has really long noses,” Boris K. observed.)
Boris K. wrapped his arms around the Vatican pillar. The baptismal tree fell before his eyes, as did flogging to death, a popular Roman sport…
His body burned in his wounds at the mere mention of the whip…
The cardinal frowned, smoothed the costly silk cardinal’s uniform, and poured expensive whiskey for Boris K.
“Calm down, Boris K. It is only hell.”
“I’m not going anywhere without Virgil!” “I’m a lost sheep without his guidance,” Boris K. moaned, turned on his heel, and boldly turned his back on the cardinal.
“Virgil has made it to the first round. Make your complaint to him, not to me. And now… Let’s raise a glass! “A present from the Roman Inquisition, son Boris,” Pepe smiled warmly, and the officials removed their congressional suits, revealing a Toledo-style attire.
Then he seized Boris K. and stripped him nude before putting on a penitential yellow robe with St. Andrew’s crimson crosses.
The Inquisitor then pointed at Boris while carrying a tumbler of whiskey in his other hand as the cardinal approached with a poker.
“Whiskey or the mark of the devil, Boris K. You choose.”
“God, if it’s your will… let this whiskey pass me by,” Boris K screamed. “At least if it was vodka, it would be simpler for me…” he reasoned.
To this, the cardinal replied: “Boris K., I swear to Hail Mary with three hands that if you execute your duty properly and respectfully, we will let you leave. You’re doing it for God’s sake, not mine “Cardinal Pepe gazed adoringly at the magnificent ceiling of the Apostolic Palace.
Boris K. went to hell after draining the liquid that a sadist monk had pushed down his throat, having nowhere else to go and fearing for his bare life.
In the ninth round, he awoke. He discovered Hitler conversing with an occultist at a back table, and it was the Roman Messalina.
“She has always shot high,” pondered Boris K., who reckoned the Roman Lolita deserved no higher than tenth…
“Yes, my blonde, that’s precisely where…” Jeremiah, you’re refilling now! And it all started with you, Paul! “
Hitler crossed something out in order to burrow further into the pile of documents on the table.
“Repent, O Führer – Boris K. before he went to Hell, he pulled out the paper provided to him by the Grand Inquisitor – The Sinner is Running Out of the Vatican.” Also, keep in mind:
“They shaved his mustache. He was, in fact, in the Andes. His hair has grown in hell, yet it burns too hot among the freezing horrors!”
“I can’t,” Hitler groaned. I’ll prepare them hell soup! Totalitarian cretins!”
“Hicco, return to Sodom and Gomorrah for me. – Messalina said — As the Roman Empress, the protector of public morality, I took Rome to its climax. Change marriage fornication, control intimate relationships, and prostitution. Let it simply be adultery.”
“Fine, just get rid of Chaste Joseph.”
Hitler and Messalina hugged at that point.
Boris K. scratched out Hitler’s name, wrote “Infidel,” and moved down to nine circle, towards Stalin.
“Everyone goes to jail! Jail, prison, prison! No, jail! “What… what?” He hastily turned left – right. – From where did the scream come? Is it becoming dark? Are you ringing, Љубљенка? Give me my Љубљенка, my honey! Ah, she’s finally arrived! I am content “, the dreadful commander, calmed down.
Then he spotted Boris K. He was staring at him with a cold, authoritarian gaze.
“I apologize,” Boris K. murmured. – You may leave hell if you wish. His Holiness has made you a tremendous offer.”
“Once again, the Vatican! What would the survival of the Catholic village children do to me? Surely, only the elite of Moscow!”
Boris K. scratched out Stalin’s name and moved down one circle, then down another. He was rejected for several reasons, beginning with Mussolini, who, according to Boris K.’s testimony, did well in the position of pimp. “I am a citizen of my own kin. After all, my trench was larger than Italy! “I have everything I desire.” Boris K. was also rejected by Mao Zedong and Kim Jong Il.
“We will turn China into a superpower!” A significant stride forward is unstoppable. Soon, there will be no feces for diners! That is the social strategy!”
Boris K. did not pass to Pinochet from the Fifth, nor to Margaret Thatcher, Nixon, Obama, or Bush Jr., who argued: “Who among us is the money god? “Is it me, me, or me?”
“Just as Dante said,” Boris K. sighed, caressing Pluto’s wolf, who looked in wonder at Western politicians.
Then he spoke to Boris K in a human voice: “I’ll request that I be moved to the crooks. This is overkill for me.”
Boris K. made it to the third round. Lawyers competed in the third level. It was not worth spending time for some souls.
Religious leaders fought in the second stage.
“They seem to be having a lovely time,” Boris K observed, expecting to discover what he sought in the First Round.
“Is everything all Well in hell?” Boris K. was perplexed. turning in the First Round, where TV hosts introduced a very popular show Almost everyone had crowded around the on-fire television set. Each round saw the arrival of fans of the TV show “Inferno.”
Boris K. also heard the announcer say, “Dear viewers, welcome to Inferno,” which was followed by ads, much to the pleasure of those in attendance.
The show went on eternally…
Boris K. discovered that everyone in Hell was content. The influence of the liquor wore off, and Boris K. found himself in the Vatican Palace before His Holiness.
– Your Eminence… – Boris K. said fearfully. Then submit a report to the Pope His Holiness shook his head.
Boris K was encircled by the Roman Inquisition. They extended their hands to him, as the friars moved in a circle around Boris K., carrying crosses in their palms. In a panic, the cardinal exclaimed:
“Do you mean we gave our word?”
The Pope broke out laughing, and the friars followed suit.
“Get him out!” The poor cardinal sobbed. “With a Spanish cutter, chop off his tongue!”
Borisa K. seized the hideous hands. The exquisite outfit was put on by the Pope’s fingers, which were edged with expensive jewels.
Boris K. realized there was nothing left to joke about, so he composed himself and accepted the instinctual, aggravating, and a bit confusing sense of survival.
“It isn’t everything! It isn’t everything!” Boris K. yelled. “I observed your coworkers; they sing dithyrambs in your honor, sarcastic tunes, with goat’s hooves and a nightingale’s voice… “Benedict, we miss you, Benedict!” they yell from the ekkyklema (1). “From the Vatican, our buddy!”
And thunder and lightning strike at every praise! You are a divinity to them, a hero!”
As soon as he heard that, the Pope leapt off his papal throne and locked himself in the papal toilet.
He didn’t go out for a few days. Cardinals and Inquisitors kept vigil in front of the Pope’s most private chamber, day and night.
Cardinal Pepe, the first candidate for Pope, was overcome with fear and ordered the Pope to leave chocolate mousse beverages and his favorite dessert, steeped in medical herbs, and told Boris K:
“Go inform the devil that the Pope is refusing to appear before him.”
Boris K. drank whiskey and there he was, already in front of grave sinners, via Phlegethos , suicides transformed into toxic branches, back to Hitler when he bid farewell to Wig Heil, which disgusted him, but he had no choice.
“Just right, then left,” Hitler said, raising his right hand at 45 degrees and tapping his heel on his heel.
Boris K. sends a hand signal and looks up. The Devil smiled at him from there.
“Good evening, Boris K.” Satan was surrounded by a bright nebula, from which he emerged. He had Angelina Jolie’s physique and Scarlett Johansson’s face.
“Do I resemble Grendel’s mother?”
Boris K. detected the odor of burning flesh. That is what Hitler burnt in hell.
“Boris K., we are not wasting time. I read your mind and drained the terror from your body. I want you to see me as an equal who can advise you on what to do. Boris K. cast an eye on Benedict after a long period. “They sold their soul to me for an eon and a half… – the devil calculated – and they haven’t come to me in a decade or two. It’s like paying a soul tax.”
Boris K. advances towards the gorgeous feminine body, tightening her hips as if mesmerized.
“Attacker!”, he was slapped by the devil, who said:
“Capture all of them and bring them to me.”
“Where will my soul go? Boris K. cried out and transformed into a wolf.
“She is currently with me. But don’t worry, I’ll return it to you “He promised Boris K. that the devil will exist outside of human dimensions and that his choices would not be understood, at least not in this story.
He filled his lips and smirked at Boris K., who was in a daze, as he poured a bottle of Russian-standard vodka down his neck, while Caiaphas’ priests and Judas cleaned up Hitler’s ashes.
“Allow him to be the new Pope. When it manifests again, he will have forgotten who he is.”
Boris K. envisioned actual hell plans. While changed into a beast, he squeezed the Pope like a piece of salted steak and took him to hell between his teeth.
On that day, Adolf Hitler was elected Pope by Cardinal Pepe’s body. Boris K. provided hell with numerous elderly Vatican souls in exchange for the devil returning his, this time in the guise of a humanoid hybrid.
Boris K. wept with delight and began to hug the devil when the demon thanked him and returned his soul…
So the devil freed Boris K. and told him:
“Go tell people that the world is a sad place where only I honor my promise.”
An ekkyklêma ( / ˌɛksɪˈkliːmə /; Greek: εκκύκλημα; “roll-out machine”) was a wheeled platform rolled out through a skênê in ancient Greek theatre. It was used to bring interior scenes out into the sight of the audience. Some ancient sources suggest that it may have been revolved or turned.
Phlegethos was the fourth layer of the Nine Hells