Existence Womb (53)

   
   "Existence Womb (53)"
    
   Buck was dreaming fondly of Roger the Dodger, and how the darling Dallas Cowboy Cheerleaders of the late 1970's were featured, briefly, on the LOVE BOAT show.  He preferred TAXI and the Hebrew neurosis of an introspective cab driver, who when asked what he did for a living, simply and humbly voiced:  "I'm a cab driver."
   Jews and Muslims pissed at each other--same God.  Now all the taxi drivers are Turks, Arabs, or Persians, whatever.  Is this a modern reason for contempt?   
   Next, Buck went into the rapid and mammalian REM sleep, which he kinda/sorta was already experiencing, yet science is in the Dark Ages today, yet boasts its false axioms; regardless, he remembered when the American Government Spooks crookedly captured him after a sinister shot from a .38 Special with a sultry silver bullet; indeed--it was "sultry" motherfucker, as Sam Jackson declares ubiquitously in every word breathed from the scripts of his films.  Sam Adams was a Brewmaster and part of the Sons of Liberty.  Sam Jackson was a Motherfucker, and part of a son of a bitch--in a few of his films; on the contrary, he can be the benevolent hero--what the hell am I saying?
  Anyway, silver, the Moon, and even Wolfsbane, a European plant and name of an English rock and heavy metal band had no effect on him shifting werewolfways.  It was a Divine Infusion of the Holy Spirit, a prayer from the Black Madonna to give the honoring Templar a power to defend Her Son.  
   So, they gave him a Haloperidol Injection, which stops the garden-variety werewolf from shifting--one cursed or brutally bitten.  No effect; moreover, Haldol is not approved for aging patients with dementia-related psychosis.  But it still had no effect.  Buck was an anomaly.  A Jack London drifter, with many varying opinions before his tail wagged for the Living, Most Potent God--the Abrahamic God, gelling with a singular Son, the Holy Ghost's glimmering-hued awesome and all the rest of that cool, mystical crap--but, it was all freaking real!
   He looked at the stupid prison guard, saying meekly but firmly:  "Is inutilis."
   Got clubbed.  Found the Good Ghost--healed; then, Luke showed up.  The good doctor--with a plan of escape.  A friendly, scholarly physician--somebody who gives a shit about asymmetrical souls--them Shapeless Divine.