The Vengeance of Rome

THIRTY

I piss in Hitler’s mouth.

I spread my legs so that I look directly down on Hitler’s white face.

I discharge a forceful stream of pale green-yellow urine. The urine soaks into his dark, matted hair. It glistens in his moustache. It runs down his chin, his ears, his neck and over his narrow chest, darkening the carpet. His breath becomes an eager gasp.

—Open your mouth, Yidslime.

The mouth obeys. An independent entity.

—Mummy.

—Bad dirty Yidboy, dirty little slimeyboy. Drink it, queerboy. Drink it, wankerboy. Bad, bad, baddy boy. Drink it all up. Nasty, nasty, dirty boy.

I piss into the black depths. The liquid splashes loudly against his teeth, and makes a hollow sound as it cascades down the black void of his throat and into his skull.

—Yum-yum.