Horoscopes: II

Scorpio, you will be called up to defend the Earth from strange, marshmallow, mushroom men from beyond the moon. Don’t fuck it up. Those things are really gross.

Sagittarius, remember: if you had three hands, you could mediate your own arm wrestling matches. Then you’d be doing something.

Capricorn, I can only assume that you were behind the invention of candy corn. Goddamn you to hell.

Aquarius, the velvet cape you recently purchased was stolen from a dead man and will allow you to enter the Underworld, where everyone will snicker at what a dandy you’ve become.

Pisces, your muscles bulge with the power of many oxen and yet you remain standing there, waiting for me to take out the trash.

Aries, the trees have been whispering against you. Luckily, they’re just fucking trees. Go about your business.

Taurus, a man in a beige overcoat will ask you for a piece of chewing gum. Run away screaming about bloodless eyes and webbed fingers. This will alarm him and help cull his nasty habit of spitting gum on the sidewalk.

Gemini, today you are a man. Sorry about that, ladies. It will be weird at first. Try not to pee everywhere.

Cancer, there is no excuse for your behavior. Return the gorilla to the zoo and return the cowboy hat to the country-western boot store.

Leo, your skeleton will begin to dream its own dreams. Do not be alarmed. They will mostly be about driving race cars and drinking martinis in Italy.

Virgo, you will finally invent a thinking-feeling robot. Thanks for dooming us all, asshole.

Libra, you will begin to disappear. First your fingers. Then your toes. That’s really it. You will be completely functional. Just wear some shoes and a light liner glove and no one will ever know.

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