Chapter 1.
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A Priest walked in clutching his cross.

“Please Father, take a seat. I understand this may be unusual to you. We appreciate your cooperation.”

The Priest laughed.

“Son, unusual is confessions from a career prostitute.”

The Officer blinked.

“Please, if you would, share the events leading up to your visit here.”

The Officer pushed the microphone towards the Priest.

“Well, lets see… The first day was a normal one. A Saturday, if I recall correctly. Breakfast was eggs. Lunch was some walnuts. Dinner was celery.”

The priest winked and patted his stomach.

“And after that was Sunday, a blessed day. As usual. I went to my church expecting the same-ole, blah, blah, touch this water, make this motion, kiss some babies… And it was. In fact it was totally normal.”

“Explain to me when things changed.”

The Officer’s expression did not change.

“I was in my kitchen looking for something to nourish my soul.”

The Priest winked again and smiled crookedly.

“Turned the TV on and ate some celery. Watched some large breasted news anchor almost get shot.  When, out of nowhere, some patent heathen came knocking at my door asking for celery. A gaunt man, all bones and no meat. Or I should say ALL meat. Couldn’t say he looked like a man. More like a cat. But with less celery. Until he took ALL the celery. He was an asshole in truth, took all my celery. What kind of heathen steals another man’s celery? I feed the children with that celery!”

The Officer leaned in.

“Father, can you tell me more about the celery.”

“It was fine celery. Strong of stalk and tart of taste. Really grade A stuff. I took it down to work one weekend and the guys really loved it. Hell, Jerry the ole’ glutton ate half my harvest's worth!”

“Yes, but father, how do you expect to feed the children when all the celery has run out?”

“That is none of your concern! You know it always works out in the end. And in the end there is always Celery”

“Once Green, always Celery.”

“So It’s been said. Say, while we’re on the topic, set the table will you? Ma will be home soon and she will want food.”

Ma bursts in.

“Howdy boys! Oh Pa, you look gaunt as a stick! Have those damn bully heathens been stealing your celery again?.”

“Don’t worry bout me none marm, I’ll get that celery back, Celery willin’.”

To Be Continued.

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Part 2: The Reckoning

The Priest stood on the banks of Dis. The red river churned as it spewed froth from the massive demon’s mouth. Though it was long since dead, the demon still retained much of the blood it had accumulate in unlife. A fountain of death and greed, the river would not be crossed.

Father sighed. He thought of the celery. He thought of the children.

“Celery save us all…”

Around him many demons were dancing and ejaculating, sacrificing and bathing in the deceased demon’s leaking fluids.

“Filthy beasts.”

He drew the Bible of Celery.

The demons were afraid and withdrew in fright, but soon realized it was just a drawing and continued ejaculating.

“Gotcha!”

The Priest slammed the REAL Bible of Celery down squishing at least 7 demons. He reckoned killing demons was pretty fun, but not really sure if he wanted to dedicate his entire life to it. He was running out of time. His thirty second birthday was coming up soon and his mother would want him to move out soon.

“Celery. I had better find that celery soon or mother will be cross with me.”

A stripe of heat flashed across his face. He had forgotten to close his tabs.

“Oh no. No, no no. Oh, Celery no.”

Father ran home as fast as his legs would take him. He was so sore. So tired. He would be dead soon, he knew. But had vowed to make the best of it. That was twenty years ago. Twenty years from that fateful day. Many a night Father would be awoken with such a start he felt as if he could vomit. Sometimes he did. By the time he got back home his green chinos were covered in vomit. His house was mostly vomit proof but that wouldn’t stop mother from being cross.

“H-hi, Mother.”

“Father.” Mother gave a curt nod and gave him a once over.

“You look like shit… You’re covered in shit, why are you covered in shit?” Her voice was rising at an alarming rate.

“I u-uhm, was killing demons. But I’ll clea-“ He groped for his celery. A jolt of despair ran through him when he remembered it was not there.

“You are absolutely right you’ll clean up! Clean up the porch too, and the living room, the family room, the kitchen, the Dis. Goddamnit Father, even your sister knows not to play in the Dis, and she’s only twenty. You will rue the day you brought this filth into my home Father! Yes you will and I’m tired of telling you. No more threats: it’s time you cooked dinner from now on.”

Mother’s fat stupid lips quaked with such rage that Father both feared and prayed she would have a heart attack.

Twenty Year Old Sister bursts into the room.

“Hey Fath, you get that celery yet.” She smirked.

“Stupid bitch, I was killing demons!”

Father drew the Book of Celery.

“Haha! You will not fool me with such mundane trickeries such as this! I shall bind you in ancient logics!”*

Twenty Year Old Sister began reading Fifty Shades of Grey at an alarming rate.

Father fell to his knees in anguish.

Can this be the end of our hero? Stay tuned!

*Source: The Cabin in the Woods
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Chapter 3: Celery Reborn

With a sweaty brow and sword drawn high our titular priest fought against the bloody currents, slowly edging toward the one thing he cared for most: celery. And celery he would have, if only the dark maw of Satan had not corrupted his once beloved Twenty Year Old Sister.  Our priest began to move faster as the demons of his past, present, and future materialized around him, mocking him  and calling him names Celery would not love. His sword began to shine like a billion imploding suns, melting the ragged flesh from his body. His marrow sizzled and cracked and his once viscera exploded like a children’s bubble bath. His soul screamed and shook the core of the universe sending the many millennia of civilization cowering in the caves from which they dared leave. From the reptilian oligarchy to the insectoid hive mind, civility was reduced to grunts and sneezes. There was a bright flash of unimaginable brightness that burnt any remaining particles desperately hanging to their existence to a pitiful husk of imagination.

And then Father saw Celery.

What was once unknowable became knowable for all but a brief second of pure bliss and horror. Celery was on His throne, a writhing mass of green stalks covered in celestial peanut butter and speckled with the primordial raisins of the lost deities before him.

“Father, we have not much time. I will talk and you will listen.”

Father was listened. But for too long, angering the Celery God.

“Child of Celery, leave here, back to your fleshy sinew. From there hang a right. Go for about three miles and get on the highway, after that get off exit 67.  Once you have done this there is only but a few more miles to go, alas, these will be the bardest. A harrowing place where no Child of Celery is welcome. Fret not small blood sac, for I will be with you.”

Father regained consciousness, only with his new body of Stalk and String. His Body was a vibrant green pulsing with the blood of a human but the rest was wholly vegetative. His clothes were a cheap Peter Pan (tm) peanut butter brown. A cross of raisins hung from his neck.

“Bingo.”

The Priest was ready for a fight.


Click here for one CRAZY trick scientists HATE

CELERY 4: CELERY

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PRAISE HOSANNA

Chapter five

She bop they bop

CHapter six