“Diddy…..” you stammer, “why… why did you leave mommy? Don’t you love mommy?” Suddenly you are wearing a stereotypically 40’s cartoon baby bib, bonnet, soother and rattle. You begin sluwwing youw awws. “Why not woo wuv me Diddy?” He takes a step towards you, the arms that never held your infant form extend: his face, pure love and understanding. Your consciousness begins to collapse into his able arms, capable of wiping away the existential pain of your worthless existence. Just as the physical contact you missed your entire childhood is about to be made, you see the eternal fires of damnation begin to dance within his eyes. The arms and fingers attached to them begin to elongate demonically as they wrap around your body without making physical contact. His tongue darts out, forked, a horrific hiss emits through vampire teeth. You collapse and roll through vapid cloud like matter, above: his roar turns into laughter, hovering on the edge of agony. The complexity of your sub-conscious’ simultaneous hatred of, and yet desire to connect with your long lost father interpolates this schizophrenic display fading away into the forgotten distance of your dream-scape. You fever-dreamishly ponder the psychological significance of this until the pressing fear of your body pressing into something solid at terminal velocity supersedes the vat of consciousness-forming emotional turmoil you were born into. Squish; you feel as your body is cushioned with a significant rush of pressure surprisingly lacking pain. You roll off, seeing beside you a human sized Earth Angel cushioning your fall.
“Hello child.” He says in a deep, slow, 80’s Hollywood children’s movie voice of wisdom. “All these years, it is I you have been waiting for. Worry not about matters of the flesh child. Spiritually; I am your father.”
You stare at the giant Earth Angel numbly. How do you respond to this?


If you follow your first instinct to shout “You’re not my father! It can’t be true!” before continuing your plummet to some unseen fate, turn to page COPYRIGHT BRO! WHOA!


If you choose to follow your second instinct which is to jump the precious Earth Angel and squish it with all the hugs you’ve saved up from your unloved childhood turn to page, AWW, SO SWEET! HE CAN PRETEND TO LOVE!


If you instead rely on your sense of logic and reason to take a step back and cautiously assess this situation turn to page FOLLOWING THE PATH OF YOUR FATHER….. REASON AND SCIENCE!