All was silent, but the sound of the wind and a strange, gentle, flapping noise.
"Hello?" asked Milton. "Who's there?"
But there was no response, just the flapping noise, which grew ever louder.
"Satan? Is it you? Have you come for me?" shouted Milton into the
darkness. "Well you can go back to hell! You'll never take ..."
"SILENCE!" boomed a deep voice, silencing Milton, who shrunk into his
chair shivering in fear. "I am no devil! I am ... THE MOTH OF JOY!
BEHOLD MY BEAUTY!"
And at that, the room filled with a thousand colors. Milton looked up
in awe as before him flew a giant, glowing moth, its splendor
illuminating the room like the northern lights.
"What ... who ... why are you here?" peeped an awe-struck Milton.
"I am here to answer your prayers, Milton Hobblegrove," said the Moth
in a reassuring voice. "I know how you suffer, my friend. And I can
"Oh, thank you, Moth of Joy! Thank you so much!" Milton was on the
verge of tears. "For decades I have suffered from this awful disease.
Even when my pills took effect, in the back of my mind I always worried
that one day it would come back. That one day, the lust for women would
overcome me once again, like it did in the old days after the war! Oh
please, give me your cure, oh mighty moth spirit! Save my soul before I
leave this world!"
Milton oozed off his chair and knelt beneath the Moth of Joy, awaiting his holy cure.
"Yes, Milton Hobblegrove, I can heal you," said the Moth. "But you must do exactly what I say."
"Yes, anything to be free of this curse," exclaimed Milton, as he
fought off thoughts of writhing, barely legal teenage girls.
"In order to be free, in order to find your salvation, there is one thing you must do."
"What, what must I do, oh great spirit?"
"You must ... EAT MY BALLS!"
And at that the room filled with a shimmering white light, so brilliant
that Milton was momentarily blinded. When the light toned down, the
Moth of Joy was directly in front of Milton, just a few inches from his
"What?!" stammered Milton. "Eat your what? How dare you speak that way
to me! I have suffered all these years, just for serving my country,
and this is what I get? Damn you, moth, damn you to hell!"
"Wait, my friend," said the moth as he stared calmly into Milton's
quivering eyes. "Hear me out. I know your pain. For ages I have been
afflicted with the same sickness. For thousands of years I have been
forced to fly across this world, mating constantly with every being who
cries out in need of help. For that is my duty. The Moth of Joy exists
to spread joy across the world, and answer the prayers of those in
need. Unfortunately, you humans are such filthy perverts, all you ever
pray for is sex. Oh, the shameful acts I have been forced to commit,
only to satisfy the perverse cravings of humanity. But now, now it
shall all come to an end. What a perfect end it shall be, as we each
ask for the same thing — freedom from the sins of the flesh."
Milton was speechless. It was as if the moth was speaking to his very
soul. He gazed into the moth's eyes, knowing that soon, his troubles
would be over.
"Milton, now, through the ultimate irony, our torture will end. I am
sorry it has to happen this way, for I know it will not be pleasant for
you, but you must eat my balls. Yes, my balls, for that is where my
magical sex powers lie. When they are gone, never again will I have to
please another insufferable degenerate, for never again will I be able
to do so. And you, Milton, you will be cured of your disease through
the absorbing of my greatness."
"Yes, I see it all now, oh great Moth of Joy," said Milton. "I will
help you, and by doing so, gain my own salvation. But let me first ask
you something. Isn't there an easier way of doing this?"
"Can't you just, you know, cut them off yourself, or have them removed,
and then maybe we could get some kind of magical extract from them
which I could then inject ..."
"No, no, no, no," said the moth, somewhat frustrated. "Listen, Milton,
do you want to get better, or do you want to sit there and jerk off to
the E Channel? 'Cause I'll tell you, they don't let 92-year-old
perverts into heaven. Trust me, man, I know."
"No, I do, I want to be cured. But there must be a better way. I mean,"
Milton looked around the room. "I've never done any, you know, gay
stuff. Sure, I've thought about it, maybe I touched a guy's ass by
accident during a group session back in the days, but you know, that's
just not my thing."
"Oh, I see," said the moth, frowning. "Another homophobe, huh?"
"No, it's not that. You can do whatever you want. It's a free world."
"What then, Milton? My balls aren't good enough for you?"
"No, no, I didn't say that."
"Well, then, let's go, man! What's the holdup?"
"But, well, I just ... ah fuck it."
And at that, Milton began to slowly eat the Moth of Joy's magical balls.
Three months later, the two were seen frolicking together at a hotspot in South Beach.