theme "opulent" title "unicorn adrenal gland" in misc. flash fiction

You’re probably familiar with Lent, the six weeks from Ash Wednesday to Easter (especially for Catholics) where one is supposed to fast and pick at least one luxury to give up. The hope being self-deprivation will focus your time upon contemplating Jesus or God or the turning of seasons or chocolate bunnies or whatever. I am familiar with it myself, as I have an “I” at the end of my surname, in which case you tend to be either Catholic or Shinto. As I can barely tell kami from origami, it turns out that I am indeed nominally Catholic.

My non-observant Jewish friends call themselves “culturally Jewish” and I’ve always liked that, I always want to call myself “culturally Catholic agnostic” but it never sticks, no one ever knows quite what it means. Sometimes I’ll say “lapsed Catholic” but that implies I’m just taking a break and next month I’ll be back to having aging bachelors wave incense at me on Sundays again.

Other times I’ll say I’m a “recovering Catholic” in the fashion of Alcoholics Anonymous which also suggests a risk of return but at least pats me on the back for keeping up the fight. Mostly I’ll say my “Catholicism’s in remission” in oncological terms, that all the pomp and circumscription, silliness and scandal, guilt and horror, I have no visible trace remaining but must remain forever vigilant. I call myself a “culturally Catholic agnostic” but if pressed, I’ll admit to an infection I hope never comes back. Anyway.

You’re familiar with Lent but did you know the rich celebrate its equal-and-opposite over those same six weeks, a ritual that they call Opulent? In honor of their patron saint Caligula and the six-week orgy he’s said to have endured without a second of sleep, those idling wealthiest, the generationally powerful engage in all sorts of grandiose opulence. They gorge upon the meat of species we think extinct, bred in secret solely for the purpose of clandestine cuisine, abuse drugs we can’t prove exist like Meta-Cocaine or Unicorn Adrenal Gland, which they just call “ooag”. “Pass a needle of ooag, Liz!” Bill Gates might say to England’s Queen during Opulent.

During the time of Opulent, they buy whole bays worth of yachts just to shoot missiles at while they laugh, laughing all the louder knowing that us poor suckers are laying off hamburgers and quitting coffee for the month. Movie stars dislodge their jaws to eat human babies whole while us rubes try to give up chocolate. Captains of industry breed sex-centaurs just for Opulent and we’re expected to stick to Friday cod instead.

For Lent this year, I’m going to stop keeping the secret of Opulent and in turn, I imagine that for Opulent, Oprah and the Pope will grind my bones to make their party cakes, but it will be worth getting the truth out there. All I can hope is that they’ll shoot me up with ooag to lessen the pain before they do the deed.