Acting the devil

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The effect of getting hit on the head is amazing

After talking about how explaining he was a professional actor gets you out of tight spots, here our columnist Boyd Clack shows how once again it got him out of a difficult situation. 

I got hit on the head by a falling branch during a storm a few years back – I was knocked unconscious, in fact It was touch and go.

I ‘awoke’ in a dark forest of gnarled trees.

Fear drives you on

Though the sky was a blood red I knew that it was night and I stumbled through the undergrowth not knowing where I was or where I was going.

Some fear drove me on.

My legs and arms were torn at by thorns and the jagged edges of rocks. The trees were like black demons silhouetted as they were against the redness of the sky. It was as if I was being watched by a multitude of eyes.

A terrifying sight was beheld…

I rushed on until I came to a clearing.

It appeared to be a small canyon, ancient with the ruins of stone buildings that had been hewn from the rock, forming a pathway towards a huge statue of a demonic head.

The mouth was gaping and the eyes wide and fiery. There was an overwhelming stench of evil.

Despite this I was drawn to the figure and I passed men and women naked and bloody hanging from hooks embedded deep in the rock on either side. They were being prodded with spears and forks by monstrous imp-like beings.

Red hot pokers have a number of uses

I saw people having their anuses penetrated with red hot pokers. Huge thick serpents slithered from men’s throats. A woman was being eaten by men with the heads of vultures. There were men and women being turned on spits above open fires.

An old man was hung upside down as a wolf devoured his face. Eyes were being burned out with smouldering pointed sticks, tongues torn out with tongs.

The stench became unbearable. It was burning flesh. The screaming of the tormented was unspeakable.

Worship took place in a huge cathedral

I stopped in front of the head. It was as if I had been sent to prostrate myself, to worship the obscene thing here in this accursed Cathedral.

It spoke: “You come here to my kingdom, to my home to be judged on your pathetic life in the world of sunlight and wind”.

I told him that I was unaware of this. I said the last thing I recalled was walking through the park with my dog Tina.

Boyd had an interesting conversation

It said:  “Pathetic, weak fool! None of that matters any more. You will spend eternity in a pit of unimaginable pain. Your soul will burn to the black music of human suffering. Many have come before you each with a tale to tell. They squirm and dissemble, they beg, they implore but nothing will save them. Nothing will save you Boyd Clack! Oh yes I know who you are! I have watched you since the dawn of time and now, now at last you are mine!!

Then he laughed.

I told him I was a professional actor and he let me go.


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Boyd is a writer, musician and cult TV personality.


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