Chapter 8

VIII
Concerning Doctor Faustus' Intended
Marriage

Thus Doktor Faustus lived the lazy, purposeless and slothful life of a pig and a sow and a hog, concerned only with satisfying his lowest desires, wallowing in his own filth and occasionally butting his head against a wall, obeying neither the laws of heaven nor earth, debauched, sensualized and raked, hedonized, epicured and voluptualized, until the day came that must come to all soul-sold, God-abandoned doom-bound men: Faustus arrived at the determination to enter into matrimony.

Upon revealing his plan to Mephostopholes, the famulus turned red and shook and exuded a horrid sulfurous perscipation, and pulled his hair and screamed, “Have you entirely forgot your promissio in which you vowed enmity to God and all His laws and Precepts? Do you not know that matrimony is a work of the Lord God and to enter into it now after making to the Devil all the promises you made is liked unto slapping him in the face with a herring? Oh my sweet Doktor, you do not want to slap the devil in the face with a herring. Not to mention: Why would you want to enter into a state that brings with it nothing but unquiet, antipathy, anger and strife?”

Doctor Faustus pondered over the various sides of the issue while his famulus ranted on and on and at last pronounced, “I will wed, come what may.”

In the moment he spoke those words, he ducked.

In that very instant a horrible storm wind did fall upon the house like the foot of an angered elephant and the walls shook and the doors leapt from their hooks and the books from their shelves and the china from their cupboards and Wagner fell off the couch and objects flew through the air, narrowly missing Faust’s skull, and the rooms were filled with blazing searing heat as if everything would shortly curl up into pure ashes.

Doktor Faustus propelled himself on all fours toward the door, but strong hands caught his feet and catapulted him back into the parlor with such force that he thought he must surely die. Everywhere, fires had sprung up, and if his living quarters were a pigsty before, surely it was the very picture of hell now, yet still Faust held fast and kept his mouth shut. Suddenly, a monster appeared that filled the fiery room. It was crimson red with a thousand horns and a thousand sharp teeth in a thousand snapping jaws, it could only be the Devil himself, and from its thousand jaws it screamed at Faust in a horrible voice that shook the house worse that the mightiest winds:

“Thou wouldst scoff at me, o Man?” thundered the horrible apparition, “Thou wouldst scoff at me?”

But still Doktor Faustus held fast and gave no answer, but only kept this eyes shut, until, after a while, Mephostophiles was spent, and the monster fled and the fires disappeared and all returned once more to as it had always been, for it was all but an illusion, and there sat Mephostophiles, his gray monk’s head between his clawed hands, and asked, “My sweet Faust, why in the name of all that is good about hell do you insist upon marrying?”

Thereupon Doktor Faust shrugged his shoulders and said, “What’s a man to do? Every man’s got to get a little…”, but the last word he mumbled.

“A little what?” asked Mephostophiles, puzzled.

“You know. A little… conjugativality.”

“A little what?”

“Some intercoursiousness.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“A shot of good old-fashioned nuptialality.”

“Nup-cha-what?”

“Some good clean wholesome fun.”

“Good clean…? What are you talking about?”

“You know – a little push and pull, the old shake and titter.”

“Shake and what?”

“I want to dip the donkey in the well, run the goat around the henhouse, drop the orphan into the pit, give the pig a good mud snuggle; I need a woman to swallow the monkey’s pudding, bite the elephant’s tail, dance the dance of the mini-may-pole.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I want to get my third leg in a titty race!”

“Are you talking about sex? Is that what you want?”

“Where I come from, we don’t use that exact expression, but…”

“My sweet Faust! Have you taken leave of your senses? You have made a pact with the devil! You don’t need to marry to get sex!”

“But surely… marriage is how all my friends… how else…”

“My dear Faust, if you expect to get even a fraction of the fun you can get out of this deal, you have to loosen up! Getting married just for sex? You have all kinds of inhibitions, don’t you? Someday, we will invent an entire profession just to deal with people like you. But look. Sex I can get you. Wait here.”

With those words and a voluminous cloud of sulpher, Mephostophiles.

Only a few minutes later there sounded a knock on Faust’s front door. There stood a beautiful woman in long, rustling skirts out to here and a bodice up to here and a powdered wig piled so high on her head another woman could have been hiding in there. She said, “Hello Doktor Faust, sweetheart, I believe you requested a third pig in a titty puddle?”

“The expression, I believe, is entering my third leg in a titty race.”

“That too,” giggled the refined lady, whose voluptuous body seemed to shake and shiver with every breath she took.

Doctor Faustus’ heart trembled and that night he experienced pleasures and joys of such a libidinousness and debaucherous nature that he indeed learned of a world he had never before dreamed could exist

And the next night also, another woman came to him, and he soon realized that there would be a never-ending stream of them from now on, until his pact with the devil ended in 24 years, and in the morning he told her, “Tonight, send a red-head.”

And lo, that night a red-head knocked at his door, and the next night, filled with lusts and his desires spiraling out of control, he said, “Tomorrow night, send a brunette and a blonde!”

And the next night two ladies, a brunette and blonde, did come, and the night thereafter Faust debauched four young ladies in a single night, and the night thereafter he ruined took the virginity of a fat black-haired wench while watching a bald woman debauch her hairy sister, and after that he requested a family of debased and perverted men and women with a trained dog, all of whom went at each other while he watched and played with three pairs of twins.

And when, during the day, he reported to Mephostophiles his misdeeds of the night before, the famulus made suggestions: “I know how to get a woman with three breasts,” he said. And when Faust tired of women with three breasts, his famulus generously brought him women with three breasts and two tongues, then women with an extra vagina on her leg where her armpit should have been, then a woman with two breasts in front and another two in back and three legs with two vaginas and an extra mouth on the back of her head.”

That was when Faust pondered his ways and asked Mephostophiles, “You know, anatomically speaking, that last woman, who was certainly very charming, was nothing less than a miracle.”

Thereupon his spirit gave no answer. That made Faust a little bit nervous.

“Tell me, O Spirit, where you do find such women?”

“Oh, here and there”, said the gray monk. “Any other requests? I should be going.”

“Wait. You say here and there. Where specifically?”

“You wouldn’t know the place, I’m sure”, said Mephostophiles. “Besides, even we demons have to have out little secrets.”

Faust thought about it for a while, then said, “Could you get me a woman with an elephant’s head and the udder of a cow?”

Mephostophiles said, “Now you’re using your imagination. I like that.”

In that moment, Faust understood all, and he could no longer hold in the voluminous lunch he had injested, but vomited it all out on the living room floor, while Wagner scrambled for higher ground. “It’s you!” roared Faust, “It was you all the time! Admit it, debased and perverted creature, treacherous spawn of hell!”

“That’s not what you said last night”, said the spirit. “Besides, I only wanted to give you want you wanted”, but Faust was no longer listening.

From then on, their relationship was different.