• An assortment of bodies gathered round the large open stage. There was a rotten stench of some sort. Cacophony filled the still air as men and women discussed what they were about to witness. A man-- a very famous man—had created “The Masterpiece”.
    It had been but thirty-seven long years since he first addressed the public of his final creation.
    “I have come to the decision to put the rest of my strength and will into my final and greatest piece of work! It shall be entitled, ‘The Masterpiece’. When the people’s eyes finally gaze upon my masterpiece, they shall be gazing upon a work of God, the most perfect thing any man could possibly conjure. I have already begun work on it, and I do not guarantee that I will live to finish it. With that said, the next time you shall all see me will be either at my burial, or my final presentation. Audience, do not get your hopes high. Only know that it was I who had gotten the closest to God himself, I who had perfection in my reach. I do guarantee, though, you shall see me, whether it be dead or alive.”
    By now he was near his last breath, an ancient man. But, amazingly, he managed to finish his masterpiece before then by putting all of his time and effort into it every single day following that speech. Before this, the man was known for his beautiful art, his flawless pieces of literature, and his amazing theories and conceptions. Finally, after years of labor, the day had come for his greatest work to be viewed by the public.
    The obnoxious sounds of the petty citizens had been silenced when they noticed the man sluggishly walk towards the center stage, holding a box-shaped item enveloped by a white sheet. The people kept their eyes fixed on the item, repeating to themselves in their heads, “There’s the masterpiece! I see it!”
    A stool was strategically placed in the center stage. He set the mysterious item on top the stool and faced the audience. He cleared his throat,
    “Ladies, gentlemen, I reveal to you all ‘The Masterpiece’.” The sheet was swiftly removed.
    Thick, evil, red pulsating eyeballs were the first feature to catch the attention of the audience. They gasped, scared and confused of what they saw. It was a creature. Its mouth resembled that of a fish, with lips stretching across his face, sharp points of teeth peering out like a grin. The creature had no ears, only empty holes. Its hands were two previously dead human hands, one petite and one quite large. His skin was dry and differed from shades of green and orange on different parts of the body. It was engulfed in stitches, some running from its head to its feet. Its spine protruded in the most unappealing way. Five strings of hair stuck out from its dry, scaly head. The assortment of dead bodies stared blankly in the distance, seemingly lifeless, yet it lived. It thrived!
    A member of the audience screamed out, “Is this some sort of joke? Where is The Masterpiece?” twenty other members jumped in, arguing the same thing. Then, the whole crowd started to quarrel.
    “Oh, this is no masterpiece!”
    “I’ve never seen something so gross in my life!”
    “You’re a mad man! You’re a damned mad man!”
    A fat bearded man called out, “What is this thing supposed to be?!”
    The man held his hands up, attempting to silence the people. The noise finally subsided. He calmly replied, “It is ‘The Masterpiece’. It is perfection, playing God himself. What I have created here, ladies and gentlemen, is life. It is the perfection that is LIFE.”
    The audience started to scream once again.
    “I see nothing but hideousness!”
    “This is no perfection!”
    “It’s disgusting!”
    “It’s revolting”
    The man gave a chuckle, paused, then answered, “I know.”