Distributio (dis-tri-bu’-ti-o): (1) Assigning roles among or specifying the duties of a list of people, sometimes accompanied by a conclusion. (2) Sometimes this term is simply a synonym for diaeresis or merismus, which are more general figures involving division.
“Ok Eddie, go to the grocery store and get the stuff we need. Max, you make sure the car is ready to go. I’ll go the the liquor store and get four liters vodka & we’re off on our road trip.
I think we can ride across country in 3 days. I did it back in the 60s in a Volkswagen van. We can do it now in my Subaru.“
We took off from Summit, New Jersey the next morning around around 5 a.m. We each had a shot of vodka and swore we’d have a good time. We were driving like a bat out of hell. We made it to Arkansas around 10 p.m. and checked into a motel—Twilight Zone. The room smelled like garlic, the beds were saggy and there was a picture of Ronald Regan hanging crooked on the wall. It was very creepy. He had destroyed Social Security by taxing it and my grandparents hated him. I tried to take the picture off the wall but it wouldn’t budge. So, I hung my sweatshirt over it so I couldn’t see it. That made me feel better.
We all fell asleep around 11.00. I woke up around 2.00. I heard a dripping sound—it was coming from the bathroom. It sent chills down my spine, but it only lasted a couple of seconds. I looked in at the sink, and it was half-filled with blood. I screamed and ran out of the bathroom. I woke up Eddy and Max. They went into the bathroom to look. Max came out with blood dripping from his chin and told me to “shut the fu*k up” or he’d drain me. Eddie agreed. I went back in the bathroom and the sink was drained—no trace of blood. Then, I got the idea that Max was fooling around with our hot sauce, putting it on his chin. So I thought it was a joke. I went back to sleep. I woke up again around 3.30. Max was leaning over my bed, right up in my face. His breath smelled like rotting roadkill. Eddie was standing behind Max with bone saw in his hand. Between the bone saw and the stink of Max’s breath, I came to the conclusion something was wrong. Max and Eddie were drooling. Their teeth had all grown to canine teeth, filling their mouths with flesh rippers capable of tearing people apart.
I tried to scream for help, but nothing came out of my mouth—no sound, no words, no nothing. Then I tried to get out of my bed and I couldn’t move—I was paralyzed. The stink coming out of Max’s mouth was going to make throw up. Then, he said in a whisper: “Come with us.” I was levitated off my bed and floated behind them out the door. They walked and I floated across the road and we went into the woods. Dawn was breaking—maybe my “friends” would snap out and start acting normal. It didn’t happen.
My “friends” started eating me. Max took a bite out my upper arm and laughed and chewed while I screamed in pain. I was bleeding profusely. I was sure I was going to bleed to death. Eddie bit off one of my fingers and sucked on it like a popsicle. Ronald Regan suddenly appeared, He laughed, and yelled “Speak!” and all three of them disappeared. I yelled “Help!” and and the motel proprietor found me. He called 911. The ambulance got there quickly and I was taken to the hospital. I told them I had been mauled by a bear when I left the motel to watch the sunrise.
Two weeks later, I met Eddie and Max at “Booglin” our favorite club. We “got down” and had a great time swingin’ with the babes and drinkin’. I didn’t mention the Arkansas incident. They were such nice guys. I couldn’t figure out what had triggered their behavior. Then I realized that Ronald Regan was in the picture on the wall and had made an appearance in the woods. He had the power to make normal people into flesh eaters ripping apart their fellow humans. I remember now that the Twilight Zone motel had Tump campaign signs driven in the ground in front. Could there be a connection? Now, I thought Trump was going to urge his followers to eat his opponents, My guess is that widespread flesh eating will start to happen in early November, and culminate outside polling places on Election Day. I asked Eddie and Max what they thought. They laughed and wiped the the backs of their hands across their mouths.
Definition courtesy of “Silva Rhetoricae” (rhetoric.byu.edu)
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