False Artists

As we walked down the hill away from the pools of boiling shit, we came upon a creature that was half-man and half bull. "Oh good, I was scared we'd have to walk all over the damn floodplain to find one of these people," Faulkner said. We approached the minotaur, who was piling up stones and trying to make the ledge that it was attached to stand out from the rest of the flood plain. It wasn't working. "Oh hi! Don't you just love what I've done with these pebbles?" It said to Faulkner and I. "You mean the rocks you put into a pile around you? What difference does it make?" I asked. Faulkner snickered and we both took a swig from the flask while watching the minotaur grow sad and begin to rearrange the pile. "Basically, these are people who try really hard to stand out from others in life by buying all kinds of stupid crap like wacky clothing or coloring their hair. They get into mystical stuff and spirituality without really understanding a word of it. A lot of artists end up like this. If we had time I'd take you over to this one guy who looks like cousin It from the Adam's family. Fucking covered in dreads for all time, is all I have to say." The minotaur was still trying to make the pile into an interesting shape and I have to admit I felt kinda bad for the poor thing. "Listen, I'm sorry about what I said with the rocks and all. It's really a very nice pile...in Hell...where you're going to be forever. Oh fuck it, I hated people like you. We all want attention and everything...and I guess now that you're half bull, you'll finally get it." We departed without another word, despite the cries from the minotaur for us to see what it had done with the pile this time.