The Story
There was once a time when a horde of malevolent beings gathered to forge a weapon of mass destruction. But it couldn’t be just any weapon. It had to infiltrate society so subtly that it wouldn’t spark even the faintest flicker of suspicion among those unfortunate souls predestined to suffer for all eternity.
Among the infernal design requirements was one particularly insidious specification: the device had to masquerade as an instrument of liberation. That way, those doomed to ultimate torment would come to regard it as an absolute necessity.
But the project ventured far beyond mere wickedness. Its chaotic potential was ingeniously concealed beneath a green cloak of environmental virtue. Besides promising freedom, this hellish contraption would also become synonymous with saving the planet. The poor pandas would be rescued, and Greta would finally stop nagging everyone.
The list of specifications concluded with one final infernal detail: a trident. Without paying homage to Hell’s sacred three-pronged emblem, the creation could never achieve its full destructive potential.
And so, by following every single step of the diabolical assembly line to the letter, the astonishingly demonic result finally emerged: the infamous three-wheeled cargo bicycle, or The Pegasus of the Apocalypse, as it came to be known among the few lucky survivors unfortunate enough to become intimately acquainted with it.
The factories of darkness spread across the Earth, aided by humans who had absolutely no idea of the malevolent power hidden within the artifact they had been entrusted to build.
The Addams Family was initially approached to lead the enterprise, but they were horrified after the prototype’s first test runs. They immediately declined the offer and decided to pursue something considerably less painful instead: bungee jumping by the testicles.
Sauron, on the other hand, accepted the proposal without the slightest hesitation, condemning Middle-earth to an age of such unbearable suffering that the Elves abandoned it altogether in search of somewhere safer to live. Most eventually found peace in Rio de Janeiro, comfortably far away from both that unstable beast and Sauron himself. They also appreciated finally having a perfectly legitimate excuse never to wear a ring again.
Leonardo da Vinci encountered the Pegasus while still a child and spent years obsessively trying to design a military-grade rival worthy of challenging it. He failed spectacularly, but at least managed to make a few coins selling his inventions to Morticia Addams, who was looking for safe toys for Wednesday while waiting for Gomez to be discharged from the psychiatric ICU.
Achilles was another unfortunate soul to experience the wrath of the three wheels. After defeating Hector, the mighty warrior, still consumed by rage, opened a portal to the underworld, through which the Doom Guy, assisted by the legions of Hell, hurled the accursed Pegasus into the mortal realm before disappearing without a trace. Believing it would be a glorious victory parade, Achilles tied Hector’s body to the Pegasus and set off in triumph. The humiliating crash left his foot so grotesquely swollen that his heel became an embarrassingly obvious target.
I, too, had the profound misfortune of experiencing the supreme power of the Pegasus of the Apocalypse.
It was a Saturday afternoon. The kids, thrilled by the prospect of an exciting family expedition to the local supermarket, launched a full-scale lobbying campaign to convince me, despite my overwhelming exhaustion, to take them aboard the Pegasus.
On the way back, just a few yards from home, fatigue finally caught up with me. In a desperate attempt to maintain our blistering bottle-cap-racing pace, I pushed harder on the pedals. The moment I drove my left foot against that Satan-forged pedal, the Inverted Triangle of Destruction, now less stable than menstruating plutonium, collapsed onto its side and proceeded to perform an elegant, high-speed slide across what engineers commonly refer to as 100-grit sandpaper, but civilians insist on calling asphalt.
The children, thankfully wearing helmets and seat belts, walked away completely unharmed. The asphalt, on the other hand, ended up with a few erythrocyte stains, but I’m happy to report it’s making a full recovery.
Days have gone by, and I still climb stairs like a cowboy who just lost an argument with a cactus. I swear I can feel the Cargo Carrier of Satan grinning with pure, malicious satisfaction as it sits in the garage, patiently waiting for its replacement part before resuming its campaign of terror. Hades sold me one at a discount, though business hasn’t been easy for him ever since Saruman entered the market with his outrageously cheap Uruk-hai labor force.
After polishing the asphalt with a homemade blend of flesh and dignity, I found myself reflecting on life. I’d always hoped to leave my mark on future generations—but this wasn’t exactly the kind of mark I had in mind. The People Grinder, on the other hand, wears its battle scars with unmistakable pride.
The blood pact has been sealed.
The Song
(Verse 1)
There came a day the devils swore
To forge a beast unlike before.
Not built with fire, steel, or flame,
But something wearing freedom’s name.
They wrapped it in a coat of green,
The kind that makes all sinners clean.
“Save the forests, save the skies!”
They whispered softly through their lies.
(Chorus)
Ride away, ride away,
On the Pegasus of Doom.
Three wheels spinning, smiling wide,
Marching straight toward your tomb.
Paint it bright and call it hope,
Tell the world it’s safe and wise.
Every mile it steals your soul,
While innocence believes the lies.
(Verse 2)
Da Vinci sketched from dawn till night,
To build a rival fit to fight.
He failed, of course, but made a wage,
Selling toys through history’s page.
The Addams Family took one glance,
Refused to give the beast a chance.
“Safer things exist,” they cried,
“Like jumping with your pride untied.”
(Verse 3)
Sauron smiled and signed the scroll,
Delighted by its destined role.
The Elves abandoned Middle-earth,
Seeking somewhere filled with mirth.
Rio welcomed every one,
Far from darkness, far from One.
No more rings upon their hands.
Just safer shores and warmer sands.
(Chorus)
Ride away, ride away,
On the Pegasus of Doom.
Three wheels spinning, smiling wide,
Marching straight toward your tomb.
Paint it bright and call it hope,
Tell the world it’s safe and wise.
Every mile it steals your soul,
While innocence believes the lies.
(Bridge)
Achilles thought he’d found his day,
To drag brave Hector home in sway.
The wheels betrayed the hero’s pride;
His swollen heel could never hide.
Hades laughed and closed the gate.
Even Hell feared such a fate.
(Verse 4)
Then came my own unlucky ride,
With laughing children by my side.
The market trip was calm and sweet…
Until that cursed left-foot beat.
The Inverted Triangle fell,
Sliding straight through asphalt Hell.
Helmets saved the little crew;
My dignity? It never grew.
The road wore red, but healed just fine.
My knees still curse that grand design.
(Final Chorus)
Ride away, ride away,
On the Pegasus of Doom.
Smile beneath its cheerful paint;
Hidden waits your certain gloom.
Days have passed—I climb the stairs
Like every step’s my final test.
The People Grinder waits in silence,
Patient for another quest.
(Outro)
Some leave statues.
Some leave songs.
Some leave stories to be told.
I left skin upon the pavement…
And sealed a blood pact with a three-wheeled monster.