Dear me! O gracious heav’n above! Never have mine eyes beheld a depiction of depravity more complete and all-consuming as that which is entitled “The Human Centipede, Part the Second: A Dramatic Photoplay”!
What vile mind of man could have conceived such an assemblage of distasteful images, strung together and exhibited by means of a “moving-picture” device?
More pertinently, to what end might an artist so endeavour? Hath he lost a wager? Is it his intention to nauseate his patrons? Wherefore is this his chosen milieu?
The protagonist of this putrid picture-drama is a rotund dwarf not unlike one of Charles Dickens’s many amusing creations, notwithstanding the obscene fellow in question is dull of brain and lascivious of character. His actions are most indecent for viewing in any public setting, let alone one at which members of the fairer sex are present. How my heart leapt within me when this loathsome toadstool removed his private member from his trousers, wrapt it about with a measure of sanding-paper, and proceeded to stimulate it vigorously with his hand!
No prude am I, and yet such manifestations do offend my sensibilities! I say again, great offense is mine!
Well may you imagine my chagrin when this person — I dare not call him a “gentleman,” for of such designation he is unworthy — subsequently used these same hands to wield an iron truncheon with which he did most severely beat his own mother about the head, to the extent that the female parent did succumb to the embrace of death. I fear’d lest the gentlewomen in attendance should faint dead away from the shock of it!
This is to say nothing of the man’s central preoccupation; his raison d’etre, as it were; which I shall attempt to describe forthwith. Influenced by another photoplay which he has witnessed, the man labours to obtain twelve able-bodied persons of either sex upon whom he may practice his unnatural desires, the end result of which is to affix them one to another insomuch that they begin to take on the likeness of a multi-segmented crawling creature — a “human centipede,” so to speak.
But forestall your objections, gentle reader, if you dare! For I have not yet revealed to you the exact manner by which the man doth effect his pernicious plan, which details I can scarcely dismiss from the forefront of my recollection.
The desire of this man is that his twelve unwilling participants should be sewn together in such fashion as that the mouth of one shall be stitch’d to the posterior orifice of the one in front of him; and that person’s mouth attached to the posterior orifice of the one in front of him; et cetera; for the length of twelve persons.
O cavalcade of horrors! O carousel of nightmares!
Were this not ribaldry enough for such debased persons as would choose to view monstrous entertainment of this nature, the playwright thence carries his pernicious vision to its medically logical conclusion; viz., when the hapless soul at the locomotive end of this diabolical train is constrained by nature to void his bowels, he hath no alternative but to deposit his ordure directly from his alimentary canal into the accurst maw of the person bestitched to his nether end; and that person, likewise, cannot but excrete his own leavings into the gullet behind him; and so forth.
I shall spare you descriptions of the man’s lesser crimes against humanity, which include a primitive form of dentistry and a style of midwifery that is, at best, unorthodox.
I shall also omit the portion of the narrative which pertained to barbed-wire and the act of love.
Would that my senses had not sponged up the unsavory visions bestrewn across the motion-picture screen yesternight. To cleanse these nefarious images from my mind I shall now seek out lighter diversion, in the form of another photoplay of great renown, which I believe is a Serbian film.
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