Dr Anthonee Phauche' and the Antichrist
In the spirit of Halloween, a frightful and gory tale of the darkest of lords and the greatest of minions reminiscing over dinner and cocktails
The scene is an historic Georgetown pub called the Boodle Cumshaw, where everybody who is anybody in Washington DC goes from time to time, to be seen, to network and to make deals. There are pictures on the walls going back to the William Howard Taft administration, and memorabilia from all over the world people have donated. The place is crowded with bric-a-brac much of it decadent, and people.
Every head in the room would normally turn when Dr Anthonee Phauche’ enters. But Dr Phauche’ and his friend seemed not to be noticed at all. They sat down in a rouge leather booth facing a stage where nearly naked, pubescent dancers with porcine heads did a kind of bebop transhumanist dance to a techno interpretation of Dizzy Gillespie, to the apt attention of the crowd. The host, a normally avuncular man of indeterminate age, rushed over to the table, one might think to greet the great Doctor, but it is the relative unknown he focused his attention on.
The host said, “Mr Tellar, it is so good to see you, it has been too long!” He seemed nervous, for no discernible reason, speaking in the safety of simple cliche. “Can I get you a drink?”
Mr Tellar smiled graciously, “Indeed Sims, how about a bat virus for myself and my friend?” The host rushed away without a word.
“What’s in a bat virus?” asked the doctor.
“A shot of DARPA, a shot of Baric, a shot of Zhengli and Daszak bitters,” Mr Tellar said, “Otherwise known as the Wuhan martini. You must have had it before.”
“It’s my favorite,” said Dr Phauche’, “Except we call it the Function of Gain at my local pub.”
Mr Tellar looked approvingly at the doctor. “It really is nice to see you again, Anthonee. What an amazing three years it has been, what a capstone to the greatest of careers. An engineered pandemic, a controlled demolition of the economy, lock downs, masks that don’t work, social distancing!” He guffawed. “No early treatment, wait till they are blue, ventilators and Remdesivir to finish them off. You managed to demonize two of the most important drugs ever created, Hydroxychloriquine and Ivermectin, condemning millions to an early death, ongoing. A safe and effective ‘vaccine’ that is nearly the opposite of effective and considerably more dangerous than the virus, causing damage and death that is as unprecedented as it is officially ignored. Excess death off the charts even now.” He looked almost like a proud father, though the two men were of a similar age, the most striking difference between the two, the tailored suit the doctor wore and the casual button down and jeans of Tellar. “My star pupil,” he said.
“Thank you for saying so,” said the doctor. “I’m not finished yet, either.”
“Yes,” said Tellar, “I heard you were moving on to the next stage of your career. So very optimistic of you, at your age, doctor.”
The doctor looked pained. “I have been the public servant so long, I would like to make some real money now.”
Tellar’s eyes went wide, he pushed his face forward, before breaking into a head tilting-back laugh. “Public servant! HA! That is so good!” He gathered himself. “What you did to Duesberg, that was a thing of beauty, that was. How many people might have been saved from cancer and AIDS had he continued his work! What a template for the tens of thousands of careers of honest doctors you have destroyed.” He shook his head smiling, looking into a far distance. “HIV is the sole cause of AIDS! AZT! That was a great start Anthonee. So many dead. I wasn’t sure you could top that! But then you had a portion of the HIV virus attached to Corona!”
Dr Phauche’ looked long at Tellar, like he couldn’t believe Tellar would admit he had underestimated Dr Anthonee Phauche’. The host arrived with the menu and their drinks before starting to hasten away without a word. Tellar stopped him, saying, “You know what I want to eat. The same for the doctor.”
“But then,” Tellar continued, speaking to the doctor, “you experimented on those disabled kids and I said, this one is a true gem.” Tellar was leaning over the table looking deep for the soul of Anthonee Phauche’.
“I’m still surprised I got away with that as long as I did.” The Doctor looked almost humbled, but not quite.
‘Feeding tubes surgically inserted through their abdomen into their bellies, to serve up your pharmaceutical cocktails!” Tellar exclaimed. “That is genius diabolical! Wards of the State indeed!” Tellar held up his glass in salute; he always knew how to stroke the Doctor’s ego. “But that is absolutely nothing compared to normalizing 90 vaccine shots for kids. Autism goes from 1-10,000 to 1-50 during your tenure and somehow hardly anyone who matters notices! Chronic illness explodes! Life expectancy goes down! Even now excess mortality is off the charts and still you are treated as a Saint. That is truly remarkable, Anthonee. You should be proud of yourself.”
The Doctor said, changing the subject, “I still do not understand why you are not a public figure. It seems like you could do so much more if you were more visible, like me.”
Tellar looked at the doctor, surprised that he could be so obtuse. “We have talked about this Anthonee. I seek to destroy the world, not lead it, nor engage it. I get people like you to do my bidding. That is easier, if the vulgar masses have no idea who I am.”
“But,” and the doctor faltered a bit, “you could rule the world.”
Tellar looked grave. “Don’t project your desires onto me, Dr Phauche’, it makes you look stupid and weak.” Looking graver, “Who do you think rules this world?”
The Doctor looked offended, but thought better of not offending Tellar. “I was just thinking, we wouldn’t have to pretend anymore.”
Tellar smiled. “But Anthonee, the pretending is the best part, the sheer avarice of telling people the opposite of the truth? You have to lie to people to get them to take a pharmaceutical that is going to reduce their life expectancy and damage their reproductive ability. This way, we can spread the depopulation over a generation, gaslight unto oblivion anyone who notices and cancel the rest, especially after we have a digital, centralized currency. Think of the death toll, Anthonee! It will be epic.”
Dr Phauchee looked almost glum. “I’m sad I won’t be here to see the full extent of it.”
Tellar looked almost stern. “Dr Anthonee Phauche’, you are even greedier than I thought. You are directly attributable to more harm and death than any human who has ever lived except for Ghenghis Khan and Chairman Mao, and that is not enough for you. You make Mengele look like a piker!”
Their food arrived. The host delivered it himself. All the color had drained from his face, his hands so sweaty he had to use a towel to hold the plates, which shook. “Your usual, sir,” was all he could muster before he skittered away.
The great doctor looked balefully at his food. “This is your usual? What is it?”
Tellar smiled, closing his eyes to relish the first bite. “Adolescent waste product from gender affirming care, fresh from Boston Children’s Hospital. So tender. Not so rare as it used to be, but savory nonetheless. Cooked to perfection.”
Dr Anthony Phauche’ paused. “I don’t think…”
Tellar stopped chewing and swallowed. “You don’t think what, Anthonee?”
“I’m wondering about the rewards,” the doctor said abruptly.
“You are wondering about what rewards?” Tellar looked incredulous.
““Yes,” Phauche’ faltered, “The rewards for my service.”
“This is the reward,” Tellar said calmly.
“What? This…food?” The doctor seemed confused.
“Your life, Anthonee. Your accomplishments. The fawning adulation. People living in fear of you. Your ability to destroy people while you are lifted up. Your ability to manipulate the media and government. You ability to blur the lines between vaccines and bioweapons. Your ability to kill people including kids while exalted as the healer. And yes, the sheer gratifying evil of eating the waste product of gender affirming care. Don’t you just adore that phrase? These are the rewards.”
Dr Phauchee looked disturbed. “But what about after this life? What about…more of this life? I don’t have that much time left!”
Tellar looked angry, but that shifted quickly to amusement. “What did you think, Anthonee, just because you made a mockery of the laws of Man, that you were going to defy the laws of physics? The laws of thermodynamics? Did you think you were going to sit at the right hand of Lucifer?”
Dr Phauche’ seemed to shrink. “Well, yes, I guess, I thought there would be eternal life, or I could help reign in hell.”
“You humans are such fools,” Tellar said as he took another bite.
“But you said…” The doctor blurted out.
The temperature around the booth seemed to drop. “I said nothing, Dr Anthonee Phauche’. You heard what you wanted to hear. You told yourself what you wanted to believe. That is what you humans never seem to understand, neither I nor my father ever make you do anything, or promise you anything, or do anything to or for you. We merely encourage; I told you what you want to hear and your enormous ego did the rest. Seriously Anthonee, you made a career of lying. Did you really expect I should tell you any truth?”
“So I am just going to die, and then what? I go to hell like everybody else?” The doctor seemed to be falling into a panic.
“Basically, yes.” Tellar continued to eat. Dr Anthonee Phauche’ still had not touched his food.
“That’s bullshit!” The doctor shouted, loud enough that many people nearby had to pretend not to hear it. Less loudly he said to Tellar, “What if I repent? What if I tell the truth! What if I lay it all out on the table, for all of America to see? What if I tell them you are the antichrist?”
Tellar smiled. “Antichrist, Moloch, Ahriman, call me whatever you like. Call me the Singularity. That would be gratifying. You are a mass murderer, Dr Anthonee Phauche’. You don’t get to speak the truth. You have been living a lie so long people would think you had lost your mind if you told any truth. You do not get to repent. You abused one of the most sacred charges a human being can make, for the most nefarious of purposes. Your influence has effectively destroyed the institution of medicine. You have maimed and killed children, women and the elderly. The best you can hope for at this point is to not make your torments worse. Embrace them, in fact. Now eat your fucking food, before I put you on the fucking menu, for all these monstrous humans pretending not to watch our every move. They would gladly partake in the taboo of eating the great Dr Anthonee Phauche’ if they thought it would benefit their career. They would revel in it, they are all so very ambitious like you.”
Dr Phauchee seemed defeated, picking at his food like a wounded bird trapped in a cage about to burn. But then he tasted it, he chewed, he remembered his life’s work, and his ambition was renewed.
Phauche’s all the way down….
[the saint]
[the epic killer]
https://www.therealanthonyfaucimovie.com/trailer/
Very good.
Disturbing, but oh so good to read.
Thank you.
WOW! Thank you for an outstanding article! Your best so far! You painted a macabre and fascinating picture.