Even though I had been cold for most of my life—unable to remember the last time a joke truly moved me—Theo managed to shatter my composure. He did it with surgical precision, fueled by the sheer filth and unexpectedness of his delivery.
Even the elders were watching him with a newfound caution. It seemed he had managed to catch even them off guard.
What made the scene truly surreal was Theo's angelic appearance. Dressed in pure white from head to toe, with that silver-white hair and a face that radiated a sense of sacredness, you'd expect him to speak in hymns. Instead, that beautiful mouth of his was spitting out the most gutter-level insults imaginable. It was beyond anything I could have hallucinated.
Gerald, on the other hand, stood there with his mouth agape, looking like a literal hole in the ground. He had clearly never expected a counterattack of this magnitude.
The rage in Gerald's eyes was smouldering. As soon as the laughter—which had dragged on for minutes—died down, he stood tall and spat out:
"Do you know who the most beautiful man in the sect is? Man, every time I look at him, I feel a sudden heat in that place."
He deliberately used "beautiful" instead of "handsome" to emasculate him. But instead of the mocking laughter he expected, Gerald was met with a wall of bewildered stares. Even his own father looked at him with a twisted expression.
Gerald realised too late that he had overplayed his hand; he made it sound like he genuinely lusted after Theo.
But Theo wasn't about to let the moment slip away.
I was genuinely curious to see how my new husband would respond.
Theo raised his left hand to the audience, placed his right hand over his heart, and said:
"It's only natural for a short, ugly ape like you to lust after a spotless angel like me. But specifically... where exactly did you feel this 'heat'? Don't tell me it was that filthy backside of yours?"
He paused, then added with a devastating chill:
"I appreciate that you wanted my rod, Gerald. But this pure, honourable rod isn't meant for such disgusting places. So, you'll have to excuse me."
He then turned to the crowd with sudden, feigned eagerness.
"Does anyone know what the shortest thing in this sect is, right after Gerald's height?"
A wave of confusion washed over the room until someone from the back shouted, "What?!"
Theo grinned. "Gerald's manhood."
The room exploded again. The younger disciples, who hated both Gerald and Theo anyway, were losing their minds. Gerald looked like he was being physically stabbed; his face was contorting with every peal of laughter.
Trying to scrape together whatever dignity he had left, Gerald shot back:
"How would you know, Theo? Are you telling me you've measured it? Does that mean you spend your nights thinking about other men's parts?"
It was Gerald's best move yet. He had successfully turned the tables, or so it seemed. Theo looked like he was finally in a corner.
But Theo didn't skip a beat.
"Do you really not know the reason, Gerald? Don't you even remember what you looked like on the day you were born?"
The crowd went silent, confused. Even I was baffled. What did his birth have to do with anything? How could a newborn remember its own appearance? Had Theo finally snapped under the pressure?
But Theo remained calm. "You were a microscopic being on the day you were born, Gerald."
He puffed out his chest, his tone suddenly dripping with mock sympathy. "Do you know, all of you who are laughing... do you know how much Gerald had to struggle just to reach this height?"
He turned back to Gerald and bowed his head respectfully. "I congratulate you on your journey to this size, Gerald. You have my respect, warrior."
"And it's only natural," Theo continued, "that a creature of your scale would barely possess a reproductive organ. It's not something you should blame yourself for."
The hall was in hysterics now. People were literally begging him to stop so they could catch their breath. But Theo was relentless.
"But look on the bright side: at least your mother didn't suffer during your birth. She barely let out a fart and you popped right out."
"And don't worry about the size of your 'little one' either. At that scale, you can still reproduce with other microscopic organisms."
Theo walked toward the edge of the stage. "Have you heard the saying: 'Beware the man close to the earth'? For the ground has claimed his mind before it could ever claim his body. Or perhaps you've heard that the earth holds him down, refusing to let him rise even an inch toward the heavens because of his inherent vileness?"
The crowd looked at him, half-laughing, half-confused.
"Oh, sorry," Theo smirked. "I just invented that. But there's a theory: Never place your head near the ground except while sleeping. The earth's gravity sucks away your precious, bright thoughts and leaves you with nothing but mental trash. This is why we dream—it's the brain's way of protecting its light from being drained."
He looked around. "Never heard of it? My, you people are uncultured. Read a book once in a while."
He bowed again. "Forgive me, I just came up with that one too. But from this theory, we can conclude that Gerald, being so close to the dirt, is left with nothing but a mound of stupidity and filth."
"Damn, kid! You're lethal!" someone in the crowd roared, cursing Theo's father in a fit of impressed laughter. Theo didn't even seem to notice.
Suddenly, Theo looked up at the sky with a look of pure, exaggerated terror.
"I truly fear that divine wrath will fall upon us just for living alongside such a stained, sinful creature," he cried out. He began to bow and prostrate himself repeatedly. "Lord, forgive me! Lord, forgive me!"
I couldn't count how many times I had laughed today. It was a rarity. My facial muscles actually ached. Black mascara was running down my cheeks from the tears. Theo had turned this day into something unforgettable.
I knew he hadn't stopped after Gerald's "counterattack" for a reason. He wasn't going to give him a single opening to breathe.
Fortunately, my Uncle Karl—Theo's father—stepped in quickly to end the madness. It was clear Theo had no intention of stopping on his own.
I didn't even wait for Theo. I bolted from the hall, desperate to reach the bathroom before anyone saw the state of my face.
I had always known Theo was a master of mockery. It was the reason most kids his age hated him; he used to tear anyone and everyone apart when he was younger. Back in the academy, it had gotten so bad that a group of students had ganged up on him and beaten him within an inch of his life. He had "repented" after that, or so we thought.
Gerald clearly wasn't around during those days. If he had been, he never would have been stupid enough to provoke Theo into a war of words.
Before I could reach the sink, my mother appeared behind me. Her expression was indescribable—as if the entire world had just turned upside down inside her head. I didn't blame her. To her, Theo was the golden boy, the polite, well-mannered child who would never utter a foul word.
She looked completely lost. She sat down on a nearby chair and simply gestured for me to keep going. I hurried into the bathroom without a word. There was no way I was starting a conversation with her in that state.