The Sklarmageddon: Inside the Omelet Built to Kill
Sklarmageddon sits directly across from me at The Friendly Toast, completely unmoving, but unpredictably unmoving. It’s very strange. Sklarmageddon defies prediction. No, destroys it. I haven’t been able to predict anything since our interview, and my Final Four are all baseball teams now for some reason.
Sklarmageddon is chaos, personified and then turned into an omelet. Sausage, bacon, red-chile pecans, jalapeno jack and Swiss, wielding zesty maple sour cream. Deadly, sexy, white hot chaos on a motorcycle jumping over lesser breakfasts, middle finger in the air. An omelet avatar of some ancient destroyer goddess whose name has been forgotten. She’s not sorry. She can’t be sorry. She was built to be this. She doesn’t seem at all uneasy as I ask my first question:
How did you get like this?
Have you read Nietzche? The Will to Power really kind of speaks to me at my core. What I do isn’t a consequence of anything that happened to me, it’s more like how I happen to the world. I didn’t get like this, I am like this and I will only become more like this. Does that make sense? (Her plate seems to be crumbling around her)
What do you enjoy most about what you do then?
You would think that being eaten is exclusively a submissive act, but anyone I’ve worked with can tell you that it’s not how I work. I am submitted to. We, my partner and I are both simultaneously dominating and submitting, creating and destroying. Destroying something can be a very creative act. I destroy my partner, and they destroy me, and we are both better for it. (Something is shaking at the edge of my vision, I am suddenly very afraid).
There is a lot to that, creation and destruction being different aspects of the same thing.
I guess so. Maybe. And Freedom and Joy and Pain and a lot of other capital letter words. If I think about it too hard I feel like I lose something. (My nose begins to bleed. I cannot help but ask)
How does the world end? Do you know?
With a bang. A very loud bang.