REMEMBER THE MASK (Gunpowder Gospel)

(spoken under the Guy Fawkes mask, baritone, 60 bpm, no music—just breath and brimstone)Remember… remember… the fifth of November, when faith was a fuse and the kingdom a tomb. I, Guido, kneel in the dark, thirty-six apostles of sulphur stacked like black communion bread beneath the throne of liars. They fined our Mass, quartered our priests, burned our books in the market square— so I bring them a quieter sermon: one match, one roar, one sky of righteous fire. Let the King ascend his gilded perch, let the Lords preen in ermine and sin; when the spark kisses powder, stone will weep, timber will scream hallelujah, and every Protestant bell will ring itself to death. No mercy for the merciless. No quarter for the quarter-givers. Only the clean, white blast of a new covenant written in smoke and bone. Hear me, England: your Parliament is kindling, your laws are tinder, your crown is a paper crown. I am the gospel they forgot— gunpowder, treason, and plot. Strike the light. Let the old world end with a whisper and a bang. (long pause, match scratched, held—never dropped)Amen.