Paradigm eternities

Saffron was Archie's primal name
and he wore it like a
breached petunia on his
lapellooza, that trilling
band around his waist that signaled
Go when DefConCo. drove alerts ahead
like a scattering cavalcade of sparrows.
In the office, Archie controlled subordinates
coolly and only brandished his
winkydink at subtle sarcasms.
He was nonnus vapidus and a
no nonsense renaissance yo-dude.
Archie swung a surfboard medallion
and when questioned said
'crap-ass that, mofo'
and 'shi...'.
His clutch was ever on
and he was. Clutch.
Others went agog, but Archie kept a keen
watch fob around his gog and when the chips
were all atwit, his crackled like a fresh
bowl of breakfast flakes.
Check it, Archie was Saffron,
and the world fell in step,
his was a one-sided coin.
On the shoals he taught
orcas to smite the monkey
like whack-a-mole and grind
pasty old fruit seekers secretly.
The orcas donned anti-gravitational
buoys and were mirthless in their
ruthlessity. Their chainsaw accessories
worked a mail wetsuit like a glow red
wire melts through Styrofoam.
In the boardroom
Archie's orcas grinned
inagoddavida with
enhanced pearl incisors. They
glimmered in the florescence.
His brand of a nutshell was
uncrackable with a moped operandi
that assailed the co-peditors open
toed with a pleasantly hued
visceral display and, rapt,
the nation and world engulfed
DefConCo. When no further
contributions to the product
entrailed a profit, those,
Saffron says, mofos ceased
and the people
tho purple
became inconsequential
now free to de-evolutionize.
With gills they practice
daily catharsis, emanating
eons of programmed rage
from dilating pores,
polluting the seas with a toxic
froth that batters the crags,
creating planet-wide monumental friezes
to glorify a race of nincompoops
better left to the archives of
the one who remembers,
the eternal brain of Archie,
albeit Saffron,
immortal head of Earth.