Showing posts with label shorts. Show all posts
Showing posts with label shorts. Show all posts

Sunday, May 31, 2009

the villagers


in the middle of nowhere and the edges of everywhere lies a village, much like any other village you've seen yet not quite. here, the sun never goes out, only dims a little, and changes color depending on the mood of the person who is looking at it. the village is built in such a way that all houses are facing each other and at the front door, anybody could see everybody. from outside, the houses differ in shape, size and color but within each one are the same kinds of rooms: for cooking and eating, for sitting and talking, for sleeping and fucking. no one has ever left since the day they came and lived here.

there is one house made of sticks and stones. in it lives an ogre who likes to sing girly songs. he has been practicing yoga so that he can self-fellate his microcock. he wears branded clothes even though they could never hide the fact that he is an ogre. nobody can tell the difference between the sound of his grunt and his fart.

there is one house made of stiletto heels that were glued together with the wax used to remove leg hair. it is called the house of smoke and mirrors because there is always smoke coming out of the chimney and all the walls inside are made of mirrors. in it lives a woman who, when not talking to herself, is always either puffing on a cigarette and sucking a cock or two. she thinks she is the most beautiful woman in the village, but of course, just like the name of her house, it is merely an illusion.

there is one house made of recycled paper. in it is a man who does not have anything that he did not steal from someone. this thief takes the other villagers' belongings and proclaims them as his own. but his favorite things to plunder are words and ideas, which he likes to combine and make senseless paragraphs in futile attempts to sound wise. with no money from his unpublished works of plagiarism, he survives by eating his own shit.

there is one house made of chocolate. in it lives a bunch of kids who play video games all day. they have every console and every game ever made. none of the kids come out for fear of growing up. the oldest of the kids is actually 240 years old and has played and finished all the games at least twice. he scores perfect in all levels of guitar hero on expert mode using his toes, eyes closed. he is the uncredited discoverer of the konami cheat code but he doesn't care.

there is one house that looks like a normal house but the doors and windows are not real, just painted on. in it is a hairless creature with sharp teeth and each day, it gives birth to a replica of itself, eats it and grows bigger...

there is one house made of diamonds and velvet. in it lives the woman whose voice can calm storms and bloom flowers. she is the true most beautiful woman in the village according to a survey conducted telepathically. whenever she smiles, a demon dies. she hosts a party every day and guests find her house by following the vapor trail of her heavenly perfume. she serves the most delicious food and the finest drinks and doesn't end the party until she has talked to everybody. she sleeps dreaming of her next party.

there is one house made of bones and painted with blood. in it lives a man with no face and a million brains. and yet, just like everybody else, he has one heart and it belongs to the most beautiful woman in the village. because he cannot speak, he only writes and the only things he writes are love letters and suicide notes.

(work in progress. the end for now.)

p.s. i didnt know what the point of this was either but i wrote it anyway.

Monday, March 09, 2009

the last chat


Yahweh! Messenger 7
waterwalker1225 - status message: let he who is not stoned cast the first sin.
Show Recent Messages (F3)
waterwalker1225: BUZZ!
waterwalker1225: hey bro. wassup?!
waterwalker1225: hello…
waterwalker1225: i know you’re there, judas. speak up, invisible man.
waterwalker1225: BUZZ!
waterwalker1225: BUZZ!
waterwalker1225: BUZZ!
waterwalker1225: oh, come on, bro. arent you gonna talk to me ever again?
iscariot.judas: fuck off, jesus.
waterwalker1225: there you are! what’s the haps, old friend, old buddy, old pal?
iscariot.judas: you do know that i am pissed off at you, dont you?
waterwalker1225: yeah, well. sorry about that, bro.
iscariot.judas: sorry my ass.
waterwalker1225: come on, jude-dude. it was just a little improv, you know, to make things more believable.
iscariot.judas: well, congratulations, asshole, nobody trusts me now. fuck.
waterwalker1225: i said i was sorry.
iscariot.judas: oh, fuck you. what’s your sorry gonna do now, huh? you’ve humiliated me beyond repair, man.
waterwalker1225: IM SORRY IM SORRY IM SORRY IM SORRY IM SORRY IM SORRYIM SORRY IM SORRY IM SORRY
iscariot.judas: just forget the whole thing, jc. im out.
waterwalker1225: no, no, please, dont do this, bro. we had a plan. i cant do it without you.
iscariot.judas: well, go find someone else to be your traitor. i cant do it, man. fuck, even the hookers dont trust me.
waterwalker1225: listen to me, bro. im really sorry for what i said during the last supper. im sorry if i’ve embarrassed you in front of our homies. but please understand that we gotta do this together. we’ve been planning this from day one. you cant just leave me like that. what about all the things i did for you? i’ve always been there for you!
iscariot.judas:
waterwalker1225: im crying, judas.
iscariot.judas: wtf. get a hold of yourself, man. jesus.
waterwalker1225: yes?
iscariot.judas: what?
waterwalker1225: huh?
iscariot.judas: dammit. are you really crying?
waterwalker1225: yeah…
iscariot.judas: ok. dont cry. stop crying. i hate it when you cry. you know that shit is my weakness.
waterwalker1225: ok…
waterwalker1225: im really sorry.
iscariot.judas: i know. it’s just, i really didnt expect you’d do that, man. we never talked about anything like that.
waterwalker1225: im sorry. please forgive me. i’d do anything.
iscariot.judas: i forgive you, jc. you don’t have to do anything.
waterwalker1225: really?
iscariot.judas: really.
iscariot.judas: wait. on second thought, i sure need your help in getting some pussy, man. seriously, my balls fucking hurt.
waterwalker1225: lols.
iscariot.judas: could you like put a good word out on some of magdalene’s friends for me? sure could use a threesome before my appointment with those priests.
waterwalker1225: consider it done, bro. texting her right now.
iscariot.judas: thanks.
waterwalker1225: so, we’re ok now?
iscariot.judas: yep.
waterwalker1225: yay! thank you, bro. im so happy could kiss you.
iscariot.judas: you are such a fag, jc.
waterwalker1225: no. you are.
iscariot.judas: no. you are.
waterwalker1225: no. you are. remember the plan? you’re supposed to kiss me.
iscariot.judas: oh, yeah. shit. can’t i suggest to them that i’ll just pat your back or pinch your nose or something?
waterwalker1225: nope. you have to kiss me.
waterwalker1225: on the lips.
iscariot.judas: on the lips?! no way!
waterwalker1225: lols. gotcha. of course not. just on the cheek man. eww on the lips.
iscariot.judas: double eww.
iscariot.judas has signed out. (30AD)
waterwalker1225: oh.
iscariot.judas has signed back in.
waterwalker1225: wb.
iscariot.judas: sorry, man. got dc’ed.
iscariot.judas: this happens from time to time.
iscariot.judas: think it’s my isp? or the router?
waterwalker1225: could be a virus. you should do a scan.
iscariot.judas: yeah. thaddeus probably infected my system with his flash drive when he copied my porn the other day.
waterwalker1225: hey, maggie just replied. she said she’ll send two of her newest over.
iscariot.judas: awesome.
iscariot.judas: so, i probably should take a bath now ’cause them bitches’ll be here any minute.
waterwalker1225: no rush, bro. they’re just gonna walk. camels are in the pound. illegal parking.
iscariot.judas: hey, jc, one other thing. about the noose, are you sure it’s safe?
waterwalker1225: sure as manure, as long as you put the harness on properly.
iscariot.judas: right. how long should i stay there?
waterwalker1225: until someone sees you and runs away for help. then come down and head to rendezvous point. i’ll be there.
waterwalker1225: hmmm. what else…
waterwalker1225: shit. hold on.
waterwalker1225: gotta confirm the fake nails.
waterwalker1225: brb
iscariot.judas: ok.
waterwalker1225: back.
waterwalker1225: what about the cloth lady, what’s her name?
iscariot.judas: veronica.
waterwalker1225: yeah, her. she good to go?
iscariot.judas: aye.
waterwalker1225: great. i am so excited, jude-dude. this is going to be awesome!
iscariot.judas: easy for you to say. you’ll probably be remembered as a hero while i’ll go down in history as the bastard who betrayed you.
waterwalker1225: which is a very important role, bro. without your betrayal, i will not be arrested and crucified.
iscariot.judas: please. we both know that’s not how it’s gonna be. john and his fellow bloggers are gonna have a fuckin feast with their shit and everyone will see me as the villain.
waterwalker1225: you may be a villain to them, judas, but to me, you are the hero.
iscariot.judas: aawww. thanks, jc.
waterwalker1225: i love you, bro!
iscariot.judas: jc…
iscariot.judas: you
iscariot.judas: are
iscariot.judas: such
iscariot.judas: a
iscariot.judas: FAG.

Saturday, February 28, 2009

short story: Machina Ex Deus

It was a fine Wednesday morning and exactly three seconds after Barry Thodol sat down for breakfast and put his coffee mug on the smiley face coaster, the doorbell rang. The sound startled him for he could not even remember the last time he heard it. As silent as he could, he stood up and walked towards the front door. Before he could ask who it was, the doorbell rang again and Barry was almost knocked off his feet. He opened the door and saw two policemen standing there with their arms folded across their chests and wearing sunglasses.

With only his lips moving, the one on the left said: "Are you Barry Thodol?"

"Yes," Barry replied.

The one on the right suddenly held a sheet of paper in front of his face. "Did you write this short story?"

Barry looked at it. It was a printout of the short story he wrote and posted on an online community yesterday. He had given it the title Ampersands, which had absolutely nothing to do with the plot. The story was about a boy who had an irrational fear of beards and the invasion of humanoid aliens who have the longest beards in the universe. "Yes."

"You're coming with us." The policeman on the left said and brandished a pair of handcuffs.

Twenty minutes later, he was being escorted into court. It was a good thing that he was already dressed for work and it would have been quite embarrassing if he went on trial wearing pajamas. But the courtroom turned out to be very different from what Barry expected. It was small with no seats for anybody else but the judge. The policemen guided him in front of the bench, uncuffed him and left the room. The chair behind the raised desk spun around and the judge revealed himself. The judge was old and bald and wrinkly with long white nosehairs. And he was wearing pajamas.

"Do you know why you are here?" asked the judge whose name Fred Frederick was according to his nameplate.

"Nope," Barry said.

Judge Frederick yawned. "But you do know that it is against the law to write a story without a twist ending?"

"Yes," Barry said.

"That is why you are here. You have violated section 2-21b of the Literary Law."

Barry scratched his head. The judge began pounding the gavel. "There will be no head scratching in my court," screamed the judge.

"Sorry," Barry said.

"You wrote a short story entitled Ampersands which is about a beard-fearing young man who becomes the world's hero against an invasion of bearded aliens. The last two paragraphs detail how Popo, your protagonist, defeated the invaders and escaped the exploding mothership without a scratch on his skin. Am I correct?"

"Yes."

"That is not a twist ending."

Barry thought real hard and deep why Judge Frederick said so. He was about to speak again but the judge interrupted him.

"Popo, despite his phobia, managed to infiltrate the alien mothership, free the captured humans and kill hordes of alien warriors with beards. I think the proper twist ending would be his unexpected death after surviving through all those obstacles."

A moment of silence passed. Barry opened his mouth but the judge interrupted him again.

"Or he was an alien himself."

Nodding with a smile, Barry realized that that was actually a better ending. He later realized that he had been nodding with a smile for too long because Judge Frederick started tapping the desk with his fingers. "Well, Mr. Thodol?"

Barry took a deep breath and said: "Your Honor, in my line of work, I deal with people dying every day. Yesterday, I was so bored. I went home early to sleep so I could spend the night awake having fun in some bar. But the instant I lied down on the bed, the idea for the story popped into my head. It wouldn't let go and I couldn't sleep. So, I got up, went to my laptop and just began typing my idea away. As I have mentioned, death is an everyday thing to me and so, as my twist ending, I made my character live. That is my defense, Your Honor."

Frowning, the judge asked: "What line of work are you talking about?"

Barry moved his hand to scratch his head but then remembered the judge's warning. "Um...Population control."

"Oh," Judge Fredrick said. "Very well. The short story will be granted public viewing as long as you change the ending. You will be fined $100, payable now or else you'd spend a day in jail. Case dismissed."

Fortunately, Barry had exactly $100 in his wallet. Unfortunately, it meant he had to walk 6 miles to get to his office building. He was late for two hours. It was the first time anyone in the office came in late and instead of the computer screen, all eyes were on him when he entered. He reached his workstation with relief. He turned on his computer and loaded the company software. He ignored the queue of emails on his inbox. On the Name field textbox, he typed in Fred Frederick and on the Occupation field, judge. He clicked Submit. Judge Fred Frederick's profile came up. Barry clicked on the Detailed Cause of Death button and on the corresponding textbox he typed:

Judge Fred Frederick dies of a heart attack while pooping.

Barry pressed enter. He then proceeded to do his work routine: open an email, copy-paste the name to the company software and input how that person would die.

Six miles away, Judge Fred Frederick died of a heart attack while pooping.