endgame
title: endgame
summary: final words in pen.
notes: i don't actually want their world to end like this ;_;
Badou Nails-
Read the entire thing. I don't want you putting this down halfway through and trying to accomplish something. You'll miss what I'm trying to say, and you'll miss the very end. It says a good deal about you, that I feel the need to preface this with a statement like that, but just do as I say and sit down on your side of the couch and read this. If it turns out I wasted my time with writing, I'll be pissed.
You're sitting by now, right? Good. Now:
You're stuck here.
Stay sitting, don't go running off to deck me. I'm going to explain something to you. This isn't a joke, and it's not me intentionally trying to pick a fight or be a shit. It's just something that needs to happen.
We came here, yet again, to check on my boys. You seem used to it. The arrangement never really lost its strangeness to me, but I guess I was procrastinating. That's a bad habit. I have too many of those.
They've been compromised. I don't have time to go into all of the details, and I wouldn't want to tell you even if I had hours to do this. What's happened to them isn't important to you. But it involves me, so I know that I need to put up a little bit before everything's over.
That's right. I said 'over.' Right about now you'd be saying, "I hate it when you talk like that." As strange as life is, it's time to look at reality, and that's what I'm doing.
I'm playing my last cards, and I'm dealing with the problem, Badou. I would have sent you somewhere else before I did this, if it worked like that. There'll be no shortage of shit in the air, here, especially after I finish my own accomplishments. At the same time, I want you to see the news. Read the newspaper. I won't be mentioned at all - there won't be one word dedicated to me. What's important is that you'll see what I've done, though. Maybe it'll explain just a little more for you.
So Rod's men are out, and I've got no more resources. There's just about one person left who knows me, who knows what I need to do. To be truthful, I'd like to blow his brains out. What I'm going to do is upstage him.
Sound stupid yet? You'd better shut up, Badou Nails.
We grew up together. He is, apparently, the best thing there ever was. I hate him. He can't do this without me, and I'm going to make him realize that.
I hate him. You know how I get when I hate people.
When I was five years old, my mother died. You've heard a little bit about her. You know that she was beautiful. You know that she was a good woman.
The third time we visited Germany, we passed the place I'd lived in as a child. I didn't tell you. I don't think she saw me. It was stupid of me. I'm glad she didn't see.
If I told you this directly, we'd fight. Isn't that right? I'll be going out fighting, but not with you. That's how I want it.
Here's what I want you to do:
I want you to finish the cigarette you've got right now.
I want you to pour my chocolate milk down the drain.
I want you to turn on the television, and keep it on the news channel.
I want you to put away your booze, until tomorrow.
I want you
I can't keep writing these choppy sentences. I'll say it like this:
Just keep up whatever you did before you met me. It wasn't a decade ago or anything, so you should be able to remember it fine. Just pick back up. Don't do anything stupid. (But that might have been a contradiction, huh?)
You know that I
would stay if I thought I could. But I've been running away for a long time.
It was cowardly of me.
Thanks. For letting me make it into my twenties. For showing me a good time. Everything else.
Enclosed are the directions to this botanical garden I looked up. Go get some shots in. I left my wallet; it'll get you in there.
Sorry.
-Mihael Keehl
summary: final words in pen.
notes: i don't actually want their world to end like this ;_;
Badou Nails-
Read the entire thing. I don't want you putting this down halfway through and trying to accomplish something. You'll miss what I'm trying to say, and you'll miss the very end. It says a good deal about you, that I feel the need to preface this with a statement like that, but just do as I say and sit down on your side of the couch and read this. If it turns out I wasted my time with writing, I'll be pissed.
You're sitting by now, right? Good. Now:
You're stuck here.
Stay sitting, don't go running off to deck me. I'm going to explain something to you. This isn't a joke, and it's not me intentionally trying to pick a fight or be a shit. It's just something that needs to happen.
We came here, yet again, to check on my boys. You seem used to it. The arrangement never really lost its strangeness to me, but I guess I was procrastinating. That's a bad habit. I have too many of those.
They've been compromised. I don't have time to go into all of the details, and I wouldn't want to tell you even if I had hours to do this. What's happened to them isn't important to you. But it involves me, so I know that I need to put up a little bit before everything's over.
That's right. I said 'over.' Right about now you'd be saying, "I hate it when you talk like that." As strange as life is, it's time to look at reality, and that's what I'm doing.
I'm playing my last cards, and I'm dealing with the problem, Badou. I would have sent you somewhere else before I did this, if it worked like that. There'll be no shortage of shit in the air, here, especially after I finish my own accomplishments. At the same time, I want you to see the news. Read the newspaper. I won't be mentioned at all - there won't be one word dedicated to me. What's important is that you'll see what I've done, though. Maybe it'll explain just a little more for you.
So Rod's men are out, and I've got no more resources. There's just about one person left who knows me, who knows what I need to do. To be truthful, I'd like to blow his brains out. What I'm going to do is upstage him.
Sound stupid yet? You'd better shut up, Badou Nails.
We grew up together. He is, apparently, the best thing there ever was. I hate him. He can't do this without me, and I'm going to make him realize that.
I hate him. You know how I get when I hate people.
When I was five years old, my mother died. You've heard a little bit about her. You know that she was beautiful. You know that she was a good woman.
The third time we visited Germany, we passed the place I'd lived in as a child. I didn't tell you. I don't think she saw me. It was stupid of me. I'm glad she didn't see.
If I told you this directly, we'd fight. Isn't that right? I'll be going out fighting, but not with you. That's how I want it.
Here's what I want you to do:
I want you to finish the cigarette you've got right now.
I want you to pour my chocolate milk down the drain.
I want you to turn on the television, and keep it on the news channel.
I want you to put away your booze, until tomorrow.
I want you
I can't keep writing these choppy sentences. I'll say it like this:
Just keep up whatever you did before you met me. It wasn't a decade ago or anything, so you should be able to remember it fine. Just pick back up. Don't do anything stupid. (But that might have been a contradiction, huh?)
You know that I
would stay if I thought I could. But I've been running away for a long time.
It was cowardly of me.
Thanks. For letting me make it into my twenties. For showing me a good time. Everything else.
Enclosed are the directions to this botanical garden I looked up. Go get some shots in. I left my wallet; it'll get you in there.
Sorry.
-Mihael Keehl