No where else to post this gem, enjoy!
him bSFR"ues Ofuy Frank Jaffers walked down the street, suddenly he scratched his nose. Things were awry. He felt a presence, and not the kind you get at christmastime. Like a hovering duck he ducked into a magazine stand. Here he'll be safe.
"Hey frank, whatcha doin out?" Damn! It was his probation officer dressed as Superman! She had been hiding beneith a pile of old copies of the New York Post. Now she was advancing on him like an obese drag queen advances on a delicious Quiche'. In one hand she held a flashlight, and in the other she held a pair of silver nostral plugs. "You'll need these." She said thrusting the plugs in his tender but willing nose. "Things are about to get smelly."
Suddenly he knew all 50 states. "That's the smell of knowledge." She told him, as tears came to his eyes.
"Knowledge smells like sulferous dead whale." Frank replied.
"Theres change abreast, and your not the first to know it. We've got to get moving."
"But my pet whale is still back at my apartment!" His probation officer gave him a look that could only be described as obsequious.
His mouth quivered.
"Oh frank, if only things were differnent for us."
"Your disengenious." frank replied.
She looked him over suspiciouly, it was a look he dreaded. They both knew he'd been reading again. She pushed past him, pages of the new york post stuck to her like years of unused toilet paper.
The sun lingered at the touch of the horizon and suddenly, it wasn't blue. It had never been blue, he knew that, but did she?
Frank couldn't escape these questions, and so he was forever haunted. She took him by his haunted hand and led him back out onto the sidewalk. They walked, and for a while the only sound was Franks haunted breath and the squish of her shoe on a dead pigeon. Suddenly, without warning, something suddenly occured to Frank suddenly. "Where are we going?"
"Were going to sudden river. That'll get us started."
"Sudden river? Thats in the direction of Count Faust."
"We can't think about the count right now, not now Frank."
"Be-alza-bob."
"Yes."
His pulse moved like a kindergarden drum circle. He could hear his heart in his ears. "Quiet heart."
"What?"
"Nothing."
They crossed market and fifteenth, a union of ducks had baracaded the intersection. Frank peered over his shoulder to catch a glimpse of their signs.
"Don't provoke them Frank, one polysybalic word and they could snap."
The signs demanded a larger vocabulary and better reading conditions. Nothing made sense right now, not since he suddenly scratched his nose. He saw a battalion of ducks proping a manhole. His parol officer turned a corner. Frank looked again, he could see them disapper one by one into the sewers. "That is where we must go Frank. Since you became my responsibilty some years ago for the crime of making up your own name, I've always suspected that you, and only you have the power to defeat Count Faust and his partner in evil, Luke the Duke."
"Why do you suspect this?" Franks Parole officer shifted unconfortably in her superman costume.
"There is only one answere I can give you Frank, and you're not going to like it." Frank steeled himself for the absolute worst. He closed his eyes, curled into a ball on the ground, and started whimpering like a little boy who thinks he's a little girl.
"Pull it together man, you think you've got it bad, look at those ducks. They don't even understand sarcasm, those bastards and the war of 82. 36 hours of negotiations, ruined by one sarcastic emisary. For weeks Ducks carreened into skyscreappers across the nation in protest. Liberal hippie conspiraists delighted, accusing United National Window Sparkle Co of organizing the attack. So much bloodshed..."
Frank got up, he put his arms around her. "Shhh..." A clinging copy of The New York Post crumpled between them.
"Your right, we've got to find another way down, they'll never let us use their manhole."
Frank perked up, "If its a man hole you need, I've got just the one." Quickly he reached into his pocket and pulled out a foldable, dispoasable jackhammer. He tore off his shirt and let the piston punch the pavement. Soon a hole into the sewar system had opened. They waited until the quaking of the humorless ducks had faded away, before lowering themselves into the dark wet pipe.
"God this pipe is so dark and wet." Frank said, pulling a spare shirt from his other pocket.
"I'll show you something else that's dark and wet." His probation officer said as she wrapped her cape around him.
As the cape covered his eyes the dark pipe became illuminated. He could feel the warmth of her breath, which was good, because he knew she wasn't a zombie. But did she know she wasn't a zombie?(sp>)
"This is no ordinary cape, uh, parol officer. How is it I've known you for all these years and yet I know nothing of your name?"
"Not now Frank, can't you hear it."
He let his ears wander and then he heard the slow waddle of ducks.
"They're close frank."
"Calm before the storm..."
The waddle of ducks paused. Franks heart skipped a beat. They met eyes and ran.
"Get to the highgrounds!!!" Yelled the officer.
"Were in a tube, there are no highgrounds!"
"If there are ducks there is also water nearby, if we dont find highground we're gonna have to fight the bastards on their terms."
A connecting tunnel sat just ahead. They ducked in and found themselves falling. Falling like big pig peaches. Peaches with big beaches. AND NO FAT CHICKS.
FUCK YEAH.
The ducks, knowing the terain, remained above, fearful of what was below.
Franks mind wandered. Does the african elephant hold fifteen gallons of water or does it prefer milk? Does it know it prefers milk?
At what velocity does milk have the potential energy to shatter the inside of the elephant? Does a broken elephant cry? Or does it sit there, taking it? I water. I rain. But if rain is a category of water, and milk is a liquid (meaning it MUST contain water) then it is irrelevant to even speak of the elephants gut!
AHHHHH A MONSTER OF CONFUSION AND IDOL. IT IS THE HORRIBLE FOURTH WALLY!
"Guys, i dont know if I can act that much like a monster right now. Try to understand what im saying, its early in the morning and i just put the kids to sleep. I cant be coming into a story ever time you want to write me"
Frank considered this and promptly replied, "Yes, but do you know if I know your not a zombie, wondering if you know your not a zombie? And what would it mean if our fourth wall character was in fact a zombie, but unkown to the viewer?"
"My god the concussive(sp?) forces alone could destroy half the city!"
The magnitude of these discussions concerned Frank Jaffers but not enough to ignore the sting of a 40 foot fall to cold sludge ice.
"You know, Im cold, but Id be colder if i wasnt wearing these long underwear" Jaffers noted to himself.
"Glug, glug" replied the officer.
"I got a joke for you officer." Jaffers stalled. "What do you call it when you shove pancakes down a woman's throat..............Date Crepe!!!!!"
"There are mice in my walls"
"I tell the best joke in the past 15 years and you worry about womens problems?"
"But I cant pay attention without the mice. They are like breathing in to me by now"
"This is just typical, yeah okay, fine."
A duck bellowed, "OH WHO ARE WE FOOLING, THIS DARING CHARADE WILL NEVER KEEP FROM THE HARSH LIGHT OF DISCOVERY"
"The duck is right. As an officer of the law, it is my duty to ejaculate onto your lap."
AHHH THE BURRITO NABBER. HE WILL STEAL TWO OF YOUR HIGH QUALITY BURRITOS.
How could a monster do this? He's not a monster, just misunderstood.
"Shut up fourth wally." Frank Jaffers realized that everything was degenerating into a series of non-sequitors. This was an old trick that the ducks use to confuse an opponent before they waddle in for the kill. Frank began spinning slowly at first, but quickly gaining speed. His parole officer had removed her Superman costume to reveal a smaller Superman costume under it. "Must find direction..." he was thinking in quotes. "I have to find some sort of direction." The Burrito Monster reached into Franks pocket and stole two of is best burritos that he had been saving. Four buisness men walked through the fray, talking about stock portfolios, beating their wives, and stiff competition.
The non-sequitors were flying and bouncing around the sewar tube at supersonic speeds, the only way Frank could see to stop the non-sequitors was to somehow communicate his plight to the writer. But he couldn't communicate with him/her/it, but he realized that right next to him, sobbing, was somebody who could. "Hey! Fourth wally!"
"Oh it's not enough frank, I try and I try and I try. He just, ..." she broke off, her lips quivered. Zombies limps don't quiver, frank hoped she knew she wasn't a zombie. "All I ever wanted was to make a good family, I thought I did alrite, you know. Now this, how hard is it for two people to just work. And think about the kids, they'll never understand."
"Pull yourself together god damn it! Zombies just confuse the issue! What you need to do is talk to the author before the non sequitors tear this place apart!" Fourth Wally began to cry harder. "You have to try!" The quacking echoed through sewars, the ducks were close.
"But my author is a collective!"
His parole officer shouted "WE GOTTA MOVE TO DELUTH AND START A JUG BAND!" Frank was beginning to loose hope.
"FINE!" Shouted Fourth Wally. "I'll try." Fourth Wally turned toward the author and shouted. "HEY!"
"What?" The author said, looking down whilst typing. Suddenly, to Fourth Wally's surprise, the authors face changed. Where as before he was a blond boy in a red robe who obviously needed to brush his teeth, now he had short black hair and a HIP t-shirt. "Shove over, let me get in the driver seat here. Alrite. Okay. I'm gonna blow your mind. I made you." The face shifts around. "Thats not gonna help them. Here hun, just do what you think is right, I'll stick up for you with these guys." Faces shifts back. "What kind of pussy shit is that?"
Frank looked around, the author wouldn't help him now. " a life as a woman in a Deluth Jug Band. "Superman this is no time to look for a life in the country." He grabbed her hand and they waded through the water.
------
"Old lady gives Young Woman sas, more on that when we return"
"Are your legs crampy? Do they need a huge boost of energy? Get the only ointment for more leg motion thats also edible!" *music chimes in* "Now when your kids feel like moving its not the same hassle its always been! You can rub our ointment all over your kids legs, and feed it to them too, it's lunch and fun together, only with SpreadaMule-S3X!"
"Earlier we told you about an old lady who's not just old, she gave a young woman sas, we turn to Howard Sadpatheticsoullesscreep for more"
"Yes Bob, more and more young women receive sas from the elderly, and no one knows just whats causing it. 'These kids and their drugs today' quoted the young woman, an excessively demure dog like woman. When asked to identify the rampaging elderly she near fainted in a flutter. If only our wives were more demure like this young lady, back to you bob."
"Men can dream Howard, next up is our 153 million part series on the best oral enhancement methods for pleasing your man."
------
"Mister! Hey Mister!"
The young boy shook the gibbering, hysterical man lying on the sidewalk. His eyes had rolled up in the back of his head, and he was spouting random words and drooling all over his jacket. The boy withdrew the man's wallet and began leafing through it.
"Frank Jaffers" he read aloud.
The boy set the wallet aside and resumed searching the man's pockets. He found a bottle of pills that read ANTI-HALLUCINOGENS in large, friendly letters written in Namby-Bamby font. Understanding, the boy attempted to open the bottle to retrieve the recommended dosage but the child-safety lock prevented him from doing so. A middle-aged businessman who happened to be walking by saw the boy struggling with the pill bottle and set his briefcase down.
"Give here you little faggot." he said contemptuously.
With no trouble he popped open the bottle and shoved two pills down Frank's throat.
"It's just a plastic bottle, Jesus Christ."
All of a sudden, Frank blinked, and sat up.
He looked at the pills in the businessman's hand and blushed.
"Thank you kind sir, I was having another one of my hallucination attacks. I forgot to take my pills earlier, I'm sure glad you stopped to help me."
"No thanks to this little shitstain." the businessman said, motioning to the small boy.
The small boy sniveled slightly, and then walked away sadly to develop a complex.
Frank stood up and brushed himself off. He looked over at a manhole, half uncovered. He heard faint quacking and decided that he better take another pill.
"Yeah, like I said," he continued to the businessman, "I get these hallucinations. It's like there are three or four guys inside my head 'writing' my thoughts for me, you know? I feel like I'm being observed in a small room, with three normal walls, and big gaping hole where the fourth wall should be, as if the fourth wall isn't there, like it's been taken away somehow."
Frank paused.
"GET IT?"
"No, we don't." Three or four voices replied. Frank sat back down on the sidewalk, listening for quacking, tried to make sense of
EVAN
DON'T
INTERRUPT
ME
ALSO I HAVE SOME CHOICE WORDS FOR YOU AS WELL NATE.
"Gah!" Frank said clutching his head. The hullucinations were continuing, now the voices were fighting with eachother!
HERE'S WHAT I HAVE TO SAY ABOUT THIS:but
IT IS MY OPINION, AS A PHILOSOPHY MAJOR...
AS AN UNINFORMED RETAIL EMPLOYEE, I FEEL QUALIFIED TO ASSESS THAT...
When would the madness end!? Frank knew what he had to do.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXOH YEAH!? WELL I WORK FOR THE FALLS CHURCH NEWS PRESS AND THIS JUST IN, ALEX IS A GIANT DOUCHE BAG.
I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT THE CURRENT DISCUSSION AT HAND IS, BUT LET ME WEIGH IN BY SAYING...XXXXXXXXX
"Frank," he whispered to himself and the other voices, "let me tell you a story about rabbits..." he said as he slowly put a gun to the back of his head, so he could not see it...
OH WOW SUICIDE REAL ORIG. Real orig asshole.aNAL. THAT'S GONNA BE A GREAT ENDING. REALLY, IT WILL, REALLY.
IT WAS A PARODY OF MICE AND MEN YOU STUPID ASSHOLEIT WAS A PARODY OF MICE AND MEN YOU STUPID ASSHOLEIT WAS A PARODY OF MICE AND MEN YOU STUPID ASSHOLEIT WAS A PARODY OF MICE AND MEN YOU STUPID ASSHOLEIT WAS A PARODY OF MICE AND MEN YOU STUPID ASSHOLEIT WAS A PARODY OF MICE AND MEN YOU STUPID ASSHOLEIT WAS A PARODY OF MICE AND MEN YOU STUPID ASSHOLEIT WAS A PARODY OF MICE AND MEN YOU STUPID ASSHOLEIT WAS A PARODY OF MICE AND MEN YOU STUPID ASSHOLEIT WAS A PARODY OF MICE AND MEN YOU STUPID ASSHOLEIT WAS A PARODY OF MICE AND MEN YOU STUPID ASSHOLEIT WAS A PARODY OF MICE AND MEN YOU STUPID ASSHOLETAKE THAT
FRANK IS A LOSER CHARACTER, HE DOESN'T TEST WELL AMONG BLACK REPUBLICAN OKLAHOMANS AGED 13-29 OUR KEY DEMOGRAPHIC
He put down his gun because he agreed that it really would be a cop out. Frank had never even read Of Mice and Men.
"All of you shut up! Can't you see that this collabrative story project is tearing your friendship apart!?"X
"Oh no, hereeeeee I go again!" said Frank
Wow guys, in our effort to write the greatest story ever, we forgot what really matters in life. It isn't good stories, or punchy lines or pretentious allusions X
YEAH PUSH OVER FRANK. XGO DEEP FRY A TOFU OR SOME SHIT. SPINELESS CREEP, YOUR OUR IMAGINARY FRIEND.X
FUCK THIS I'M JUST GOING TO START "X"ING EVERYTHING I DISAGREE X
Come on guys, we can do this! Together! YAY!
if u don't want to cyber then shut up and get out
TXT 228822 FR HT PHN TXT SX, LV GRLS WAITING NOW!
15/f/FL
Press 22 if u lyke sublyme
29/m/ht bod/lking for agrsv TOP
Guys your not being very constructiXXXXXXXXXX
At an internet cafe is Deluth one male stripper and one proffesional slut have a cup of coffe. The coffe is burnt and the feXXXXXX
Well I guess the moral of this story is that three people can't work on the same story at the same time without it turning into some sort of metaphore about cooks and broth or something.
SARTRE WAS A HUGE FAG FYI
case in point
touche young son
Satre does not blow. Satre is more existential than you'll ever be in your whole life.
My dad divorced my mother when I was four
Frank reflected that he was no longer part of the story at all.
Oh boo fucking hoo "Me me me it's all about me, the protagonist of the story, everyone look at me."
Frank regretted ever scratching his nose and ever becoming part of this crappy story.
---
Frank could not reconcile the nature of his exsistence. Where before, he was nothing but a blank digital paper, he was then crafted in a fiery tumult. The mind of four men were as catalyst for the furnace of his creation. So after the sudden abadonment of his makers he could not let himself succomb to their whim. He knew he must fight his fictional form and become: Fictoral Ralea.
He will scour the planet, embrace poor writing styles, used cliches, and bad story lines. So he will become the martyr of these and his character will be wretche with disease. Yet the darkening day of popular fiction will find new light as the much of Ann Coulter, crap novels, Bill Orielly™ for Kids!, and Daniel Steel are sucked into eternal solitude in the soul of Frank Jaffers.
Frank Jaffers. I annoint you our lord and savior of the written word, go forth and let they're gramatical errors consume you.
---
"Hey frank, whatcha doin out?" Damn! It was his probation officer dressed as Superman! She had been hiding beneith a pile of old copies of the New York Post. Now she was advancing on him like an obese drag queen advances on a delicious Quiche'. In one hand she held a flashlight, and in the other she held a pair of silver nostral plugs. "You'll need these." She said thrusting the plugs in his tender but willing nose. "Things are about to get smelly."
Suddenly he knew all 50 states. "That's the smell of knowledge." She told him, as tears came to his eyes.
"Knowledge smells like sulferous dead whale." Frank replied.
"Theres change abreast, and your not the first to know it. We've got to get moving."
"But my pet whale is still back at my apartment!" His probation officer gave him a look that could only be described as obsequious.
His mouth quivered.
"Oh frank, if only things were differnent for us."
"Your disengenious." frank replied.
She looked him over suspiciouly, it was a look he dreaded. They both knew he'd been reading again. She pushed past him, pages of the new york post stuck to her like years of unused toilet paper.
The sun lingered at the touch of the horizon and suddenly, it wasn't blue. It had never been blue, he knew that, but did she?
Frank couldn't escape these questions, and so he was forever haunted. She took him by his haunted hand and led him back out onto the sidewalk. They walked, and for a while the only sound was Franks haunted breath and the squish of her shoe on a dead pigeon. Suddenly, without warning, something suddenly occured to Frank suddenly. "Where are we going?"
"Were going to sudden river. That'll get us started."
"Sudden river? Thats in the direction of Count Faust."
"We can't think about the count right now, not now Frank."
"Be-alza-bob."
"Yes."
His pulse moved like a kindergarden drum circle. He could hear his heart in his ears. "Quiet heart."
"What?"
"Nothing."
They crossed market and fifteenth, a union of ducks had baracaded the intersection. Frank peered over his shoulder to catch a glimpse of their signs.
"Don't provoke them Frank, one polysybalic word and they could snap."
The signs demanded a larger vocabulary and better reading conditions. Nothing made sense right now, not since he suddenly scratched his nose. He saw a battalion of ducks proping a manhole. His parol officer turned a corner. Frank looked again, he could see them disapper one by one into the sewers. "That is where we must go Frank. Since you became my responsibilty some years ago for the crime of making up your own name, I've always suspected that you, and only you have the power to defeat Count Faust and his partner in evil, Luke the Duke."
"Why do you suspect this?" Franks Parole officer shifted unconfortably in her superman costume.
"There is only one answere I can give you Frank, and you're not going to like it." Frank steeled himself for the absolute worst. He closed his eyes, curled into a ball on the ground, and started whimpering like a little boy who thinks he's a little girl.
"Pull it together man, you think you've got it bad, look at those ducks. They don't even understand sarcasm, those bastards and the war of 82. 36 hours of negotiations, ruined by one sarcastic emisary. For weeks Ducks carreened into skyscreappers across the nation in protest. Liberal hippie conspiraists delighted, accusing United National Window Sparkle Co of organizing the attack. So much bloodshed..."
Frank got up, he put his arms around her. "Shhh..." A clinging copy of The New York Post crumpled between them.
"Your right, we've got to find another way down, they'll never let us use their manhole."
Frank perked up, "If its a man hole you need, I've got just the one." Quickly he reached into his pocket and pulled out a foldable, dispoasable jackhammer. He tore off his shirt and let the piston punch the pavement. Soon a hole into the sewar system had opened. They waited until the quaking of the humorless ducks had faded away, before lowering themselves into the dark wet pipe.
"God this pipe is so dark and wet." Frank said, pulling a spare shirt from his other pocket.
"I'll show you something else that's dark and wet." His probation officer said as she wrapped her cape around him.
As the cape covered his eyes the dark pipe became illuminated. He could feel the warmth of her breath, which was good, because he knew she wasn't a zombie. But did she know she wasn't a zombie?(sp>)
"This is no ordinary cape, uh, parol officer. How is it I've known you for all these years and yet I know nothing of your name?"
"Not now Frank, can't you hear it."
He let his ears wander and then he heard the slow waddle of ducks.
"They're close frank."
"Calm before the storm..."
The waddle of ducks paused. Franks heart skipped a beat. They met eyes and ran.
"Get to the highgrounds!!!" Yelled the officer.
"Were in a tube, there are no highgrounds!"
"If there are ducks there is also water nearby, if we dont find highground we're gonna have to fight the bastards on their terms."
A connecting tunnel sat just ahead. They ducked in and found themselves falling. Falling like big pig peaches. Peaches with big beaches. AND NO FAT CHICKS.
FUCK YEAH.
The ducks, knowing the terain, remained above, fearful of what was below.
Franks mind wandered. Does the african elephant hold fifteen gallons of water or does it prefer milk? Does it know it prefers milk?
At what velocity does milk have the potential energy to shatter the inside of the elephant? Does a broken elephant cry? Or does it sit there, taking it? I water. I rain. But if rain is a category of water, and milk is a liquid (meaning it MUST contain water) then it is irrelevant to even speak of the elephants gut!
AHHHHH A MONSTER OF CONFUSION AND IDOL. IT IS THE HORRIBLE FOURTH WALLY!
"Guys, i dont know if I can act that much like a monster right now. Try to understand what im saying, its early in the morning and i just put the kids to sleep. I cant be coming into a story ever time you want to write me"
Frank considered this and promptly replied, "Yes, but do you know if I know your not a zombie, wondering if you know your not a zombie? And what would it mean if our fourth wall character was in fact a zombie, but unkown to the viewer?"
"My god the concussive(sp?) forces alone could destroy half the city!"
The magnitude of these discussions concerned Frank Jaffers but not enough to ignore the sting of a 40 foot fall to cold sludge ice.
"You know, Im cold, but Id be colder if i wasnt wearing these long underwear" Jaffers noted to himself.
"Glug, glug" replied the officer.
"I got a joke for you officer." Jaffers stalled. "What do you call it when you shove pancakes down a woman's throat..............Date Crepe!!!!!"
"There are mice in my walls"
"I tell the best joke in the past 15 years and you worry about womens problems?"
"But I cant pay attention without the mice. They are like breathing in to me by now"
"This is just typical, yeah okay, fine."
A duck bellowed, "OH WHO ARE WE FOOLING, THIS DARING CHARADE WILL NEVER KEEP FROM THE HARSH LIGHT OF DISCOVERY"
"The duck is right. As an officer of the law, it is my duty to ejaculate onto your lap."
AHHH THE BURRITO NABBER. HE WILL STEAL TWO OF YOUR HIGH QUALITY BURRITOS.
How could a monster do this? He's not a monster, just misunderstood.
"Shut up fourth wally." Frank Jaffers realized that everything was degenerating into a series of non-sequitors. This was an old trick that the ducks use to confuse an opponent before they waddle in for the kill. Frank began spinning slowly at first, but quickly gaining speed. His parole officer had removed her Superman costume to reveal a smaller Superman costume under it. "Must find direction..." he was thinking in quotes. "I have to find some sort of direction." The Burrito Monster reached into Franks pocket and stole two of is best burritos that he had been saving. Four buisness men walked through the fray, talking about stock portfolios, beating their wives, and stiff competition.
The non-sequitors were flying and bouncing around the sewar tube at supersonic speeds, the only way Frank could see to stop the non-sequitors was to somehow communicate his plight to the writer. But he couldn't communicate with him/her/it, but he realized that right next to him, sobbing, was somebody who could. "Hey! Fourth wally!"
"Oh it's not enough frank, I try and I try and I try. He just, ..." she broke off, her lips quivered. Zombies limps don't quiver, frank hoped she knew she wasn't a zombie. "All I ever wanted was to make a good family, I thought I did alrite, you know. Now this, how hard is it for two people to just work. And think about the kids, they'll never understand."
"Pull yourself together god damn it! Zombies just confuse the issue! What you need to do is talk to the author before the non sequitors tear this place apart!" Fourth Wally began to cry harder. "You have to try!" The quacking echoed through sewars, the ducks were close.
"But my author is a collective!"
His parole officer shouted "WE GOTTA MOVE TO DELUTH AND START A JUG BAND!" Frank was beginning to loose hope.
"FINE!" Shouted Fourth Wally. "I'll try." Fourth Wally turned toward the author and shouted. "HEY!"
"What?" The author said, looking down whilst typing. Suddenly, to Fourth Wally's surprise, the authors face changed. Where as before he was a blond boy in a red robe who obviously needed to brush his teeth, now he had short black hair and a HIP t-shirt. "Shove over, let me get in the driver seat here. Alrite. Okay. I'm gonna blow your mind. I made you." The face shifts around. "Thats not gonna help them. Here hun, just do what you think is right, I'll stick up for you with these guys." Faces shifts back. "What kind of pussy shit is that?"
Frank looked around, the author wouldn't help him now. " a life as a woman in a Deluth Jug Band. "Superman this is no time to look for a life in the country." He grabbed her hand and they waded through the water.
------
"Old lady gives Young Woman sas, more on that when we return"
"Are your legs crampy? Do they need a huge boost of energy? Get the only ointment for more leg motion thats also edible!" *music chimes in* "Now when your kids feel like moving its not the same hassle its always been! You can rub our ointment all over your kids legs, and feed it to them too, it's lunch and fun together, only with SpreadaMule-S3X!"
"Earlier we told you about an old lady who's not just old, she gave a young woman sas, we turn to Howard Sadpatheticsoullesscreep for more"
"Yes Bob, more and more young women receive sas from the elderly, and no one knows just whats causing it. 'These kids and their drugs today' quoted the young woman, an excessively demure dog like woman. When asked to identify the rampaging elderly she near fainted in a flutter. If only our wives were more demure like this young lady, back to you bob."
"Men can dream Howard, next up is our 153 million part series on the best oral enhancement methods for pleasing your man."
------
"Mister! Hey Mister!"
The young boy shook the gibbering, hysterical man lying on the sidewalk. His eyes had rolled up in the back of his head, and he was spouting random words and drooling all over his jacket. The boy withdrew the man's wallet and began leafing through it.
"Frank Jaffers" he read aloud.
The boy set the wallet aside and resumed searching the man's pockets. He found a bottle of pills that read ANTI-HALLUCINOGENS in large, friendly letters written in Namby-Bamby font. Understanding, the boy attempted to open the bottle to retrieve the recommended dosage but the child-safety lock prevented him from doing so. A middle-aged businessman who happened to be walking by saw the boy struggling with the pill bottle and set his briefcase down.
"Give here you little faggot." he said contemptuously.
With no trouble he popped open the bottle and shoved two pills down Frank's throat.
"It's just a plastic bottle, Jesus Christ."
All of a sudden, Frank blinked, and sat up.
He looked at the pills in the businessman's hand and blushed.
"Thank you kind sir, I was having another one of my hallucination attacks. I forgot to take my pills earlier, I'm sure glad you stopped to help me."
"No thanks to this little shitstain." the businessman said, motioning to the small boy.
The small boy sniveled slightly, and then walked away sadly to develop a complex.
Frank stood up and brushed himself off. He looked over at a manhole, half uncovered. He heard faint quacking and decided that he better take another pill.
"Yeah, like I said," he continued to the businessman, "I get these hallucinations. It's like there are three or four guys inside my head 'writing' my thoughts for me, you know? I feel like I'm being observed in a small room, with three normal walls, and big gaping hole where the fourth wall should be, as if the fourth wall isn't there, like it's been taken away somehow."
Frank paused.
"GET IT?"
"No, we don't." Three or four voices replied. Frank sat back down on the sidewalk, listening for quacking, tried to make sense of
EVAN
DON'T
INTERRUPT
ME
ALSO I HAVE SOME CHOICE WORDS FOR YOU AS WELL NATE.
"Gah!" Frank said clutching his head. The hullucinations were continuing, now the voices were fighting with eachother!
HERE'S WHAT I HAVE TO SAY ABOUT THIS:but
IT IS MY OPINION, AS A PHILOSOPHY MAJOR...
AS AN UNINFORMED RETAIL EMPLOYEE, I FEEL QUALIFIED TO ASSESS THAT...
When would the madness end!? Frank knew what he had to do.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXOH YEAH!? WELL I WORK FOR THE FALLS CHURCH NEWS PRESS AND THIS JUST IN, ALEX IS A GIANT DOUCHE BAG.
I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT THE CURRENT DISCUSSION AT HAND IS, BUT LET ME WEIGH IN BY SAYING...XXXXXXXXX
"Frank," he whispered to himself and the other voices, "let me tell you a story about rabbits..." he said as he slowly put a gun to the back of his head, so he could not see it...
OH WOW SUICIDE REAL ORIG. Real orig asshole.aNAL. THAT'S GONNA BE A GREAT ENDING. REALLY, IT WILL, REALLY.
IT WAS A PARODY OF MICE AND MEN YOU STUPID ASSHOLEIT WAS A PARODY OF MICE AND MEN YOU STUPID ASSHOLEIT WAS A PARODY OF MICE AND MEN YOU STUPID ASSHOLEIT WAS A PARODY OF MICE AND MEN YOU STUPID ASSHOLEIT WAS A PARODY OF MICE AND MEN YOU STUPID ASSHOLEIT WAS A PARODY OF MICE AND MEN YOU STUPID ASSHOLEIT WAS A PARODY OF MICE AND MEN YOU STUPID ASSHOLEIT WAS A PARODY OF MICE AND MEN YOU STUPID ASSHOLEIT WAS A PARODY OF MICE AND MEN YOU STUPID ASSHOLEIT WAS A PARODY OF MICE AND MEN YOU STUPID ASSHOLEIT WAS A PARODY OF MICE AND MEN YOU STUPID ASSHOLEIT WAS A PARODY OF MICE AND MEN YOU STUPID ASSHOLETAKE THAT
FRANK IS A LOSER CHARACTER, HE DOESN'T TEST WELL AMONG BLACK REPUBLICAN OKLAHOMANS AGED 13-29 OUR KEY DEMOGRAPHIC
He put down his gun because he agreed that it really would be a cop out. Frank had never even read Of Mice and Men.
"All of you shut up! Can't you see that this collabrative story project is tearing your friendship apart!?"X
"Oh no, hereeeeee I go again!" said Frank
Wow guys, in our effort to write the greatest story ever, we forgot what really matters in life. It isn't good stories, or punchy lines or pretentious allusions X
YEAH PUSH OVER FRANK. XGO DEEP FRY A TOFU OR SOME SHIT. SPINELESS CREEP, YOUR OUR IMAGINARY FRIEND.X
FUCK THIS I'M JUST GOING TO START "X"ING EVERYTHING I DISAGREE X
Come on guys, we can do this! Together! YAY!
if u don't want to cyber then shut up and get out
TXT 228822 FR HT PHN TXT SX, LV GRLS WAITING NOW!
15/f/FL
Press 22 if u lyke sublyme
29/m/ht bod/lking for agrsv TOP
Guys your not being very constructiXXXXXXXXXX
At an internet cafe is Deluth one male stripper and one proffesional slut have a cup of coffe. The coffe is burnt and the feXXXXXX
Well I guess the moral of this story is that three people can't work on the same story at the same time without it turning into some sort of metaphore about cooks and broth or something.
SARTRE WAS A HUGE FAG FYI
case in point
touche young son
Satre does not blow. Satre is more existential than you'll ever be in your whole life.
My dad divorced my mother when I was four
Frank reflected that he was no longer part of the story at all.
Oh boo fucking hoo "Me me me it's all about me, the protagonist of the story, everyone look at me."
Frank regretted ever scratching his nose and ever becoming part of this crappy story.
---
Frank could not reconcile the nature of his exsistence. Where before, he was nothing but a blank digital paper, he was then crafted in a fiery tumult. The mind of four men were as catalyst for the furnace of his creation. So after the sudden abadonment of his makers he could not let himself succomb to their whim. He knew he must fight his fictional form and become: Fictoral Ralea.
He will scour the planet, embrace poor writing styles, used cliches, and bad story lines. So he will become the martyr of these and his character will be wretche with disease. Yet the darkening day of popular fiction will find new light as the much of Ann Coulter, crap novels, Bill Orielly™ for Kids!, and Daniel Steel are sucked into eternal solitude in the soul of Frank Jaffers.
Frank Jaffers. I annoint you our lord and savior of the written word, go forth and let they're gramatical errors consume you.
---