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...It was funny. I laughed.
Alternately, it feels like I haven't written anything with actual characters in YEARS. While in reality, it has only been about...half a week! Wow. That's not very long at all. That's actually kind of pathetic. Okay. Okay, I'm going to go get the paper bag now. The Paper Bag of Shame.
_____
| | Bow
|O O| Before
| | The Paper Bag
|/\/\/\/| of Shame.
Am I done being random now? No, dearies, not in the slightest. Feel free to run away screaming if you want to, I won't be offended.
...Well, maybe a little. But not much.
So without further ado, here is a tiny little FlashDevelopment story-like thing. In which there is a character called Pheobe, lederhosen, a cherry slurpee and far too many bees. And wherein I try desperately to sound funny. Desperately.
Crash
So nobody's denying that Pheobe was weird. And when I say weird, I do mean the weird kind of weird. The kind of weird that people don't particularily like.
It was, though, partially her fault. Nobody forced her to wear lederhosen to class on the first day at her new school and people are people, okay; when you look outlandish, they're going to talk.
I think it frustrated her. But I wouldn't know.
"Do you want a slurpee, Joel? I want a slurpee. One of the cherry ones. Do you think they have those in heaven? If that's where we are, I mean; we might not be in heaven. Being in Hell would be interesting, but only if you got to meet somebody imoprtant. Don't you think, Joel?"
With the way things played out, though, I probably will.
See, I might have been drunk. And I might have been swerving, just a little. And there might have been another car on the road. And that car might have been swerving too, on purpose, and we may or may not have collided head-to-head.
But I'm not admitting to anything.
"Joel. Jo-el. Hm. your name has a nice ring to it, I never noticed before. Sort of like...a chord! Or bells; bells ring. And alarm clocks. And your ears, when you hit your head really hard. And phones. And...and, you know, other things. Joel? Joel, are you listening to me?"
I think Pheobe has ADHD, but she might just be peculiar like that. I mean strange. Because peculiar's a girl word, and a nerd-girl word at that. And it's from Alice, which I HAVEN'T read. Really. I haven't. So don't act like I have.
...Really.
"You know, being dead is really weird, Joel. It's like...it's like I'm alive but I'm NOT, Joel, and I know I'm not but it feels like I am and it's weird. Doesn't it feel like that, Joel? Doesn't it still feel like you're alive?"
Yes. Yes it does. And quite frankly, it scares me that this fact doesn't freak you out.
"I'm glad I was wearing this outfit when I died, aren't you? I always thought that when I died I'd want to be wearing my lederhosen. And a tye-dye t-shirt. Tye-dye is amazing, don't you think, Joel? I learned how to do it at summer camp. I could teach you if you wanted."
Why yes, thank you, Pheobe. Because I wouldn't know what to do with my afterlife if I didn't know how to dye clothing.
"You're being all broody, Jo-el, but I don't mind. Hey, when you died your brain ws sort of sticking out and stuff. You could poke it. It looked kinda squishy."
That's really gross, Pheobe, why would you tell me that?
"Oh, but don't worry, Joel. I didn't touch it."
I never thought those words of all things would bring me comfort.
"Do you know what my one regret was in life, Joel? My one regret was that I never got to eat pudding with a spork. It would have been different from eating pudding from a spoon, I think, because of the prongs, but kinda cool because you can't eat it with a fork and--"
"What are you talking about?" I yell.
She stares at me blankly.
"You've never heard of sporks?" she asks, "They're like a spoon and a fork, but put together, and--"
I groan.
"Oh Joel! Are you okay? Does your brain hurt? Did I say something? I can stop talking about sporks if you want, I didn't know it would have that effect on you, oh, I'll stop talking now...Joel?"
...
"Are those bees?"
And that's when I black out.
Heh, annoying characters. My specialty.
Laters.
---
-Bot
...It was funny. I laughed.
Alternately, it feels like I haven't written anything with actual characters in YEARS. While in reality, it has only been about...half a week! Wow. That's not very long at all. That's actually kind of pathetic. Okay. Okay, I'm going to go get the paper bag now. The Paper Bag of Shame.
_____
| | Bow
|O O| Before
| | The Paper Bag
|/\/\/\/| of Shame.
Am I done being random now? No, dearies, not in the slightest. Feel free to run away screaming if you want to, I won't be offended.
...Well, maybe a little. But not much.
So without further ado, here is a tiny little FlashDevelopment story-like thing. In which there is a character called Pheobe, lederhosen, a cherry slurpee and far too many bees. And wherein I try desperately to sound funny. Desperately.
Crash
So nobody's denying that Pheobe was weird. And when I say weird, I do mean the weird kind of weird. The kind of weird that people don't particularily like.
It was, though, partially her fault. Nobody forced her to wear lederhosen to class on the first day at her new school and people are people, okay; when you look outlandish, they're going to talk.
I think it frustrated her. But I wouldn't know.
"Do you want a slurpee, Joel? I want a slurpee. One of the cherry ones. Do you think they have those in heaven? If that's where we are, I mean; we might not be in heaven. Being in Hell would be interesting, but only if you got to meet somebody imoprtant. Don't you think, Joel?"
With the way things played out, though, I probably will.
See, I might have been drunk. And I might have been swerving, just a little. And there might have been another car on the road. And that car might have been swerving too, on purpose, and we may or may not have collided head-to-head.
But I'm not admitting to anything.
"Joel. Jo-el. Hm. your name has a nice ring to it, I never noticed before. Sort of like...a chord! Or bells; bells ring. And alarm clocks. And your ears, when you hit your head really hard. And phones. And...and, you know, other things. Joel? Joel, are you listening to me?"
I think Pheobe has ADHD, but she might just be peculiar like that. I mean strange. Because peculiar's a girl word, and a nerd-girl word at that. And it's from Alice, which I HAVEN'T read. Really. I haven't. So don't act like I have.
...Really.
"You know, being dead is really weird, Joel. It's like...it's like I'm alive but I'm NOT, Joel, and I know I'm not but it feels like I am and it's weird. Doesn't it feel like that, Joel? Doesn't it still feel like you're alive?"
Yes. Yes it does. And quite frankly, it scares me that this fact doesn't freak you out.
"I'm glad I was wearing this outfit when I died, aren't you? I always thought that when I died I'd want to be wearing my lederhosen. And a tye-dye t-shirt. Tye-dye is amazing, don't you think, Joel? I learned how to do it at summer camp. I could teach you if you wanted."
Why yes, thank you, Pheobe. Because I wouldn't know what to do with my afterlife if I didn't know how to dye clothing.
"You're being all broody, Jo-el, but I don't mind. Hey, when you died your brain ws sort of sticking out and stuff. You could poke it. It looked kinda squishy."
That's really gross, Pheobe, why would you tell me that?
"Oh, but don't worry, Joel. I didn't touch it."
I never thought those words of all things would bring me comfort.
"Do you know what my one regret was in life, Joel? My one regret was that I never got to eat pudding with a spork. It would have been different from eating pudding from a spoon, I think, because of the prongs, but kinda cool because you can't eat it with a fork and--"
"What are you talking about?" I yell.
She stares at me blankly.
"You've never heard of sporks?" she asks, "They're like a spoon and a fork, but put together, and--"
I groan.
"Oh Joel! Are you okay? Does your brain hurt? Did I say something? I can stop talking about sporks if you want, I didn't know it would have that effect on you, oh, I'll stop talking now...Joel?"
...
"Are those bees?"
And that's when I black out.
Heh, annoying characters. My specialty.
Laters.
---
-Bot