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The Melancholy Army
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The Story of Fast Eddie the Flukeworm
Once upon a time there was this BIG mouse, and in this mouse lived a BIG
parasite named Eddie. Eddie wasn't your average flukeworm type. Eddie
was a divorce lawyer who was down on his luck. He kept trying to move up
in the world, but he couldn't find a job or a place to live or classes
that he liked, so he just lived in this stinkin' mouse. The stinkin'
mouse was getting old, too, and pretty soon he kicked, and left Fast
Eddie to shoot himself in the head. The End.
He laughed.
He always laughed at his jokes, that was his job. Crowds of people were looking at him, gasping in horror. This was the part of the job that he always liked, the crowds. It was fine and dandy when he was in his bathroom as a child, practicing, but it's the people that always reminded him why he did this. This grotesque thing that he does. Beside him, a man with a goatee was yelling into a microphone, yelling "WORSHIP!" over and over, commanding the wide-eyed people to bow. Cracking his oh-so-stupid puns left and right, the yelling man was having the time of his life. Even when he has to stick broken glass in his face, he's still on cloud nine. That crazy son of a bitch. The thing is though, people love him. His perverse attitude turns people on, well... most people. Enigma plays on his organ like a clown on amphetamines, his sweaty body strongly resembling a puzzle. "That gimp" he thought. Enigma was the most animal of them all. He ate bugs, as in maggots, crickets, and earthworms. He continued in his performance, pushing through the skin on his forearm. The crowd goes wild, he notices a few pass out. It's funny how the skin is so elastic, a sharp pin doesn't quite go through that easily. One has to push around, breaking the connective tissue, before breaking through on the other side. Apparently, people aren't used to seeing someone placing assorted pins through select body parts. He didn't see himself as bad as some of the others though, He certainly wasn't as bad as Lifto, or the dreaded Enigma. The only one he semi-identified with was Matt Crowley, but he wasn't there now. Now, all there was was him, The screaming idiot, Enigma, bright lights, and about a thousand people of assorted age, sex, color, nationality, and constitution being grossed out by what he was doing. The man with the facial hair was still yelling, but he was pointing toward him, as if telling him to do something. "Let's see how good this crowd is" he thought to himself, as he was preparing for his next trick. The screaming man's name is Jim Rose, and he's yelling "BOW TO THE TORTURE KING!!!!!!"
to be continued...
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For The Education of Young Predators Guess what kiddies! You actually can kill yourself with marijuana!! The fatal dosage is only one metric shitload (3/4 ton) inhaled or ingested in a 15 minute period. Don't give up! We know you can do it! You may have to leave campus, though, since you can't fit that much in your dorm room. |