Hell For Certain, Kentucky Superthread

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Screwtape2 said:
So a car door was shut on my left index finger yesterday. It hurts and I can only type one hand so forgive the slowness of my posts.
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:yikes:

Don't go insane. I know I do when I am forced to type slowly. That's why I never learnt to touch type; it was too slow and frustrating. :crack:
 
omg how sad, they found an injured pit bull on the side of the road that they think was used as bait for a dogfight
cry.gif
 
LemonMelon said:


It's done. I'll post it when the next page starts, because it's very long, and I want it to be more visible.
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But will this suit those of us who view 10 posts to a page? :tsk:
 
and i saw a dog who must've just been hit by a car on our way home yesterday, and another dog was wandering on the side of the interstate pretty close by. it was so sad to see, if it hadn't been a busy interstate i would've tried to see if we could pull over and at least move the poor pup to the side of the road
cry.gif


i'm a sucker for animals :sigh:
 
Ah, hell, I'll post it now.

Paragraph: With this playlist, my intentions were to delve into the essence of being, and death of the soul involved with celebrity. The music follows suit, telling a loose story about a mouse named Richard who saves his kingdom from the evil Fire Witch and becomes a hero, but his fame destroys him. This is told quite directly in track 1. During track 2, he becomes nearly homicidal due to his own hatred of mankind and brooding sadness. In track 3 he goes off into a psychedelic dreamworld to find the source of life and death itself. Track 4 is a surreal combination of thought and substance that never quite blossoms into something more. Yet this is beautiful. Axver helped me discover new genres and musical avenues during the making of this list, which caused me to admit the error of my commercial ways, so it may be slightly different than what you're used to hearing from me. But, rest assured, it's a sensory experience that is atmospheric, thrilling, and enlightening all at once. Please refer to the following short story for a more thorough description.

PROLOGUE

I'm a rodent. Not one of great importance, though we rarely attempt to reach such great heights. Eating out of the trash and observing man do as they please, filthy wretches they are...They think I want cheese, but I want love. The love of a woman. Orgasm. Melanathia is my home. It is beautiful. As beautiful as life can be. It floats in the sky, or so it feels to me. We live in pure moisture; the clouds. Storms rumble below us, so we do not feel them. But they're there. Man is the creator of death and disenchantment. But they don't believe me. I don't believe me. Who am I?

CHAPTER 1 - THE FIRE WITCH AND ME

In my apathetic delirium I once propped my head up and saw a strangely-shaped cloud. It wasn't of anvil or penis. Neither cheese, nor was it cirrus. No, it was black. Black as rain. Black as my wretched soul. But no one noticed; they said it was a rain cloud. And it was, actually. But then another cloud appeared and this time it was DOOM. The Fire Witch from northern Firetithia came to destroy us all and wipe the slate clean. At the time, I figured it was a horrible thing for her to do. Nay, a WRETCHED thing. But what could I do? I was but a simple mouse. She brought her armies toward us. We believed in peace and love. We were fools. She easily defeated us and wiped us away, excepting a remnant. They banned together and became the Dissenters. A group of brave men (not many women, however; those were different times) that would stop at nothing to defeat the Fire Witch and her evil army. They were set to battle on the Ice Caps of northern Melanathia. However, that day was of particularly great warmth and, arriving early, the Dissenters were washed away and promptly died instantly. Hearing about this, my heroic instincts instantly kicked in. Not knowing about vodka or Bailey's at the time, I rushed to their aid without thought. Running through the barren shopping center, now filled with soot, skeletons, and foreskins, I avoided the men who, for reasons I did not know at the time, were trying to kill me. I thought they meant well. Bastards. I entered the palace of the Fire Witch through a crack in the door and entered a room filled with swords, machetes, maces, and this clear liquid that I did not know the name of at the time. I drank some in my thirst, grabbed a sword and a mace and went out into the hall. There, some ogres were waiting for me, and an epic battle with them and the Knights Of Firetithia ensued.

CHAPTER 2 - I TAKE PART IN AN EPIC BATTLE AND FIND OUT SOMETHING COOL ABOUT THE FIRE WITCH

Somehow, possibly due to the liquid I drank earlier, I wasted them all quite easily. From that day forward, I dubbed this liquid "Powerjuice", because the juice gave me great power. From there, I walked up the stairs, only to find that the door was locked. So, after waiting a while for someone to open it for me, I got annoyed at sat the container next the door, which opened instantly, likely out of fear. Inside was a room with a piece of paper inside that told the secret weakness of the Fire Witch. To no surprise to me or anyone else, it was water. Cool.

CHAPTER 3 - EPIC BATTLE WITH THE FIRE WITCH THAT I'M TOTALLY GOING TO WIN

Then, behind me, appeared the Fire Witch. She was wearing a bikini, which would ordinarily be a turn-on, but she was about 200 years old, so it was just really distracting. In her anger and shock that her secret was found out, she attempted to set the paper on fire, which made no sense because I already knew what was on it. Then, right when she had her back turned, I chugged some Powerjuice and gave her a roundhouse kick to the head, which sent her flying through the solid concrete walls and into a telephone pole. She was sent to a hospital and made a full recovery, but I still totally won and everybody thought I was a hero. Her minions took a bus back home and the kingdom was saved thanks to me, and the liquid called Powerjuice that I discovered that day.

CHAPTER 4 - REVELING IN MY SUCCESS

That day, the crowds were all around me. It was a glorious and incredibly dark circus. Like a circus filled with clowns from that movie "It". I was regaled with harps and flutes, the likes of which I had never heard before. They weren't particularly enjoyable to me, but I appreciated the effort, fool that I was. During this time, I found a fellow mouse that I felt I could settle down with, possibly with thoughts of partaking in the soul-sucking, destructive ritual known as marriage. We did partake of this and had several offspring, all of which were horrible disappointments to me. I spent my days cowering in the corner of our basement, shivering in the cold deadness of being, knowing that if I were to do otherwise the vultures would surround me with pens and pieces of paper that they wished for me to write on. Those were dark days. I spent much time reading about humans and wondering why they were so cruel and hateful to one another, and why they worshiped their wallet as they did, to the detriment of those around them. I loathed mankind, and myself for being amongst them. I learned much during this time and have never turned back. Men are animals. And now that you know my story, I will share with you an epic poem that I wrote during this period of my life.

CHAPTER 5 - THE SOUND OF SILENCE

Death. Death. Death. Death. Death. Death. Death. Death. Death. Death. Death. Death. Death. Death. Death. Death. Death. Death. Death. Death. Death. Death. Death. Death. Death. Death. Death. Death. Death. Death. Death. Death. Death. Death. Death. Death. Death. Death. Death. Death. Death. Death. Death. Death. Death. Death. Death. Death. Death. Death. Death. Death. Death. Death. Death. Death. Death. Death. Death. Death. Death. Death. Death. Death. Death. Death. Death. Death. Death. Death. Death. Death. Death. Death. Death. Death. Death. Death. Death. Death. Death. Death. Death. Death. Death. Death. Death. Death. Death. Death. Death. Death. Death. Death. Death. Death. Dying. Dying. Dying. Dying. Dying. Dying. Dying. Dying. Dying. Dying. Dying. Dying. Dying. Dying. Dying. Dying. Dying. Dying. Dying. Dying. Dying. Dying. Dying. Dying. Dying. Dying. Dying. Dying. Dying. Dying. Dying. Dying. Dying. Dying. Dying. Dying. Dying. Dying. Dying. Dying. Dying. Dying. Dying. Dying. Dying. Dying. Dying. Dying. Dying. Dying. Dying. Dying. Dying. Dying. Dying. Dying. Dying. Dying. Dying. Dying. Dying. Dying. Dying. Dying. Dying. Dying. Dying. Dying. Dying. Dying. Dying. Dying. Dying. Dying. Dying. Dying. Dying. Dying. Dying. Dying. Dying. Dying. Dying. Dying. Dying. Dying. Dying. Dying. Dying. Dying. Dying. Dying. Dying. Dying. Dying. Dying. Dying. Dying. Dying. Dying. Dying. Dying. Dying. Dying. Sadness. Sadness. Sadness. Sadness. Sadness. Sadness. Sadness. Sadness. Sadness. Sadness. Sadness. Sadness. Sadness. Sadness. Sadness. Sadness. Sadness. Sadness. Sadness. Sadness. Sadness. Sadness. Sadness. Sadness. Sadness. Sadness. Sadness. Sadness. Sadness. Sadness. Sadness. Sadness. Sadness. Sadness. Sadness. Sadness. Sadness. Sadness. Sadness. Sadness. Sadness. Sadness. Sadness. Sadness. Sadness. Sadness. Sadness. Sadness. Sadness. Sadness. Sadness. Sadness. Sadness. Sadness. Sadness. Sadness. Sadness. Sadness. Sadness. Sadness. Sadness. Sadness. Sadness. Sadness. Sadness. Sadness. Sadness. Sadness. Sadness. Sadness. Sadness. Sadness. Sadness. Sadness. Sadness. Sadness. Sadness. Sadness. Sadness. Sadness. Sadness. Sadness. Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. Know. Know. Know. Know. Know. Know. Know. Know. Know. Know. Know. Know. Know. Know. Know. Know. Know. Know. Know. Know. Know. Know. Know. Know. Know. Know. Know. Know. Know. Know. Know. Know. Know. Know. Know. Know. Know. Know. Know. Know. Know. Know. Know. Know. Know. Know. Know. Know. Know. Know. Know. Know. Know. Know. Know. Know. Know. Know. Know. Know. Know. Know. Know. Know. Know. Know. Know. Know. Know. Know. Know. Know. Know. Know. Know. Know. Know. Know. Know. Know. Know. Know. Know. Know. Know. Know. Know. Know. Know. Know. Know. But. But. But. But. But. But. But. But. But. But. But. But. But. But. But. But. But. But. But. But. But. But. But. But. But. But. But. But. But. But. But. But. But. But. But. But. But. But. But. But. But. But. But. But. But. But. But. But. But. But. But. But. But. But. But. But. But. But. But. But. Do. Do. Do. Do. Do. Do. Do. Do. Do. Do. Do. Do. Do. Do. Do. Do. Do. Do. Do. Do. Do. Do. Do. Do. Do. Do. Do. Do. Do. Do. Do. Do. Do. Do. Do. Do. Do. Do. Do. Do. Do. Do. Do. Do. Do. Do. Do. Do. Do. Do. Do. Do. Do. Do. Do. Do. Do. Do. Do. Do. Do. Do. Do. Do. Do. Do. Do. Do. Do. Do. Do. Do. Do. Do. Do. Do. Do. Do. Do. Do. Do. Do. You? You? You? You? You? You? You? You? You? You? You? You? You? You? You? You? You? You? You? You? You? You? You? You? You? You? You? You? You? You? You? You? You? You? You? You? You? You? You? You? You? You? You? You? You? You? You? You? You? You? You? You? You? You? You? You? You? You? You? You? You? You? You? You? You? You?

CHAPTER 6 - SOME MAGIC MUSHROOMS A GNOME GAVE ME

One day I awoke, mind crowded with thoughts and blurred with whiskey sour, when I heard a rapping on my door. A gnome appeared at the door, apparently a fan. Before I had time to retrieve my pistol, he walked in the door, and I thought of only the ugliest things. He sat down on my sofa, feet shuffling, and set a basket covered with a cloth on the table next to him. With pistol now in hand, I somehow gathered the kindness to ask him who he was and what he wanted with me. He told me that he was a fan, not of my skill of murdering witches, but of the my writing; something that had been extolled on one of those newfangled webpage things. I think it was called Pitchfork or something. Anyway, he brought good tidings, and suggested that I look to psychedelic substances in order to come out of my brooding sadness. I told him to go fuck himself and he left, leaving behind his basket. It was filled with mushrooms, blue, green, and orange in color. I planned to use them as part of my dinner later; it's his own fault for leaving them behind, I figured. Using my bamboo-handled skillet, I fried them, which caused the mushrooms to glow fluorescently. At first I thought it was caused naturally by the heat, but then the door drove by in a convertible and waved at me. As I stood there, breathing in the fumes with mouth agape, my mind seemed to create a world of its own, free from suffering, but also free from life and color. I knew what I had to do; I had to travel deep into my consciousness and find the center of life and death itself. I took a bite of the mushroom and my journey began.

CHAPTER 7 - THE MIND-EXPANDING JOURNEY

My mind. It was filled with...colors. But yet...they were dulled. I knew this new fantasy I had concocted was not truly perfect. Nor was I. Because I created it. But I dared not think, because every time I did the walls began to cave in. Yes, there were walls. Not sure why there were walls...I just suck, I guess. It was all very cocoon-esque, though far more perilous, but the hope of personal discovery was there, I felt. Of course, I was high on shrooms at the time, so whatever. On my way to find the center of life itself, I found out what the meaning of life was. It was this small room filled with these nerdy-looking men(?) who were discussing The Hitchhikers Guide To The Galaxy. I've always hated that movie. The light was growing brighter. It was a halo of transcendence that no one man could comprehend. I felt lonely. It was quiet. Yet I was not really alone, for I was near life. Life itself.

CHAPTER 8 - AWAKENING

I then awoke because my landlord jabbed me with a broom. Bastard. I never did get to discuss things with the center of life itself, but I can only assume that he knew more than I did about...life. I then made some tea, sat down, and contemplated for a very long time. About what I have no idea.

EPILOGUE

Anyway, the point of all this is that mankind is an abstract concept created by the sea to decide the destiny of the ocean and its adjacent rivers. We are nothing. Not even I, the greatest hero of the 20th (and, thanks to indietastic webpages that discuss my brilliant writing, 21st) century. Beauty, creativity, and the construction of friendships are simply ways of using up time, air, and precious nutrients. This is proven true by the music man creates. Who cares about it, really? It's all hope deferred, and desire is seldom fulfilled.

THE END
 
Screwtape2 said:


What inspired the first person point of view? It is a nice touch.
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I wanted the character to actually have a personality (in this case, a very dark, hateful one), in contrast to the biographical way most fantasy stories are written, which usually make their characters out to be heroes, with not as much inner monologue used.
 
LemonMelon said:


The best part? That story is going to be posted in Every. Single. DI poll. It can't be avoided.
Click to expand...

:lol:

See, the reason I began using LJ posts for extended detail was to avoid cluttering the posts here. Not enough people have followed suit. :down:
 
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