Friday, March 07, 2003
The Politically Correct Gingerbread Person
Part 2
The gingerbread man awoke with the type of throbbing skull only a man with a bannana lodged into his ear can know. He shook himself slightly, examing the cracked shards of ginger which fell briskly from his flesh, his one remaining eye twisting in it's socket like some sort of hideous, shriveled...raisin.
Boy, it had been one of those nights.
The nights he was refering to, of course, were the type of nights one got their feet lodged into the neck of a rather obese man, and was slowly inhaled into the pockets of flesh. Yes, one of THOSE nights. Those type of nights his mother warned him about when she had accidentally left the gas stove on. He had grown up with such wizdom, and hence, he had been perfectly prepared when his attempt at assasination had fallen "short", or, as the "Police" liked to put it, "Oh dear god the drugs really never do wear off."
He was incarcerated. The cells beyond his own contained the hideous descriptions of society, scratching blindly at the bars with their mangled claws...a few feet away, he heard the familiar, feminine voice of a music star, and to his left, the chipped cackling of the republican party.
The old woman had even viciously turned on him like hawk on the end of rubber tether;she had efficently identified him as the insane cookie which had escaped her confines. The police had then rather forecefully dragged her away to a small, white room where she would recieve her "Reward". Some were just plain lucky.
He gazed into the perturbed darkness, and slowly drifted off into a troubled sleep, to face the same recurring nightmare where he awoke to find himself confronted by a talking orange and a man named Brady. ONe day, he would learn what this cryptic message attempted to teach. For now...
He drifted intothe subconscious the blissful toon of Thriller, and a man offering the guards Cookies and Milk.
Wednesday, March 05, 2003
The Politically Correct Gingerbread Person
Part 2
Michael was a member of (sadly) societies best, the elected leaders of their well cultured city. Hence, it was not with surprise which he viewed the small man approach him across the desk holding a well sharpened pencil. This was just like all the other nights when he doled out the cocaine for th---err, worked on gaining votes. Yes, if he jst passed out on the floor like always he'd awaken returned to the confines of his office. However, he slowly began to realize that it was not yet 2:00 PM, and hence he should not be hi---medicated for another good hour or so! In which case, the strange creature strolling ever closer was either the result of him cracking ANY of his joints, or...
"Mmmmm...cookie...." The man drooled, stretching out his green-stained fingers.
He felt a dull, familiar sense inside of his brain, and slowly registered it as FEELING. Yes, his hand was in pain!
He glanced down towards his hand.
3 hours later, his jaw quietly unhinged. THE LITTLE MAN HAD STABBED HIM TROUGH THE HAND!!! He gazed at the pencil, and slowly rose his eyes to the small, shriveled brown shard which stood before him.
"Grand-ma?!" He...err...lip-flapped...
The small figure shook it's gingery skull.
"AHHHHHHHH!!! ATTACK OF THE CRAP!! IT'S BACK, WITH A VENGEANCE!!!" THe man shrieked, elevating his blood-pressure to a positive rate, and hence resulting in a heart-attack.
"Oh, for the love of---err, religious objects!" The small figured exclaimed, and instantly dove to the man's assistance! The man felt instant gratitude as he realized the little figure would assist him, and indeed, it began it's own unique form of CPR which seemed to involve ramming the pencil into the side of his neck repeatedly!
"WHAT IS THIS????? I'VE LOST MY PENCIL IN THE FLAB!!" The little figure screamed, then it's shrieks grew louder as it realized its feet were slowly being swallowed, "WHAT ARE YOU??!!! WHAT SORT OF OBESE JACK ASS---Oh, oh dear god, my apologies, ehem, WHAT SORT OF AMERICAN ARE YOU?!!!"
"Mommy says I'm ones of the special ones!" The man (The following verb involves disturbing and horrific images on the aprt of the character portraying them. If you can not handle horrific and disgusting scenes, please, for THE LOVE OF GOD, cover your eyes) laughed.
"AHHHHHHHHH!! SOMEONE!!! PLEEEAAASEEEEE!!!" THe gingerbread man screamed, struggling to swim against the (Yes, yes indeed) Current, "It's just not fair!!! OH MY GOD!!! I'VE LOST ONE OF MY EYES!!! NOOOO!!!" The small man shrieked as the large man's eyes clouded over (Just on time, 5:00 sharp), and he passed quietly away into the darkness. Even as his brain quietly closed down, and every thought process dissolved, he still had enough ability to consider the fact that this should not be happening YET...no one had asked him to make a descision!
And with that, 1/5 of his hearts failed.
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