Showing posts with label story. Show all posts
Showing posts with label story. Show all posts

Monday, January 24, 2011

A Plea On Behalf of My Sanity

(note: the following is a piece of creative writing with the intention of making my roommate clean up his shit)

I couldn't have known it would have ended like this. It was so innocent. So simple. And now I huddle here, in the desolation that used to be the vibrant, active athletic center of my campus, armed with nothing but a rowing oar I found in the crew locker room. I fear I have little time. I chronicle the beginning of this event so that future generations can learn from our mistakes, and perhaps...blame someone.

We're college students. I mean, no one wants to wash dishes. Sure, when Quin ate that easy mac no one thought the bowl would be clean any time soon, but we couldn't have anticipated this.

Weeks went by. The bowl sat on the dresser top. It became almost a joke. "Oh yeah Quin it's cool, don't clean that bowl, it's practically part of the room now. Decorative!" Everyone laughed. No one is laughing now...they're all gone.

It started with the dreams. Horribly vivid scenes of cheese crusted bowls suffocating people by diving onto their faces like facehuggers from Alien. As one is wont to do, I just dismissed them as nightmares. I should have seen it coming. I should have stopped this. But I'd be damned if I was going to wash that dish. It wasn't mine, let Quin wash his own crap.

A few weeks later, I started hearing whispers in my ear. Malicious whispers. Their blood will be on your hands, Erich. It said. I was afraid, but what could I do? I couldn't tell anyone what was happening, they'd think I was crazy! Maybe I thought I was crazy too. Maybe that's why I didn't reach out. "Tomorrow I go home for Christmas break," I told myself. "Quin will clean the bowl before he leaves, I'll have a month off, and everything will be fine."

Upon returning to campus I met up with my roommate before even going back to the room. We had lunch and then decided to go back to our room. "It'll be nice to see the room without that stupid bowl of mac&cheese." I laughed.

"Nah, bro, I didn't have time to clean that thing before I left, so it's still in there." He laughed as he inserted his key into the lock. It was the last sentence he ever spoke.

He opened the door and some...thing attacked him. It was a golem made of cheese and fungus with razor sharp macaroni noodles for teeth. It's jaws closed around Quin's head and my roommate was no more.
Forgive me, I had little time, but this is essentially what it looked like. Terrifying I know.


The beast looked at me and I swear it grinned, it's teeth filled with the remains of my roommate. I cried out for help and began to ran. More people came into the hall to see what the commotion was about. I didn't look behind me as a ran, but I know they met the same fate as Quin.

It's been six days since then. I feel the beast has been purposely avoiding hunting me down. He's making me watch what I have wrought. Making me sit by and observe as everyone else on campus suffers for what I have done...or what I didn't do.

But campus is nearly empty, and he's running out of targets. It will be my time soon. I shall fight the beast to the best of my ability. I shall try to stop him. But he has grown too powerful, and I feel I shall join the ranks of the lost. And for this I am sorry.

(Sorry if this post is a little different from regularly scheduled content, but seriously Quin, clean your shit up. This bowl is going to achieve sentience soon, and if these events come to pass it will be all my fault. Hope you guys liked this)

Sunday, January 16, 2011

You're Gonna Do WHAT to Me Now?

I almost got raped one time.

Ok so that isn't entirely true, but it really draws your attention, doesn't it? In actuality I just kind got threatened to be raped in a really roundabout way. Let me explain.

I used to work at a pizza shop. Now my neighborhood is not exactly an upscale area, so we had the occasional druggie, drunkard, or just scary-as-shit customer come into our establishment every now and again. The thing was...this guy didn't look like any of these archetypes.
 Pictured: someone who fits the description "Scary-as-shit"

Our drinks at the time came in three sizes: small, medium, and large, because we were original in that way. To further complicate this drink situation, the cups that they came in were disposable. I know this is difficult to wrap your head around, or at least that's what this man led me to believe, so you may need to go back and read that description of the drinks again.

This fine fellow enters our establishment wondering if he could have a cup. I thought this was pretty much a non-issue, but my manager explained to me that we could not simply give a cup away due to inventory and price per cup and whatnot. It didn't seem like a big deal to me to give away one cup, but my manager wanted me to charge the man 40 cents for the cup, and I wasn't going to argue.

Well, this man could not wrap his brain around the idea that the cup was not free, leading to the following exchange taking place:

Me: I can give you a cup but I have to charge you 40 cents for it if that's ok.
Fine Fellow (hereafter abbreviated as FF): ...wha?
Me: I know, sorry, it's just that we don't keep the cups so we have to pay for them, and my manager wants me to charge you for the cup so that it doesn't throw inventory out of whack or something.
FF: ...THE F**K YOU TALKIN' ABOUT?
Me: Sorry, I have to.
FF: You know what? When I was in PRISON, people got RAPED for shit like this!!!

People get raped for such trivial things in prison.

Now I would like you to note that the word raped is in caps, bolded, italicized and underlined because I need you to know just how much he emphasized this word. He wanted me to know that unless he got his cup, the pants were coming off.

I didn't know what to do...so I kinda laughed at him

Fine Fellow did not care for that. His face turned a shade of purple normally reserved for eggplants and Barney. He became quite flustered, mostly incoherent, shouting on about prison time and all sorts of mean things. I didn't really know how to handle the situation. 

Thankfully, my boss did. He came out of the back wielding a metal pizza shovel yelling in Italian and chased the man out of his restaurant.

Just a normal day at my job...