Author: zornog

it’s killing thousands of people, whatever this mutation is. it’s gotten into the bloodstream and can be transmitted through simple skin contact. in fact it acts like it doesn’t work until you touch another human being, then, there’s something about the transmission that activates it. that’s why i’ve got the gloves, that’s why i’m clothed head to toe. they, the government, they advocated this, you can see the funding in earmarks in hundreds of bills over the past twenty years. after MK ultra was dropped they started funding biological warfare, they developed cancer, sean, they developed cancer. they can kill the president with a heart attack, what makes you think they wouldn’t be able to do it through a simple handshake? these people are plotting the downfall of america, one cancer at a time. so. you can forgive me not giving you a hug. i know it’s been a while but i value your life and i know you value mine, so let’s not give each other malignant cancer.

you’ve got all these people running down the street. just a mass of people, running away. now, where you gonna go? you gonna go with ’em? you gonna run against ’em, see what’s going on? who knows. it’s a snap judgment. it’s a, you gotta just trust your instincts, sure, but if you run away, knowing what you know, you’d be doing all these people a huge disservice. so you gotta go back, you gotta go against ’em, run in there and help. maybe you die. maybe. thing is, your consciousness is the only one you know. we, in this country, we idolize individuality, you know. we worship ourselves. ain’t nothing wrong with that, as far as i’m concerned. you worship whatever you want so long as it doesn’t interfere with my life. except … when it’s just you you’re worrying about, the plight, uh … empathy, that’s it, empathy goes out the window. so all these people running down the street and you gotta remember that they got lives, they got families, they got people who care about them. and people care about you too, but you’re just one person. so if you die then these other people live. you gotta put yourself in their shoes, you gotta think like them, think about what they’d think about. and you … look in their eyes when they’re running, you look at that terror in their eyes when they’re running, and that’s when you know. you gotta go in. you just gotta go in.

judy, you’re dressed inappropriately. take that skirt off, i can see the bottom of your ass for chrissakes. and that god awful nose ring, why do you still wear that thing? do all women these days want to look like bulls? why would you do these horrific things to your body? this is something you’d want your mother to see? dressed like a whore and a cow at the same time, i’ll be damned. oh and before your “rebuttal” about how overtly sexist i’m being, please remind yourself that not only am i woman, but that i’ve been one for thirty more years than you have, so whatever thoughts you have regarding “progressive” ideology have already been thought, over and over again, before you were born, before i was born. hell, the minute mankind realized there was no need to worship god we started taking our clothes off. but those thoughts, that ideology, is one thing. that’s up here [taps head], in your easily led brain. down here [motions to crotch] is a different story. you can’t stop a man from wanting that. it’s biological. there’s a switch in his brain that makes him pursue that, because he’s got all this jizz up in his balls and if he doesn’t use it, it’ll go to waste and then it’s like he’s going to waste. do you see what i mean? some women may have told you that you can use your sex to lead men on and get them to do things for you. well, you can, but you don’t need to dress like a whore to do it. you give a man an opportunity to fuck and he’ll take it, no matter what the cost, because his dumb animal brain just needs to pump that semen into a woman’s body. i know you think there’s a higher brain function there but even if there is, that animal brain trumps it every time. i’m all for feminism and women’s rights, i just also know from experience that man’s goal in life is to fuck, and if he sees you in that skirt with your ass hanging out like that, he will pursue you and try to fuck you. you try to prove me wrong, judy. you go right ahead.

honey, the jam machine broke and now there’s jam all over the basement floor. like, up to my ankle. it’s a sticky delicious mess. i think the cat’s in there somewhere. i’m sorry. i thought it would work, i honestly did. well, it did work, technically. technically this is all jam. but the pressure, the pressure was too much. your vinyl collection is ruined. the couch is ruined. your cat is probably dead. i mean it was an explosion, i think. everything down here is ruined. it’s all over the walls, the ceiling. it smells so amazing. i’m sorry, i’m sorry. but it smells like strawberries! sweet sticky strawberries. i kind of want to lay in it. i’m going to lay in it. honey, i’m going to lay in it and then i’m going to clean it up, okay? i think i owe this to myself. you’re more than welcome to lay in it with me. you’re always complaining about stuff being “boring,” well what’s more exciting than laying in a pool of strawberry jam? [he lays in it] oh this is tremendous. this is exquisite. this is heavenly. you should come in here. it’s still warm from the machine, i know that sounds weird. [meow] oh the cat’s alive, thank god.

describe him? well, alright, constable, i’m afraid i didn’t get a good look at him and i’m not the greatest at remembering details but … i’d say he was seven feet tall, maybe 400 pounds, give or take. he had three hands–he had two regular hands and then a third hand that laid on the top of his head. i think it was growing out of the back of his head? and it flopped on the top of his head like it was his hair or something. i only saw it briefly when he tipped his top hat at us. his face was, um, his cheeks were bulging because he was chewing on bulgur wheat that kept falling out of his mouth, i mean he really filled it up all the way. his eyes were sunken and very dark, very morbid looking, and one of the eyes was just a hole where an eye would go, except instead there was this little man, or this beast thing, it looked like a hairless bear man, and occasionally it would prop open his eyelid with a piece of wood, like i think half of a matchstick or something like that, and it would just gaze out at the world. i would say it is mostly bear. his nose was dripping bright yellow liquid at a regular rate, and he would dab it with a kerchief that got more and more yellow as things went on. the yellow was glowing and when we moved into the dim study i could tell it was glowing in the dark. eventually he threw the kerchief into the rubbish bin and procured another from inside his jacket pocket. he blew his nose and it sounded like the low rumble of thunder. he then, and this was strange, he *ate* the kerchief after he blew his nose. needless to say we were all disgusted, but then he began to speak with this cadence to his voice that put us at ease instantly. i nearly fell asleep, in fact. he lulled us into this false sense of security before killing iain and taking the jewels. it’s surprising he could even hold them, as his arms and hands were actually slippery eels. did i mention that part? slippery eel hands. oh constable, you need to apprehend him right away, before it’s too late! but don’t get too close, as he emits a pungent odor from his skin that, if inhaled too closely, will cause you to die. it’s how he got iain! i swear this is all true, constable! i swear it!

let’s think about this rationally for a second, alright? let’s just take a deep breath and think about this. you’ve got some kind of vendetta against me, against my family, sure, okay, that’s understandable, i know my father fucked you over big time. but revenge like this? really? is this really how you want things to go down? because, this isn’t some kind of game here, pete. this is the real world, and your actions will have consequences. you kill me and you’re starting a war. you kill anyone in my family and you’re starting a war. you touch a hair on my daughter’s head and i will personally rip out your tongue and shove it up your own ass. that’s what we’re talking about here, pete. this is the scale of things. you want vengeance, you better find it somewhere else, some*how* else, because murder’s just going to beget murder, and instant gratification begets the eradication of your entire family. trust me on this one, pete. put that gun down. take a deep breath. turn around. find out what makes my father tick. find out what that hot button is. and press it. press it as hard as you can. i think you know what it is already. that’s how you get revenge in the modern day, pete. not physical death, but financial death.

[on a porch. leans forward in his chair.]

damn, jennifer’s got all the right curves in all the right places. she is a hot-tee with a capital h. holy moly. son of a bitch. look at her! my goodness. she is a work of art, a god damned work of art. i don’t think i’ve ever seen a more beautiful woman in my entire life, and mind you, i’ve been to los angeles. no way. no way no sir. god, see, when he made jennifer he was firing on all cylinders, you know what i mean? had his mind in the right place. does god have a mind? ah who cares. look at jennifer! she’s wearing that little frilly skirt thing, oh man. look at those legs! built for speed, or, or, for, or for, lifting or something. she lifts weights, she does cardio, i can tell. she probly does that stairmaster thing like, like all day long. man oh man, she is gorgeous! i should tell her. yeah i should go right up to her and tell her how attractive she looks today. that’s not weird, right? that wouldn’t look weird, would it? people, men, men tell women they’re attractive all the time, i see it on TV constantly. guys always telling ladies they look good. and jennifer she totally, she definitely deserves to know. i mean she probly already knows, right, but if someone tells her then that’s gotta feel good. yeah. yeah. i’m gonna do it. i’m gonna finish this beer and then i’m gonna do it. the beer it’s getting warm so i wanna finish it because warm beer is gross but you know, i don’t want to waste a beer. so i’m gonna drink this beer and then i’m gonna go tell jennifer that she is a beautiful woman. yeah. definitely.

[slowly leans back in chair. nods a couple of times. takes a swig of beer.]

triangulate the signal using a passkey motor sensor algorithm. you’ve got four days to manipulate the data, tribard. we have to know where that signal is coming from! johnson, get the floorboard particle emulator up to date! we’ve got incoming violet disturbances in the outer infrared field, we’ve got to charge the pulsar trackers! CHARGE THE PULSAR TRACKERS! we’ve got three minutes to touchdown, repeat, three minutes to touchdown, brady, fire the anti-matter plasma cylinders. singh, get the ground crew up to speed on the situation and find a way to overclock the temporal subsistence chambers. T-MINUS TWO MINUTES UNTIL TOUCHDOWN PEOPLE. we’ve got sixteen live ones heading on a 48 degree decline, rotoscope the gyroscope launcher until it’s at 26 hertz, but do NOT push it to 30, you hear me? thirty hertz and we’re DEAD. ramirez, get all hands on deck and throw the forward throttle into overdrive, maybe 118%, then check the diesel manipulaters for any signs of damage. roscoe, get me a sandwich, turkey on rye, light on mayo with maybe some dijon if we have it but DO NOT WORRY IF WE DON’T. i need a thousand calibrated lawn darts ready for launch, repeat, one thousand ca-li-bray-ted lawn darts people! and actual lawn darts not that new shit where they’re all rounded at the end so johnson maybe time travel back to 1973 for the real deal. ONE MINUTE PEOPLE WE GOT ONE MINUTE UNTIL TOUCHDOWN. someone get velvet underground on the intercom, the one with nico, none of that white light/white heat bullshit. IT’S FUCKING BULLSHIT TREVOR we are not having this argument right now you understand? oh shit THIRTY SECONDS, THIRTY SECONDS UNTIL TOUCHDOWN someone call a priest we need last rites read for every god damned person here as quickly as possible. we need a fast talking priest and thirty polaris chunkers calibrated to the nth degree, WHAT’S THE STATUS OF THE PULSAR TRACKERS?! fifteen seconds people, here it is, this is the end, this is everything, this is the big one, if any of you beautiful ladies want to fuck right now let’s get to it, my shirt’s buttons are snaps so i can just tear this off FIVE SECONDS PEOPLE, FOUR, THREE, TWO, ONE–