Steps: 2,421,446
Miles: 1015.16
Dear Diary: The doctor at the hospital came to me and discussed what I had done in Arts and Crafts. He said I should write more and explore my "inner child." I'm not sure what he meant, but I tried my best. I spoke to the orderly about how to begin and he told me, "Well, a lot of stories start out 'Once upon a time', or 'It was a dark and stormy night'."
I thanked the good man and returned to my little plain and austere room, and started to write.
It was a dark and stormy night; the rain fell in torrents, drenching those few brave and hardy souls that ventured out into the streets in search of what, only they knew. Perhaps it was food, drink, companionship, warmth, or perhaps it was dark, secretive things of unnatural biological nature, such as gene-slicers and cloning media.
But deep, deep down in the bowels of his Castle, in the darkness penetrated only by the occasional flicker of the torchlight, sat a old, wrinkled man. His face hideously scarred and contorted, violated by the ravishes of time... and by an attack by an rabidly insane orange conehead when he was a very young boy. The old man, had spent many, many years of his life, and nearly all of his now rapidly dwindling fortunes, seeking revenge... revenge against those evil orange coneheads that had damaged his face and destroyed his life.
On the battered oaken plank that served as his workspace and laboratory, lay a few dusty, dirty beakers scattered amongst the Bunsen burners and cobwebs. In the center of the disorder, however stood the latest offering from Dell featuring Windows Vista and more giga-whatzits that he could possibly use; a blinking broadband connection device, and a seemingly innocent cluttered heap of paper clips.
Seemingly innocent cluttered heap of paper clips
Ahhh.. he mumbled and muttered to himself, things are nearly ready... yes, so nearly ready, my preciousssssessss, after all these long, long, lonely horrible years..........
[Intermission]
There is plenty of free popcorn in the lobby. The supply was leftover from the AFI top 100 Conehead Counting grant.
2 comments:
*grabs some popcorn and a Pepsi during intermission*
Munches on some stale popcorn. I could have sworn I ate all of the grant popcorn already. Ponders the fear instilled by gene slicers and cloning media as I chew on my fingernails. Decides this book is definitely not rated "inner child".
Post a Comment