Monday, June 23, 2008

RETURN OF THE AGENTS OF DISTRESS

RETURN OF THE AGENTS OF DISTRESS
It was a damp day in Vancouver, not to mention the fact that people kept asking me if I was from East Hastings! Nah!
“Who am I?”
Hmmm...
Don’t ask me stuff I don’t know, ok? I mean, how the hell am I suppose to know who you are?
Readers? Don’t know, at this rate, you’re all starting to sound insane!
You see, I came here looking for Jane. I’ve been mesmerised by that sexy, but otherwise absolutely crazy girl, ever since she jumped into my room, through the window, that morning, nearly a decade ago! Although, I still don’t understand why she took off so suddenly, accompanied by my wallet, I must admit that she has the best looking ears in this whole wide world! Such a pity, they don’t really work, due to an abundance of the best looking earwax in this whole wide world, I guess...
That girl just doesn’t listen, you see!
Back to the story, as I was saying, it was getting dark, and I had little time to waste, and lots to do in my mind.
Suddenly, through the unreasonably sexy evening breeze, out pops...
Amsterdam cafe?!!
Where the hell did that come from? Dang! What do I do now?
I’m in a hurry, but I guess things which need to get done right away can wait a while, hehe!
Far...
Far away, but, not that far away, a shadow, she watches...
In secret, and her lonely heart blushes...
Somewhere, in some washroom, somebody flushes...
The Agents of distress lick their claws, skilfully concealed in some bushes...
Adrenaline rushes, as a homeless man shakes his homeless fist, and crushes...
Down on Davie Street, a young man tries on beautiful dresses, with soft, soft laces...
While somewhere, the ill-willed imposter, an absolute loser, death, faces...
Off to hell, you! There! Fixed you, I did, hellhounds, you, traces...
Bring nothing but hell to anybody that supports you! Your soul, in hell, paces!
Well, once inside the Amsterdam Cafe, I was busy chatting up with my buddies who work there and stuff, when I realized that a sexy-hot-long legs-sexy girl, who was sitting in the corner, was eyeballing me non-stop.
I excused myself, and rushed at her!
She grabbed my nuts and threatened to tear it off, if I didn’t calm down.
I didn’t know what to do!
Should I do as she says, or keep focusing on my erection?
Ah, decision making is such a strain!
Well, she, on the other hand, seemed like a girl who couldn’t keep her mouth shut, and kept talking!
“The shop next door, the one with pipes, and papers, and all that kindda stuff...”
“I know that store! Why, it’s right next door, and they sell pipes, and papers, and all that kindda stuff!” I replied, and pretty honestly, mind you!
She, for some sick reason, squeezed my balls even harder, I immediately had an orgasm! She gave me a disgusted look, and let go.
The torture that took a detour, and landed a handjob? Hehe!
“You’re sick!” she said.
“Why? Are you a doctor?” I replied, genuinely surprised!
“No, listen, are you really crazy?” she asked, sounding irritated.
I just kept stareing at her boobs.
Angrily, she looked at me looking at her boobs, blissfully.
This continued for quite a while, in blissful silence. The joint that I had earlier, with my buddies, was settling in.
By that I meant, that I started seeing her boobs in different, shades, hues, and tones!
The last thing I saw was her fist, unreasonably close to my face, and then lots of stars, and then I felt something sexy (probably her) dragging me out into the streets.
“Listen, you retard!” she said.
“The cardboard sign thing they put out in front of the store, on the sidewalk, as an ad, with the weird psychedelic painting on it, you know that?” she added, grabbing me by the collar and shaking me up a bit.
I got naughty and hugged her.
She probably thought that I was still dizzy from that punch, because she didn’t immediately start killing me, instead, she kept talking.
“That’s a magic painting! It’s actually a message, study the hidden symbols!”
Here, let me remind you that, I pretended to be even dizzier, and slowly slid down her, while she spoke.
Mission success! My face was directly upon her breast now.
“Massage? Uh... message?” I spoke into her breast, to keep her talking.
I slid my hand under her shirt... hand went exploring, you know.
“What’re you doing?” she asked, suddenly sounding rather like a bull.
“So dizzy... about to fall down... hanging onto your boobs...” I replied.
She didn’t seem very convinced, and immediately started strangling me... I kept thinking, “Maybe I should finger her...”
Then I blacked out...
Oh, such pretty little stars... little stars?
Where?
Nebula?!!
Is that a freakin’ ghost ship?
Ed finds himself floating slowly towards the Ghost ship... suddenly, in space, a breeze!
Eyes freeze on a yellow envelope. “To Ed” it was labelled!
Fingers that once tightened around smooth, soft breasts now run over the envelope.
Inside, a short letter:
Hi Ed,
Time’s short, so I’ll get straight to the point. Let me pitch an idea to you.
You can pitch it to all the commercial airplane companies.
You see, I’ve found that most people around the world can’t afford to travel around a lot. The airplane companies can’t just lower the price of the ticket, because another main problem that prevents most people from flying is the VISA application. The application process, the waiting, and all the unnecessary hassles are a major turn off, especially in the poor countries.
So, airplane companies, you want more business, right?
Well, there is a way.
First of all, all the countries should have an “international area”.
Now, before we go further, let me explain “international area” a little further.
INTERNATIONAL AREA: what the hell is it?
Every country should pick out a small neutral area as a tourist spot. Somewhere beautiful, and, if the country feels unsecure, can have its boarders heavily guarded. See, this area will be like that pressure sealed room in submarines and stuff, which, a person uses to get in and out of the submarine.
Some countries are strict about who they let in. What I purpose is that, VISA to this area, in every country, no matter how strict, should be given very easily and without hassle of any sort, like buying a bus ticket, because, like I said earlier, they won’t be entering the rest of the country, they’d be contained within this beautiful area, so no need to worry.
The whole point of establishing such an area is:
- To dramatically increase tourism, and thus generate wicked profit for the country.
- To educate the youngsters about other cultures, so that they would be more open minded and aware of other cultures, places, and more tolerant to people unlike them. Because, it’s the fear of the unknown that creates all these stereotypes, you know, “people are strange when you’re a stranger”.
- It would dramatically reduce the cost of an airplane ticket, because, so many people would be flying. Once such an area, in every country, is created, the airplane companies would make ten times more, even if they cut down the price of the ticket by 5 times! Imagine, millions of people taking a world tour every day!
Also, this would remove all the phobias and misconceptions we have about other cultures, places, and people. There would be something new to learn every day, something new to see. Imagine, people from all around the world, including South Korea, hanging out in such a peaceful international area in north Korea, where they’d (the tourists) be contained, but still be able to experience north Korea! Imagine such a place of contained diversity in every country, even countries like Burma, Iran, and Afghanistan!
If such an area is indeed established, it would put the biggest, busiest, and most diverse cities of this world, to shame! Also it can be an ideal place to film/TV shows about saving this world, right?
I think I once told you about all this different branches of science, as different senses, with which we interpret this universe. This include all the different thinking patters, languages, cultures etc too. Last time, I said that this world is an infant, well, let me be a little more cruel.
This world is starting to look like a 30 year old mentally retarded virgin!
Old enough to live, but still unable to function, as all the senses aren’t co-ordinated! Unable to do anything!
That’s why I was talking about bringing all these different scientist from different fields of science, who speak different languages, together, in a room, to discuss about progress and the universe in general.
This is because to properly see how this universe works, you’ve to have all these senses (mastery of all these different fields of science) and in order for a single human to accomplish that, he’d have to have a lifespan of at least a thousand years, and an excellent memory. We know we don’t live that long, so whatever we lack in time we are making up for it in numbers, some will learn this and some will learn that, we don’t miss anything, but the problem is that all the people, after collecting all these different info/senses, aren’t sharing/uniting/collaborating, see!
Think how confused this world must have been. It can see, hear, feel, smell and taste everything, but it’s using just one sense at a time! When it can see, it only sees, can’t hear, touch, smell, or feel! Just as people studying physics only focus on physics, shutting off all other branches, in order to reach the top of that particular science. Which is a must, otherwise, if the person tries to master all, he wouldn’t know anything properly, but would have a basic idea of all, like a jack of all trades, because he doesn’t have enough time in his short life to master all. But this problem can be easily solved by putting others experts in their own different branch of science together, and making them think as one. Yes, see the problem now? Everything is already there, we just need to unite!
We don’t have time, but God has given us numbers, to use this power all you’ve to do is unite! How simple is that?
Maybe it is God’s little trick, all we have to do, people, is to stop fighting. It’s a test, to graduate, pass this test, prove you’re fit to survive, and I’ll give you the next level!
I will turn you all into gods, all you’ve to do is unite, simple! If you can’t, well, you’re not worthy of moving onto the next level, YOU FAIL!
It’s like you’ve potatoes, chicken, garlic, spices, salt etc all the ingredients required to cook, but you’re just not putting them together into the pot.
Darn it, I’m hungry, cook already!
Regards
-Eddieson O
“Hello Ed”
Ed turned around towards the voice. At the other end of the ship, where a couple were standing. One was a thin young man, and the other, a sexy girl.
“Do I know you?” asked Ed. “how did I get here?”
The thin shabby guy, yawned a bit, scratched his chin, and takes a sit.
“Ah, never mind that, Tim and Red Jack, just passed through here a while ago... I’m taking you all somewhere.”
The lady in the shadows stepped forward, her dress a dark ink blue, her lips the brightest red, and her eyes a furnace!
“Jane?” Ed exclaimed, in a squeaky voice, looking absolutely rattled!
“No, although Jane is a part of me, just as you’re a part of him” she replied, pointing to the thin shabby guy. “He’s Eddieson”
“Nice to meet you, Ed, I am Eddieson, and this blue lady here, she’s my lover, her name is Jackie. Hope you’ve a nice journey, we’d like to stay a little longer, but we’ve to go have real loud sex, she bites, you know...”
With that the couple started kissing and rolling around moaning and whatnot. Ed wisely decides to leave.
He woke up, back in Vancouver, beside an alley. It was kindda dark. A couple of drunken girls were laughing at him, but he didn’t care. He had wasted too much time, and had lots to do in his mind.
“Darn! Where’s that girl who tried to strangle me” he thought, rather fondly.
He picked himself up, and slithered on. The past few months, his life has been hell. Somebody really wanted him out of Vancouver, although he couldn’t think of a reason why.
The thing that bothered him most was the fact that the agents of distress were now zooming in on him. Things were about to get hectic, dire need for a great tactic.
He must go online. A few months ago somebody told him that Red Jack use to post on DV. He needs to get in touch with Red Jack, so he handle-jacked Red Jack and posted his situation. This was one last attempt to get in touch with red Jack, one last hope to get out the mess, alive!
“Where is Lady Jane?”
“Shady, moody, dark blue pain!”
“Where is my Lady Jane?”
“Give me Jane, or I’ll end my life in pain!”
“In her arms, I’ll die as it rains”
PART TWO: TALKING DEAD - ONCE IN A LUNCHTIME – PAST
As the ambulance rolls away from the club, Tim inside, as Ed and the bystander look on.
A dark creature suddenly lands on top of the vehicle. Immediately, the vehicle is reduces to shreds and they had to call another ambulance to take the injured ambulance to the hospital.
Meantime, the dark figure jumps back into the sky, dragging Tim along.
As they disappear into the clouds, the clouds changed colour and turned Violet... suddenly rain and hail poured down, the funny thing was that the “hail” were actually human skulls.
People began to run right and left, some even climbed stairs, and some descended down the stairs! Some pissed their pants, some pissed their shirts, don’t ask how, just say wow!
PART THREE: Enter the mad director:
Meantime, the mad director was walking down the main and hasting street, past the Brickhouse. He was broke and very heartbroken, when, all of a sudden he saw a girl skateboarding on the other side of the road. She was wearing a green brown plain army jacket and looked super cool.
Lady Jane?
His heart skipped a beat, and he turned back wanting to yell her name and tell her that he loves her, and just when he turned back and looked at her, she did the same! They stood in silence for about a minute, when a loud bus spoiled the moment, and by the time the bus went past, Lady Jane was gone too!
She got off her skateboard, and looked at the mad director! He would’ve at least walked up to her and ask for a cigarette, when he suddenly realised that his clothes were shabby, and his armpit could even put a skunk in coma! He also was scared of her, and didn’t wanna get raped, so he just looked at her for about a minute, and she did the same.
“She’s so cool, I’d love to get raped by her! And when I’m done, she’d still wrestle me or beat me up and do me again and again!”
The mad director immediately had an orgasm after that thought, but he walked on as horny as can be.
A big regret is born.
FORCLOSURE OF A REALM:
A starry night…
Revolution in our minds…
Secret shadows closing in…
Friendly greetings echo… echoes of times when hearts overflowed…
Ghostly full moon night… shining bright… faded neon light
…And we are in a little town called Knots Ville!
INTRO:
You would find people living here pretty strange. This may be due to the fact that most of the people living here are mainly artists or scientists.
Near the edge of the town was a forest, and over it, a mountain. Near the forest was an old school called “The Green Mount High”, and near it, was a little house that somehow seemed much older than the ancient school. This was the home of the Winterkin brothers.
Now I’m so particular about them because this is where our story starts!
Tim Winterkin was a normal 13 year old kid with messed up red hair, a good heart, and a face that could be mistaken, and often was, for that of an extremely retarded beaver’s! He studied in Green Mount High. He had a big brother, Cliff.
Cliff Winterkin was a thin, mysterious, eighteen year old young man with long black hair, cat eyes, and fever brain, whatever that means!
He might be the only person, in this whole damn world, to have always managed to screw up every single thing he ever did, or probably will ever do.
No small feat, mind you!
Cliff was a singer. He sang and played guitar in a local band called, “The dead Hallucinations Inc.” which was very popular in their town, but nowhere else. He was able to send his brother to Green Mount High from the little income he usually got after gigs, plus, the old principle was a friend of their grandpa, so when Cliff was broke he usually took over.
Cliff himself use to study at The Green Mount High, but he had some fantastic trouble with the teachers, the rules, and the routine, thus earning him the worse student ever trophy! The teachers knew he was causing too much mischief, but were never able to prove it, or catch him red handed, so they begged him to quit his habit or quit the school, and he quit the school.
They had nothing special in their hut except for a very old enormous mirror, with two wooden statues (one evil looking, and the other, ugly looking) on either sides holding the mirror, below, written in bold letters, were the words, “GATEWAY MIRROR”.
The mirror was kept in the attic as a tribute to their grandfather, who liked the mirror so much that he slept with it, up in the attic, during his last days.
Freaky, eh?
I know, I know… ha-ha!
His last wish was, for the brothers to neither part with the mirror, nor move it from its present location, no matter what happens.

Ah, now that the introductions are all done, let’s get to the fun part and start the story, shall we?

Good, read on, dear readers!

CHAPTER NEW: Time unknown
BUSTED ILLEGAL CHICKEN DEALER/LETTERS FROM MISTER DOG
It was a fine morning. Tim could feel the sunbeams crawl in through the windows, but he didn’t open his eyes. The summer holidays were about to end, and that meant that, in a few days time, he had to get up early to go to school every day.
He decided to sleep some more while he could, being the lazy little bastard that he was. He counted the days in his mind, and realized that he had only a week left before the school reopens, but we can’t rely on his calculations since he was hopeless in mathematics, so who knows, and we don’t want our calculations screwed up, right?
Well, anyways, he was trying to get school out of his mind, when somebody suddenly shook him awake.
It was his friend, Johnny.
Johnny Hammett was a tiny miserable looking boy. Some of the world’s most miserable men had quit the idea of committing suicide, after eyeballing good old Johnny in action, declaring, that they had just witnessed the undisputed master, and confessing that, if he (Johnny) can live with it, why couldn’t they!
Mind you, Johnny was that miserable!
He had sad blue eyes, which always seemed to stare faraway, and reddish black hair. He was a self-assured and self-confessed coward.
In fact, the whole idea of getting scared use to scare him every few seconds, because, the only thing he feared, was fear itself, you see!
He lived with his grandfather “Mr. Woody” across the street. Mr. Woody was an old mad scientist. Neither Johnny, nor anybody he knew, except for Mr. Woody and Tim’s grandfather (Mr. Woody’s best friend), had seen his parents. In fact, he was raised entirely by his grandfather, a feat, which was some sort of a miracle in itself, I’d say!
Nobody knows where his parents went, or what happened to them.
Some old folks say that they are dead, while others say that Johnny scared them away with his teeth, which was a real mean thing to say, I’d say!
A few days ago Mr. Woody was trying to paint his teeth white, because they were turning yellow, or some other color that resembled yellow!
Very entertaining old bloke, this Mr. Woody, an absolutely fun character, I’d say, if you ignore the fact that he’s one absolute fruitcake!
“What’s up?” Tim asked yawning lazily.
Johnny thought for a while, and after what seemed like an hour,(excuse me, but my watch is broken, so somebody either buy me a new watch, or my timing is going to be way off for the rest of the story) he finally asked, “Grandpa wants to see your old family album, so can I take it?”
“Ok… but why does he suddenly want it?” Tim asked.
“Oh… whenever I ask about my parents, he… well, he keeps pretending, you know, like he’s just remembered something important, or acts as if he has totally gone insane, so today I kept asking him about it, and after asking him about 10,000 times, he finally told me that I shouldn’t disturb him today, because he was performing this really important experiment or something and he also told me that I could find a picture of them in you old family album so… that’s it” said Johnny at last.
Tim had no idea what to say (actually he wanted to kick Johnny’s butt for waking him up so early in the morning but maybe he was too sleepy to do it for he didn’t) so he simply said, “why don’t you ask Cliff he knows where that thing is…”
Suddenly they heard someone yelling about two rock bands called the melvins, and the cows coming to do a rock concert in their town (in a voice that greatly resembled Donald duck in his weirdest drowning accident or something)
“Is that Cliff?” asked Johnny shivering like a spineless… well… shit or something. Who cares, read on!
“Yeah” replied Tim yawning. “Always yelling in his sleep about something or other… once I caught him sleepwalking upstairs into the attic and then I couldn’t hear a thing I thought he must’ve fallen asleep so I went to sleep.”
They walked in the next room and woke up Cliff.
“Hmm… what day is it today?” asked Cliff and fell asleep again.
“Hey! Wake up Cliff we got something to ask you, and today’s Sunday.”
Cliff yawned angrily, “Ah… black Sabbath” he said “What is it that you want to ask me?”
“Well do you know anything about Johnny’s parents and where did you keep our old family album?”
“Wait let me remember… “At that point Cliff fell asleep again, and Tim was forced to use a glass of water. He was just about to pour it on the “sleeping beauty” when the “sleeping beauty” suddenly sat up, took the water from Tim’s hand, drank it up and fell asleep again.
After much struggling which would’ve made even god tired, Cliff woke up. (But maybe it was because he was hungry, it was already 1.00 pm, you see…)
“Well grandpa told me that Mr. Woody was a bachelor.” Said Cliff finally.
“That means he’s not my real grandpa?” whispered Johnny looking as if he was about to faint. (But don’t panic for it was almost normal for him)
“Might be… strange isn’t it? Come on, don’t just stand there… cry stupid cry” Cliff said lovingly.
Cliff didn’t like to talk about parents and stuff because he himself is an orphan who had never seen the face of his parents… but somehow he does a very good impression of not caring shit or something.
“Come on Cliff it’s no time to joke… look at Johnny” Johnny was leaning against the wall looking every inch like a sick banana cornered by a box of chattering chimps. (And by the look on his face it’s obvious that the box is an unlocked one)
“Well at least that’s what grandpa thought until some years ago Mr. Woody invited him to his son’s marriage or something…”
“Then your grandpa saw my parents?” Johnny managed to say through a mouthful of mixed emotions. (Or maybe it was a re-mixed version of a mixed emotion… who knows…)
“Hold it right there don’t move a muscle Johnny!” screamed Cliff snapping his fingers. (Looking every inch like a painfully brainy pig, who had just hit upon a noble idea to sandwich his owner between two smelly piles of hay and then eat him up or something)
“What’s the matter, Cliff?”
Cliff suddenly pulled a camera out of his cupboard and began taking pictures of Johnny in his sick banana pose.
“This is going to be on the cover of the new album by The Dead Hallucinations Inc… it’s called ‘Busted Illegal Chicken Dealer’ cool”
“Whatever! Where’s the old family album anyway?” Tim asked quickly incase Cliff started talking again.
‘Last time I saw it was in the attic… but then again I think I’ve given it to someone… I just can’t remember who… oh! Right! it was a funny looking man that stepped out of the mirror… he said he was grandpa’s friend or something… Look I’m really confused I don’t know if it was a dream or if it was real… blah… blah… blah…”
“Come on let’s search the attic” Tim told Johnny and they hurried upstairs and searched everywhere but couldn’t find it anywhere.
“Cliff… Are you sure it was in the attic? I mean we can’t find it, maybe you’ve misplaced it… did you?”
“Like I told you before I think I’ve given it to the man from the mirror or something…” replied Cliff scratching his head. (Was it with a hope to charge up his brains?)
“Wow… somebody seriously needs some reality check here!” chorused Tim and Johnny, looking at each other.
“Well Tim… Do you remember grandpa’s funeral?” asked Cliff with an evil twinkle or two in his eyes… ha!
“No, maybe I was too young… why are you asking that?” replied Tim.
“Well that’s because there was no funeral, Tim… grandpa never died… he just sort of disappeared!”
“What?”
“Yeah grandpa was real sick that day when this funny looking man came to visit him… said he was grandpa’s friend, so I showed him the way upstairs into the attic… for some time I could hear them talking in low murmuring voices and then there was silence a rather long one. I thought it was strange, so I went upstairs to check and there was nobody there… no grandpa, and no funny looking guy, they were gone just like that! Haven’t heard from him after that.”
(Knock… Knock…)
There was a knock on the door.
“Who’s there?” screamed Cliff. “I’m armed with a guitar”
“Open up it’s the F.B.I… I am officer Melvin, and this silly giant behind me is Andrew, of course, you can’t see us, your door not being transparent or something, but we’re terribly sorry to inform you that you’re under arrest for overage stupidity.”
“Come in guys”
Melvin was an extremely scary though stupid dude, who compared to the whimsical yet stupid Andrew looked real small. Andrew was about six feet tall, and wanted to be a really scary character like Melvin but his stupidity really gives it away. Andrew really wants people to be scared of him, but the truth is no one really respects him.
Here’s his favorite line "Blah… blah… blah....I will eat your soul as if it was made up of flowers...fear me little kid....blah… blah… blah...there is no hope available, but plenty to fear...I have stolen all your doughnuts...blah… blah… blah... I’m a scary monster...” Ooh real scary! Get the point? It’s no wonder that the kid that he tries to scare or bully often mistakes him for a clown or something. But, then again, they had a heart of gold deep, deep, deep down inside.
“Hello Melvin… Hello Andrew!”
“Yeah… yeah… just shut up!” barked Melvin in appreciation.
“Cliff is the lyrics ready?” asked Andrew.
“Yeah… come on in.” replied Cliff with a shit-eating grin that threatened to split his face into two smaller but equally annoying parts.
Everybody walked into Cliff’s room. (The walls were covered with damp dark red wallpapers and a few framed pictures of dead bodies and disfigured faces were neatly hung on them.)
Cliff pulled out a few sheets of paper from the cupboard, and handed it to Andrew who read it out aloud…
LETTERS FROM MISTER DOG
“Once there was a dog
Or maybe it was a cat
Jim say’s it was a frog
But it really was a bat

It was really confusing
Like that backyard of a face that I trace back to you
The only way out is diffusing
Wait don’t sing with me or your dentist’s bills will be due

Anyway, do you like this song?
Please like it even if you don’t
Or I’ll kick you all along
Sue me and I’ll say I didn’t”
Contd...
Note: NEXT CHAPPTER WILL BE WICKED!

Sunday, June 15, 2008

EDDIESON OKRAM IS BACK AGAIN!

LESSON CHAPTER: FIRST STEP INTO THE STORY

INTRO: Ah, it’s me the mad director again!
Feels good to be back inside the story doesn’t it? Well, never mind, as of now, let’s forget what’s currently happening, and go visit Red Jack in his future, say, ten years into the future from where we left him last..
FIRST PART: A LIGHT MUDDY DARK BLUE STORM
Out of the storm that hugged the landscape, blurring moonlight, in a ghostly mess, yes, out steps, Red Jack!
“Why this unholy head ache?” he uttered, and scratched his head, wished he wasn’t so utterly mad... bad... sad... red jack?
“I am Red Jack?”
“.!.”
“Is my image trapped by the bad vibes attached to this name? Am I going to let a name destroy my true self? Why allow the name to change me?
If, I could only... if I could only change the vibe of this name! Completely recycle it’s bad baggage...
Ah, I daresay, I should!”
And he stood there, storm leaking inside his head.
The colour “blue”, his bed, somewhere I read.
Finally he scratches his chin, and exclaims, “Headcheese!”
SECOND PART: déjà vu?
I was resting under a ladder, for some reason, when out of nowhere, a most annoying voice yelled, “TIM” into my right ear, immediately rattling all the earwax inside! More annoying was the fact that it was immediately followed by more yelling into the left ear along the lines of, “HOW ARE YOU? BLAH, BLAH, BLAH...!”
I turned quickly, with skills, only reserved by god, for extremely talented ninjas... but I slipped, and I fell, cheek-slamming the ground!
But that was due to the dry ground being so slippery, my skills are legendary, mind you, not my fault!
I blacked out!
Nah, before I blacked out I thought about all the people who’d be laughing at me... butterlegs?
Oh god!
Yeah, and now I blacked out...

COMMERCIAL: TIM DREAMS AGAIN, INSIDE A DREAM!
Again, the blue seas rise...
They come in “red” size...
And Tim lands, upon a surprise!
Floating high, near a space ship, with sails that snitches ghosts together, as meanings and stories behind it gather, driving the ship on...
Into the unknown...
Tim floats towards the ship, a ship so huge... HUGE!
He climbs on board, and before he could take another step, by his foot, a note.
It wrestled him into a trance, tied his attention into a knot.
He picked it up in slow motion, and eyeballed it with dripping notion.
Thoughts, immediately, started sliding, as if on lotion!
Here’s what was written:
AN OPEN LETTER TO YOU.
Hello Tim,
Consider yourself as this world that we live in. Consider all humanity as one, YOU! Now, let’s say, you have certain infected organs.
A liver disease?
How do you cure yourself?
By completely destroying the liver? No liver, no problem?
No, right? The infected liver is a part of you.
You fight the wrong enemy... hurt yourself... you do these:
1. First of all, you need to accept that the liver is infected by your abuse (how you behave towards it, drinks?), don’t abuse it anymore.
2. Liver is not the problem, germs infecting it are. Negative or bad thinking patters are the germs here, as the liver now represents a group of people/slice of earth.
3. Take medication and cure it, here, the cure is ideas, beautiful and unsurpassed in scale. Something that would truly rattle the pattern of thought process that enslaves the soul and torments it. But you’ve to take the medication, and that’s action!
Ask, how can a thing such as an idea, something that barely exists, has no physical form whatsoever, carry so much weight?
Well, simple, let’s just say that a fight starts, it can either go on until one or both sides are down, or someone could just stand up and solve it peacefully, make them all kiss and make up, you see.
When a whole village were stoning a prostitute to death, it would have taken so much riot police to stop them, and even then, there would have been too much causality. Jesus simply walked in, and stopped them with just a thought packed in a sentence, see!
In fact, consider yourself as the world again, and the current situation, a pile of mud in your hands. You take an idea out of your head, give the confused masses a shape and a direction. you create a pot/vessel out of that clay.
You give it such a shape that it can contain water, there! Now ain’t it convenient?
You’ve just witnessed the life story of an idea. How it was born inside your head, grew up through your actions, and ended with a lifetime achievement award, leaving it’s mark on this world, you.
The world looking at the vessel and remembering the idea lovingly and with awe... proudly saying, “Ah, see this, I did it!”
Wait now, don’t you worry too much, let’s take a break and reflect on your past, You, Dear World! I am talking to you!
How once upon a time we were savages... oh, how far we have progressed!
Sometimes, if you look at it through glasses made out of a quite night and an early spring morning, you’ll realise that peace is directly related to progress. What is now outrageous, was, once the norm.
All the philosophers, scientists, saints... they paid less attention to the grasslands of everyday thoughts, and spent the thinking energy on the wild forest of gigantic ideas, so within our reach, but unable, too many distractions... Tie yourself to reality with a rope made out of true love, justice, and the truth! Think!
Every last one of them... See the pattern? They moved to the next level, they became super beings! They fought for the truth, didn’t they?
Their ally, ideas.
They wielded, naught but it!
Why kick or push the robot, use the remote!
Our history is our experience, mankind will grow mild, loving, understanding, mature, and humble as it grows, as do human beings, just as, up to some point, your taste in music.
Only thing is, in the case of mankind, we are the hormones. We’ve to turn this boy (mankind) into a man, then and only then, will mankind be fit enough to reproduce, in this case, live on...
But ages ago, there were so many philosophers and saints, you ask? Well, yeah, but media was missing, and therefore, their ideas couldn’t spread fast enough, far enough, simple!
So now that we have media, what do we do, you ask?
Simple! I ask all the TV channels, I ask all the directors and producers of this world, get together... Let’s write history!
We’ll tell this world, “There now, there’s world peace, and here’s the bill: your love!”
Let’s give humanity no other choice but to absolutely adore us.
Let me pitch an idea to the producers/directors of this world, and it’s free:
Why don’t we make a reality show about saving this earth? Yeah, why just save the world, let’s make some profit out of it too, while we’re at it, shall we? About solving all it’s problems? Like survivor, but instead, focus on groups saving the world, and the group that helps the most, wins? Like a reality adventure, where billionaires go around helping the cause they believe in, helping the needy and stuff. All you billionaires, all around the world, listen up, all you media moguls! Let’s make this happen! I can’t drag this world into the story on my own, unless you help, by doing your part. Go, become heroes! You’ve already become billionaires, now, go, on to the next level! Drag all your fantasies out, become the superheroes you’ve always dreamt of becoming!
Don’t be content with all these weak s**t! Let’s uncoil the gods with us all!
Donald Trump, Bill Gates, Oprah, Tiger Woods, and all powerful business man/women, if this world is your workplace, how would you make it more efficient? How would you run it? What about some of your employers fighting amongst themselves, does it makes you company (world) progress? Don’t fire them, please, remember the “liver disease” part? How did you build your empire? You all have successfully built an empire, now build this world!
Let’s turn this generation into a legend, every generation, before and after, will remember!
Why don’t you guys get together and do that with this world?
There, I’m throwing immortality right into your laps! The idea itself is the immortality pill, eat it, and that’s action, which means:
You put the pill in your mouth...
You put the idea into action...
Put it into action, and Walla! Now, you’re immortal!
Trick all the doubts out of our thinking patterns?
C’mon, heaven is that near!
Take care, and have fun!
Regards,
-Eddieson O
A breeze blows inside your skull now...
“HELLO!”
A voice brings Tim’s attention back to his immediate surroundings, atop the super ghostly spaceship.
There, far away on the other end of the spaceship, standing, were two and a half figures!
By that, I mean, two figures, and one, you couldn’t properly see...
“Do I know you guys?” yelled Tim.
“Maybe, maybe not, but we sure do know you, Tim! Nice to meet you, bro! You super retarded funball kid, you! I am Eddieson, I see that you’ve found that note, I wrote.” Said a lazy dumb sounding guy, sounding real excited, hehe!
“Well, why did you write me a note? How do you know my name?” asked Tim.
“You know what, the funny thing is, it’s magick, you see!” Eddieson replies, with a grin reflecting yellow light all over the place, you should’ve seen the bugs it displaced, hehe!
“It reads ‘Hello (YOUR NAME HERE. READERS? YOU?) at the beginning, you just saw your name, cause it’s addressed to the reader, and at that moment, you were reading it.” He added!
“Oh... um... sorry Mister, but I don’t know your name, and funny, I can’t seem to get a good look at you, you know, can’t warp my vision/mind around you.” Said Tim, turning to the man who barely was there.
“Ah, Nobody!” replied a voice of voices from a thousand different dimensions!
“This time the brotherhood will include this whole world, so that there are no enemies, whatsoever, left to stop us from turning this world into a dream machine! Everyone will be on our side! Fun, fun, fun!”
“...I can’t tell you my name due to copyright reasons, but it starts with a ‘W’. Good chap, you turned out to be! You look as bright as a brick!
...um... brick’s can sometimes be real shinny, you know... well...nothing, nothing... carry on, carry on!” said the thin man in a shabby suit, in a thick British accent.
“Red Jack passed this way not so long ago, looks like he’s got a plan!” Eddieson cut in.
“He’s changed a lot now, I heard. Bystander says, he’s now completely transformed from his counter-writing the cosmic writer (who ironically is himself, sort of), the being who was writing his story, heard that the cosmic writer has transformed a lot too!
Red Jack’s turned into this being, a red walking garment with a mask floating atop, where normally, his dumb face use to be! And he’s got wicked powers, oh, and did you see his house? He heals sick/injured butterflies by sticking them on the walls of his healing hall! Dumb guy says he feeds off their pain, recycles it into healing energy or something!” said Tim.
SEMI-OUTRO: We’ll come to all that later on, but right now, let’s continue with the story!
What’s up, Red Jack?
LESSON AGAIN: HOW TO RECYCLE THE MEANING OF A WORD, OR THE AURA OF A NAME!
Damp walls close in again, and Red Jack blinks, the walls run away, as he does so... transforming the room into a gigantic hall.
Stairs ascend and descend, and Red Jack glides, rests himself on the highest top right corner of the hall wall, and meditates.
His love... Jane... another persona of her existing... wants to help her, and her superhero team, of absolutely retarded freaks! But a problem, there is a girl among them, in a coma, about to transform... either into an angel like being of sorts, or literally into “The end of all things good” and only he can see to it that she transforms into this angel like being, and not PURE EVIL!
Lately, he’s been going nuts, worried about his love, and how others were torturing her... he even started posting on DV!
The only way to do that is that she inflicts some damage on him, using his own weapon... steal, and attack?
That would transform them both, her, slowly, him, instantly!
Was he willing to risk it, for his love? Yeah, darn all, chop-chop, he thought!
“Am I the idea that I am gonna use to recycle the aura of the name, ‘Red Jack’?” he thought out aloud... “is such a thing even possible?
Yeah! It was so, so simple... yes, I see a hospital in my sight!”
Stairs descend, and walls play doors...
And out walks Red Jack, for the “lady in a coma”, sure to meet Jane that way, they’ll come to him, thinking that he’s gonna harm her, no he’s saving them all plus meeting his love one last time.”
He thought about it for a while, back in his halls, the “girl in a coma” disposed on the healing couch behind him... then they came!
A robot like thing, Jane, a three-in-one freak, and a young man.
He decides to have some fun...
Taste the strength of his lover’s companions, to make sure, if they’d be able to protect her, in his absence.
One by one they go down, but something about them, a will, for the truth, for justice... a will that couldn’t be contained, or restricted in any way... TRUTH, FIGHT FOR THE TRUTH!
FIND THE TRUTH!
Who is Red Jack?
God?
Jack the Ripper?
Nah, just a good guy, this time around, name just happens to be “Red Jack”, what’s in a name, a label?
He’d be so good that the name “Red Jack” would be forced to have a good aura too! Yeah, give the darn black cloud a silver lining! Yeah, Red Jack/jack the Ripper was a psycho killed, is burning in hell... not the Red Jack in this story, not him, he’s just another good guy, who’s name happens to be “Red Jack”, he never killed a fly, let alone a human! One, who’s been turned into a bad guy by people who didn’t bother to find the TRUTH ABOUT THIS RED JACK!
“Ask Eddieson Okram, he’ll understand my agony!” he thinks...
Ah, let me go out in style he thinks as the “girl in a comma” wakes up briefly and stabs him with his own weapon!
“Dear Jane, I love you beyond control!” he thinks as he starts to vanish...
And with that, he vanishes, and the mask tumbles to the ground... he’s flying through the nebulas and galaxies... he’s... he’s turned back into Naoba, now! And by his side, one of Jane’s many personas, the one which could exist away from Jane, as a separate being as his soulmate, as Jackie(?), follows him, one dimension, into another!
Outro: Somewhere in Toronto, Eddieson Okram who studied performing art at GBC on fall 05, and studied graphic design at the same college during winter 07, felt as if he’d found himself again, in a girl “J.T”, whom he met on “myspace.com” and was listed as from Vancouver in her profile.
“Ok, time to trap this world into world peace, he thought.”
Almost three years passed now... and that’s how long it took for this step inside the story to take, this time, it started in Vancouver, and Toronto... and all the people who’re reading this, welcome to the story, help me drag the rest of the world, in...
OUTRO:
The lesson is a charm designed to deliver justice to evil, corrupted hearts, beware!
Let’s try to fully understand this on every level...
It’s multi-layered, you see...
GET TO THE TRUTH, AT ALL COST!
And then, and only then, God’ll bless you!
SEE YA ALL AT THE NEXT CHAPTER! MUCH, MUCH MORE COMMING UP, Bi- weekly NOW!

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once i am intrested in something, I'll get to the bottom of it, come what may...