THE CHAPTER CALLED PITY

THE CHAPTER CALLED PITY: A REAL FINE LINE (MANKIND ON A TIGHTROPE!)
AUTHORS NOTE: let me begin this chapter with lessons. Lately, I have been wondering if this world deserves lessons or not. Well, a girl, having a mental breakdown, came to me in my dreams, “I am this world” she told me, “Pity me!”
So we meet again, and I’m cleaning up my act a bit, so as even kids can read this story, so no more pornographic writings on this chapter and in the future, plus I’ll be editing all that erotic stuff out in a few weeks, if I am not lazy that is.
Now, when it comes to pornographic writings, did you notice that I put all the intellectual stuff in the middle of the pornographic writing? It’s aimed to test saints and powerful men, if any read my writings.
Try to keep you temptations and negative thoughts in check as you read the naughty stuff in order to reach the important stuff in the middle. If you can’t even do that (keep your head calm and clean during this part, tolerate the itch), and be offended or something, then, I ask you, “How would you stay calm and clear headed while hearing a confession, or (powerful men) how do you not do bad things when you have the power to do it and get away with it?”
You’ve to live through the bad to appreciate the good.
As for the ordinary people, like me, who’re reading it, the trick works reversed. They are drawn in by the quick high of bubblegum thrills and erotic feels, but, in their attempt to get that fix/high they have to swallow in all the good stuff in the middle too. See!
Think about it, it works on several different levels.
So, back to the story, Ed walks out of Amsterdam cafe, high, stinky, and now, equipped with a big shit eating grin on his face! Hehe!
He had things to do, and, as he thought so, he suddenly remembered that he couldn’t remember what it was that he had to do! Dang! He was pissed, he had messed up again! He was trying to find a comfy wall to bang his head against, when suddenly, unexpectedly, uncomfortably, and annoyingly, he bumped into a familiar figure.
“Syd!”
“Eh?”
“It’s me, Ed!”
“Who?”
“Ed! Remember ‘the firecrackers, expired rat poison, and a dozen pictures of various armpits in your hamburger’ affair?”
“Darn, it’s really you! Why are you still alive? Why the hell did you have to do that to me?”
“What? Oh that, well, I had to throw them out somewhere. Sorry.”
“How can you even say that, you crazy guy? Just because the garbage can is full, doesn’t mean that you can to dump it in my hamburger!”
“Well, I’m sorry Syd, ok? I thought I was recycling, plus you’d better get used to it. I heard someday soon all the garbage cans in this world would be filled up, and when that happens, we’d have to start eating all the garbage up. That’d be the only way left, you know, so might as well start practising in advance, eh?”
“Oh really? Well, I still think that you’re ugly, and while I am at it, why are you wearing that butt ugly mask? No, wait a minute, darn, it’s not a mask, it’s your face, isn’t it? Wow, just wow!”
“Wait, wait, start from the beginning... that girl in the red miniskirt distracted me, sorry, I drifted, so what were you saying again?”
“Never mind that, what’re you doing here? You’re suppose to be waiting for me by the time machine!”
“Oh! Dang, so that’s what I was trying to remember!”
“What?”
“Never mind that, what are we doing here? We were suppose to be waiting for the bystander by the time machine! Let’s go Syd!”
And off they went and, immediately, got run over by a girl on a shiny tiny bike. They staggered up again and... Well, off they went.
The Time machine was humming faintly by the time they arrived. It was made by a bunch of Americans, Arabs, Russians, Chinese, Germans, Indians, Mexicans... blessed by the Queen herself, a Japanese black Mexican (whatever that is), knighted, piloting it with Koreans, and Thais. Fuelled by the Irish (don’t inquire about the fuel), decorated by the French, and well tested by well trained Eskimos!
Well, the list goes on, in short, the Time machine was so complex to make, that it took the unified resources and knowledge of this whole wide world to build the first prototype. This one, well, has a bit of alien technology, and ancient spells mixed into it too. It’s the standard official version. Works like a charm!
They got in, and off they went.
“Hi, wanna try this weed? It’s skunk!” Ed asked the pilot.
“Well, it’ll take us about an hour to get to our destination, so why not?” replied the pilot, immediately producing some rolling papers.
The party inside the Time machine went on fine, that is, until somebody accidentally sat on the control panel, either that, or the control panel got high to, hehe!
Things went wrong. They had to stop the machine and fix it before moving further.
The pilot stopped the machine, and they got out carefully, as they had no idea where they were and what time it was. Talk about being lost, eh?
They were on a black planet! A strangely familiar and nostalgic black planet, with black skies, and a black sun!
“HUMAN BEINGS!!! THANK GOD, YOUR FORGIVENESS IS GREAT!”
An absolutely insane guy wearing a Nazi armband called out. “Eh! How come I suddenly started speaking English?” he added, and scratched his head a bit.
“Who are you, dude, and where are we?” asked Syd.
“Limbo! The dark limbo! I was the man who fired the bullet that started world war 2, and for that I was punished, damned to live a lonely existence on this terrible, terrible planet for all eternity, I don’t know why god sent you ppl here, to me” replied the guy.
“What? How the hell did we get here, and how the hell do we get out?” asked Syd, obviously puzzled.
“I dunno, I’m just glad to have somebody to talk to, hell, I don’t care about race or religion anymore!” replied the guy, and with that, he tore off his Nazi armband and threw it away. “We’re all the same, we’re all human!” he added blissfully.
“I know...”
A thin guy appeared out of nowhere.
“I know you! You’re that guy I met before, in my dream, you’re...” Ed yelled but the other guy cut in.
“Yes, I am Eddieson, and I need your help.”
“What? How can we possibly help you? You’re the guy with all these weird powers!”
“Well yes, and I thought so too, but I realized that I too needed my help, you see. It’s simple. I have a message and I want it to be delivered to the masses through you. I tried to do it myself but people won’t listen to me, you see. However, I’m sure they’d listen to you guys, they all like your life story, they’re fans of you all, yes, they will listen to you, I guess.”
“Well, I don’t get what you’re saying one bit, but well, what’s the message anyways?” asked Syd, slightly hallucinating.
“It’s long, and I’m tired, so I had it written out. Here, you can read it out aloud for all of us to hear.” Said Eddieson, and handed Syd a note.
“I’m too stoned to read anything right now, here read this Ed.” Protested Syd, passing it on to Ed, who claimed the same excuse and passed it on to the pilot, who by now, could just barely stand.
The pilot just stood there for a few minutes, note in hand, while everybody waited eagerly, finally he said, “ I can’t read a damn thing, I’m sure it’s a painting!”
“Let me take a look at that! Oh, that’s my self portrait, well, no worries, I have the note in here somewhere...” and with that Eddieson produced another note and handed it back to the pilot.
“Dude, I can barely stand, are you stupid or something? Let the Nazi... oh sorry, I think he’s a German now... well, let the crazy German read it, I am baked!” protested the pilot shoving the note to the German.
“Read it, I made it short and direct this time, won’t take long.” Urged Eddieson, and yawning a bit, he added, “but first let’s have a joint!”
Well, they had one already rolled so they immediately got down to business.
Then, the crazy German cleared his throat and started reading, here what he read:
MESSAGE ONE: THIS WORLD HAS ALREADY BEEN DELETED!
The Mayans weren’t predicting the future, they were just recording the past. EARTH VERSION 1 had already ended/been deleted in 2012.
Like a computer infected with a virus, crashes, this world has already crashed/been deleted. Then, how are we still here, right?
Well, it’s somewhat similar (but at the same time different) to system recovery, the thing where you go back to a time, when your computed wasn’t infected yet, and restore it.
Same thing, well, kindda, we’ve all been given another chance, and we’re about to mess it up again, a second time, and this time around the virus will be more deadly, system recovery probably won’t work again. The virus evolved too, you see, it has updated itself, it learned! YOU HAVEN’T!
LET’S ACT DIFFERENT THIS TIME! LET’S DEFEAT THIS VIRUS! LET’S LIVE! UNITED!
MESSAGE TWO: MAN VS MACHINE!
As Fidel Castro’s brother puts it yesterday; it’s ok to have your own opinion.
Don’t worry about people who don’t think like you, who aren’t like you, who are of different race and religion. Don’t hate them, it’s all ok. Difference is what makes us human.
A world where different people learn to tolerate each other, and learn to live with each other is like a man who becomes a great man despite his weaknesses and demons. Such a world would be slightly volatile but that’s what makes it well rounded, special, and unique.
Our differences are what make this world “human”. Not just a giant trick, which, once you figure it out, is easily defeated, but a bag full of tricks! One after another, united, for each other!
A mixture of all, good and bad, yet, the good side prevailing gently, and without arrogance, would make this world into a human. Yes, lots of character faults and defects, yet prevailing, in spite of the gigantic odds, and at that instant, becoming LEGENDARY! A POWERFUL BEING, INSPIRATION!
Whereas, on the other hand, a world might progress under the iron rule of a single culture, or follow just one idea, and reject all other or destroy all others who don’t agree, and grow, working like a mean machine, and it’ll probably progress fast, but in the end, this world would grow up into a machine, heartless, emotionless, cold and hard, reduced to scrap iron! No matter how strong or advanced they get, they’d always be machines, restricted ideas, thought patterns. POWERFULL? YES, JUST A POWERFUL TOOL!
EASILY DEAFETED when hit with something alien to their programming, their thought pattern. We need this world to represent the living, not a second hand product (machines: the creation created by the creation of the creator)
Don’t forget being human, at the same time, don’t let your character faults tear you apart. Once that happens, you decay, a multi-cellular organism torn apart, each single cell off on their own, this world, a corpse! The galactic worms recycle you.
MESSAGE THREE: ARE YOU EXPERIANCED, NOW?
An airship!
Spirit, Dear Spirit, what lesson did you learn? Souls ride upon your flight. A hole in your heart, as in mine, a few souls enlightened, I guess. Ask them how it felt like to witness the near end of your world. It’s gonna happen to all of us soon if we keep this up.
A few souls, who were on it, will someday go on to do great things, keep a tab on them. They’re now experienced.
Rich, dear rich, did you think about the stock market, mansions, cars, and bank balance, or did you think about souls, in the possible end which you experienced?
On the other side, only souls... only souls for your soul...
MESSAGE FOUR: A CHALLANGE TO ALL THE PSYCHAITRIST!
Well, get together, aren’t you all the masters of the human mind? Well, see if you can fix it without any side effects. Are you all experienced enough to trick this whole world into being a gentle being instead of being the psychotic monster it’s almost morphed into?
World peace.
Consider that the holy grail of psychology, go on, see if you can do it. The saints, knights, and the gods of media are already on their way, because if we leave everything to our government, then we sure aren’t going anywhere. It’d be easier to do it our self than to make them understand. There’s no time to wait around for them to get to their senses! Let’s fix their mess ourselves or they’d probably never do it.
Let them do their thing, and let us see if we can focus our energy to save this world regardless of the direction they take. Let’s be the example they’ll follow!
TO SKULL AND BONES:
Skull and bones members, although I am not one of you, you must’ve already known me as I have, in near past, already felt your influence, directly or indirectly. You’ve a big role to play. This is your destiny, gear up!
MESSAGE FIVE: THIRD OF THE 22 LEVELS OF THE SELF-PORTRAIT
The self-portrait I mentioned earlier is designed after life and its deepest secrets.
Like I said before, it’s a wicked strong charm/spell or whatever it is that you wanna call it. A melting pot of 22 different charms from 22 different cultures.
You see, to enter the painting, or to find the truth, you must shed all your pre-conceived thoughts, become the little kid in the portrait/an open mind, harmless, ready for the quest, and then, and only then will you be able to enter.
It is a mental lock I designed to keep off bad people, but anyone with an open mind can enter it, because such a person, I am not afraid to show my true self to/have nothing to fear against a good person.
Next, the “hair” of thoughts, well, it’s a mixture of all emotions, thoughts, and feelings I had at that point. And the god with the helmet isn’t the devil, I say this because the helmet has horns and some of you might mistake him for the devil.
That god like being is my own invention. I call him “Thanos”. The helmet into which the hair of thought flows into, is a recycle bin. The good thoughts remain intact, just get updated, and the bad /negative thoughts and feelings get recycled, through “Thanos” or death, in order to act out “level two”. Level two is the thing I posted on some site about the boy (open mind) growing into the wolf (pathfinder) into the eagle (enlighten/vision) into the warrior (power to pull the vision, see the job through). In the end, level two will pass through “Thanos” again, and all that remains will be the thoughts I had, my ideas etc, through which I hope to live on, in your minds and perhaps, if I am lucky, in your hearts too.
The curtains represent performance, action, recognition, and the ability of witness reality from an outsiders/alien point of view while being involved in it the same time. In short, to know exactly what you’re doing, in advance. A little message which tells you, “I’ll try to entertain you into being good. This whole world’s a stage, don’t let the audience cheer your ruin and death.” A little nod to Zeno’s theory.
And the “Navigation wheel”, well, we’ll come to that last, for now, all I’ll say is that it’s alive!
NOTE: I added the self portrait bit to help you learn how to make your mind open to view ideas alien, because your mind can’t just tie itself up into a knot every time it senses something alien or new, nor should it lash out bitterly and automatically.
I hope it’s an exercise in becoming more tolerable, open minded, and understanding, which we desperately need to be now, or it’s the end real soon!
Take good care of me and you, ok?
Regards -Eddieson okram
“Well” said Eddieson, “that’s about it.”
“Don’t worry, we’ll tell everyone that.” Ed said, scratching his chin and thinking deeply.
“Well, take the crazy German back home (you’d need to read earlier chapters to get this part) with you too, he suffered for the sins of his people, and now he is freed by the deeds of his people... my, my, how people change! Oh, and don’t worry, no need to tell anyone about my message, it’s already done! Take care buddy!” Eddieson replied, looking at a photo of his Jackie, (the note read was written on the back of her photo) and with that they all got into the Time machine (which now was working fine, funny eh?) and off they went again!
Well, world, which way?
Heaven?
Hell?
The choice is yours, hell you want, hell I shall deliver, heaven you want, heaven, I shall deliver!
Make up your mind already, we’re almost in hell!

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!