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Monday, January 9, 2006

Another Short Piece Of Shitty Fiction

Another piece of shitty fiction to accompany the previous piece of shitty fiction.

"She sure was one funny broad", the man mumbled to himself. After leaving the bordello, he ambled around aimlessly for a brief while trying desperately to discover something to do.

The man stopped abruptly, unzipped his pants, and began to relieve himself. He waited to see if there was an accompanying burning sensation. There wasn't. "Good," he thought, "hopefully she didn't have the clap." After watering the pavement for a full minute, he continued on his way.

Spying a bar down the road, he aimed his wandering form in that direction and continued on his way. Passing a dirty alley between two buildings, the man noticed a few drunkards. They appeared to be traipsing about on another plane of consciousness. Comfortably enmeshed in the arms of Morpheus. To be blunt, the fuckers were passed out.

The man turned down the alley thinking about dropping a few bills on the harmless drunks. Stepping across a large bundle of trash he heard a yelp.

"Hey, fucko. Watch yourself".

The man looked down and saw a clown. The guy was seriously all duded up in a clown outfit. Makeup and all. It took all the man had to stifle the giggle building up inside him.

"What?" the angry clown demanded.

"Nothin'. Sorry" the man stated and turned away.

Suddenly, he saw a flash in his eyes and his bowels almost completely gave way. That fucking clown had smacked him in the yambag with his oversized clown shoe.

"Who's laughing now, fucko?" the clown growled.

The man shook his head until his vision cleared, turned, and took a violent swing in the direction of the clown. He missed. The clown, who was amazingly nimble, ducked the oncoming blow and launched another volley of nut shots via his giant shoe.

The man took three more shots to the sack and fumbled to his knees. The last thing he saw was a large white clown fist slamming into his face.

When the man awoke a few minutes later, he found himself propped up against a wall with the clown sitting opposite him. The clown was perusing the contents of the man's wallet.

"Toby?" the clown asked.

"What's it to ya?" the man replied.

"But Toby...I'm your brother."

The man squinted and tried to make out some features through the garish clown makeup. Sure enough, he did resemble Timothy, although Toby hadn't seen him in years.

"Timothy? Shit. I haven't seen you in years. What the hell have you been up to?"

The clown shrugged.

"I been a fucking clown. Look at me." He shrugged again. "Sorry about your nuts."

The clown helped the man to his feet and they both headed out of the alley and toward the bar for a few drinks to catch up on old times.

At that moment, a flying Neanderthal man swooped down and decapitated both of them with a rather large warhammer. The clown's head bounced three times before resting near a curb.

Ironically enough, he wasn't really Toby's brother. He had simply seen some old letters from Timothy in Toby's wallet and ran with it. In truth, he was just some fucking clown looking for a free drink. Frankly, that crazy Neanderthal saved Toby a few bucks. Granted, he killed him, but still.

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