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GRUEBERFEST '07 R2- Skeleton Grin and Bare it (NSFW) (1199 hits)

Category: None

Rating: 1.84 on 11 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Labels:

Submitted by Mayh3m (View user info) at 2007-10-11 17:17:28 EDT


It's sick the things I have to do. Day in and day out, the bodies everywhere emit the most putrid smell. I can't stand it, though it's that very reason my job is so rewarding. Wiping bones of any imperfections the flesh causes makes me feel alive. My head pounds, my hands shake, and my mouth dries, but that ivory glow at the end of the tunnel helps me start over the process every time. There are only two instances in my life where I truly feel as if I cannot go on. The first is whenever I'm out in public.

You see, because I meet most people at their worse, all the makeup and perfume in the world couldn't mask what my mind knows about this hapless existence. I see the sultry blonde in the red dress walking down the street, and rather than cum I vomit. I see the little boy on the bike crossing the street in the middle of traffic, and I pray that he won't end up on my table tomorrow, if only because children smell the least when they are alive. It's particularly terrible whenever I'm invited out to dinner. Watching others put that food in their mouth angers me because they seem to enjoy it so much...Too much. Little do they know how much time, not to mention money, they're wasting by doing such a thing. People would be better off if they were like me- Order water, and then walk behind the place and dig from the trash. It all ends up the same, and everyone would save themselves time, not to mention money. This leads to my second peeve: The time I spend alone.

I'm always alone. At work, there's no time to mingle, nor would anyone want to get to know a fellow like me at a workplace like mine. The body comes in, I gut it, rub it down, and send the bones off to the highest bidder. I have my own...Office, I guess you could call it, and with technology, people don't even have to come in to bring the body. Someone's grandfather just emerges from the black plastic, courtesy of a conveyer belt. Usually the process takes me about 2 hours to complete, which is quite fast according to what my supervisor tells me. Once my shift is over, I go home to a one bedroom apartment that's across the street. Its proximity to the "meat" plant makes it cheap and convenient, so no complainants there; it's the seclusion that frustrates me. Everyone in my building avoids me like the plague, and I believe my neighbor thinks I'm a serial killer of some sort. As for having company over, there was only one time I can remember when I had an actual date. Somewhere between dinner and showing her where I worked however, she lost interest. What amazed me is that she seemed to be into that sort of thing, with her black make up, pale skin, and tattoos. I guess looks can be deceiving. That didn't bother me much, though the way her skin sunk into her bones did excite me enough to forget her stench.

Ultimately, I was forced into two options: Either talk to myself, which seems all but insane, or give these dead bodies life. I think the choice is obvious. I don't remember which skeleton I courted first, but I eventually started keeping track of who came in, why, and what their interests are. I soon realized that there was no possible way I could hold a conversation with their skin still attached. I wanted to free the beauty that was locked inside, so I'd rush to get all that tendon removed. I scraped away all the tissue, dissolved the bloodied remains, and once the bones were white, our "date" began.


Skeletons don't say anything interesting. I'd usually just wait until their soul dived into the next life, but soon the skeletons began asking me questions. There was one in particular, her name was Mel, that asked me what I believed made a person perfect. I told her that I believed our bones is what made us, and that every person had one good, absolute bone that we were destined to share with the world. As she laughed at my notion and faded away, I pondered my answer. I thought how grand it would be to share that bone with the world....and that's when I came to a solution.


I'd ask each skeleton what they felt their greatest attribute was, and from there deduce just what bone would be considered the perfect bone. I'd keep them in a jar, and once I had all the parts for a complete skeleton, I'd assemble it. Logically, if there was a "perfect" part, one where no weakness would be evident, that could somehow prove evolution, or even presence of a higher power. I would be the facilitator for something extraordinary

One by one, as they bled on the table, and I cleaned them off, I started to ask them what their favorite topics are. Sometimes they would answer immediately, but some were defensive and I'd had to toy with them until I got what I wanted: Their perfect part. Once they identified it to me, I waited until they were through talking, and then I'd swipe the part. The company never kept logs of anything; they just wanted bones, and they wanted them as fast as possible. They did suspect something was up when I started taking a backpack with me, but I didn't handle cash, so they didn't ask questions. I filled up on bones quickly, and met with a dilemma once doubles started surfacing.

I asked my skeletons which ones looked better. Some would make sound decisions, but others would proclaim theirs was the best, and it was those remains I never took; An envy is a pox on mankind. Finally, two months later, I had all the bones necessary. As I began piecing together the parts, I reminisced on these people's lives. The cyclist that was killed by cancer, the scientist that died of a heart attack, and even the plumber that died from a tragic fall. Each came from different backgrounds, but would soon be one person- one ultimate, beautiful person. So beautiful, and so perfect that...I felt something for them. My heart booming inside my chest, my hands tingling, my pants feeling...tighter- it was all new sensations to me. Perfect is all this person will ever be, and the thought made me...love the skeleton. Skin is all that's wrong with us, so imagine if I created a person that never knew skin because they would never be given skin. Too bad no one would ever believe that I created this marvelous being, and not God, or some higher power.

Not unless I had a witness.

How ironic that a sin of the flesh is what I planned to commit next. I needed someone there with me to watch me become God, so I took to the streets and searched for the least repulsive human being. The closest I could get was a boy I'd come to know as Jonathan. He seemed to be heading to school on this Tuesday morning. I walked up next to him and asked him if he wanted to see God. At first, he hesitated, walking quicker and attempting to put his iPod louder. I continued to harass him until he finally began to sprint, at which point I grabbed him by the neck and forced him to come with me.

Once we settled back at my apartment, he started to cry and beg for his parents and his freedom. I made it very clear to him that he would not get either until he saw what I was doing. I tied him to a chair and threw his iPod out the window, along with his backpack and clothes (I had to remove them, they smelled too much like an adult). His yelling and screaming began to give me a headache, so I duct-taped his mouth. Looking back, Jonathan was just an innocent bystander, but I needed someone here, and he was the only audience I could stomach. Three hours passed and I was still trying to figure out where pieces went. As I explained to Jonathan what was going on, he stopped crying and finally seemed to enjoy what were doing. I removed the tape and he asked me questions about the significance of each bone, and how I was going to prove God existed. I scoffed at the latter, telling him I wouldn't prove God exists- I would prove that I am in fact God incarnate. I would prove to him that out of all the humans on this earth, I was the ultimate being because I would create perfection- the one thing no one else could. His questions grew mundane after some time, and I placed the duct-tape back on his mouth as I finished up.

The skeleton was finally complete, and absolutely perfect. So beautiful...So...

That's when the feeling returned- my heart booming inside my chest, my hands tingling, my pants feeling...tighter. Except this time, I was starring right at my creation. I knew this was my chance to live, and I would not pass it up. I took off my clothes and began kissing the bones. I licked the skull, and rubbed my hands on the ribcage. Each one felt so sharp, so smooth, and so delicate. It was like a dream, and everything turned black and white. The apartment and Jonathan disappeared, and it was just me and the perfect person. We were there all alone, in the clouds, on a bed, and as it began to speak I put my finger on its jaw and went "shhhh" and starred into its gaping eye sockets. I saw nothing in them, and it was magnificent. Then I felt this pain centering around my stomach, and I looked down.

Blood

No...No NO NO! NOT on...NO! Not on my perfect bones! I had to get up, it was getting stained. But..I couldn't..I can't...move....The white left and I only saw black...Why....Why...Why.....my hush....

***
"The neighbors called the cops when they heard a small boy yelling from his apartment. When the team got here, they saw the backpack and clothes and knew something was up. We narrowed it down to this apartment number and stormed right in."

"How did they find him...I see he's naked, did he rape the boy?"

"Nope. The boy said the man didn't touch him, except to take off the boy's clothes. It seems our friend here was only interested in the skeletal remains. The boy noticed the man started talking to it, then took his clothes off and hopped on top of the skeleton, and that's when-"

"That's how he got this...Erection?"

"Yep. The team swarmed in and took him out."

"What do you think was the last thing he told the skeleton?"

"Grin and bare it."

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User Reviews


Submitted by YELLOW-MAN (user info) at 2007-10-13 13:52:15 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

No Comment

Submitted by J_Man (user info) at 2007-10-12 20:55:26 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

No Comment

Submitted by Brdn_Nkd (user info) at 2007-10-12 12:47:22 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

Submitted by CaptainThorns (user info) at 2007-10-11 17:31:44 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

Good story, and it would have stood on its own without the pic.



few minor word substitutions/mispellings but nothing to detract from an engorging tale.


I sadi ENGAGING.

Submitted by monkeyswithguns (user info) at 2007-10-12 11:28:04 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

900 MHz of awesome.

Submitted by ghola (user info) at 2007-10-12 09:45:30 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

No Comment

Submitted by HotWillie (user info) at 2007-10-11 18:04:06 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1

No Comment

Submitted by CaptainThorns (user info) at 2007-10-11 17:31:44 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

Good story, and it would have stood on its own without the pic.

Submitted by sir_cowman (user info) at 2007-10-11 17:25:53 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

No Comment

Submitted by sir_cowman (user info) at 2007-10-11 17:25:46 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

goddamn it, i meant to +2 this, man. I'm so sorry. seriously.

fuck.

Submitted by sir_cowman (user info) at 2007-10-11 17:24:11 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1

The MS paint-edited skull fuck pic is kinda... lame.

Submitted by sir_cowman (user info) at 2007-10-11 17:20:21 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

You know, Ballare is really bad at titles, and this is no exception.

But you, you did okay. You did better than okay. You did great.

Go you.


Oh, `no attitude,' eh? Not `in your face,' huh? Well, you can cram it
with walnuts, ugly!

-- Homer Simpson
The Itchy & Scratchy & Poochie Show