Ubertines '07 - The true meaning of Valentine's day found in a threesome with a unicorn and orc (555 hits)
Category: NoneRating: 2 on 16 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by Fungah (View user info) at 2007-02-05 13:08:58 EST
"They just keep re-writing the same book over and over again, so more people will have to buy it. It's just literary vomit." Bob said. Bob was lying on his bed. His girlfriend's head was lying flat across his stomach. Bob's girlfriend, Chelsea, had strawberry hair that looked brighter than usual, rays of sunshine lit her hair up like a fire. Tongues of hair were spilled across Bob's stomach and onto his bed.
"So why do people keep buying them?" Asked Chelsea, gazing at the ceiling.
"A new story, some new information, a few extra commas, a colon or two." Said Bob, putting his hands beside his head.
"Books are stupid."
"How are books stupid? The entirety of human knowledge has been put into books for thousands of years. How can you tell me that books are stupid?"
"We have the internet now, they're obsolete."
"And have you ever read a book on the internet Bob?"
"No."
They sat there without a word. They were both stoned. The music hit its stride and the screech of violins and the ghostly warbling of a singing saw drowned out the feedback of electric guitars and furious drumming.
"I'm terrified of dying. Sometimes I wake up in a cold sweat, and it all just kind of hits me at once that one day I'm going to die. My muscles kind of tense up, and my head is still kind of loaded with all those after-images of dreams, you know, like you've been sucked out of one place that makes no sense and thrown right into another? And then I get out of bed, and that fear kind of fades for a day, maybe two, and then you're asleep and dreaming and you wake up and it's all kind of there again, you know?"
"That's fucked up Chels."
"What, you're not afraid to die? Don't tell me you're that confident about the after-life." That music had reached a low, the song had ended in a shrieking blast of violins, drums, and electric guitar in the middle of Chelsea's speech, then changed. The errant twinkling of xylophones was held under a layer of French horns and trumpets as Bob responded:
"I can't say I've ever thought about it."
"With all the shit you talk to me about, Ayn Rand, Nietzsche, fucking Kant, all that shit you read, you're telling me you've never thought about death?"
"No not really." Said Bob.
"It is kind of ridiculous isn't it? I mean, I just kind of figured that maybe if I didn't think about it I wouldn't have to face it, mind over matter kind of thing you know?"
"You're still going to die though." Chelsea turned her head towards Bob. Bob caught a brief glimpse of her eyes flaring up like emeralds as they caught the brunt of the setting sun's rays. "Fuck it's bright out." They laughed.
"And another thing." Chelsea lifted herself up off her side and leaned against the wall. "If books are so obsolete, why the hell is that bookshelf overflowing?" She gestured towards the Ikea bookshelf tucked into the corner of the room, and the pile of open books that seemed to be in a perpetual state of growth, like a mold, or a fungus.
"Well isn't it obvious?" Asked Bob.
"No it really isn't."
"I don't believe in the internet."
"Oh shut up." Chelsea threw her legs over the edge of the bed. "I'm sick of this post-rock shit. Do you have any Dead Kennedys?"
"A couple songs I think."
Chelsea tinkered with the mouse and bob continued to look up at the ceiling. Faint specks of barely perceptible colour dotted the roof, a side effect of last night's acid, brought on by the pot. Jello Biafra was shrieking something about chemical warfare out of Bob's speakers. Bob could barely understand a word.
"See." Said Chelsea, sitting down in Bob's computer chair, throwing her legs onto the bed "This is why I don't buy into any of that literature or philosophical shit. It's too convoluted you know? You need to spend so much time in universities to even know what they're talking about, by the time you get out you don't have a chance in hell."
"Haven't you been in school for like, five years?"
"Yeah but that's different Bob. You see." Chelsea lit a smoke, and took a drag. She exhaled and the setting sun caught the clod of smoke and drifted around the room in thin, billowy fingers. "They teach me how to create Bob, they're telling you how to think. That's the difference. Poetry, I can believe in that. But philosophy, prose, literature, any of that shit, it's telling you what to think, it's just indoctrination."
"You can thank indoctrination for democracy Chelsea."
"And what's so great about that?"
Bob paused. "I don't really know." Chelsea laughed and climbed up onto the bed, handing Bob her cigarette.
"See, here's what we really need to do Bob. First, we need to kill the fucking president. Gut him, just chop his head off, let the first lady go, and just kill all the pigs in the white house."
"Shit, you're all flowers and sunshine today aren't you?"
"Just shut up for a second. Right, after that we need to just give everyone a rabbit. A real, fluffy dwarf rabbit, with those big floppy ears. The- then jus- just let everyone v-vote for another-" Chelsea burst into laughter. "Fuck I'm stoned."
"Me too." Bob said vacantly. The sun was setting, Bob's room was rose colored. The dead Kennedy's song ended, and the tortured harmonic chorus of a Bob Dylan song wafted into the room. Bob closed his eyes and Chelsea followed suit, they listened to Bob Dylan in silence.
*Those possessing any amount of sanity will stop reading here*
"Bob." Said Chelsea.
"Yes?" Said Bob.
"Do you love me?"
"Yes." Said Bob.
"Good" Said Chelsea. "Because there's something I have to tell you."
"What's that?" Said Bob.
"I'm a werewolf."
"Good." Said Bob. "Because I'm a vampire."
"That's nice." Said Chelsea, laughing. "Let's smoke more pot."
"Good idea." Said Bob. They both got up and threw on their jackets. Bob grabbed pot, and a pipe from his drawer, and they walked outside and got stoned as the sun set.
"I love you so much" Said Chelsea, pulling Bob closer as navy twilight spread across the sky. She put her lips on his, filling his mouth with smoke. Bob could feel the sensual stubble of her face against his clean-shaven skin.
"Man, I'm stoned." Said Bob, falling on his ass. "I'm so fucking baked."
"Me too" Said Chelsea, sitting beside him, wrapping him in her strong, muscular arms and drawing her fingernails across his back.
"Babe you really need to trim those nails"
"Growl"
"Growl? What the fuck Chelsea? Oh my god you're a werewolf. What the fuck!?"
Chelsea tore Bob apart in a bloody shower of viscera and entrails. She carried his corpse back into his room in her teeth, and began to eat -
"What the fuck?" Bob sat up, the sun had sank and Bob's room was dark.
"What? What?" Chelsea said, groggily.
"Fuck, I really need to lay off the pot."
"Fuck you" Said the gnome in the corner.
"Chelsea, I'm seeing the gnome again. And he has a knife."
"RUN BOB! RUN FOR YOUR LIFE! OH MY GOD HIS EYES ARE SO BLOODSHOT AND BEADY, BOB RUN!"
Unfortunately, the morbidly obese Bob underestimated the top land speed of fictional creatures, so his room turned into a blood-bath. The gnome was never caught and went back to gnometropolis to snort gnome-coke and shoot dwarf-smack, and fuck many, many trolls. And on that day, the psychotic gnome learned the true meaning of Valentine's day, when in a drunken stupor he was able to wheel a threesome with a unicorn and an orc.
THA END.
User Reviews
Submitted by Orgasmatron (user info) at 2007-02-06 22:16:42 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
"I'm a werewolf."
"Good." Said Bob. "Because I'm a vampire."
"That's nice." Said Chelsea, laughing. "Let's smoke more pot."
---
I guarantee this was the original idea some overpaid dipshit had for those Underworld and Blood & Chocolate movies.
Submitted by Coyote (user info) at 2007-02-05 23:03:17 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Growl!
Submitted by Unabonger (user info) at 2007-02-05 21:26:10 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
I thought it was excellent. I won't beat this with that crap I posted.
Submitted by Sacrilicious (user info) at 2007-02-05 21:05:35 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Love the description of the music. This read to me a bit like a scene from "Waking Life." The end was gloriously ridiculous.
Submitted by forensicgirl3 (user info) at 2007-02-05 20:43:49 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
I believe the picture is a representation of what humans would look like if their bodies reflected the surface areas of the brain devoted to the sensations of various body parts.
Submitted by Fungah (user info) at 2007-02-05 19:26:55 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Suck my kiss.
Submitted by SkullBiter (user info) at 2007-02-05 18:26:49 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Amazed.
Submitted by Fungah (user info) at 2007-02-05 16:48:17 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Thank you for the words of writing you have placed into the bottom of my story!
Submitted by Gunslinger (user info) at 2007-02-05 15:55:24 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Sweet.
For Gnomergon!
Submitted by Amontillado (user info) at 2007-02-05 15:48:51 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
this sounds like a dream i'd have
Submitted by ghola (user info) at 2007-02-05 15:45:37 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
teh rock
Submitted by sweetcheebs (user info) at 2007-02-05 15:43:44 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
interesting
Submitted by JonnyX (user info) at 2007-02-05 15:34:07 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
A threesome with Coley? and who else?
Submitted by Beano312003 (user info) at 2007-02-05 13:32:49 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
lovely stuff.... uber needs more weird shit like this.
Submitted by kaos-king (user info) at 2007-02-05 13:24:40 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Dude!!!
This was beautiful, then utterly bizarre...
Submitted by forthewin (user info) at 2007-02-05 13:14:32 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
You stole this from my diary didn't you?