First and last paragraph from Twilight by Stephenie Meyer
My mother drove me to the airport with the windows rolled down. It was seventy five degrees in Phoenix, the sky a perfect, cloudless blue. I was wearing my favorite shirt - sleeveless, white eyelet lace; I was wearing it as a farewell gesture. My carry-on item was a parka.
Onlookers gave disgusted scowls at the sight of a 34 year old man weighing 316 lbs in a shirt more fitting for a 16 year old girl and a women's parka, but I wanted to be my own me, so I took pleasure in their disappointment.
"Mom, would you roll the windows up and turn the air on? My hair is blowing all over the place," I yelled frantically. She retorted, "Oh, calm down, Norman. We're almost to the airport, you're lucky I'm letting you pick up your friend there." I was taken aback at her disrespect for my wishes. "I told you to call me Hammer of Don, mom. I know no Norman."
She shot back, "I named you Norman Leonard Finklestein the day you were born, and that has been your name your entire life."
"Has been!" I yelled, "But it isn't any more! My chosen and respective name is Hammer of Don, and once I scrape together the required funds, I will have my name legally changed."
I was upset with her, but the feeling fleetingly left my mind as we rolled up to the airport. "What's up Hammer?" shouted my friend, Larry, with his trademark lisp. "Oh, not much, but this old hag is really raining on my parade today," I said while pointing at the woman I once called my mother.
"Hey!" yelled my mom from the front seat. "Don't talk about me like that! I am your mother and you will respect me!"
Larry and I rolled our eyes, but it was okay because this weekend was going to be a blast. We sat in the back seat on the way home, giggling and joking while we traded Magic, Pokemon, and Yu-Gi-Oh cards in the back seat.
"You'll never guess what I found!" yelled Larry, suddenly. He pulled Exodia the Forbidden One, a rare Yu-Gi-Oh card. "I was walking in the park one day," he said, "When out of the blue, I look down and there it is, Exodia staring me right in the face. I pushed over an old man, threw a baby out of the way, and stepped on some kid's hand to get to it as fast as possible.
An envy so great I couldn't possibly compare it to any existing standard welled up inside me. For a moment I considered opening Larry's door and shoving him out, while I kept the card for myself. My mother would be in shock, of course, and I would need to take the wheel. I never actually received a license or permit, but I drove a go kart once, and hit only a few things for the many long feet that I drove it.
After some long thought considering what the most legal and peaceful way to obtain the card would be, I decided I would offer money for the acquisition. I quickly plunged my hand into my mother's purse, digging around for her wallet. I needed that money, so I tossed a comb, a bunch of key rings, some gum, and some pictures out the window as I dug frantically into the abyss.
After slapping her hand away numerous times, I finally got what I wanted. I opened the wallet and grabbed a handful of hundred dollar bills. I offered the money to Larry, and he accepted graciously.
"Hey, you can't just give away my money!" the old hag yelled from the front seat. She was always a pushover, so where others would have stopped the car and smacked me silly, she just shook her head and kept driving.
Suddenly, Larry pulled a book from his fanny pack. "This is Twilight," he said with a dorky smile across his face, spitting in my eye. "It's basically the greatest book ever."
"Yeah, I've read it," I said. "It was pretty cool. Who's your favorite character?" I inquired. "Jacob Black," he said back to me. Rage began to boil inside, because I was on Team Edward. Suddenly, I just blocked him out. It was pure silence. Then I took the form of a ball and rolled from the car.
If the silence in my head lasted I would never go back. I wouldn't be the first to choose this form over the other. Maybe, if I ran far enough away, I would never have to hear again...
I pushed my legs faster, letting Jacob Black disappear behind me.
Sunday, April 29, 2012
New Ideas
Alright, let's admit it. This blog is pretty dang stale. One of the problems is, obviously, that I don't write nearly often enough. I am aware of this, but we have yet to see whether this will change or not. Another problem is starting the stories. I often have a little trouble beginning my stories and coming up with a good plot to base the parody of sorts on. To curb these issues and hopefully make overall more interesting stories for the few readers I may or may not have, I will try beginning my stories with the first paragraph of an already existing story, whether it be a short story, novel, etc. so long as it's a popular story. I figure it's all fair game because taking from a serious story could in theory be a good, effective way to start a parody. So, from now on (at least temporarily) this will be the course of action.
Sunday, January 15, 2012
InstaHang - Dictated by Dr. James "the Jack" Johnson, PhD Disclamer: He is not a certified physician.- Typed by Josiah "Baxter" Johnson
My original plan was to write a 100% factual story once a week. Promise you won't be mad.... but I sort of missed my mark, in that I haven't written in the last 11 months, and that story was 3 months after the last before it. Not to mention, not all my stories have been 100% factual... they've been about 213% factual. So, without further uhdoo, here's my story.
There was once a General of the Chinese army. He was a wealthy man, and often wore suits with a high thread count, as wealthy men do, because he was wealthy, had plenty of money, and was loaded. He also liked to look presentable, okay? Get off the man's case! Unfortunately, he didn't want to be a general. He was drafted into the military at a very young age (living in a communist country), and he excelled quickly. What he really wanted was to be a truck driver in the United States, and experience nagging dispatchers, irritating DOT inspections, live away from family and friends for long periods of time, and eat greasy truckstop food. But that is another story entirely, and does not have its hand in this one. The general's mother was a famous cook, and had her own show on the Chinese equivalent of the Food channel, the name of which roughly translates to, "What, You Don't Like Our Communist, Government Provided Food? Network". The name was forced by the communist government, and the government seemed to be hostile to the channel. However, the government officials did enjoy forcing their inferior wives to make the food displayed on the channel, and so it stayed. But his mother was long away from her job at the WYDLOCGPR Network, as she was on her death bed. The General came as soon as he could when the news was delivered to him by a small Chinese boy who was later beaten for diverting from his pre-scheduled day, as every communist child had. He leaned in to his mother to listen, as she struggled to gasp for air, every breath becoming weaker and weaker. "Son, I left," she said, stopping to cough and pull in enough air to speak. "Would you please speak up, mother?!" shouted the General, putting his female mother into her rightful place in the Communist Chinese system. "I left you a gift." she struggled to say. "Would you just come out with it mother, and please annunciate, I don't want to be here all day," said the General. His mother was taken aback, but she continued, "I left you three tons of my famous chicken. I even named it after you. It's kept in a vacuum sealed freezer so it will last." She looked at her boy with a proud expression on her face, but he just looked confused and angry. "You're just leaving me chicken?! What a parting gift that is!" her son shouted. He continued to throw over her bedside table and storm out of the room, his mother breaking into tears. What a tragic moment that would have been, right? Well, it was pretty bad, but fortunately for her she got better in a matter of days, and was thriving after a month. The General paid no mind to his mother's recovery, however, because he had work to do. Or so he thought. He sat for days, pondering what to do. There had to be some infidel to attack, right? Some evil military force, maybe a country talking smack, or a group of innocent civilians expressing their desire for an actual republic, as their name suggests, instead of a communism. But nothing came to mind. He sat pondering, while his right hand man, Ying-yang Ping-pong awaited his orders. "Sir," Ying-yang said, "what exactly are we going to do? You've had our entire military at attention for days now, but we have yet to hear one order other than to ready for battle." Ying-yang Ping-pong had a point. The General responded, "Hold it Ying-yang, I need to ponder." He sat in silence, thinking about what he could do. "Ying-yang Ping-pong, my right hand man with a ridiculous, stereotypical Asian name," the General said. "Would you please order an attack on all civilians who want a republic?" Ying-yang sat for a few seconds, with a concerned look on his face. "So, you want open season on anyone who is not a government official, sir?" The General thought it over, and changed his mind. "No, I've changed my mind," he said. "I know," responded Ying-yang, "the narrator has made it quite clear that you have changed your mind. The General was concerned by Ying-yang's schizophrenia, but shook it off and continued. "We'll attack China, those communist pigs!" the General exclaimed. "We are China," said Ying-yang. The General was confused for a moment, then realized how correct Ying-yang Ping-pong was. "Russia?" he asked. "No," responded Ying-yang, "that will probably cause a nuclear war." He thought for a moment. "United Kingdom?" he asked. "Nuclear war." "Iran?" he continued. "Nuclear." Ying-yang retorted. "United States?" the General asked. Ying-yang said nothing, he was just in shock by the General's insanity. "Sir, would you excuse me?" asked Ying-yang. "I thought you looked a little antsy." the General replied, "Do you have to pee?" Ying-yang left the room. The General sat for a few minutes, then a few men in suits entered the room. One said, "Sir, you've been relieved of your position, as you have suggested going to war with the country whose name is not spoken. They would utterly crush us, and we know it. We are not suicidal, just power hungry." With those words, the General was out of work. He got home, but General Tso yelled with a disheartened, angry look and a baffled tone, "Who the heck ate all my chicken?!" But he noticed that the perpetrator left their pants. In it he found a wallet, with a torn library card that had the remains of a name, ending in "siah Johnson". He was angry, but upon finding a Zippo lighter in the pocket, he was overjoyed, and played with it to his heart's content. This alone was enough to constitute the overused, almost expected ending of, "and he lived happily ever after." But don't fret. He died in a house fire started by the lighter only three weeks later.
There was once a General of the Chinese army. He was a wealthy man, and often wore suits with a high thread count, as wealthy men do, because he was wealthy, had plenty of money, and was loaded. He also liked to look presentable, okay? Get off the man's case! Unfortunately, he didn't want to be a general. He was drafted into the military at a very young age (living in a communist country), and he excelled quickly. What he really wanted was to be a truck driver in the United States, and experience nagging dispatchers, irritating DOT inspections, live away from family and friends for long periods of time, and eat greasy truckstop food. But that is another story entirely, and does not have its hand in this one. The general's mother was a famous cook, and had her own show on the Chinese equivalent of the Food channel, the name of which roughly translates to, "What, You Don't Like Our Communist, Government Provided Food? Network". The name was forced by the communist government, and the government seemed to be hostile to the channel. However, the government officials did enjoy forcing their inferior wives to make the food displayed on the channel, and so it stayed. But his mother was long away from her job at the WYDLOCGPR Network, as she was on her death bed. The General came as soon as he could when the news was delivered to him by a small Chinese boy who was later beaten for diverting from his pre-scheduled day, as every communist child had. He leaned in to his mother to listen, as she struggled to gasp for air, every breath becoming weaker and weaker. "Son, I left," she said, stopping to cough and pull in enough air to speak. "Would you please speak up, mother?!" shouted the General, putting his female mother into her rightful place in the Communist Chinese system. "I left you a gift." she struggled to say. "Would you just come out with it mother, and please annunciate, I don't want to be here all day," said the General. His mother was taken aback, but she continued, "I left you three tons of my famous chicken. I even named it after you. It's kept in a vacuum sealed freezer so it will last." She looked at her boy with a proud expression on her face, but he just looked confused and angry. "You're just leaving me chicken?! What a parting gift that is!" her son shouted. He continued to throw over her bedside table and storm out of the room, his mother breaking into tears. What a tragic moment that would have been, right? Well, it was pretty bad, but fortunately for her she got better in a matter of days, and was thriving after a month. The General paid no mind to his mother's recovery, however, because he had work to do. Or so he thought. He sat for days, pondering what to do. There had to be some infidel to attack, right? Some evil military force, maybe a country talking smack, or a group of innocent civilians expressing their desire for an actual republic, as their name suggests, instead of a communism. But nothing came to mind. He sat pondering, while his right hand man, Ying-yang Ping-pong awaited his orders. "Sir," Ying-yang said, "what exactly are we going to do? You've had our entire military at attention for days now, but we have yet to hear one order other than to ready for battle." Ying-yang Ping-pong had a point. The General responded, "Hold it Ying-yang, I need to ponder." He sat in silence, thinking about what he could do. "Ying-yang Ping-pong, my right hand man with a ridiculous, stereotypical Asian name," the General said. "Would you please order an attack on all civilians who want a republic?" Ying-yang sat for a few seconds, with a concerned look on his face. "So, you want open season on anyone who is not a government official, sir?" The General thought it over, and changed his mind. "No, I've changed my mind," he said. "I know," responded Ying-yang, "the narrator has made it quite clear that you have changed your mind. The General was concerned by Ying-yang's schizophrenia, but shook it off and continued. "We'll attack China, those communist pigs!" the General exclaimed. "We are China," said Ying-yang. The General was confused for a moment, then realized how correct Ying-yang Ping-pong was. "Russia?" he asked. "No," responded Ying-yang, "that will probably cause a nuclear war." He thought for a moment. "United Kingdom?" he asked. "Nuclear war." "Iran?" he continued. "Nuclear." Ying-yang retorted. "United States?" the General asked. Ying-yang said nothing, he was just in shock by the General's insanity. "Sir, would you excuse me?" asked Ying-yang. "I thought you looked a little antsy." the General replied, "Do you have to pee?" Ying-yang left the room. The General sat for a few minutes, then a few men in suits entered the room. One said, "Sir, you've been relieved of your position, as you have suggested going to war with the country whose name is not spoken. They would utterly crush us, and we know it. We are not suicidal, just power hungry." With those words, the General was out of work. He got home, but General Tso yelled with a disheartened, angry look and a baffled tone, "Who the heck ate all my chicken?!" But he noticed that the perpetrator left their pants. In it he found a wallet, with a torn library card that had the remains of a name, ending in "siah Johnson". He was angry, but upon finding a Zippo lighter in the pocket, he was overjoyed, and played with it to his heart's content. This alone was enough to constitute the overused, almost expected ending of, "and he lived happily ever after." But don't fret. He died in a house fire started by the lighter only three weeks later.
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