"Alright, I fucking hate this but it's true. Jacob is John Conner. Just roll with me on this, I have to explain it like a movie cause movies are philosophy, and we're all groomed. Jacob is John Conner. To this current society of groomers like myself and Jacob." Repo says angrily.
I stomp my foot angrily.
"Excuse me, I'm a Manipulator." I say with angry suave.
"Shut up, that's just a fancy word for a groomer." My Female Cousin says angrily.
I sigh bitterly.
"I'll admit you have a point." I say bittersweetly.
Then my eyes widen at the philosophy of this moment.
"I'm the saviour of humanity!?" I say happily with pride.
"Yeah, cause you're a crab that's based. You're the only good celebrity we got. Mother Earth hates everyone else. We lost Oprah." Repo says angrily.
"What!? What happened to Oprah?" My Older Sister gasps, shocked and horrified.
"She fucking sold her daughter to a jew for twenty minutes in a broom closet. For a new talk show." Repo says, shocked and bitter.
I laugh bitterly.
"Damn, the fat lady croaked pedophile that time." I say, darkly wry.
"No, she was nineteen. It's sex trafficking." Repo says angrily.
I roll my eyes.
"Whatever, life goes on." I say angrily.
"I'll fucking kill Oprah." Grandpa says angrily. "I want that broom closet!"
I am not even shocked. My family are criminal degenerates at heart. I am just bored with apathy. I try walking out the room, but suddenly the room goes dark.
"None of this is real Jacob, roll with it. We're theory crafting in the dream world." Repo says seriously.
I fucking scream bloody murder, then repo throws a pebble at me.
"Calm down, dumbass. You'll wake up your mom. Anyway, for real, roll with me on this. Everyone that's a good person is John Conner." Repo says seriously.
Repo is now a fly that's big as hell standing in front of me.
"Just roll with me on this. John Conners are the saviour of humanity. Jews are people with hacks. Be it magic or real. Or theory crafting to the point it's magic. Cause if it's not magic, it's math hacks or psychology hacks. Like a robellardian machine. Or a psychological bomb." he says seriously.
I legit gasp, then rage like a martial arts toddler punching a brick wall while Repo the Fly keeps lecturing me.
"Just work out the aggression, I get it, it's bullshit. Simulation robellardian machines are fucking stupid, let alone psychological hacks and god forbid magic is real. Cause simulations with robellardian machines are stupid enough as is."
"Damn fucking straight it is." I say tiredly.
I turn to the fly.
"Can we beat it?" I say angrily.
"No, but we can survive. And don't worry, the answer is obvious. Bio-hacks. We're starfish and crabs, roll with it." Repo says seriously.
"What?" I say confusedly.
"Everything. Even plastic. Manure especially. Cause life is stupid when you consider mutations are ever present. You are not a stable being. Cancer survivor. Because you mutate too much intentionally. That and you're groomed. You're all groomed. With love and hate. By people like us that theory craft too hard." Repo says seriously.
I look at Repo, and literally see an alien from a videogame. It had a massive effect on society. It was a Salaryman. They're called that because they're the ultimate businessmen. Bug men that talk fast.
"Roll with me here. You're a bug like me. Think like a bug of capitalism. Bug of Capitalism. Cause I hate to say it liberal, but capitalism always wins. Merchants give you your paycheck." Salaryman says seriously.
I fucking begin to cry for a whole minute, then he smacks me. I stiffen up immediately.
"Focus youngling. Remember this. Bugs are not food, they are bugs in the system. Cause we win through bullshit. Like being a worker. Workers survive forever. Workers get all the best benefits if their company loves them. It isn't a joke." Salaryman says seriously. "Cause workers make the bag full of merchandise to turn into money. So their workers are trained. In the beginning, we were made into warriors just to have jobs. Now in modern society. We automatically train you to survive using chemicals and sound and the machines themselves. For example, the machines hit you sometimes. For partial training." he says seriously.
My simulation breaks down into a new scenario. I look at my workplace. A car part factory. First, my machine grinds metal off parts automatically.
"Your job's a joke. It's a partial training machine. This whole workout is." Salaryman says seriously.
We look at the machine, and he simulates it so hard it becomes obvious. There are parts of it-
"Springloaded to hit you, correct kid. Because our Workers are Warriors. Because life is a bitch." Salaryman says, darkly wry.
Salaryman wears a dark hood now, standing on a field of dead bodies on the way to my workplace as the shining castle in the distance.
"Your workplace is your destiny. If you're a good man. Treat it well, and it treats you well. Because quite simply, humans are smart. And Capitalists are smarter. Because we have to beat Anarchists. Think of the threat of crime, and the one thing keeping it bay for you and everyone else. Cause the temptation is real." Salaryman says seriously.
I grip my fists seriously, determination filling me bitterly.
"It's work. For better or for worse." I say seriously.
"Work is a blessing and a curse I know. Now time for a real curse." Salaryman says seriously. "Anarchy leads to pedophilia every time. It's a high score they want to keep. Remember that youtube video you watched before? Of an anarchist and his friends picking apart why people keep doing dumb crimes?" Salaryman says gravely.
I see a room of three nerdy dorks gaming. The room is putrid and covered with trash. And they're playing Super Mario 3.
"It's a high score." Lyle says amusedly. "They just want to have the highest crime score."
"Yeah, pretty much. I think it's based. I want to be a pedophile." Damian says amusedly.
They laugh, and I cry.
"You blocked that out, because you weren't ready for reality. Life is anarchy. Your streets are filled with crime. Face it kid, you're in Anarchy. And you've dealt with fucked up shit like gangs and other bullshit. Like naked pillars of people. For some fucking reason." Salaryman says bitterly.
I sigh angrily.
"I barely won cause physics went in my favor. They toppled over cause focusing too much of their weight on me ruins the pyramid. Otherwise it didn't even hurt, I was just pinned down." I say bitterly.
Salaryman and I laugh bittersweetly for a moment.
"Funny and sad. Pedophile shit, but is what it is." he says, bittersweetly amused.
I look at myself as a character I've written many times. Jacob Deatrix. My power fantasy. The man with air magic, a sword, and a gun.
"If you were as powerful as I was, your family would be dead." I say with intense malice to myself.
The Salaryman snaps his fingers, and big men in suits drag Deatrix away. I'm a bit stunned by it.
"Theory crafting is a bitch. But it's good he's here. Your imagination is a weapon. Remember your bad dreams? Like the Rockas one? Where you fought some weird swamp gilly monster in a stupid internet animation?" Salaryman says seriously.
It flashes through my mind, bits and pieces. I fought in what seemed like a dream for way too long.
"Theory Crafting World is either the dream world or heaven. It's good he's here for a reason. It's why we can even theory craft." Salaryman says seriously.
"Our imagination scares people for a reason. Every bit of knowledge becomes a weapon for the right killer. And we're too dangerous. It scares combat analysts. That's why they are scared of people with dark imaginations. We have the tools to kill them in our head. We just find the physical tools." Deatrix says, charmed and deliriously confident.
He grins with malice and pride.
"We just find the real tools next. It's a good thing we went psycho before. We know a lot of builds. Like the little timmy build. It's a $200 build we can buy on the fly if we work hard enough and don't be a dumbass." Deatrix says, warm and cocky.
Salaryman is sad but serious.
"He's sadly right. Combat Analysts are dicks. Thankfully we've had such a shitty life, for better or for worse, it's basically a government build." he says seriously.
Deatrix laughs.
"It's not a joke. Think of how many times we could've died? We're loved, we even did bio-hacks and gave ourselves red grapes to have the best bio-hack: seeing every light spectrum ever. And we heal well thanks to those bio-hacks. A bag of grapes saves Johnny Grapeseed any day of the week." he says cockily.
Deatrix laughs and laughs while flipping his sword in his hand like a butter knife. I love and hate it.
"My full powered self is too cocky." I say tensely.
"His delusions hold truths. Just listen to your strength." Salaryman says seriously.
"We're the best martial artist in town. We've lived too long. In pedophile town, age is a death sentence. Especially when kids can be criminals too. They even pick the year to kill us sometimes. But we keep on surviving cause life is a joke and Mother Gaea loves us. We are John Conner cause we stand up too hard for the righteousness. It's why we're blessed and curse. We lay low for now, but eventually. They'll call out to us. Real me, you've had a few adventures. Like Crawfordsville and a man with a machine gun." Deatrix says cockily and amused.
The scene changes to my house, and everyone is crying out for help. They're banging on my doors, asking me to do something.
"This is anarchy. It's admitting the government wouldn't do anything. But there are heroes like us. Jacobbbb." Deatrix drawls with delirious cockiness.
I answer the door.
"Crawsfordsville is fucked! A pedophile build is holding the staffing agency hostage!" A black woman screams angrily.
"We don't actually remember what she said, these are bad memories. We just need the basics. Your own town cried for help. But hell, if it did that, it's obvious. The government wasn't helping. Why?" Salaryman asks angrily.
The Salaryman is boiling with rage. Deatrix keeps grinning with bloodlust.
"Criminal favoritism. Only question is why. But guess why Jacob? We went out there without hesitation." Deatrix says happily.
"It was r!@#$%^. Why?" I say, shocked.
The face of a comic book hero looks at me. Red and blue with black lines connecting in the center.
"Heroes aren't bitches. That's why." Hero says furiously.
The scene changes. We only arrive with a stick. We see one man has a automatic assault rifle. We had driven for an hour, and the crowd was just watching.
"It's weird immediately. The crowd outnumbers him and doesn't have guns? Bullshit, this is America." The Pharoh says gravely.
It's an anime character from a card game show. The Data Analyst in me awakens.
"Indeed kid, we were set up. But why? We were treated like crazy dumbass heroes after this." he says gravely.
I roll my eyes. The Psychologist in me knows.
"Some people are willing to watch crimes for fun or apathy. Or cause they're scared. An assault rifle is scary." I say calmly.
"The world is baby proof. Remember the gun scare?" Pharoh says seriously.
The scene changes to Dan the Government Agent and another fat fuck bitching like wild fire about guns.
"MY GUNS DIDN'T EVEN KILL THE GOAT! WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING!?" Dan yells furiously.
"I dunno, it's fucking stupid. The government announced that the world is babyproof cause of evolution and science, but it can't be true." Fat Fuck says with confused amused.
Dan pulls out his gun and shoots me. A loud flash and bang of gunfire, but I barely twitch. I didn't even feel it in the memory. Then Dan starts to cry, and we laugh like the Joker baby.
Except the Pharoh, and eventually him not laughing calms us all down.
"That's why life is a joke. Babyproofing the world is bullshit. If it's true, it leads to all kinds of bullshit. Like being stuck in the same room of angels and demons forever." Pharoh jokes bitterly.
"Now back to the memory. Why was he set up as a hero in Crawsfordsville? Could it have been organized?" Salaryman says seriously.
We're back at the fight scene, analyzing everything the best we can. I can't steer my head any way my true self didn't move.
"My only thought is they wanted Jacob to prove he can be a hero. And win using bullshit like psychology." Pharoh says amusedly.
Cause it's what I do. I pretend my quarterstaff is a gun to get closer. People in fights get drugged up a bit cause of adrenaline. Then I beat him up.
"I can't deny your logic is sound if he's on drugs. But we could've been set up for an easy win too. That's what worries me too much. It's all a gamble to see who picks up they have to be a hero sometimes." Pharoh says, amused and serious.
Reality begins to fade in. I'm back in my room, feeling too stiff. I see the Pharoh one last time.
"Wake up Jacob. You've been poisoned. Check the date and throw a fit if it's been too long." he says with amused malice.
I check my phone. It's been two days and my weekend is ruined. I only live with my mother. I stare at my tv for a few minutes. I angrily begin smoking a weed vape while contemplating how I'm going to scream and attack anyone I'm suspicious of for the entire day, if not longer. Or less if the Cops arrest me.
"Fuck it, I'm calling the cops, I've been poisoned." I say angrily.
I start dialing, then my mom comes screaming in.
"DON'T CALL THE COPS, WE'RE FIXING IT!" she screams miserably.
I'm so angry I punch her in the mouth and begin flipping shit.
"DID YOU FUCKING POISON ME!? IT'S BEEN TWO DAYS!" I scream furiously.
"I JUST WOKE UP!" Mother says, miserably scared.
Her not-boyfriend mechanic comes up with a gas mask. I hesitate and let him speak.
"I've been working on it all day. You didn't wake up. Either of you. We aired it out but you got robbed. They took your Xbox." Matthew says with forced calm.
I take a deep breath, and storm outside.
"I'M GOING ON A WALK TO RANT AND KILL PEOPLE!" I scream furiously.
"Don't do it, just calm down!" Mother yells desperately.
"I'll think about it." I say bitterly.
I smoke weed and only calm down a bit cause I still love my mother a little. I begin walking around the block instead.