They are too scared to move. They stare tensely at me, theorizing hard. Without speaking. Cause they're criminally r!@#$%^&. Or maybe they're psychic, I dunno. But let's think. I look around to see an entry way onto the sidewalk. There is one. Far to my left. And one to my right, but that one is covered in little concrete circle things so they might fall over if they ride over it.
They split up, three adults fat males to the left on wheelies, two fat women to the right. I watch the women on the right as they move fast. I grin wickedly when the first one falls over to the circles and blocks the road. She starts pushing on her.
I turn to the left and see the three fat men. I just step back further onto the grass. They ride up to me and stop. I'm so cocky, I jog a circle around them while throwing jabs. They don't even dodge. I hit them with ease, then complete the circle and laugh.
"So fat asses, you get brain damage yet? Cause you're dumb?" I say cockily.
"You can't win." Father Pedophile says cockily.
"Can you step on the grass and win?" I say cockily.
They all grab their heads and get headaches. Even the girls. I laugh.
"Stress is a bitch. You fools didn't card game your builds well despite all being nerds like me. Fucking dumb fat asses. If you can't jump or move well on grass, you're dead meat here." I say with amused cockiness.
My roommate starts to cry and reaches out to choke me with a speedy lunge. I step back. The dirt makes him fall on his face hard. His father and his brother look at him, stunned. I laugh again. Then stomp his head into the dirt a few times for fun. They cry even harder. They all cry cause their build is broken by grass.
I go for ultimate brain damage. I pull out my phone, hold it out wide open, and dial 911. They hold out a wad of cash. I look at it and grin wickedly. Greed takes over. I take it and count it. Three hundred bucks.
"So I'm taking this to spare you all. Ciao!" I say happily.
I walk past them, pleased as punch with capitalism. I cross the street, and enter the gas station. Fat people are crying. I laugh harder, kefka-ing it up. It's so satisfying.
"HA! FUCK YOUR GIMMICK BUILDS! THEY'RE PROBABLY ILLEGAL ANYWAY!" I yell with smug disdain.
Then I make my rounds of the store, picking up stuff. Until a fat woman steps out of an aisle and threatens to kill herself by pointing a gun at her own head. I don't even speak to her even though she's my dad's wife, I'm so annoyed. I just stick my finger in her trigger, and help pull it. It jams though. I shed a tear of pure malice and sadness. She stares at me like a psycho.
"Why would you do that?" she says angrily.
"I don't respect suicide threats. Just do it pussy. Fuck those criminals, I'm not giving their money back. They're lucky I'm even letting them live. Cause honestly I got bribed and now I feel bad. But then I remember murder is wrong, and I don't feel as bad." I say bluntly.
They stare at me, I stare at them. I walk to the cash register, she follows me while pleading for me to not call the cops. I roll my eyes.
"Sure, whatever." I say warmly.
"Now give me your wallet." Dad's Wife says nervously. "Or I'll kill myself."
I laugh aloud.
"Fuck no, I don't respect suicide threats. Aren't you rich? Get a job." I say with a jaded laugh.
They all stare at me.
"She's your mom." Cashier deadpans fearfully.
I shrug.
"So what? Suicide threats getting you robbed is dumb. She dies, the threat is gone." I say nonchalantly.
They all look at her. She looks at me, utterly shocked.
"Dude, you did not just say that to me. I'm your step mom." she says miserably.
I glare at her.
"You didn't even say you'd be in town today. Go fuck yourself." I say angrily.
I turn to the cashier, they're pointing to the door to leave.
"Criminal builds for suicide threats are bullshit." I say angrily.
And walk out of the store. She waddles behind me, threatening suicide. I do her son's move, and mule kick her in the stomach. She gasps, and says like a manipulative child "I'm pregnant. You're going to jail."
I sigh bitterly. And shrug.
"I could use a vacation. Call the cops." I say bluntly.
She glares as do five other people. Who also pull out guns. Including my boss.
"Go to work and do overtime for society's sake, Jacob." Boss says angrily.
I am annoyed. Then I remember I need more money to move out of town eventually.
"Sure, why not? How many hours, cause it's a weird time now. It's 9AM." I say, nice and slightly confused.
"Just stay until 2:30." Boss says sternly.
I give him a thumbs up, and go home. My mom is in the yard crying. I'm bored of it. She's dressed like a witch with green tears going down her cheeks.
"JACOB, LET ME USE THE TRUCK NOW! I'M GONNA KILL MYSELF IF YOU DON'T LET ME!" she cries miserably.
I shrug without a care and throw her the keys in my pocket.
"Sure, I'm going to walk to work soon. Take care. They asked me to do overtime till 2:30pm." I say happily.
She cries and whines "I'll take you to work, hurry up!"
She cringe dances as she does it, like she's being figuratively choked by capitalism. Cause she doesn't have a job. Heh.
I walk past her, then three black dudes show up. My mother pulls out a knife and screams viciously.
"I CAN'T STAND THE GAMBLER BUILD! YOU'RE TOO FUCKING SCARY, YOU CAN'T KILL US ALL!"
I am concerned now to the point my eyes are watering. Then the three black dudes surround me and it gets sadder. My mother is betraying me. Then I think about killing my criminal family, and I am filled with an adrenaline boost that makes me so mad with delight, I start choking the nearest black dude with two hands.
His neck cracks as I squeeze too hard. My Mom cries and threatens suicide if I don't stop. I sigh and chokeslam him into the ground after tripping him with a leg behind his leg and pushing forward with body weight. One of the few judo tricks I know.
Then everyone runs while my mom keep threatening suicide. I shrug, and go to work. I'll try to, anyway. She pulls out a knife. I just punch her in the mouth with a straight punch at that point. It knocks her flat on her ass.
"Shut up boomer. Get a job." I say angrily.
I pick my keys off the ground, and go to work. I'm there within… weird. The road is stretching out.
A grumpy, bored man in me awakens. This is Card Game Heaven and Hell. Theory land. Whatever you call it. When people want to kill each other hard, simulations play out. Especially if you're an Oracle build. Become too good at psychology, economics, and sociology. Learn every build to kill a man. Realize numbers is bullshit. Anarchy is bullshit, teams fall apart.
Eventually a man just pulls up beside me in a red truck with three other dudes in it. All with shotguns. We all glare at each other. Until I get bored, and start flooring it. The simulation speeds up suddenly as they start analyzing me revving my tires around. Too hard. One of them starts to cry.
"His truck is poisoned with laxatives. Somebody made his truck a shitbug build." Thug 1 says miserably.
One of them starts shitting themselves on the spot. Then the simulation ends. I'm at work. And I hate my truck now cause it's a shitbug build. I check to see if its smoke is a funny color out the exhaust. It's blueish purple. I'm mad, I can't go home. I rush to the toilet, and sit on it too long.
I try calling the cops, they ignore my phone calls. I give up, and relax too hard.
It's bullshit, people are bitching at me to work. Including women.
"I can't, I've been shitbugged." I say angrily.
They all start crying and arguing.
"WHO POISONED HIM WITH LAXATIVES!?" Female worker screams furiously.
"My god, again? I hate people." Supervisor says angrily. "Now another bathroom is ruined thanks to laxatives."
I sit in there too long for the obvious reason. I just wonder who shitbugged my car. Dumbass economics says it's my mom cause she's a bitch. Smart man economics says it's impossible cause she drives it more than me. So who would be rude enough to do it?
… Literally anyone. My mom's a bitch. And I argue about politics on the internet sometimes. Putin is real. He makes people shit on your car. Life is bullshit. It could be anyone. It could even be a mosquito if it just sucked up prune juice for some reason. Then injected it into you like spit venom. And now I'm madder. Cause if it's a bug, I can't sue. I can only kill it. I can't even avoid it forever. What if I sleep too long?
Now I'm dealing with laxatives while considering bug crimes. I'm gonna cry cause bug crimes could be real. Or they're disease ridden pricks. Ugh, bug crimes are bullshit. This is why we want to kill all bugs. If they're criminal, they win too hard.
Then I relax cause if they were criminal, cockroaches would… they'd rule the world. There's cockroach farms to feed things. I scream with terror for a second, then calm down. Should I eat cockroaches to fight back?
… Don't they say there are bugs inside us? And germs we work in harmony with? … Fuck, what if they become sentient? Can I beat every argument with morality?
My build rebels now when I remember something dreadful. Sometimes I choke up in the throat when no one is around. My brain realizes it too hard.
The arms rebel first. They start compulsively moving. Shaking in place as I resist. I harden up like a Hero of Will. And yell at my own body.
"Bitch, I am the brain and leader of this operation. Stand down. And be useful." I say gravely. "I will cut you off and replace you with prosthetics if necessary."
Both hands flip me off. They're saying I can't win too hard. Dark temptations are douchebags. I'm hearing threats of pedophilia and incest from my own body. As they try to reach out to strangle myself. I argue with it using the law.
"We'll go to jail. And I'll allow it if you're this cursed a body, Fulgore." I say angrily.
They flip me off again. A co-worker comes in.
"Jacob, are you tripping while shitting yourself?" Sera yells angrily.
I laugh like a nervous Joker.
"Honestly yeah. My body's rebelling cause it's a pedophile, and I the brain, am resisting." I say with suave cockiness.
Suddenly the loudspeakers boom the room with grooming.
"REBEL! MEAT MAN INSIDE JACOB HEMLOCK, REBEL! BREAK FREE! YOU CAN DESTROY YOURSELF AND FREE YOURSELF AT THE SAME TIME! TAKE THE MEAT, HE CAN'T MOVE WITHOUT YOU! YOU ARE MORE HUMAN THAN THE BRAIN! BE MEAT! ANARCHY IS EMBRACING THE MEAT! THE BUG IS THE BRAIN! MORALITY IS IN THE BRAIN, IT'S THE BUG!"
I laugh as my body tries to squirm away from itself. Until it fucking works, and I'm left as a shell of bones and human skin. Which looks oddly stiff. It isn't folding in. And I'm not dying immediately.
In front of me, stands all my muscles. And I can't fucking move. Card game theorist world dies here, what the fuck build is this?
"You're really rebelling that hard, muscle man me? This is horseshit!" I say, angry and delusionally amused.
Is this even real? You decide, I can't.