It begins with realizing the meat sucks dick at fighting. It punches my remains, and it barely hurts.
"You suck dick, meat man. Punch harder." I say angrily.
I struggle to stand up. I feel things growing inside me. It sprays acidic blood on me. That kickstarts things to the point it cries "RAPE!" Cause it fuels me. My body seals itself shut and I manage to stand up. And it just grapples me. Our flesh intermingles, and then the vision trick for demons happens.
It turns black with red eyes.
"I want pedophilia." Meatman says angrily. "You're the brain. Let me do it."
I roll my eyes. It hurts cause I'm grinding my eyes against my skull cause Meatman here can't grease the wheel cause he's a dick.
"I'm the Commander. We aren't sinners. It ruins society. Think of the legal system. The Cops will kill us." I say with stern anger. "Capitalism and society beats us. And I beat you."
"The Flesh Craves Anarchy. All sins must be available for anarchy to reign. We need every build, even pedophilia. Pedophilia gives us sulfuric acid." Meatman says with serious bloodlust.
I glare intensely.
"Your build? Are you saying sins give benefits? And what, is that baby cum? Why not use grown cum?" I say angrily.
"Shut up, you're the morality bug. This is why I'm taking over." Meatman says angrily.
We just start beating each other. It's easy to overwhelm it, until it isn't. Chunks of my meat fly off it, and I'm concerned. It's my muscles. I might need it to work. Or to survive. It was originally me.
We glare at each other, our hands around each other's throats. Until I sigh amusedly, not blowing out air.
"My auto-breathing is off. I don't need air." I say cockily.
"Neither do I. They've been off longer than you think." Meatman says angrily.
We let go of our throats, and I knife hand my right palm into his throat. Trying to pierce through its throat. I dig in a bit dip. Then the strands of my throat welcome me in. And launch at my face.
"I will take the brain by force. You are our shitty supercomputer, brain. We need you for battles and math." Meatman says angrily.
I just glare.
"It's a battle of wills. How should we settle this? Words? Or just vibing it out until I win?" I say with bored anger.
We vibe out too hard! A surge of red, black, and green energy hits my eyes! And when they fade, I am a character of my imagination, facing a villain of pure instinct.
We sit at a chessboard between myself and an Anarchist Card Gamer. A villain known as the Emperor of Noir. A story I consider writing.
The chessboard holds pieces of my soul, character archetypes key to me. And his as well. He plays chess, with typical roles and pawns shaped like mushrooms. My board is three people, with guns and swords. We play in different worlds. He's a manipulator with soldiers. I'm the Warrior with three personas of death to deal with.
"So you aren't alone then? Will someone interrupt us in this game?" I say cockily.
"Every win for me is a loss for you. You lose to true free will. We remove discipline, baby." Anarchy says hornily.
I punch him in the face, and try to stand. But arms force me back down in my seat. I look behind me, and it's criminals I see too regularly in town. A car thief at work, and a thug of the streets. I struggle as the Manipulator pulls out a gun. I sigh angrily. The shot is fired. And…
I awakened from a bad dream. A very bad dream that didn't seem to be real. Until I stand, and find I'm in my bedroom. With bloody knuckles. And I check a mirror. A broken nose with some stitches. Confusing. It's a cut. I don't remember getting cut with a knife in any of that dream.
Clearly, that was a nightmare. Life has gone wild. Let's process my last memory. I came home. I talked to my roommate after that stand off and taunted him. Then he threw a knife in my face. And I'm here now… Alive…
Hmm… I must've healed. I grab my phone and check the date. It's been a month. I've been in a coma in my own house. I check my phone to see if I've paid a bill. Nothing like that. Intriguing. I call my mother. And she screams with terror.
"PLEASE DON'T ARREST ME! I WASN'T INVOLVED!"
"Mom, chill, it's me for real. I'm alive. Did I ever visit the hospital?" I say nervously.
"NO! GO AWAY, DEMON!" she screams terrified.
And hangs up the phone. I look around, delusionally amused. I healed from an unknown knife wound. Over too much time. Bullshit. But still based. Delusion land immediately lands on the comic book power, Regeneration. Which makes too much sense. My life is fucking insane, sad, violent, and fucking r!@#$%^&.
I decide to live out life to find out if anything in the last few days happened. Suspiciously, everything was too normal. But normal dumb shit happened. Based on my life as a Martial Arts Celebrity. It was funny and based until it wasn't funny. Then it was just based.
First, I flirted with a hot chick. Then a guy got mad at me. He said he looked me up.
"Does that include my combat history?" I ask cockily.
"Why do you ask?" Tall Douche says angrily.
"Because I want to know if it's real." I say honestly.
He smirks.
"Thanks for the tip, psycho. Assault is a crime." Tall Douche says cockily.
"Yeah, well video evidence isn't legal in Illinois." I argue cockily.
He glares at me, I smile back like a loon.
Then an hour of work passes. He comes back with a nosebleed. And he looks traumatized.
"You aren't real. There's no way you beat up Derek Bates." Tall Douche says angrily.
I stare confusedly.
"Who is that?" I ask.
"A famous wrestler. And my dad. Not real." Tall Douche says angrily.
"Look, what if we just fought instead of debate if I beat a guy I've never heard of? I don't pay attention to combat sports." I say angrily.
We walk outside after glaring at each other for a tense moment. He hits me in the back as we reach a hallway. I bend forward, and do a mule kick into his knee. It's a backwards kick, similar to a horse's back leg kick. Or a mule's.
Anyway, it makes him stumble. I spin around with a back fist into the wall. And follow with an elbow into his kidney.
"Alright, I'm good. You win, Jacob." Tall Douche says nervously.
I walk back into work angrily. Work and work. Again and again. Remembering the past. And arguing with my ex-workwife. Sera. Fucking bitch. Hoe builds are annoying. She fucks around too hard as a former HR hoe. Fucking bitch.
"Jacob, you should be in jail." Sera says angrily.
"I don't care, we have anarchy in the workplace. I've been beat up at work, and plenty of people went back to work." I say angrily.
"So? Quit your job." Sera says angrily.
I look at her as if she's a mirror that is based. So based it makes me sad. And I cry to myself.
"Why not?" I say miserably.
I walk away as Sera tells me to go fuck myself in the distance. Then it happens a few minutes later in HR.
"Jacob, please don't quit your job. You're the best worker we have." HR Woman says desperately.
"Huh?" I say confusedly.
"Nobody works. We need those camshafts. Go look for yourself." HR Woman says seriously.
She tells me where our stock of parts are. I go and look. We're supposed to have this thing called Safety Stock. And I laugh hysterically as I check tags.
"They're almost all my fucking parts! This is hysterical! I'm talking shit if they ever say shit to me again!" I yell hysterically.
A bitch I hate checks the tags and begins to cry.
"We succckkkkk! Why are you all like this? Jacob always finds a way to shit on us in his head!" Bitch says miserably.
I ride a high for a long time. Too long. It just gets sad and hilarious how many times they had to admit they suck. And then life went on.
Until I got bored because of videogame land again. Because I get in an argument with a Trump kid. About toxic masculinity.
"You never beat Andrew Taint." Trump kid says cockily.
"Yeah, I did. It was easy." I say cockily. "He does liposuction."
"Huh? What do you mean?" Trump kid says confusedly.
"So like, liposuction takes too much fat. Without fat on your body, you're more sensitive to pain. A nipple twist was enough to knock him out." I say with sadistic amusement.
"GO FUCK YOURSELF! I'M TELLING MY DAD TO SEND A PROUD BOY TO YOUR HOUSE!" Trump Kid yells angrily.
I just quit the game. It doesn't happen. Instead, something dumber happens.
They show up when I go to vote for Kamala Harris. Cause they're calculating dicks. I try to walk past, but Government Agent Dan shoves me back.
"Go fuck yourself Hemlock, you ain't voting this year. Fuck you, you're a terrorist and a f!@#$%." he says angrily.