Yeah, so I'm at the start of a shift. Malding about New Fantasy 10 and how weird it is with the AI bots. When I get shot by some guy from high school. I don't die. Simulation Hell goes off. It's daytime. 7AM.
My shirt is drenched in fruit juice. Or blood. Cause honestly, I've dealt with cannibals. Unrelated story I will explain quickly.
A man once tried to kill me cause he knew I smoked weed long enough that my blood should taste like fruit punch. And he's right, it does. It's r@#$%^&.
Anyway, my Supervisor finds me still on the sidewalk outside my workplace where I was shot. With some other co-workers. They've sewed my chest up, and there's five stitches. For a small cut. Strange.
"Jacob, you went into epileptic shock or some shit. But you're fine right?" Supervisor says nervously.
"Yeah, I guess. Can I go home and rest?" I say calmly.
"No, you gotta work." Government Dan says sternly.
I sigh and get to work. My chest is tight but otherwise I feel fine. Dan was right, it's just a flesh wound. It hit a rib bone as he said. It just hurts when I turn left and right cause there's a gap in the muscle tissue. I stuffed lunch meat and fruit in the hole so I'd heal naturally. They think I'm fucking insane. And made me clean it out. Except then it was weird.
My hole was filled with amino acids cause it melted. It was acid. They just slapped tape over it to close the wound cause it was weird stuff. And then by tomorrow my chest was fine. To an extent. The wound was filled a bit, and it was meat. And wood. Weird.
My company nurse checked the hole. And was shocked. He popped out the chunk of pus. Which was a sickly yellow amber stone with a moth in it. He just silently gave it to me. And I put it back inside. Which then it got worse.
A bunch of moths flew out my stomach after pushing the stone back out. It was so annoying. I had to get stomach pumped because of the bugs in me. Which didn't even work.
"Your belly is a bug bomb. Please die." Doctor Burns says angrily.
Doctor Burns pulls out a gun and shoots me. I wake up in my bed three days earlier.
"Fuckkkkk. Simulation land." I say annoyedly.
I work three days as normal. I skip the fourth day of work when I die. This works well for three months and two days.
On this day, the pattern to get me killed is set off again. It begins with an argument I have at work because of a rude out of the closet.moment. Where they forced me out the closet at work. In a ingenious and sinister way.
So there are fake gay and lesbian people meant to out people from the closet. And I got outed by one at work. Except it didn't matter. I was already comfortable enough to admit it before. I didn't care until it got serious.
Abuse at the workplace that was allowed. For twenty minutes of anarchy, as per usual. I won too hard. Throat and dick punches. For five minutes. Until a supervisor settled it with a gun. It was too uneventful.
We never saw the fake lesbian again. As far as I know anyway. She doesn't work in my area anyway.
It doesn't help it backfired on her. Cause I kept calling her a lesbian for living with her sister. And she looked like a butch lesbian. Some of them were in on it and knew they weren't a lesbian.
Which then became a church conspiracy. Which escalated to me yelling at a Preacher. I stomped over to the church by my house again. And coincidentally caught a Preacher in the parking lot.
"Why are people faking being lesbian to out people from the closet!? Get a job, you fucking r@#$%^@!" I snap angrily.
He is very bewildered, but pulls out a taser gun. And tases me. I am stunned and paralyzed for a bit while he goes inside the Church. And locks the door. Then my co-worker Father Sternage shows up to lecture me while I'm paralyzed, standing up.
"Why do you always get so mad at us?" he asks tiredly.
I look at him with a sharp turn. It hurts my neck to turn due to being tazed.
"It's because you are the villains. And I have nothing better to do." I say angrily.
"You're mentally insane." Father Sternage says sadly.
"Why does the workplace get to abuse me because of my insanity then?" I say angrily.
"We're trying to beat sense into you. We know it doesn't work, we can't help it. We're apes." Father Sternage says sadly.
He just walks away. I would hit him but it hurts too much to move. Being tased sucks dick.
I eventually get home and rest. Then it's just sad as fuck at work. Cause their Priests got yelled at again because of the savages at work. Some of them even claimed they're atheist to avoid guilt. It didn't work. They still got lectured. We all did.
I was told to quit blaming God for humanity's sins by an older woman at work.
"What should I do then? Just beat them like they beat me? Surrender my identity to weaklings?" I say angrily.
"Why do you act so macho?" Older Woman says annoyedly.
"Because honestly life as a man is all machismo. We act tough or get stomped all over." I say, sad and bitter.
"Is that it?" Older Woman asks, concerned.
I sigh guiltily.
"Intimidation works well. It can downplay fights from happening." I say hesitantly.
This started in silence. And escalated into another bullshit conversation with Father Sternage.
"You intimidate people so they leave you alone?" Father Sternage says sternly.
I roll my eyes, and glare.
"Yeah, what about it? My reason is it helps avoid fights." I say annoyedly.
"And causes them." Father Sternage says sternly.
"It's both honestly. But it shows who's pussy and who ain't." I concede hesitantly.
Silence for a moment.
"Does it ever work?" Older Woman says annoyedly.
"Eh. Kind of. You'd be surprised. A spook is enough to calm a man's nerves. Especially if it's a gun." I say calmly.
Then I smirk at Father Sternage with that last line.
"Hindsight made me think a bit, Father Sternage. Because of what happened with that gun you had earlier." I say annoyedly.
Earlier that day he pulled a scanner out on me while we were arguing about personal space cause he was going too hard about owning a gauge and making me stay away from it. To the point he said this:
"I'm getting a new measuring machine so you don't come near me." Father Sternage said angrily.
They did it within half a year. Irrelevant always honestly, it's just funny that they took forever. But it did show up. Cause the Church paid for it. It is a gift to create peace through division. Cause they're dividing the workplace up so we talk less. Cause they think drama happens if people talk too much. Which is true, drama can't happen if we don't talk to each other.
A lot of drama happens over words and methods honestly. Or in my case, being the Prostitute's Son. I'm not even allowed to win bro, people play the incest card for fun cause if their relative fucked my mom, they claim
Intimidation is bullshit though, if I'm allowed to get back on topic. It can scout out the room to an extent. If you play your cards too hard. Silence is the answer you're a weirdo that's accepted. For now. Too much action, someone hates you.
You want to know the ways you play your cards? They ain't even real cards. Act weird. Or better yet, flirt with someone that's hot. See how long it takes until you're fucked with. It'll take a day before arguments start off if you're too controversial.
It's called blackmail kids, and they do it over you just talking over the wrong person so the conversation never happens again. I hate it, it's always cause my mom fucked
Literally. Some of them owe me money if I'm an official relative. It's that r@#$%^&. They criminally hate the prostitute's son cause the prostitute and her son are owed money cause of the many, many daddies we have. Or lawsuits. Cause abuse happens while they're drunk too.
Guess who got his leg ran over by a drunk step dad when they were five? This guy! His son beat me up so his dad wouldn't go bankrupt. It didn't work, my mom took the money, and blew it in a week. Only I took beatings.
Life's a fucking joke when you're a woman, they beat up your kids instead of you. Dude, beat that hoe's ass instead. Quit fighting me, you're all why I want to kill people. Give me my money, don't give me the money. I don't care, I WORK! I don't need the money, I get the next paycheck and roll on.
I'm a simple man, I'm good with cheap videogames and weed. My quality of life is Godly compared to the literal kings that once lived in medieval eras. You people can't appreciate it. But you get women cause you aren't the Prostitute's Son/Daughter. It's horseshit.
And still you're mad some of you owe me money if we're related? So instead this shit sometimes only comes out if I date your sister. Then the family gets boomed cause it turns out my mom fucked
Nobody is even willing to do a DNA test. They're a joke. They just melt together in the pot. Your DNA samples, all of them, they just melt and do phone calls.
Nobody claims me officially except for a few. And it's unofficial still, doesn't count for paperwork. It's horseshit, I'm the Prostitute's Son of the Ultimate Loophole of Anti-Sex: I am related to everyone and no one in my home town and any town my mother lived too long in.
So I got bored during a smoke break one of these days at work, thinking about it. And asked that Father Sternage "Hey, did you fuck my mom?"
He walked out the room red faced. Him walking out without speaking was a lie of omission, so people guilt tripped him about it.
I got bored enough to do it to anyone in their 40s. Cause otherwise, they were a minor when my mom fucked them. Which is pedophilia, which is funny! Cause now my mom might be a pedophile if any of those men claim me as their father again.
Which was sad, she almost went to the People's Court of Public Opinion if they didn't censor it. And by that, I mean BEATINGS FOR EVERYONE! INCLUDING ME! Cause I wasn't the only one going around, asking "Who fucked my mom and could be my dad?"
Cause their reactions were hysterical. Three men killed themselves that day, one of them on me!
"Hey, my mom is Fanny Cracks, did you fuck her?" I say like a wicked jester.
He looks at me, and points a gun at his head.
"I can't afford it. Don't claim me as your dad. I'm broke." He says miserably.
"But if you aren't my father, then I can't give you my money. I'm a rich millionaire cause I cured cancer." I lie happily.
He hugs me and says he loves me. I push him away.
"Psyche! I make 17 dollars an hour!" I say happily.
He kills himself, it's hysterical.
Father Sternage tried to guilt trip me, I just kept saying "You could be my dad!" And he just walked off eventually. And moped in the corner. As he called my mom to verify if he fucked her or not. She was claiming he did, he has no memory of him doing it. It's hysterical and sad.
Because hoe economics came up during the guilt trips. It was stupid, cause a real scientist pulled up to explain why I could have oddly unique traits and talents that should be signs I'm related to a man.
"How many times did you fuck his mom?" Scientist says seriously.
"I dunno, a lot. She's a prostitute." Gambler says angrily.
A Gambler was arguing with me because the fact I recognized the store is a lottery machine for combat means I could be his son. Cause-
"Only my son could think like me!" Gambler snaps angrily.
"Yeah, but what if her genes remember your talents cause your sperms' memories mixed with her eggs' memories?" Scientist says seriously.
I literally got a headache from the sheer madness we both heard. The Gambler was too calm.
"I heard that before, why you mention-" Gambler says angrily.
Then he stiffens up, smiles, then frowns.
"Dammit, I'm just your gene father. Not your real father. I just fucked your mom so many times, her pussy stole my skills for her kids." Gambler says bitterly.
That's right folks. If your mom fucks a man too many, according to hoe economics, her eggs take your sperms' talents for their own kids. If you fuck them too many times. And-
"It also works if she swallows your sperm. Not just in the pussy! Same with the butt too!" Scientist says seriously.
Then he drove away. And we all walked away pouting after that. The whole neighborhood. The whole parking lot. Everyone was mad for a month. Women even blamed me for their kids knowing psychology and how to write stories too early. It was dumb.
They claimed it was cause I have cum stains on my underwear. And sperm crawls like germs. It's fucking bullshit, how did I end up a gene father cause of crawling sperm? Life is a fucking joke, man.
Tell that sperm to fetch me a damn soda if it's going around, crawling from my underwear stains into people's vaginas.