After getting "slightly" pushed by Maestro (his[Maestro's] words, not Jones's), Jones' boat was off to McDonald's Island. Yeah, simple as that.
But a little something feels a little different this time around. And I swear on every God that ever existed I'm not being a dumbass or putting my hopes up for the sake of stupid hope. What I'm feeling is that... Jones will actually be the one to end this nightmare. You know, the Re4lDe4l nightmare, that they'll take the world over one day. (Though you could escape them? You can take the Re4lDe4l out of your mind, but you can't take your mind out of The Re4lDe4l. They're here to stay, whether you like it or not) I mean, sure, you might argue, where's my proof that this won't end up a complete sham or become the biggest letdown recorded in world history, but c'mon people, believe in the world (Except for all the incompetent inbred crackheads that couldn't take down the dumbest gang in world history). But, you get the point, if we don't believe in ourselves and the world to put an end to this tom-foolery bullshit, we're never gonna end it. (But then, there's so much good reason we've seen in this novel to not believe) Just sayin', tho. Anyways, why don't we check in on our lord and savior Jones-
Jones was in his boat, trying to paddle with an empty bottle of Aquafina since Maestro never gave him a paddle, just minding his own business and doing his thing when a whole-ass yacht reeking of old money pulled up on him. The yacht looked like any normal yacht, a bunch of rich people, chatting about sophisticated things while shotgunning glasses of wine. But there was just one little thing about the yacht. Not about the yacht itself, necessarily, but rather the people in it. No they weren't the richest of the rich, or in the same company, and no, they weren't all in major debt or dying. For this explanation to make absolutely any sense to you, I must first introduce you to the most average couple ever: Michael and Jessica Johnson.
First up, we got Michael Johnson, the most average guy ever. He was a 38-year old white man (not a wannabe thug though) somewhere in the suburbs of Columbus, Ohio. He had a bachelor's degree in Business Administration from some state college, and made 62 grand from his job as a sales representative for some regional manufacturing company. He was married to Jessica Johnson with two kids, a 9-year old daughter and a 6-year old son, and put down a 30-year mortgage on a 3-bedroom home. He drove a 2021 Ford F150, had 18 bands in his 401k, and had normal credit card debt. He enjoyed screaming his ass off at the TV when college football and the NFL went on, doing casual exercise, doing Netflix and chill (also YouTube). He also enjoyed hittin' the grill on weekends, doing golf with his coworkers sometimes, and drafting athletically superior, richer, and more successful men onto his imaginary team (AKA fantasy football, also shoutout DFF for the idea). He was also kind of a Protestant Christian, he went to church a few times a year.
Now Jessica: 36, white, about as much of a Protestant as Michael, and also in the suburbs of Columbus. She had a bachelor's degree in Education from the same university as Michael, and was pulling in 51 grand (I don't know if she's doing tax fraud, so this is all for now) from being an elementary school teacher at a public school. At home, she was the mother of two kids (which you already know from the Michael bit) and had a golden retriever she called Bailey. For fun, she watched true crime on Netflix or Hulu, read, baked, and did social media (probably to boost her digital image and appear better then she really was). She did have Twitter (I am NOT gonna call it X, okay?), which will be mentioned again.
Now, you may be asking, how in the actual goddamn fuck does a couple so average, so normal, so mediocre get pulled into this. Well, remember the Twitter part? Yeah, what went down on that site was so horrific, inhumane, and pathetic in general, half of Twitter's staff got publicly executed, Elon Musk was fined the world's net worth, and Biden signed an executive order (which he didn't remember of course) so this incident had to be recorded in every history textbook published from this moment forward.
So... yeah, I don't feel like making an entire essay right now... basically, Jessica shared a public opinion an entire Facebook group of rich people personally disagreed with. The smear campaign, harassment both at home and work, doxxing, DDOSing, false accusations, bomb threats, verbal abuse, death threatening, AI-generated blackmail, and blatant gaslighting, easily provable bullshit, and victimization from the rich peoples' side was... absolutely pathetic and mind-shattering to say the absolute very least. And after the rich people learned influence didn't get you treated any better (in this fictional society, in America, not so much), they all bullied a yacht captain into transporting them to some remote island (not McDonald's Island) and ran off from the consequences of their actions.
Anyways, the rich people clearing weren't hiding the fact they hadn't changed at all, if anything, they only became more entitled little shits. They were harassing poor Jones, who did absolutely nothing but exist and try to live his life, all because he was "dirty" (that's what they called anyone who wasn't in the Top 1000 richest people). They were calling him names, throwing their trash at him, insulting his family, you name it. All because he didn't hold a major stake of at least one major country. These fucking entitled daddy's-money-rich crackhead inbred scumbags, I swear on every fucking God to have ever existed in any religion these people have never the words "no", "poor", "respect", or "kindness". Their heads are just too far up their asses for that. But luckily for Jones, just as another little shit was about to throw a knife at the boat to puncture it and send Jones drowning, the Coast Guard announced they were coming, and yes, they were after the jackasses on the yacht.
Now, let's check in on the McDonald's Island owner, Biggie McDonald Duck, who just found out that someone was coming to kidnap someone. He was furious, but only because he had to play one less match of Clash Royale than yesterday so he could send someone to protect the island so it wouldn't fall into anarchy and not because his island was in danger. So what did he do? He hit up Biggie McDonald Duck Jr., who ruled the island, told me what was happening and to do something about it.
And what did Biggie Jr. do, you may ask? Well, before that, I should mention that Biggie Sr. got reported for a false crime. Apparently, some amateur gold-digger who got disowned by all her family (including those who shared a singular trace of DNA with her) and called everything she did "gHeTtO", went onto the CIA hotline, crying the most blatant manipulative and fake tears ever known to humanity, claiming that Biggie Sr. pulled a rugpull on her dementia-suffering grandma with a coin called the "TikTok Dancing Coin". The catch? There's two, actually, because first of all, crypto companies weren't even legally allowed to register a coin with "TikTok" in it, and second, said grandma was dead. During World War 1. But to serve as a testament of how dumb government has become, the CIA HAD to consider her word as law all because they found out she mastered the false SA accusation (Sweet fucking Jesus, how long are we gonna do this shit?). The result: Biggie Sr. had his "electronic and internet privileges" revoked because the CIA controlled every data server to ever exist, and after Biggie Sr. realized he'd only be able to play 234 matches of Clash Royale instead of 4759, the biggest crashout in world history was officially recorded.
Okay, okay, I'll tell you what Biggie Jr. did. His decision was to round up 100 residents and have 50 of them guard every millimeter of the island, with the other 50 chasing down Jones in the ocean. So the residents would actually do their job instead of being a bunch of lazy fucks, he bribed them with the URLs to "A Certain Kind of Entertainment Websites" (I think we all know that means they're gonna get the URLs to carbon copies of the Hub based on how everything has gone so far.)
Meanwhile, Biggie Sr. just came up with an apparently big-brain idea to feed his addiction again. He decided that he was gonna go look for abandoned offices to steal computers from, because he just had to allegedly "do some stuff on Incognito Mode" (of course it's Incognito Mode). But they also put Biggie Sr. on house arrest (it was the 400th time the CIA thought ahead, which seems bad for an organization at least 80 years old, but you have to consider the fact this would've been the first time in their 125-year history they thought ahead😭😭😭), so out the window did that plan go. Now Biggie will have an ever bigger crashout, which would be hard to believe).
Now back to Jones' little journey: Now that the harassment from the trust fund babies peaked, the Coast Guard finally came in to save Jones' sanity. Guess you can't escape your own digital footprint lmao. With the work of 10 Coast Guard boats, they were able to trap the yacht and keep it from moving at all, forward or backward. Of course, these rich people weren't happy, they barely understood the fact that 'consequences' was a real word, and being the rich fucks they are, they tried to variety of methods to be let go, from bribery to threats financial-related and "dO yOu KnOw WhO i Am?" (Pretty sure that method's been patched if I haven't been living under a rock).
However, since Coast Guard captains still have spines (they should replace the CIA), none of the bullshitted empty threats stood a chance against these people, and since they clearly weren't paid enough for what they had to endure, they just decided to throw firebombs. I mean, at least they used their heads for that. But if they were looking to kill off all these rich little shits, which I personally would have considered for sure, they were big brain.
Of course, since they were so fucking entitled, a couple of rich people tried to kick Jones off the very boat they tried to destroy (you canNOT make this shit up), claiming they deserve it more than him. One trust fund baby even said, and I quote:
"I deserve this boat after all these sacrifices I made from you" - Entitled bitch who didn't even know Jones' first name
Well, for one, I have a lot to say about this shit. I swear on every fucking God that ever fucking existed I have no fucking idea why this fucking bitch thought it would be such a fucking bright idea to say this dumb shit with a straight face. First, you "deserve" the boat? Jones' boat? "i DeSeRvE tHe BoAt". You know what you deserve? NOT FUCKING SHIT. You be a trust fund baby and a lazy shit your entire life and think you deserve something that the person who has it worked harder (and he just paid in drugs, which says a lot) for it than for everything combined in your entire life? Nada. And let's not get started on the "sacrifice" bullshit.
Now back to your scheduled novel:
Luckily for Jones, they all failed, thanks to the very helpful Coast Guard, but one of the spoiled bums did get Jones laying unconscious. Again, the Coast Guard was helpful, so they did get Jones over to his destination of McDonald's Island.
Once Jones woke up, he had one thing of his mind: Don't let Buck leak his Incognito Mode searches, so he ran off, determined to destroy the island and make Buck happy.