Tuesday, February 23, 2010
I continue my meaningless life
I slept fairly well last night. It seems that plummeting from a helicopter and crashing through the roof of your house does wonders for Insomnia.
I awoke extremely refreshed. It did not bother me that my home was in shambles. Seeing as how I had a free day on my hands, I decided to make the best of it. I thought this would be a perfectly good opportunity to wonder around my neighborhood and contemplate life.
It seemed that only after walking a short distance, the poverty level that I was accustomed to was greatly reduced. I began to notice cars that have not suffered severe damage, and also yards that did not have an endless amount of garbage scattered about. It is strange how human beings can behave so differently from one area to the next.
As I continued to walk, a great change had come about me. I was no longer tormented as severely by the demons of my own mind. Their chatter seemed to be lessened. I did not understand how this was possible. After all, I had not consumed a double ration of Natty Lite in quite some time.
Furthermore, It seemed that my concentration had become enhanced. Walking down the sidewalk had become an act in itself. To clarify, I focused on that which I saw. I heard that which I heard. No longer was I concerned with the economy. I was now able to detect minute occurrences that I was previously blind to.
After walking a good half-hour, I also noticed that I had achieved a higher state of self-awareness. On the slight occasion when my mind had begun to drift, I took notice. I had acquired the ability to become a passive observer of my thoughts. With this new ability, I could analyze my more bizarre musings from a detached perspective. This was, of course, very fortunate, seeing as how the vast majority of my thoughts were filled with rage and were without merit.
After two hours, I returned home. Though my first desire was to rapidly consume an extreme amount of modestly-priced charcoal filtered vodka, I was able to avert this calamity. I acted like a gentleman and a scholar. I took it upon myself to clean my filthy domicile instead. After all, Rodoslav was content with being a notorious slob.
After cleaning the bathrooms and living area, I thought it might be best to prepare a meal. Instead of consuming my normal meal of raw cod-fish, discarded ham-bones, and Vienna Sausages, I thought I might try that which is referred to as "cooking."
I turned the burners on my stove to maximum temperature. Upon the stove, I placed a small pot, filled with liquid fat. After the fat had achieved the desired heat, I tossed in some pieces of sliced up chicken. In my best estimation, these chickens were not lovingly killed. I believed they suffered from some type of industrial-based destruction.
I watched the chicken sizzle. Normally, in these circumstances, I would imagine as if the bodies of my adversaries were in the pot, sizzling away. Now I simply regarded it as pieces of mechanically sliced up chicken. Nothing more, nothing less. Its amazing how you can find such simplistic beauty in such an unlikely place.
Sunday, February 21, 2010
The Great Climax of My Journey
“It’s HIM. HE is coming HERE?”
“I thought he was supposed to be in Tokyo right now!”
“It looks like Mr. Segal fucked up… Bad.”
The helicopter finally touched down. As the engines de-powered, the door slowly began to open, and a strange group of men stepped out of the chopper. They were all dressed in what seemed to be expensive attire. They wore mirrored sunglasses, and all had strange wires going from their ears down into their shirts. Not only that, but they were all bald. Oh yeah, they all pale-grey colored skin.
After the strange men made their way out of the chopper, they were followed by another curious individual. He wore severely-expensive business attire, much more so than the others. Upon his face, there was a very odd, but determined expression. He stood us down for what seemed to be an eternity. All the while, he smoked an extraordinary number of cigarettes. With only one inhalation, he consumed an entire cigarette. After smoking what I estimate to be at least fifty packs of cigarettes, he was ready to get down to business.
The smoking man did not seem to be impressed.
“Hear me now dark gods! I am seeking your power. In the name of Baal, Malek, and Zuleban, I will prove myself worthy! I shall not fear flame, arrow, or the blade of my enemies. I will play the greatest of all games and win! By the power vested in me henceforth, I shall attain the Ninth Gate!
After a severe impact, I found myself back in my room. I thought that it kind of sucked that my roof was destroyed, but I figured that I might be able to pay to have it repaired, seeing as how I was now gainfully employed.
Friday, February 19, 2010
I was now well on my way to my new life. Seeing as how I was very exhausted from the "hazing" I had experienced on the journey thus far, I decided to make myself comfortable. I could not help at marvel at the idea that I had my very own bed. Even if it was only temporary, it still blew my mind. Seeing as how I had become quite accustomed to sleeping on newspaper and straw in Rodoslav's apartment, this was a new height of luxury.
I lay down on my bunk, and began to ponder what might lie ahead of me. I heard one of the "instructors" saying something about how everyone in group "Laborat" would be working 18 hour shifts. Could this really be true? I cannot believe my good fortune! Most of my days up to this point had been filled with quite a bit of idle time. I had spent many dark hours pondering many bad things. I think I may have taken it a little too far when I started planning the downfall of all mankind. Of course now, it seemed, those days might be over. Its time to start being a productive human Being!
I managed to fall asleep rather quickly. I found this rather surprising seeing as how I did not have any rations of Natural Light available. Praise be to Thmetul Nesulehomon our Instructors had the good sense to give us a good little work out.
I slept for what seemed to be an eternity. When I woke, I found myself experiencing a very odd sensation. Somehow, I had fallen out of my bunk. Furthermore, the decaying waste from the toilet had spilled all over me. Very bizarre. When I stood up, I was met with yet another surprise. I found that I could not stand. I was being slammed about my small chamber repeatedly. What mighty force could be responsible for this? Is this the work of he who is not? However, in only a short time, I began to realize what was going on. The only possibility was that I was aboard a very large ship. Of course, I had never seen one, but I heard both Rodoslov and the Shogun of the Dark speak of them before. I had no idea that there could be such massive sea-going vessels. Even though I was blind-folded on my journey up to this point, I got a good sense of the size of the vessel when I was escorted to my room. I also figured that all of the others from groups "Laborat" and "La Morte" must be on this ship. I am very glad that I was given my own room. I don’t even want to think about how annoying the gasps of horror would be from those idiots.
After about 12 hours in the violent seas, I heard my door begin to open. I saw three large men standing before my door. The first two were about the same size. I would have to say that they were just slightly over six feet and weighed at least two-hundred and fifty pounds. However, the third man was far larger than they. He was not only taller, but he was much broader and muscle bound. He even carried a severely large sword.
With one hand, the largest of the men grabbed me, pulled me out of my cell, and then threw me violently up against the wall. I would have to say that his technique is superb, far better than the relatively small man that slammed me back at the apartment. After which, he commenced the barrage of yelling as was customary. "MOVE! FUCKING MOVE! I thought to myself, "It’s about time!"
Thursday, February 18, 2010
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
I am very excited. Rodoslav has just informed me that the time has come to start my new carreer. I have been waiting a very long time for this. Finally, I no longer have to play "Dark Stalker" to support myself!
However, he tried to make a few things clear to me about the nature of my new employers. First and foremost, he said that most people would not describe my job as "Glamorous." Of course, I’m not at all certain what that means, but I’m sure that it’s nothing to be concerned about. Secondly, he said that in the course of my labors, I would be required to go abroad to partake in what he called a "Work/Study" program. What is it that I will be studying? Again, I cannot say. Finally, he told me that there would be risks involved. I think he said something either about "High Casualties" or "Highly expendable" something or another. At any rate, I will be glad to get out of the house more often.
I was very excited that night. In order to get to sleep on time, I drank a substantial amount of Natural Light. I also drank a large amount of modestly priced charcoal filtered vodka to ensure that I would slumber peacefully.
Morning came very suddenly. I was awakened by the sound of my front door being smashed in. I heard what seemed to be the foot steps of at least ten large individuals coming up the stairs. Before I could even blink, an unsightly gang descended upon me. So hard was I thrown against the wall that it was damaged considerably, causing a few chunks to fall to the ground. Whilst I lay, I was kicked repeatedly, and a deafening level of shouting filled the room. Before I could rise again, a large black sack was placed over my head.
After being shoved down the stairs, one of the men helped me back to my feet. I was then led forcefully out the door, and then led into what seemed to be a large vehicle.
Though I was deprived of my vision, I could make out a few distinct sounds. There was a good amount of screaming, but mostly soft continual sobs filled the air. Also, I could make out one of the large men yelling the word "Slave" over and over again.
It was a very unique beginning for my new life. I’m not quite sure what to make of it. I’ve heard of the Shogun of the Dark talk about how there is a certain protocol for treating new recruits to social organizations. I think he called it "hazing." I suppose I was being hazed for the first time. I am very glad that I was able to have this experience to better familiarize myself with everyday customs in this country.
I couldnt find any constructive activity to occupy myself with today, so the only thing I could think of doing was to go find the Shogun of the Dark. He told me that it would serve me well to have further training in the art of verbal combat.
Last time I tried this, We seemed to have a pretty good back in forth banter. However, I can't help but doubt that this is how ordinary humans argue.
I said unto the Shogun, "You are about as worthless as a quartz-movement potassium biscuit tin!"
The Shogun replied, "I find you as offensive as I find a modestly-ionized Norwegian badger!"
I said unto him, "I will disrespect you in the same way that I disrespect a weakly-magnetized Mongolian fridge magnet!"
He relied, "But you must also realize that I will disrespect you as I disrespect a curiously-manufactured copper rocking chair!"
I said unto him, " I find you as idiotic as I find an eight-sided Jurassic sparkler!"
He replied, "Your value as a human being is less than that of a quick-drying medieval avocado!"
I said unto him, "I will destroy you as easy as I destroy a partially-inflated Siberian armadillo!"
He replied, "But you must realize that I will smash you in the same way that I smash an absolutely foul neolithic violin!"
I said unto him, "I find you as foolish as I find a non-existant morrocan handbrake!"
He replied, "I will destroy you as completely as I destroy a painstakingly-disintergrated lithium toad!"
I said unto him, "Your vastly inflated sense of self is greater than that of a lead-plated overpriced wishing well!"
He replied, "Your attempts to thwart me are as confused as a multi-faceted Algerian manhole cover!"
I said unto him, "I find your attempts to derail me as pathetic as I find a steam-driven Lithuanian Crow."
He replied, "Of course, it is unfortunate that you are unable to forsee your inevitable demise, which is more assured than the destruction of an oily Victorian egg-cup."
I said unto him, "You are really starting to become an irritating little cast-iron volt meter!"
He replied, "Is that supposed to mean something to me? You live on the most precarious of ledges, one that is more fragile than an abstract Mongolian gate!"
I said unto him, "Thats the stupidest thing Ive ever heard. Why don't you go back to your land of make believe, with your violently interwoven Czechoslovakian taxis and such!"
He replied, "Yeah, says the guy who is not worthy to have even the grimiest of Cambodien wardrobes!"
The Age of Hobo
Part Deux:
Phase II (The Quickening)
One of the the things I was trying to shed light on earlier was my insatiable desire to destroy all of civilization. Why? I will tell you why. Mankind, on its most basic level, is nothing more than a shell of its former greatness. As our systems of social equilibrium become stronger, the natural forces of nature are no longer able to affect the population in to any significant degree. As the timeline progresses, inferior genetic traits will actually be proliferated. Ultimately, we will be adrift in a seemingly endless sea of morons of the highest magnitude.
The only saving grace to this scenario is that the few intellectual elite that remain will find themselves in a position of unimaginable power. I intend to see to it that I will be among these elites. However, I will take advantage of their trust. However, the unwashed masses are not the only ones who I shall bring ruin upon. I shall rain terror down upon the elites who enabled civilization to become so "handicapped" as well.
I will include a few more points here in my ongoing manifesto:
-The Population wants some form of financial assistance for low income families. You will promise to provide it to them. You will make a national television and radio broadcasts announcing that you will provide low-interest loans. In a very short time, the masses will gather at the regional government offices. When the buildings and streets are saturated at what seems to be maximum capacity, you will turn on all Public alert loudspeakers and broadcast them throughout the cities. Your announcement shall be that any and all loan applications shall be rejected, and that you are discontinuing all forms of social well fare for the present and foreseeable future. Riots will ensue. You will take advantage of the chaos.
-The Population wants some form of guarantee that the federal government will protect them in times of national crisis. You shall open up all previously restricted flood zones for resettlement. You will create an abundance of low rent housing in these zones, and you shall also provide comprehensive flood insurance for all other questionable zones. When the flood inevitably strikes, the people will turn to your government for assistance. You will do nothing. You will claim that no assistance shall be provided due budget shortfalls, and that no government action will be possible because of the inability of the legislature to agree upon government spending projections. You will maintain this position for the duration of the crisis. You will anticipate the soon to come public outcry. You will blame it on the legislature. You will do this to further your own dark agenda.
-The Population demands some form of social Justice. You will give it to them. Your first act shall be to raise the tax rate on all social classes to 98% You will continue this financial blood-letting for quite some time. Whenever your government has accumulated enough wealth, you will begin construction of a public works project of unforeseen proportions. You will build a structure from stone, iron, wood, and any other crucial building resource that you can think of. It shall have a base of ten thousand feet by ten thousand feet, and it shall be ten thousand feet high. Upon this massive monument, you shall inscribe the names of every man, woman and child on the planet in very large font. For every name, there shall be a caption that says, "so and so was special because he/she was smart and nice" There will be an inevitable public outcry. When the public demand as to why you have wasted not only all tax payer dollars, but all resources, you shall have a rebuttal. It shall be, "Well, you asked for it."
There are just a few points of my ongoing manifesto. Please let me know of any other good ideas.
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
My attempt to educate myself about culture through Film Viewings
Film 1: Clockwork Orange
I enjoyed this film immensely. The plot revolves around a young man in a land far away. His greatest joy in life is ignoring all social customs of every sort. One of the particular activities that he engages in is drinking amphetamine laced milk, and then playing a game called "Hogs of the Road" I not sure what amphetamines are. I suppose I will have to ask Rodoslav. My best understanding is that it is a powerful form of milk that provides anyone who drinks it with great courage.
As for the game "Hogs of the Road", it seems to be the most fun activity that a human being could ever do. The purpose of the game is to drive in the lane designated for on-coming traffic at the highest speed that your vehicle is capable of attaining. It seems very dangerous, but do not worry. Those cars that you are bearing down on will ultimately make an attempt to avoid you. Why wouldn't they though? After all, you have drunk the milk of power, and they most probably have not. Despite the fact that on some occasions the other vehicles attempt to evade you will result in death, most of their evasion attempts are quite humorous.
Great film. If you have the means, I highly recommend attaining it for yourself.
Film 2: Friday
I found this movie rather strange, but I did get a good amount of enjoyment from it. The plot revolves around two young men that live in what is referred to as the "Ghetto" I'm not exactly sure what is the meaning of this "Ghetto," but I don't see what all the fuss is about. Their neighborhood, in my estimation, seems to be rather affluent. (at least compared to my home)
Early in the movie, one of the young men makes a declaration to the other man. "I know you don't smoke weed, I know this; but I'm going to get you high today, 'cause its Friday; you ain't got no job... and you ain't got shit to do"
Now, again, I'm not exactly sure what this "Weed" is, are what its effects are. I believe that it is an undesirable plant that grows out of sidewalks, but when harvested and treated, it has can be smoked. The smoking of weed produces a different number of effects. It does not seem to be that different than drinking a fair amount of Natty Lite. I need to get a hold of some "weed" for myself. It should not be that difficult to find. Maybe I will have success If I ask around the Wal-Mart.
Monday, February 15, 2010
As is customary these days, I awoke lying upon my pile of straw and newspaper. I had slept later than I would have liked, mainly due to over consumption of "Natty" You see, I have been drinking quite a bit since that incident the other night. Normally, Im not the type to be fearful of strange occurrences. After all, I did spend the vast majority of my life chained to the floor of a deep underground lair. It was not until just a few weeks ago that I had ever seen that which is called the "Sun."
When I approached the front door of my house, I noticed that a small piece of paper had been slipped under my door. What could it be? Perhaps it was a notice from Rodoslav's superiors that he must hasten his production of biological weapons. If that was true, then It would be my duty to notify him immediately.
Upon opening the letter, it turned out to be something other than I had expected. To my misfortune, I had the entire letter before I figured out what was happening. I was far too hung over to notice the name that was written upon it.
By Libby Agnes Deloris III
Sunday, February 14, 2010
Yesterday, Rodoslav gave to me another series of the comic strip concerning the one they call "Garfield" I simply cannot get enough of this stuff. The one they call "Jon", the owner of the now deceased feline Garfield, continues to suffer from not only deep rooted mental illness, but personality disorders as well.
It continues to become more and more entertaining as time progresses:
In this strip, Jon is attempting to play a game that those living in the world of the light refer to as "hide and seek." Apparently, the object of the game is to allow your victim to give himself/herself a chance to hide before you begin your attack. After counting to a previously agreed upon number, the assailant will come and seek out the victim. If the victim escapes, he or she is free to go about life unhindered. If the victim is caught, then that person will be subject to unimaginable torture.
However, It seems that Jon is playing this game with himself. As to whether or not his victim is imaginary, I do not know. Perhaps Jon is actually attempting to inflict great pain upon himself. It becomes evident in the third square that he is not prepared to accept the consequences of his actions.
In this scene, Jon seems to be having another "moment of clarity" He seems to be well aware of his disturbed state of mind. In the first two frames, you can see him trying to determine something. Maybe he is battling with the demons of self doubt. It seems that he is victorious in the end.
For this scene, Jon seems to be battling with bouts of insomnia. what demented thoughts is he having in his countless sleepless nights? Once again, we can only speculate. However, I assure you that he is a very conflicted individual. I would go so far as to say that he is, in fact, the essence of self conflict.
Perhaps this is the most dubious of all the Garfield strips so far. In the first panel, Jon seems to be walking about his kitchen. To my surprise, he has what seems to be some sort of sense of self-confidence. What great transformation has occurred here?
Part Deux
Once again, I could help but mull over the wretched state of mankind. After witnessing one peculiar event, a very powerful hatred began to form inside of me.
The location of the event was the enormous complex which the people of this area refer to as “Wal-Mart.” As you might have already imagined, I did not go there to purchase any sort of good or service. I was merely there as a passive observer. Over time, I had accumulated what seemed to be a countless number of hours wandering its expansive Isles. Oddly, no one seemed to pay any mind to me. It is quite baffling when considering my bizarre eccentricities.
On the particular day of the incident in question, I had lurched into the area where the large flickering plastic devices are kept. Normally I would have continued my endless wandering through the complex, but an extremely obese adolescent male caught my eye. He was engaged in debate with what appeared to be his female parental unit. He was making a passionate appeal to her reason. The only thing that I was able to make out at the time was “World of Warcraft.” There was also something mentioned about an “Upgrade.”
Later in the week I asked of the Shogun of the Dark what is the meaning of “World of Warcraft?” At this point, I could tell that he was about to begin one of his severely long stories. I really wish I had gotten myself a snack beforehand.
“Long ago before the dawn of time as you understand it to be, There was a information network established in this world. Though its original intended use was that of a electronic bulletin board system in which the highly educated could share their research, It had come to be something very different indeed. Over a period of time, gradual increases in technology were made, allowing the grid to function more efficiently. By the time you had escaped from your dark subterranean prison, the Internet had become much more “user-friendly” To be frank, it had evolved to the point where even the stupidest of humans could “log on.”
“Once the number of these idiots had reached critical mass, the content on the Internet became overrun by content that was severely absurd in nature. No longer was it a tool for research. In fact, it had become an evil entity, feeding off the life force of those without the mental capabilities to recognize it for what it was.”
However, another thing you must realize is that those on the other end of the spectrum were not blind as to the nature of the recent developments. Though they were aware of what the grid had become, they chose to continue to writhe in its wretched, God-forsaken sea of depravity. You see, it became well known among the well informed that a select few elite would become masters of the new electronic realm. Their power would be virtually unlimited!”
At this point, I had to stop the Shogun. I simply could not stand to here another word without obtaining for myself at least a modest snack.
When I hear the rest of the story, I will report to you my findings.
Saturday, February 13, 2010
One thing the Shogun of the Dark has tried to teach me as of late is that modern humans rarely engage in battles of sword. The most often way that they engage each other is in battles of rhetoric.
However, I have very little understanding of this. In an attempt to better myself, I asked the Shogun if I may attempt to spout insults at him, after which, he may respond in kind. He agreed. I do not believe I did very well, seeing how I have very little previous knowledge of everyday language and customs.
I said unto the Shogun, "You are nothing more than a musty old Nigerian Sword!"
He replied: "And you are nothing more than a diesel powered-cosmic cheese trolley!"
I Said unto him, "You are like an awfully-weak ceramic egg!"
He replied: "You soul is like a fiendishly designed Austrian rabbit-hutch!"
I said unto him, "I would describe you at best as an excruciatingly-gnarled mahogony lampost!"
He replied, "Though you must realize, You are nothing more than a tubular cardboard pariscope."
I said unto him, " You are as insignificant as a neglected underwater Mongolian seismometer!"
He replied, "I could not describe any of your attributes as being superior to a cleverly-dehumidified Venezuelan Hamster!"
I said unto him, "You are a termite infested Albanian Peg-leg!"
He replied, "You are but a self-opening Elizabethan-era horse!"
I said unto him, "You are an excessively sticky Babylonian chair!"
He replied, " But you must realize that you are an illegally reinforced mylar lawnmower!"
I said unto him, " I will disrespect you in the same way that I would disrespect a miniature cast-iron snail"
He replied, "Your severly moronic tendancies are as baffling as a seven-dimensional persian rug!"
I said unto him, " I see you as nothing more than an upsettingly-demolished plastic tape-recorder"
He replied, "You have become quite an irritating little interplanetary crisp-packet!"
I said unto him, "You are a maggot ridden potassium woodlouse!"
He replied: "Youre an awfully-decayed Italian whiteboard marker!"
I said unto him, "The strength of your character is as questionable as a muddy mexican rope-bridge"
He replied: "The quality of your soul is less than that off an unexpectedly-dirty Tasmanian ocarina!"
I said unto him, "You are a substantially-battered Egyptian fiber-optic cable!"
He replied: "You are a grotesque papyrus clutch pencil!"
I said unto him, "You are a digitally-enhanced Victorian reptile!"
He replied, "I dismiss your insults in the same way that I dismiss the breeze from a remarkably-pleasant Hungarian fan!"
I said unto him, "Your idiocy is greater than that of a top-heavy carbon-fiber alligator!"
He replied, "I will disregard you in the same way that I disregard a semi-circular neolithic trowel!"
I said unto him, "You are as worthless as a mass produced flemish telegraph pole!"
He replied, "You are as worthless as a 1970's carelessly smashed up typewriter!"
This went on for quite some time. I dont think I am learning very much at all.
The being began to speak. It talked very slowly, and its voice seemed to be projected at me from all angles
"Do not be afraid.... My name is Thmetul.... Thmetul Nesulehomon..... I am he who is not............."
The entity paused for an undetermined amount of time, and then continued to speak.
"Soon.... There shall be a great undoing...... That which you know shall not remain........ Wait for me........ I will see you in time........."
Once again, I had a lapse in consciousness. When I came too, I awoke lying on the living room floor. I was very confused. I questioned the reality of the experience, but yet I could not explain away the multiple second and third degree burns all over my body. Too fucking weird.
I do not grasp the meaning of this event, nor I do I have any delusions of being able to do so. I decided that It was best not to dwell on it. The only thing I could do to feel more "Normal" was to consume a triple ration of Natty Light. I sure that will help things out, at least for the time being.
Thursday, February 11, 2010
Time To Find Some Honest Work
Rodoslav suggested to me the other day that I might want to try and find some form of steady employment. So far I have been able to make my rent payments, but the methods that I have been using have been described at best as... "unsound"
My most profitable technique so far is a technique that I like to call "The Dark Stalker." It is very simple in theory, but can be quite challenging in practice. There is quite a bit of planning involved.
First of all, I have to choose my location carefully. It has to be a location where the security parameters are not very high. Also, It cannot have too much human traffic, at least at some point during its hours of operation.
The location that I have chosen is the biology building at the nearby university. There are quite a bit of students coming in and out in the daylight hours, but there are considerably less at night. During these hours of quiet, I make my way to the higher floors and begin laying out the rest of my strategy.
Once I am on the proper floor, I have to find a particular room where research of some sort is being conducted. I find that the medium sized laboratories are best suited for this purpose. At this point, I need to determine the patterns of those going in and out of this room. Most of the time, I will find that the occupancy of the room is limited to just one person. If am able to determine that this person can steadily be found conducting research alone, then I have found my victim.
You are probably very curious as to what I am going to do at this point. You should not be too alarmed, as no one is going to be harmed. (at least in a physical sense) You see, I have an amazing ability that very few humans possess. I have the ability to shape shift into almost any form I choose. The only limitations to my power is that I cannot become far larger or smaller in size than my original body. I could easily become 8 feet tall, but not 80 feet. (yes, very shameful indeed) I use my shape shifting ability to implement my "Dark Stalker" plan
When my target is the least suspecting, I very stealthily make my way into the room. when I am almost upon my victim, I transform. I almost always do it when there back is turned to them. For the purposes of the dark stalker, I usually assume this form:
Of course, I never feel it necessary to alert them to my presence. When I complete my transformations into some of my more seemingly sinister forms, there is always some kind of indicator that something evil is afoot. Perhaps you can say that an uncanny chill can be felt in the air. However, my victims are usually alerted by the unnatural waves of evil that are pulsating from my core. It is as if they are at once overtaken by waves of dread, or as if a beam of pure malice was being fired into their soul. It is at that point when they feel the need to turn around. They are at once confronted by my horrible visage.
So great is their fear, that they cannot speak. They cannot scream. They cannot move. There is absolutely nothing they can do. At this point, I outstretch my hand to them. I have a difficult time speaking in this form, but I still try to make it clear that I am asking for money. It usually comes out as just one word, muuhhhhnnneeeeyy! It is usually very long and raspy, and is accompanied by a bizarre echo. Upon hearing this, they usually do nothing. They simply stand there, frozen, unresponsive. I really need I need to work on my pronunciation. I feel that it will help streamline the whole process.
The next step is to usually pat them down with my hideously deformed hands, trying to feel where they might keep their money. I would not feel too bad for these people. I am always actually quite gentle. After I take what I need, I usually retreat back into the darkness from which I came.
I don't see why Rodoslav has to frown on me so. Are my actions truly that deplorable? Most of the time, I do not take the bulk of their money. In fact, I always leave them with enough cash so they can pay the exit toll from the parking lot.
Rodoslav tells me that he has arranged for me some honest work. He tells me that my future employers will contact me in the next two weeks. I cannot wait! It will be very nice to take the next step towards becoming a part of normal human society.
Though most of the newspaper in my domicile is reserved for my bedding, I do occasionaly get a chance to read some of the material. There was a good collection of articles, though most of them made no sense at all to me. I just dont understand why the inhabitants of this city would try to entertain themselves by reading about the increases in their required financial contribution to the local authorities. Though they did include some articles which expressed grievances towards the government, there were otheres on the very next page that explained as to why the government should be loved. Very perpexling.
On the final pages, there were a series of drawings that seemed to be arranged in sets of squares. The Shogun of the Dark tells me that these things are referred to as "Comic Strips." Though I do not grasp the meaning of this "comedy" that he speaks of, I did understand that they were arranged in a strip-like layout.
One particular comic strip caught my eye. It was unlike any of the others. It did not engage its readers in the mindless dribble of living in a household of intermediate size, where the male of the house in constantly caving in to the never ending pressure from his revolting wife and parasitic children like the pathetic invalid that he is.
The one I speak of is the comic strip called "Garfield." However, I was unable to locate the character they call Garfield. Shogun tells me that long ago there was a culturally significant idol, and that his name was Garfield. He was worshipped by many. However, as the grains of time passed away into the wind, his popularity began to decline.
Though the source of power responsible for Garfield tried to maintian his relevance by distributing what seemed to be an endless array of publications, their efforts ultimately failed.
As a last ditch effort, the shadow prince decided that he would terminate the life of Garfield.
Now, Garfield is dead. All that remains is the owner of the cartoonish cat. However, the death of his feline companion was far too great for him to bear. As a result, he experiences bouts of insanity that even rival my own.
This strip Illustrates one of the more colorful outbursts of Jon's schizophrenia. He seems to be speaking to an imaginary character who he refers to as "Mr. Droopy Face." Perhaps his dancing is an attempt to keep Mr. Droopy Face at Bay, who may be a dangerous character in his own right.
This strip dispalys the never ending monotony of Jon's life. It does not seem like he is able to occupy himself in any meaningful sort of way. Furthermore, He does not take any steps to provide for his own entertainment. There is a substantial decrease in moral from the second frame to the third.