Post by Mr. Penguin on Sept 14, 2006 19:11:46 GMT -5
Disclaimer:[/u]This story is insane!
Don't read it!
The Adventures Of Yogi The Bear And Booboo
It was a dark and dreary day. The sky outside was overcast and everything looked as if it had been shorouded by an impermeable gray mist that sucked the color out of everything. Even the hobos looked dirtier than usual. Not exactly the picturesque weather you would expect upon visiting Hollywood. But it is not the outside that we care about. It is the inside. Inside a certain building in a certain area of this certain (in)famous city. I can't tell you exactly where, partly because I don't know, and also partly because I've never actually been to Hollywood myself even though it is really not that far from Long Beach where I do live. At least in retrospect to everything else in the world. The rest of the world can be quite far away at times. Like a moon or a star or a *Insert random faraway object here* or something.
But I digress.
Do not worry.
I do this often.
But in any case, we travel into this particular building and witness a quite different scene. It is bright and sunny and full of colors so bright that if you stare at them long enough that they most likely will make your eyes bleed technicolor blood all over yourself. But this... brightness... exists in only one spot. Everywhere else is dark. This is, after all, the set for a show that many kids loathe: Barney and Freinds.
The children themselves sit in the stands. Silent, unmoving, they stare at the currently empty set, and all it's hideously happy scenery.
But where is Barney, that oversized f**kwad? Ah, here he comes!
We observe as the prehistoric monstrosity shuffles slowly toward the center of the stage. He is slumped over and looks about to fall over at any second. Perhaps he is. There is no sign of his usually sunny disposition. What is the cause of this radical change? Well, perhaps we will find out.
"Sorry kids," Barney croaks, "but Barney can't do the show today. He has a nasty-ass hangover."
The children say nothing. If they did, it would sound like nosense anyway. d**n TV warps kids minds, you know.
Barney burps loudly and continues.
"So I'm gonna hand over the show today to my good freinds Bogi and Yooboo."
Two figures walk onto stage and confront Barney. The bigger of the two slaps Barney in the face.
"Our names are Yogi and Booboo you fat f**k! Get it right!"
The two newcomers then turn and face the crown, plastic smiles and TV voices already prepared. And we see, of course, that it is Yogi the bear and his midget freind Booboo. God I miss those shows. They never were very funny to me, and I hardly understood anything, but hell, I was like 6. Anything can make a 6-year old laugh.
But anyways...
The children remain silent as Barney turns and beings to slump off-stage.
Booboo looks up to his freind and comments, "Tough crowd. What should we do?"
Yogi thinks for a moment and then replies, "You think they're as bloodthirsty as the last crowd?"
Booboo laughs uncontroalably for a second and then turns stolid again. "I assume so."
Yogi nods and turns to the crowd. "Do you little guys wanna have some fun?"
There is silence.
Yogi coughs and then says, "Umm... how about killing?"
The pint-sized crowd erupts with enough cheering and screaming to put all of Raider Nation to shame.
Both of the bears grin.
"This is going to be fun," Booboo murmurs.
Yogi points toward the still-receding purple dinasour and shouts, "Let's kill that f**ker!"
The children leap from the stands, armed with whatever they can lay their hands on and rush toward the soon-to-be-deceased Barney.
Barney turns and gasps as he sees the charging children and mutters one single word. "f**k."
WARNING: The next part of the story is very graphic and is not recommended for the faint of heart. Yes. I know. I scare myself too sometimes.
Yogi and Booboo watch as one child leaps onto the back of Barney's head. The belligerent child screams in adolesent fury and attacks. The green crayon he is holding is driven deep into Barney's right eye, and blood spurts from all around the socket as the dinosaur roars and tries to throw the little assassin off. He finally succeeds, but even as he does so, andother leaps at his leg and clamps down as hard as he can. And other jabs a pair of safety scissors into Barney's chest. Soon, he is swamed.
The bears laugh as they watch this. (I know what you're thinking... everybody is a sadistic freak now, aren't they?) But anyways, they laugh as Barney falls to the floor and is ripped and torn at with a ferocity you'd expect from a pack of rabid pitbulls, rather than a group of innocent schoolchildren.
Soon, the children begin dispersing from the bloody purple mound. Where they go is not quite clear. They just sort of vanish into the dark corners of the studio, and into the misty quiet morning outside. You need not worry about them going on a rampage and killing more people. They've already had enough violence to last them a couple years.
Yogi, still grinning, looks at Booboo and say, "You know what to do. Go for it."
Booboo, however, is skeptical. "I dunno Yogi, I don't think he has any pockets."
"So?"
"Well, where would he put his wallet."
"I don't know. Be creative."
"Yogi?"
"Yes, Booboo?"
"Is this going to turn out like that time we killed that entire nudist colony?"
"Perhaps, Booboo, perhaps."
"Then won't I need gloves?"
"He's a dinasour, Booboo!"
"I know... but doesn't that mean he won't have any money?"
"f**k if I know. Let's get out of here before the cops show up."
They both shrug and walk away, dissapearing in much the same manner as the children. We are left alone now with the corpse. Let's examine it, shall we? Not much else to do around here now.
We can see that one eye has a red crayon sticking from it (even though the label says green... I wonder what that's all about? Hehehe...), and the other is missing. We look around and don't see it. Perhaps one of the children decided he needed a souvenir. ASs we examine the body further, we find all sorts of cuts and bites on him. There is also a large amount of safety-scissors, and crayons stuck into his body at various areas. We also notice that one child decided to pour several bottles of glue down the ceratures throat. Cute.
But as for Yogi and Booboo, we know not where they have gone or what they are going to do next. Why? Because I have not thought of it yet.
So yeah.
That's my demented story.
There is actually a story behind this story, though.
Two years ago during sophmore year in high school, I would usually spend lunch in my English class with my freind Mark. We were both very... odd. One day in that class, I decided to write a story. Mark, of course, had a profound effect on what I was writing. What came out was a roungh draft of what you see above, and much less detailed. He thought it was hilarious. He borrowed it to show his freinds. The next day he brought it back and said everyone loved it, and encouraged (forced) me to write more. I got up to something like 6 chapters, each as violent and bloody as the last. He, of course, took all them to show his freinds. I have never seen one of them since. I began rewriting them a year ago, but it just wasn't the same. So now, I brought back to you the first chapter, but much more played-out and graphic. Perhaps it was better when it was shorter. I think the violent aspect of it is only funny when it is more vague. The bloodyness takes away some of the comedic value.
But in any case, that is one story. I will post more on here later, but they will not be as violent as this, so don't worry about that.
Don't read it!
The Adventures Of Yogi The Bear And Booboo
It was a dark and dreary day. The sky outside was overcast and everything looked as if it had been shorouded by an impermeable gray mist that sucked the color out of everything. Even the hobos looked dirtier than usual. Not exactly the picturesque weather you would expect upon visiting Hollywood. But it is not the outside that we care about. It is the inside. Inside a certain building in a certain area of this certain (in)famous city. I can't tell you exactly where, partly because I don't know, and also partly because I've never actually been to Hollywood myself even though it is really not that far from Long Beach where I do live. At least in retrospect to everything else in the world. The rest of the world can be quite far away at times. Like a moon or a star or a *Insert random faraway object here* or something.
But I digress.
Do not worry.
I do this often.
But in any case, we travel into this particular building and witness a quite different scene. It is bright and sunny and full of colors so bright that if you stare at them long enough that they most likely will make your eyes bleed technicolor blood all over yourself. But this... brightness... exists in only one spot. Everywhere else is dark. This is, after all, the set for a show that many kids loathe: Barney and Freinds.
The children themselves sit in the stands. Silent, unmoving, they stare at the currently empty set, and all it's hideously happy scenery.
But where is Barney, that oversized f**kwad? Ah, here he comes!
We observe as the prehistoric monstrosity shuffles slowly toward the center of the stage. He is slumped over and looks about to fall over at any second. Perhaps he is. There is no sign of his usually sunny disposition. What is the cause of this radical change? Well, perhaps we will find out.
"Sorry kids," Barney croaks, "but Barney can't do the show today. He has a nasty-ass hangover."
The children say nothing. If they did, it would sound like nosense anyway. d**n TV warps kids minds, you know.
Barney burps loudly and continues.
"So I'm gonna hand over the show today to my good freinds Bogi and Yooboo."
Two figures walk onto stage and confront Barney. The bigger of the two slaps Barney in the face.
"Our names are Yogi and Booboo you fat f**k! Get it right!"
The two newcomers then turn and face the crown, plastic smiles and TV voices already prepared. And we see, of course, that it is Yogi the bear and his midget freind Booboo. God I miss those shows. They never were very funny to me, and I hardly understood anything, but hell, I was like 6. Anything can make a 6-year old laugh.
But anyways...
The children remain silent as Barney turns and beings to slump off-stage.
Booboo looks up to his freind and comments, "Tough crowd. What should we do?"
Yogi thinks for a moment and then replies, "You think they're as bloodthirsty as the last crowd?"
Booboo laughs uncontroalably for a second and then turns stolid again. "I assume so."
Yogi nods and turns to the crowd. "Do you little guys wanna have some fun?"
There is silence.
Yogi coughs and then says, "Umm... how about killing?"
The pint-sized crowd erupts with enough cheering and screaming to put all of Raider Nation to shame.
Both of the bears grin.
"This is going to be fun," Booboo murmurs.
Yogi points toward the still-receding purple dinasour and shouts, "Let's kill that f**ker!"
The children leap from the stands, armed with whatever they can lay their hands on and rush toward the soon-to-be-deceased Barney.
Barney turns and gasps as he sees the charging children and mutters one single word. "f**k."
WARNING: The next part of the story is very graphic and is not recommended for the faint of heart. Yes. I know. I scare myself too sometimes.
Yogi and Booboo watch as one child leaps onto the back of Barney's head. The belligerent child screams in adolesent fury and attacks. The green crayon he is holding is driven deep into Barney's right eye, and blood spurts from all around the socket as the dinosaur roars and tries to throw the little assassin off. He finally succeeds, but even as he does so, andother leaps at his leg and clamps down as hard as he can. And other jabs a pair of safety scissors into Barney's chest. Soon, he is swamed.
The bears laugh as they watch this. (I know what you're thinking... everybody is a sadistic freak now, aren't they?) But anyways, they laugh as Barney falls to the floor and is ripped and torn at with a ferocity you'd expect from a pack of rabid pitbulls, rather than a group of innocent schoolchildren.
Soon, the children begin dispersing from the bloody purple mound. Where they go is not quite clear. They just sort of vanish into the dark corners of the studio, and into the misty quiet morning outside. You need not worry about them going on a rampage and killing more people. They've already had enough violence to last them a couple years.
Yogi, still grinning, looks at Booboo and say, "You know what to do. Go for it."
Booboo, however, is skeptical. "I dunno Yogi, I don't think he has any pockets."
"So?"
"Well, where would he put his wallet."
"I don't know. Be creative."
"Yogi?"
"Yes, Booboo?"
"Is this going to turn out like that time we killed that entire nudist colony?"
"Perhaps, Booboo, perhaps."
"Then won't I need gloves?"
"He's a dinasour, Booboo!"
"I know... but doesn't that mean he won't have any money?"
"f**k if I know. Let's get out of here before the cops show up."
They both shrug and walk away, dissapearing in much the same manner as the children. We are left alone now with the corpse. Let's examine it, shall we? Not much else to do around here now.
We can see that one eye has a red crayon sticking from it (even though the label says green... I wonder what that's all about? Hehehe...), and the other is missing. We look around and don't see it. Perhaps one of the children decided he needed a souvenir. ASs we examine the body further, we find all sorts of cuts and bites on him. There is also a large amount of safety-scissors, and crayons stuck into his body at various areas. We also notice that one child decided to pour several bottles of glue down the ceratures throat. Cute.
But as for Yogi and Booboo, we know not where they have gone or what they are going to do next. Why? Because I have not thought of it yet.
So yeah.
That's my demented story.
There is actually a story behind this story, though.
Two years ago during sophmore year in high school, I would usually spend lunch in my English class with my freind Mark. We were both very... odd. One day in that class, I decided to write a story. Mark, of course, had a profound effect on what I was writing. What came out was a roungh draft of what you see above, and much less detailed. He thought it was hilarious. He borrowed it to show his freinds. The next day he brought it back and said everyone loved it, and encouraged (forced) me to write more. I got up to something like 6 chapters, each as violent and bloody as the last. He, of course, took all them to show his freinds. I have never seen one of them since. I began rewriting them a year ago, but it just wasn't the same. So now, I brought back to you the first chapter, but much more played-out and graphic. Perhaps it was better when it was shorter. I think the violent aspect of it is only funny when it is more vague. The bloodyness takes away some of the comedic value.
But in any case, that is one story. I will post more on here later, but they will not be as violent as this, so don't worry about that.