OricXe - Column for 4/12

Unwritten Conversation

“Hey dude.”

“Hey man. How you doin'?”

“Good man, never better. And you?”

“Just as good man. Check you later.”

“Wait! What the fuck man? You can't go yet. We just started this conversation.”

“Why the fuck not? And who's that dude looking at us?”

“The one with the red eyes, typing at a keyboard?”

“Yes, him. The tired looking one.”

“He's the one scripting this conversation and he says we can't go yet.”

“Why the hell not?”

“Well, to end this conversation after just a few lines would be wasting the reader's time. So he has to add a little bloat to make it seem better.”

“Did he tell you to say that?”

“Yes he did you sonofabitch. Sorry about that. The writer doesn't take criticism very well.”

“Is it just me or does he seem to have fallen asleep? That means we can go, doesn't it?”

“Not exactly, we have to reach the milestone of five-hundred words before we're free.”

“Dude that's a long conversation. Is there a woman around here somewhere?”

“You're outta luck man. This is a conversation just between us, now that the writer's knocked out.”

“We're still a long way off the target man. Mind if I monologue for a bit?”

“Not at all, go ahead.”

“I'm so fucking tired man. Tired of all this shit man. I mean, why the hell do babies have to shit so much man. It's everywhere man. My nose smells shit all day. My hands smell shitty. I swear I saw a little bit of brown in my eyes this morning. It's fucked man, totally fucked.”

“Man, don't take this the wrong way, but that was a shitty monologue.”

“Says the one who can't even string together a proper sentence.”

“Dude, I can monologue better than you can.”

“Show me, but cursing's prohibited.”

“Ah fuck man. Shit! I said fuck. Fuck! Okay, here goes. Look at my hand. It's normal. It has five fingers with some manicured nails. Just enough lines to make it look manly, but not so many that it looks twenty years older than I am. But when I do this, it turns into a talon. And this makes it a sword. A little swipe of the hand and voila! I have a head where my hand used to be.”

“Dude, that's not a monologue, that's a display of powers that scare the shit out of me. By the way, that head looks dead.”

“I can never seem to get that right. Although once I got the head to stick its tongue out. The girl I was with ran like she just saw a dead head.”

“Dude, I must say that I never ever knew that a dead head could do that. I've been to open-casket funerals, but never felt the urge to run. After seeing that head I could run a hundred meters in under eight seconds.”

“Impossible, dude. I've proved mathematically that the human body is physically unable to run that fast. You heart wouldn't be able to handle that much exertion and you'd die before ninety meters.”a

“When did you become a biokineticist?”

“When I read the Biokinetics for Dummies.”

“And the math? Do you have a degree in maths?”

“No I read, the Idiot's Guide to Math. Why?”

“That fucking irks me man. The world is full of people like you. You read one fucking book aimed at the masses that introduces a subject and you think that you're the expert on said subject. You spread your sometimes incomplete knowledge to your friends to make yourself seem smarter while they do exactly the same thing for exactly the same reason. Your fucking shitty knowledge is changed until it becomes something so different to the truth that the masses suspect a conspiracy when someone tries to clean up the mess that you created. That person is fucked, culled by public opinion until he changes his opinion to fit with the fucked up status quo. To me that's fucked man and you should get some proper fucking qualification before making statements like that.”



“That was a fucking good monologue! Ah shit, the writer just woke up.”

“How far are we?”

“Past our goal. Let's go before he starts writing.”

Columns by OricXe