"Blue, would you like a cup of tea?" questioned Mr. Salt.
Blue stood stupefied, not saying a word.
"Or maybe one of your homemade CRACK BROWNIES?"
Blue once again stood in silence.
"How about a nice shwastica fruitcake? Huh? I bet you would like that, you jew hating bastard!"
Blue was now drooling. A layer of saliva was forming around his lips.
"Are you tired of these constant meetings? Well, I'm tired of countless women and children being killed by you natzi scum!"
Now Blue was growling.
"Well, this meeting will end with no consequences, but you know something that won't? The holocaust! Now get out of here you neo-natzi scumbag!"
Now blue jumped like a blood craved dog… With rabies… Witch he was.
"AAAHHH!" screamed Mr. Salt, blurting out several curse words I can't mention in a teen rated story including "Fuck", "Shit", and "Bitch". Thank God for the specifically written rating system, or I'd be in some deep doodey! Now, see how easy that was? I replaced an unmentionable word and replaced with doodey.
Thank you, creative writing!
Soon the night narrowed down and all that was left in the questioning room was some spilt salt, the Christmas issue of "Hustler", and a satisfied dog.
Meanwhile…
"Jones, how many times have I told you to stay away from the new girl? I don't care if you are the hip teen of tomorrows' society, she's too young for you!" shouted the schools' principal.
"Sir, I can't help it if someone slipped steroids in my crack-rock last week! I'm a lean, mean, lady machine, and you're just gonna have to learn to deal with it!" countered the dashing young man in the corner.
"Well, you are pretty good in bed- I mean you are a straight boner student. I mean-
"I'm a straight A student?"
"Whatever you say, handsome. You're dismissed."
Hello. My name is Jonathon D. Santchez, and I'm an American jiggalo.
Most people call me by my street name. Jones. A simple five-letter name that's become my identity. At my work station, there were two people: The orange hats and the white hats. Thankfully, I had ended up with the white hats…
Act 1: Nightingale
Introduction: Beyond eBay
"Well, I guess there's no turning back now."
I remember my days in the core; my days of sweet adolescence, when I wasn't just another corporate employee. No, a long time ago, I used to be an eBay salesman. Yes, I remember when the XBOX 360 was first released without an opening price… Oh, how I reaped in the glory…
But then I had found something beyond even the charismatic welfare of eBay. This is when I discovered Youtube.
Now however, I was just a slave to the man; a dying ember on the corporate ladder of life.
A nothing.
Now, back to the story…
"So I said to the guy "Why does this have a bunch of owls on it?" and he says, "I told you it was a Hooters calendar, didn't I?"
"lololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololol!!!!!!!!!!!!11 OH MARK YOU ARE A SCREAMING RIOT."
"Why thank you, automated computer program. I am quite laughable with my outrageously comical antics, aren't I?"
"niggasayhuh?"
"Huh?"
"lolololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololololol. PWND."
"Ha-ha. Okay, you got me."
"suck my pen0r"
"What?"
"Nothing."
Suddenly, a stranger walked in. It was Jones.
"Hey, Mark. Hey automated computer program."
"lolololololol-
"Okay, who phished automated computer program?"
"I found him!" Suddenly, Mark pulled up a striped-clothed bandit.
"WALDO?" questioned the group simultaneously.
"Yes, it is I, but I am but an ungainly plot device in the storyline."
"Then you must know who the main villain is!" replied the three employees.
"Yes, he's the one who put me up to this. Here's his address."
"Let me see that!" demanded Jones. "Huh… Peewees' Playhouse, between the "Queer Eye For the Straight Guy" recording studio and Hulk Hogans' house… Sounds a little bit queer to me…"
"No, it's not strange at all! It's a normal, kid-friendly environment!" countered Waldo.
"Well I'm convinced!" shouted Mark in spite. "Looks like we're going to Disney Land!"
"Before or after Walt Disney died?"
"Before."
"Oh… Well then, you're right! TO PEEWEES' PLAYHOUSE!"
"TO PEEWEES'!" shouted the group in a sentimental cheer, with Waldo by their side.
Meanwhile…
"Yes, let the fools come. Little do they know, once you enter my house, there's only one way out… And that's through the backdoor!"
RM: Chapter 1 will be much longer. I promise.