Another Day in the Cul-de-sac
This is my first fanfic that is of something legitimate.
(Edd) Sounds Exciting!
Yes very. I am very excited to see what the lovely people of tha net have to say aboot me.
(Ed) Will there be chickens Monsoul?
You bet Ed. And KITTIES! Sorry people, had to get that out of my system. For those
of you who are wondering, no I do not own Ed Edd 'n' Eddy or Rage Against The
Machine; I now present:
Chapter I: The Beginning of the End
It was the darkest day of the week: Thursday. The day that screams "you're so close!" The worst day to die. Or to be thrown around and have your life turned up-side down. This was the fucking day I had to listen to Eddy and build that damned 'money machine', only to misplace a screw and turn it into a fucking monstrosity.
Eddy is a boy who has one passion in life: money. Money is his lust, his inner most desire, his bitch. Yet, funny as it is, he can never have money, not for more than a few minutes. Some strange force, or karma, takes it all away and leaves him with a few scrapes and cuts. His slight crush on Naz is nothing more than that, a small crush to occupy his physical needs; and she won't even bother to give him time of day. Why I am friends with him is something only the Divine could answer.
The day began with a bang, literally. A giant pole had slammed into the side of one of the houses in my cul-de-sac: Eddy's house. I knew my life would drastically change from that moment on, for better or worse. Thankfully, no one was hurt in the crash. However Eddy's parents had been told the house was beyond repair and to build a new one would require circa $70,000; that they did not have. It was decided that they would move as soon as possible, yet Eddy wanted to spend one last day with his friends: Big Ed and I - Double D (Edd).
Big Ed is a quiet, shy guy. Loves chickens. Absolutely loves chickens, like Monsoul5 loves cats. And he is our lackey friend, not much brain but enough muscle to move a house, and he has.
Now I knew Eddy had a scheme to make his money. Little did I know he was possible of breaking the law and committing federal offenses. And how could I know I would get suckered into this escapade? Of course I would, I am the 'brains'. Eddy felt that my brains should be fully exploited for this scheme, for his neck and our demeaning friendship to be saved; so he asked me to build a machine to make money.
No reason would be heard, even if it was so I could avoid jail time. Sometimes I really hate him. There was no chance for me to even decline before he played every guilt card you could ever think of, regardless if it fit the situation. "Double D, you don't love me. How could you just leave me with this baby? Fuck you! Wait! I'm sorry! Please come back to me. It can be like it used to be. Just us fuckin' in tha back room. You'd help me if you were a good friend." He whined in his squeaky barely pubescent voice. And I have never fucked Eddy. Or anything remotely close.
"What did you have in mind?" I questioned, regret filled my throat as I realized this could not end well. A plan of ill-logics was muttered to me from his spewing plain. I started to laugh my ass off as he told me he wanted a device that could turn paper into money. And print his face onto these bills! "This will never work!" I cawed. Then he shoved detailed plans of a fax type machine in my face and told me to build.
"Build your fucking ass off sock head" He swore at me. Eddy has so much shit coming to him, and he deserves every bit of it.
"Fine. Slave driver" I muttered. Turning on some music, I started to work in my cramped shed.
This time the bullet cold rocked ya
A yellow ribbon instead of a Swastika
Nothin' proper about ya propaganda
Fools follow rules when the set commands ya
Said it was blue
When ya blood was read
That's how ya got a bullet
Blasted through ya head
Blasted through ya head
Blasted through ya head
I give a shout out to the living dead
Who stood and watched as the feds cold centralized
So serene on the screen you were mesmerized
Cellular phones soundin' a death tone
Corporations cold turn ya to stone before ya realize
They load the clip in omnicolour, said they pack the nine
Like sleeping gas, every home was like Alcatraz
And mutha fuckers lost their minds
Just victims of the in house drive by
They say jump, you say how high
Just victims of the in house drive by
They say jump, you say how high
Just victims of the in house drive by
They say jump, you say how high
Just victims of the in house drive by
They say jump, you say how high
Checka they load the clip in omnicolour
Said they pack the nine, they fire it at prime time
Like sleeping gas, every home was like Alcatraz
And mutha fuckers lost their minds
And no escape from the mass mind rape
Play it again jack and then rewind the tape
And then play it again and again and again
Until ya mind is locked in
Believin' all the lies that they're tellin' ya
They say jump and ya say
"How high ya brain dead"
Ya gotta fuckin' bullet in ya head
I finished the weapon of irritation in under just four hours. A fax machine, several ink carriages, a salvaged fridge from the junk yard and a Playstation 2 sacrificed themselves to build a machine of capitalistic evil. It appeared as a type of laser gun with a printer attached to the side.
With great Irony, I realized what this machine could do for me: it could get me the friends I always wanted. With a new hat and new clothes, hell, new attitude, I could have all the new friends I want. I could have anything. And be rid of Eddy.
Knock! Knock! The door to my shed swung open to reveal a greed drunk Eddy with a chicken endowed Ed. "Is it finished yet?" Eddy mawed. Nevertheless, before I could answer, he yanked the cursed item out of my hands. "Oooh. Looks cool sock head" he purrs. "I think I'll give it a test run…"
"Eddy! No! I haven't tes-" but before I could get the words out, he fired at a piece of paper on the table, leaving the room in ruins.
Now by tha power invested in me by tha great divine Cats, I command you:
Review!