Silent Hill 4 – The Ridiculously Cramped, Cheap Living Space
1 – Preppy, Trippy Things In Room 30002
Let's give this a shot I say. Besides, I love doing parodies. It's fun. Yay!
Disclaimer: I do not own Silent Hill 4 or any of the characters, plot elements, etc; I do not intend to offend anyone, but jokes may be made and language will be used that may offend certain people. These are not intended to be hurtful or discriminatory, just funny. It's okay, if you hate me you can call me a faggot, because I'm gay.
Also, at her request, I have been asked to include a disclaimer for my friend xXPiroXx or something like that because a lot of these jokes as well as some of the inspiration for them came from her, cuz she's just a funny person like that. (there, are you happy?)
Also, I do not own Paris Hilton or Saw. There. (You'll find out what that's all about later.)
So it's all good. Now let the fun begin!
---
It was 5,000 years and exactly one second ago that Henry Townshend moved into room 30002 of South Ashshit Heights.
No wait, JUST KIDDING! It was actually about 5,001 years ago… no, wait that isn't right either.
Ha.
It was 1 and three quarter years ago that Henry Townshend moved into room 30002 of South Ashshit Heights. Finally, got it right!
Henry was escaping a fairly shitty life, and hoping for a new start by moving into this apartment, which later turned out to be pretty shitty. And then things got shittier. Surprisingly, none of this shitty situation stank in the slightest. JUST KIDDING!
Anyways, about three days ago he started having this really shitty dream that was full of shit. It always ended in the same way too – with Henry shitting his pants. JUST KIDDING! (Wow that's getting annoying, isn't it?) JUST KIDDING! (Ha, I rockz, wats up now, pi pwnz u all!)
Anyways, the dream always ended the same way – with Henry waking up. And then shitting his pants. JUST KIDDING! No, actually it always ended with him just waking up. Oh come on, what did you expect!? That's how all dreams end, dumbass! Tell me you don't wake up at the end of your dreams. That's right. That's what I thought.
And there was one other shitty thing.
He couldn't leave Room 30002.
---
Henry woke up with a start. He sat up on the edge of his bed and rubbed his head. He had a pretty rad hangover from his bout of drinking the night before. "Jesus, what a dream… that apartment was so ugly… there's no way it could ever be mine. The colors were so drab and I mean, like, there wasn't even any coordination. Gosh, omg."
The room in the dream had, in fact, been quite ugly and, in fact, had no sense of color coordination. Gosh. OMG. Anyways, Henry got up off his bed slowly and sighed. "I miss having electricity. If I had electricity, then I could freakin' watch kelly likes shoes on youtube like omg! It's my favey video EVA!"
He then stood up and began prancing around his bedroom while reciting said video. Thank god no one outside of his apartment could hear him.
"Shoes. Shoes. Omigod, shoes. Let's get some shoes. Let's get some shoes. Let's get some shoes. Let's get some shoes. Shoes. Shoes. Oh…My…God… shoes. These shoes rule… these shoes suck…"
At this point midway through reciting "Shoes" he stopped, dug through his closet, and pulled out a gorgeous pair of pointed-toe stiletto heels, donned said shoes, and began vogue-model walking around his apartment.
"These shoes rule, these shoes SUCK! I think you have too many shoes... SHUTUP! I think you have too many shoes... SHUTUP! I think you have too many shoes... SHUTUP! I think you have too many shoes... SHUTUP! Stupid boy. Stupid boy. Let's get some shoes... let's party."
//DANCE BREAK!//
At this point Henry started doing the robot and singing electronic music. This all continued for about an hour. JUST KIDDING! Not. He eventually caught sight of himself in a full-length mirror that randomly appeared hanging in the hallway leading to his bedroom. He froze when he saw his reflection. His face turned red, and the veins in his forehead began to bulge. He ripped off the heels in a rage, stomped down to his bedroom, and launched them at the far wall, sticking the very end of the heels in the wall, leaving the shoes dangling. He then threw himself on his bed, let out a vicious scream, and began to have a tantrum.
He began beating his pillows with his fists, screaming, crying, and wailing. He even imitated 'Tourettes Guy' and screamed such oddities as "BOB SAGIT!" and "BITCH! I LOVE YOU!" It got even weirder when he began letting out cries like this one: "FUCK ME HARDER! YES! PISS! SHIT! ORGASM! FUCK! OH YEAH, ORGASM!"
This continued for about another hour.
Anyways, he finally got over it and left his bedroom, walked down the hall, and went to his front door and started bitching about the chains that were still draped over it. The old, rust covered chains had been impeding Henry from leaving his apartment for three days now. "You stupid chains…" he said. "You like, totally DO NOT match the decorum of my apartment, okay? You're like, really pissing me off, okay, because uh, my apartment has to be fabulous, and you are not. Okay? So like, just go away."
They didn't.
"YOU WHORE!" he screamed at them.
Then, as if in answer, a message, written in what looked like red sharpie appeared scrawled on the door. It said:
LOLZ WATS UP DUDE, LIKE I'M NOT A wh0re SO LIK3S GO AWAY WITH ALL OF THAT SHIT, HOMIE CUZ LIKE I'M TALKING LIKE A PREPPY BLACK GIRL SO JUST GO SOM3WHERE WIT YOU BAD SELF, LIKE YA. OH BTW DNT G0 0utS d00d.
- WALTIZZLE.
"…"
He then ran back to the bedroom, threw himself upon his bed yet again and began to sob uncontrollably. This went on for about an hour. Yes, this mans sense of time was impeccably perfect.
Anyways, he finally shut up with his wailing and walked past his front door into the kitchen area. He stood in the center of his kitchen on the perfectly white kitchen tile. "I'm hungry. But I'm not. I should eat. But I'm not hungry. So I'm not going too."
This went on for about an hour as well. So he's a dumbass for standing around for hours saying exactly nothing.
Finally he strolled back into his living room, and plopped down onto his couch.
"This totally sucks. It's so ghey. I need like, a celebrity to be here with me to keep me company."
Things had been very, very weird around his apartment for these few days. And he felt like things were getting really... preppy. He had started using the word like, and started liking people like Paris Hilton. It was strange. He even dug out a pair or two of his old hata-blockas from High School. And his old clothes from places like American Fox, Hollishit, and Abersucky. It was really scary.
His phone rang.
"O-M-G! Maybe it's like, a celebrity! It just better not be like, a telemarketer or something stupid like that. Like. Like. Ya. Like."
Why does he even bother to speak anyways? He walked back to his bedroom and picked up the receiver.
"HELLOOOOO!" he said with a British accent reminiscent of the SuperNanny.
"… Fuck this." Said the voice on the other line.
"Ha. That works every time." He said. "But wait… what if it was a celebrity...? I would have scared them off..." he stood silent for about five minutes, staring at the floor.
"SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT FUCK SHIT FUCK SHIT FUCK SHIT FUCK SHIT FUCK SHIT!"
His screaming echoed throughout his apartment. He began walking back toward the kitchen, when the phone rang again.
He whirled around and put his right hand on his hip. "Okay, seriously. No." he said, then snapped the fingers on his left hand three times in midair. "MMM MMM girlfriend!" Sadly, he even involved the neck movement in this disturbing display of body language.
He then gave in and went to answer the phone again. He sat down on the edge of his bed and slowly picked up the receiver.
"Hello Henry. I want to play a game. You have spent all your life watching others, namely Eileen Galvin, hoping she would rape you. And now, I want to play a game with you. I'm going to watch you, and hope you will rape me. LOLZ, no, JUST KIDDING! No, actually I'm just going to watch you be bored out of your mind in that shitty little shithole of a shitty little apartment that you are currently chained into. Ha. Haha. Chains. Sounds kinky. Anyways, it should be good for LOLZ. Bye now."
The line went dead.
"BOO YOU WHORE!" he said as he slammed the phone down.
"I never even liked that movie. It was stupid. Stupid Saw. Stupid Saw. Stupid everything. STUPID PHONE! STUPID ROOM! PORQUE!!!???" he screamed, as he got down on his knees and pumped his fists into the air.
"POR-QUE!??!" he screamed again.
"JUST KIDDING!" he said as he jumped up and sat back down on the edge of his bed. He picked up the receiver again, and there was no dial tone.
"WTF MATE!" he said. "That's ghey."
He hung up the phone. And said phone subsequently rang. Again. And Again. And Again. And Again. And Again. And again and again and again and againandagainandagain until he finally picked it up. Which took about an hour, again. And again. And again. JUST KIDDING!
He picked up the receiver and put it up to his ear.
"Hello, this is Paris Hilton. Is Henry Townshend there? I'm really horny and I need to fuck somebody. Oh and do you have any drugs? I was told you might… so like, ya."
Henry's jaw dropped and he started panting. "Finally, a celebrity! OMG!" he said to himself.
"What was that?" she said. "Is that you, Henry?"
"Yes, it's me. You can come over anytime you want, baby. Except… I have a small problem… my apartment is locked from the inside, there's like, chains covering the door and shit. It's pretty freaky."
"OH YEAH! That happened to me once. I was just tripping. But I was fucking scared, like, it was so intense! Random writing started appearing on my door in red sharpie, and I started dancing around to Shoes, you know, that video shoes, on youtube?"
"YEAH, LIKE OMG THAT'S MY FAVEY!" he screamed.
"Oh I know, it's like, so totally awesome. Anyways, well, ya, that happened to me. So don't sweat it. Just give me a call when the chains finally disappear, okay? Bye!"
"Wai- wait NO! NOOOOOOOO! Don't go!" he screamed. "You didn't even give me your number, you stupid bimbo… RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!"
He began screaming and beating on his pillows again. "Stupid preppiness! I'm being swallowed by preppiness!" he wailed.
The phone began ringing again, and when it did he instantly stopped.
"Paris?" he said. "PARIS!!!???? PARISPARISPARISPARISPARISPARISPARIS! YAAAY!"
He picked up the phone. "Oh my God, Paris, I know, you like, totally forgot to give me your number, it's okay, honey, you can't help that you're an attention-loving bimbo, it's okay you stupid whore."
"Help… me…"
"Haha. That's what shesaid"
"HELP ME FUCKFACE!" the voice on the other end screamed. The phone made some strange electronic noises, then the line went dead.
"Fine, bitch! Fuck you, you snotty little whore! I hate your hair color anyways, it's fuckin' ugly." He slammed the receiver down and stomped back to his living room and plopped down on his couch. He had a strange feeling that that hadn't been Paris calling back. It might have had something to do with the fact that the two voices sounded nothing alike, but hey, Henry was a dumbass.
He sat there and stared at his reflection in the blank TV screen for a few minutes. He heard a commotion out in the hallway, so he got up and went to his still chained-up door. He looked out the peephole and saw Eileen Galvin from the apartment next to his struggling with a spilled bag of groceries.
"… This is ghey. I don't understand. Why do they insist on giving you paper when you don't ask for either? Stupid paper. Paper is ghey. I mean, STFU NOOB! JUST KIDDING!"
"Haha. She said 'paper'" Henry muttered stupidly, not even noticing that she had stolen his catchphrase. Dumbass.
She finally got all over her groceries back into her two paper bags. "Well, I'm glad no-one stopped to help with my bags of 'groceries' because, goodness, who knows what else could be in the bottom of these bags…" she said as she walked to her front door, and out of Henry's line of sight.
"Yes, honey, indeed… who knows…?" he said. "Wait, is she referring to illegal things…? Drugs, perhaps?" He trailed off in thought. "Because if she is, I want some. Haha. She did say 'paper'. Haha. Freakin' stoner."
He began to turn around and walk away from the door when he noticed a small piece of red paper stuck under his door.
"WTF…" he said. He picked it up, and read it. It was all dirty and smudged, but the writing on it was still legible. It looked like black sharpie.
M0m, WAKES… UP, PLZ! I …CaN f33LZ THEM CmING 4… M33Z… WAKE UP!1234567891!11
"… That bitch is a fuckin' stoner. She must be retarded. How the hell am I her mom? She's older than I am, fucking whore. Her and Paris should get together and go bowling." He said as he crumpled up the note and threw it over his back. He walked into his kitchen and opened up the refrigerator to see what was inside, when he heard a loud crash from what seemed to be his bathroom.
"Who's in my bathroom?" he said. "Haha. That's what SHE SAID!" He said as he burst out laughing maniacally. He kept laughing, and fell onto the floor. This continued for about an hour. JUST KIDDING!
He finally got up to go inspect that strange noise that had come from his bathroom. "Haha, there was an explosion in my bathroom. Haha!" he said stupidly to himself as he walked down the hall. He opened the bathroom door, and found a rather large hole in his bathroom wall. Dust filled the air, and pipes and tile and other random construction materials were scattered all over. It looked as if someone had lit a stick of dynamite in a (considerably smaller) hole in the wall.
A pipe hanging down from the top of the hole was loose, and dripping water, and that was bothering Henry, so he ripped it off.
"Oh, this is fucking awesome. Now I can be… what's that word… oh that's right, hard! Now I'm fucking ghetto, and hard and shit." He said. "Oh wait. Haha. I said, 'hard'. Haha. No, that's what SHE SAID!" he screamed as he began to laugh maniacally again. He stopped abruptly, and then got serious.
"Okay, Henry. This is it. I can finally get out of this shit-ass apartment. Are you ready?" he asked himself. "No, I'm not." He threw down the pipe and ran to his bedroom. "I need a nap first." He said as he vaulted onto his bed and fell asleep.
---
He had the same dream as all the times before. His apartment was all rusty and brown. Literally shitty. He had wondered the other times that he had this dream if it really was shit stains all over everything. Oh well.
In the dream he was walking around his 'shitty' apartment. Everything was old, and broken, and there was no front door anymore. No chains, but no door, either. "That's ghey." He said to himself in the dream. He walked over by his living room and his couch, when he noticed something strange. There was a face in his wall. At least, that's what it looked like.
He walked over to it and started poking it. "Who the hell are you? Seriously, get out of my apartment, shitty as it may be."
Surprisingly, the face came alive and said something to him. "Who in the hell are you talkin' too like that?" came the voice of a woman who reminded Henry of Madea, the big, black southern woman in those funny movies.
"Oh shit, I pissed of a black woman," he said. "At least, I think…"
He was right. The head started coming out of the wall, and its body followed. It was actually a ghost of a black woman reminiscent of Madea, and carrying a purse. Soon it was all the way out of the wall and floating above his floor and began talking more shit to Henry. "Who in hell do you think you were talkin' too like that, boy? I sweat to god, I ain' lyin', I'll bust out my nine's right now and bust a cap in yo ass, swear to god I ain' lyin."
"Alright then!" he said. "WASSUP, BABY!" he began saying, imitating Madea in one of those aforementioned movies. He mocked having a gun in his hands and was crouching down. "WASS-UP, BA-BEEEE!"
"OH HELL NO. Ain't nothing up, but you about to go–" at this point the voice dropped about two octaves down, "-DOWN."
Henry stopped his charade abruptly, and drew himself back up to full height. "Oh shit."
"The-hell-you-talkin'-to-like-that…" the ghost began saying as she beat Henry with her purse as he fell to the floor, and blacked out as he was screeching like a little girl while continuing to be beat by the Madea ghost.
---
He jolted upright in bed, covered in a thick, sticky sweat. He somehow heard that description the author used and said, "Haha. He said, 'sticky.'" And chuckled under his breath.
"Wow. That dream was fuckin' trippy." He said as he climbed off his bed. "Fuckin trippy…"
He walked over to his window in his bedroom that looked out over the subway entrance and saw a hot chick standing near the entrance in a red, low-cut top he believed was called a 'tunic' and some hip-hugger, cigarette-cut jeans and a pair of red heels. How did he know so much about women's fashion, anyway? I don't know. Anyways, she was also smoking a cigarette, and looking around like a dumbass.
"Oh great, another stupid whore," he muttered. "Now there's three that'll be going bowling. Soon there'll be a team for God's sakes. Fucking Whore Ladies."
He left his bedroom, began to run, and dive-bombed face-first into his couch. He laid there for about an hour, like a lazy idiot. JUST KIDDING! Actually, he then remembered the giant hole in his bathroom and was just about to head back there when he noticed another red paper sticking out from behind his bookcase in his living room.
"Okay, whoever is doing this obviously knows that I HATE RED, AND IT'S PISSING ME OFF! IT'S THE UGLIEST FUCKING' COLOR EVER!" he said as he threw a pillow from his couch at the bookshelf, accomplishing nothing. "Argh…"
He got up off the couch and plucked the note from behind the bookshelf.
Through The Ritual of the Holy Preppiness, he built a world. It exists in a space separate from the also shitty world we know. More accurately, it is within, yet without said shitty world we live in. Unlike the world we know, it is a world in extreme flux, whatever that means. Unexpected doors or walls, moving floors, odd creatures, basically Paris Hilton's dreams when she's tripping. Minus the naked girls riding sexy men and the drunk driving. Oh, and the illegal drugs.
"Stupid whore." He said.
Anyone swallowed up by that world will live there for eternity…
"Haha. It said 'swallowed up'. Haha." He laughed.
And will be murdered repeatedly for laughing at 'swallowed up.'
"…"
That's right you dumbass. Anyways, they will be locked within that world, undying, horny, thirsty, hungry, and very, very high. They will be so screwed it's not even funny. How can our Lord forgive such a shitty, unfortunate set of circumstances?
There was a section where it was too blurry to read, but it became legible further down the page.
It is important to travel lightly in that world. So sorry, Shar Jackson or whatever her name is will not be admitted. Nor will Paris Hilton or Lindsay Lohan. It's not that they're fat, they're just bimbos. Fucking whores. They should all go bowling together. Anyways, he (or she) who carries too heavy a burden will regret it… because extra weight adds the risk of coronary heart disease, high blood pressure, etc; Ask your doctor about… Oh sorry. JUST KIDDING!
Anyways if you carry too much… stuff… you'll be really fucked. That would be really shitty. So yeah.
Oh, p.s. Only preppy, cool people are allowed. Duh.
"… wow. I think I need to go back to sleep." He let the note flutter to the floor. "Maybe this is all a giant trip. When was the last time I used? Maybe this is still a trip from that. Cuz this shit is fuckin' trippy. No joke."
He collapsed onto the couch again. (He's such a lazy bum!) He once again remembered the giant hole in his bathroom, jumped up, and ran down to said bathroom. He opened the door, and the hole was still there.
"Hmmmm… maybe there'll be some better celebrities through there. Maybe even Paris Hilton, just so I can beat the hell out of her. Stupid whore. And even if not, then there's go to be something more fun than sitting around in my shitty, trippy apartment… Hell maybe it's even trippier through there!"
A broad grin spread across his face at this. "Maybe, even… illegal drugs… LOLZ. MMMMMM…"
He grabbed the pipe that was still laying on the bathroom floor, climbed in the hole (XP) and began crawling toward the bright, white light at the end.
TO BE CONTINUED, LOLZ!