CHAPTER 5- STANLEY'S SCRAP SHOP

The next day, I left the debris of my former home and brought the letter with me back to the dumps where Stanley works. I went in the store where he sells the recycled goods processed from garbage. Stanley himself was manning the counter that day along with another fish.

"Hello?" I said.

"What can I do for you Sir?" Stanley replied. "Wait? Who's this? Is this some kind of a joke?"

"I'm down here! Look down!"

"Oh! A moving piece of paper!"

"There's someone holding the piece of paper!" I shouted angrily.

Stanley went out of the counter area and sat on the floor. Even if he did just that, his tall, slender figure still seemed to impose itself upon me.

"Oh. I'm sorry about that. So, what can I do for you, Sir?"

"Since I heard that you ruin almost everything you touch, can I enter the factory, jump into the pool of garbage, and get processed into something more useful? Throughout my life, I've felt nothing but bitterness and failure. I'm no different from the garbage piles you process in your factory. Nobody needs me. In all these years, I've done nothing."

"Well, neither have I. You are right. I do ruin everything I touch, but I soon discovered that I can make a living out of it by processing garbage, and just look at how big the factory is now. What I would do is to simply touch the garbage as soon as they are dumped into a huge bucket and get them sent off to the nearby machines to process them into the stuff I sell here. And I can assure you that everything here is safe to use and is sold for reasonable prices. Sandy made me these special 'ruin-proof' gloves that I wear when I would man the counter."

"You didn't answer my question. All you did is to advertise your successful business," I replied with a bitter tone in my voice.

"I was just about to get to that part," Stanley continued. "No, we don't allow living creatures to jump into the garbage pool and get processed no matter how much they consider themselves as garbage. My point with whatever I said a while ago is that you choose how you react to the painful truths in your life and how, in the end, you use them to turn your sad life around."

"Dude, I'd like to buy this hat," a customer said, interrupting Stanley.

"That would be $3.99," Stanley replied. "Just pay for that to Dale, over there. I'm kinda busy here."

"Thanks, man," the customer said as he gave the money to Dale, other guy who was manning the register.

"Sorry about that," Stanley continued. "However, if you intend to throw away the paper you're holding, that would be absolutely free of charge. Useless love letters? Gifts from a former lover? Debris from breaking stuff during that last fit of rage? Used toilet paper? Bring them all to me and I will destroy them all for you. They will be completely forgotten once they have been processed into completely different products."

"Okay, that's good enough," I replied. I handed over the note from Karen and watched it go down in flames as soon as Stanley took off his gloves and touched the letter. "Wait, why didn't you include that in the processing pool? Why let it just burn to ashes?"

"Tough love," Stanley replied as the last of the note turned into ash. "You must be so bitter because your wife left you. I'm just sure you would enjoy seeing this note burnt down to ashes instead of being mass-processed with other pieces of garbage."

"There's more to my depression than just that. Goodbye, Stanley," I said with a tone of despair.

"Man, poor guy. I hope he doesn't do anything to himself..." Stanley said softly as he went back to the counter area.

I walked out of the store and just went through the holes of the factory fence. I sneaked into the garbage pile that is about to be processed. I didn't even mind the stench anymore because it will be gone soon. There's no more turning back. Besides, there is nothing to turn back to anyway. Here goes nothing...

"Garbage pile will be processed in three... Two... One..."

A sudden glow of red, fiery light blinded me. I felt a burning pain like no other in my life. My already feeble body is being further disintegrated by the intense heat. There was nothing but pain, silence, and darkness.

After what seemed to be about an hour, the pain was completely gone. I felt like I was floating in the middle of pitch-black nothingness. For the first time in my life, I felt truly free, although I'm not exactly sure if I'm still alive, if this is some form of trance, or if I've finally passed on. I floated about in all sorts of directions and moved freely. I felt like I could fly and do whatever I want, only without me being able to see any color other than black, but that was okay.

A glowing, green cube suddenly appeared right in front of me. I flew towards the mysterious bright object floating about in the nothingness. Before I was able to touch it, another one of those glowing green cubes appeared. More and more of them appeared until I realized that I was aboard a floating green ship that materialized in this strange dimension.

"Mr. Sheldon James Plankton!" a thunderous, eerie voice cut through the silence as a cloud of green dust surrounded me. The fog soon cleared up and showed The Flying Dutchman. "You have chosen to come here to this place of eternal sleep. It's now time for me to transport you to your final destination: Davy Jones's Locker."

The Flying Dutchman opened a portal that led to the cavern which must be his living quarters. It had a rocking chair, an end table, a shelf full of knickknacks and a locker which must be Davy Jones's Locker. He opened the locker. Screaming voices of souls in anguish filled the air along with the putrid smell of gym socks that were never washed in what seemed to be over a hundred years.

"Get in or else I'll have to push you inside," The Flying Dutchman said as he pointed to the interior of the locker. "Accept it, puny creature; you have imposed this fate upon yourself. You should have known the price of your depraved deeds."