To those of us who are less Mentally able than the rest: I am not the creator of these characters. I just find them wildly amusing to torture and fill with strange feelings.

Whoa! Half of this chapter was actually written when in the daytime! Unlike most of my previous stories/chapters/whatever! Behold the product of semi-coherent thinking!

Chapter Three, Part 1: I am NOT Crazy!

Devi paced her room, waving her hands in the air dangerously. " I am not going crazy, Ian!" She shrieked into the phone she was holding. " I know I keep seeing him, and I know I saw him in that hair salon right before that … that massacre."

" Look, Devi." Ian replied. " It's natural to project your own discomforts at something that really annoys you. In your case, Johnny… we are all shocked by the events at the hair salon, but we cannot let it bring us down."

" I couldn't care less about the events." She said. " It's Johnny – that's what I care about – the fact that I'm seeing him. And the fact that he's killing all these people!"

" Devi, I seriously doubt he's still around. Didn't the cops say that he wasn't home when they tried to investigate the whole neighbor's-house-burned-down bit?" Ian asked. " It just sounds to me like you're very upset about small things, and you like to blame them on things that are very human to you, instead of feeling that they could have just been fate."

" Sometimes I just hate you and your stupid Psychology major!" Devi slammed the phone down, seething. She turned and glared at Tenna, who had just entered the room.

" What's going on?" Tenna asked.

" NOTHING! I am just going absolutely insane! Maybe I should just shave my head bald and blow half the world away and get it over with!" Devi shouted.

" Whoa." Tenna blinked in surprise. " You should sit down, okay? Here." She handed Devi a cup of coffee. " Just relax and talk to me, girl."

" I hate Johnny!" Devi spat. " He's ruining everything for me, all over again!"

" Maybe there's a reason why he keeps bouncing back to you like this." Tenna pointed out.

Devi shook her head. " I seriously hope not. If I have to see him for the rest of my life, I swear, I…" Devi's hands shook and she took a long luxurious sip of coffee. Immediately her insides melted into a much calmer state. The author also likes coffee, and is drinking it right now. Revel in the author's happiness. Revel, damn you!

o-o-o

Meanwhile…

o-o-o

Meet Arnold, age 34. He is a very calm, rational man. But sometimes, things go a bit wrong in his world…

Arnold woke up, blinking. He ran to the bathroom, yanked his pants down, and then kicked the door shut with his leg. His wife, Maude, watched from the bed in a fond silence.

" Oh, my GOD!" Arnold screamed suddenly. " Honey, did we have corn yesterday?"

Maude blinked. " Uh…"

" Shit! Those are teeth! There's teeth in my crap!" Arnold shrieked.

" Are you sure?" Maude whispered, frightened. She pulled the covers over her head in fear. " This is all because of those burritos you choose to eat!"

Arnold gasped. " Holy fuck-a-mole! I think my shit's spawning with the water! It's… aHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!"

Maude jumped from her bed and ran into the bathroom. She saw Arnold on his knees, his head shoved into the toilet bowl.

" Oh my God!" Maude grabbed him and pulled him back. " Are you okay?"

Arnold looked up. The toilet bowl was empty. He laughed, toilet bowl water dripping down his face, and said: "Made you look!"

Um… So how was YOUR week?

o-o-o

Chapter 3, Part 2: Crossroads

Johnny glanced wearily around her room. He could feel the very impulse of thoughts that rocked through him, the anger was a warm, tingling feeling, while the pain and sadness was more of a rocking, shivering sort of feeling, a quiver in his stomach. He had never received such a terrific mixed message as the one he got from Devi. He was trying to figure out whether she was possibly insane now, or if she had forgiven him, or if his reappearance has woken up some primitive, vapid attraction towards him. He hoped that she was just insane, because he didn't need this extra distraction.

Reverend Meat smirked at him from the shelf he sat on. " A slave to your emotions, aren't you?" The psychotic little boy asked.

Johnny shrank away from his sight. " Why are there still voices?" He whispered to himself. " The wall's gone. There's nothing to control me but… me."

" Oh, isn't that just precious?" Reverend Meat sneered. " You know why you created me though. I'm the part of your mind that wants you to enjoy the chains of emotions. To feel the caress of love, the tightened grasp of hate."

" But…" He blinked uncertainly. " I don't want you to be here."

" Ah, yes." Reverend Meat shook his head. " So corrupt you felt, so in need to put yourself back together. Yet you missed the most important part of all – your mind. You could never piece together the different areas of fragmentation in your mind. They are but shards, jostling one another. You can never free yourself from it, your clashing thoughts would rip you apart. It is much easier to assign your different sides to inanimate objects and to argue with them. May the strongest one win, so to speak."

" I despise you." Johnny replied. " I don't need you."

" You need me." Reverend Meat grinned. " I am your true contact with the world. Remember when I told you that you are always a slave to something? Well, you are a slave to a feeling inside. It's holding you back."

" You lie." Johnny spat.

" Ah, you will soon learn what it is that grinds against you inside. You will never be able to fool yourself into being truly inept of emotion. For you have a very simple yet strong feeling embedded in you." Reverend Meat said, the conniver he was.

" Damn it, that's not true!"

" IT IS!" Reverend Meat shouted. " You resist it because you know it's there!"

Johnny shivered. " Then I'll destroy it. Tell me how to destroy it!"

" Kill Devi. Kill the one who you cannot forget. She holds you back mercilessly."

" What?" Johnny's face blanched.

" Her fingers have twisted deep inside of you. You tried to get away from her, didn't you? You had almost hoped she'd move on, find someone else, be happy. And she has. But you aren't satisfied. When you came back, you were furious. You began to kill again." Reverend Meat grinned meanly.

" No!" Johnny shouted. " I started killing again because I… I needed to."

" You aren't a waste lock any longer. You can off yourself and die forever."

" I don't know if I believe that." Johnny said. " I don't know what I believe."

" You don't need to kill. You desire to kill." Reverend Meat grinned. " You like it. You don't do it for the reasons a spider slaughters its flies mercilessly. You don't do it like a cockroach that devours its ant prey. You do it because it gives you a momentary euphoria, a release from your own pain."

Johnny shook his head silently.

" But it hurts now, doesn't it? It doesn't give you the soothing it once had. So now you feel like killing more would fix it. Just like a drug. You grow tolerant, so you take a higher dose, and a higher dose." Reverend Meat chuckled. " You do know that, after losing the flusher status, you're open meat to the police? They can find you. You will keep killing, and then they'll find you."

" No!" Johnny shouted.

" But you know why you felt guilty after your latest kill?" Reverend Meat laughed menacingly. "Your feelings. The very things you wish to destroy are actually going to destroy you."

" There are no feelings!" Johnny spat. " You're lying to me. You're being like the Doughboys. You want me to believe you, you want me to become some mindless drone of society, to succumb to what they all want…" He motioned out the window. " They want people like me to lie low, to become geeks. But I will not sit back and let assholes torture us into the pits of our own gloom!"

The author trembles at the onslaught of poetic speech and goes to make coffee, returning after two hours of night time TV.

By now Johnny was pacing the room and waving his hands madly, his eyes wide. " I am not going to become another lost, briefcase-toting loser, sipping coffee in the dark corners of Moonbuck's and scratching my ass on the morning train! I don't care for the satisfaction of having assholes working below me, or cleaning my car, as is promised to all us smart ones. I don't care for it! I care for revenge! You think they still don't laugh at us as they polish the spokes of our Mercedes-Benz?"

Reverend Meat shook his head. " You disillusion yourself. You make people jeer you more by being a psychopath. Later on they will find you and lock you away like an animal in a zoo. People will visit you, reporters will want to speak with you. You'll be a spectacle to a world of assholes."

" NO!" Johnny shouted.

Reverend Meat smiled. " You have two choices, a very difficult crossroad. You must choose."

" Tell me my choices." Johnny said.

" You can kill the one who has wormed into you, the one who makes you yearn for human things like arousal and friendship. Devi is what makes you feel the guilt. She was the only human you truly bonded with, you truly had contact with, other than the little boy. It is senseless to deny the existence of your feelings for her."

Johnny shook his head. " So I have to kill her?"

" Or…" Reverend Meat grinned maniacally. " You must subdue yourself."

" Never."

" You have to allow yourself to accept your feelings. No longer combat your feelings for Devi. You must learn to accept that you are not a born killer. You have been forced into it, squeezed into a mold, because of assholes. Don't you see that, in a sense, the thing you are doing is something assholes force you to do? Do you wish to spend your life carrying out the wish of the assholes? For, technically, they were the ones who forced you to murdering them. They are the ones who ask for it. Do you want to be a machine, a drone to them? Or do you want to be a solitary man? Separate yourself from society? Enjoy quiet nights in front of a fireplace with, dare I say, Devi, discussing art and movies?"

Johnny shook his head. " Either way I feel like I'm succumbing to assholes." He looked up, his face dark with fury. " No, I would much rather feel no guilt. I don't need emotions. I have though about it for a long time. Consequences be what they may, I don't want to live my life on a what-if principle. What if I get caught? What if I slip up? I don't care! Then it was meant to be! But I want my sweet revenge now." Johnny hissed hotly.

" So you choose the way of murder." Reverend Meat said sadly. " You are willing to kill the only one you are capable of loving."

" If that's the only way…" Johnny's eyes narrowed. " So be it."

o-o-o

Happy Noodle Boy

o-o-o

Noodle Boy was kneeling on the floor in front of the Senate. " Do not kill the Turkey King of the sporks!" Noodle Boy shrieked at a Senator that was happening to walk by. " Feed my eyeballs with the mucus that drips from your toadish hair!"

The Senator balked and ran away.

Happy Noodle Boy grinned cruelly and shouted on: " Shave your sphincters and prepare for my tweezers of doom! Pass Law 1022 – Freedom for Penguin Livers!"

Just then a little girl walked by.

" STOP! Stop, Wilma of the flying baboons! I desire to suckle on the teat of your wisdom!" Happy Noodle Boy shrieked.

" Huh?" The little girl asked.

" Tough titty said the kitty, but the milk's still sweet!" Happy Noodle Boy shrieked. " STILL SWEET, Gawd dammit! STILL SWEET!"

" Uh…"

" In accordance with the prophecy, we must all flush our toilets simultaneously as the population of Asia jumps to the moon!" Happy Noodle Boy shrieked. " We must not let them create an earthquake! Quick! Cut off the legs of anything you see!"

The little girl patted his head. " You need to eat something, don't you?" She handed him a hamburger.

" EGADS! You think your shriveled raisins will please my hungry nads?"

" I gotta go." The little girl whispered.

" Remember what I told you! One day, your nose hair will freeze, but you will know what to do! You will turn to your children and tell them that, due to the economy, one of them must be fed to the Russians! THE RUSSIANS!" Happy Noodle Boy screamed.

The little girl pulled out a silenced PP7 form beneath her skirt and shot the crap out of Happy Noodle Boy.

Subliminal Message: Beware of what is under little girl's skirts.

o-o-o

Chapter 3, Part 3: Don't Hang Up!

Johnny lifted up the phone and dialed. He listened as the ringing played over and over a few times. Finally, the phone was picked up. Devi's voice.

" Devi." He said, softly. You will kill her. You do not feel emotions for her. Reverend Meat is not right, you are the only one who knows the truth about what you feel.

" Johnny?" She exclaimed. " Johnny? Is that you?"

" It is." His voice dropped a few notches to a low grumble. " I was wondering if…"

" Oh, God!" She cried out. " God, I was hoping you were dead. I kept seeing ghostly visions of you. Now I'm hearing you. You have to be alive." She began to shout: " Why couldn't you just die?"

" It's not that easy." Johnny replied. He was breathing uncomfortably. Damn it, why can't my lungs function properly when I need them to strangle out an important message most?

" Stop breathing like that." She warned. " Damn it, just stop breathing, period. I don't know where you just popped out of, but it seems like you can't die. You just explode out of nowhere, like a fucking daisy. I just - - I - - my life was shit for so long because of you. I'm finally happy, so please, please leave me alone. If you have any human left in you, just do that for me."

" I…" He squeezed the phone cord angrily, pretending it was the neck of some poor asshole. He truly felt like strangling something all of a sudden.

" Johnny." She whispered. " You were such a nice guy, too. I thought you were perfect. The best out of all of them, by far. Why'd you do it? Why mess up a person otherwise so great by being a homicidal maniac?" She said.

" You couldn't understand." Johnny said. " Nobody could ever understand what I went through."

" Damn it. I hate you." Devi shouted. He had to hold the phone away from his ear.

" Can't… can't we meet and try again?" Johnny suggested.

" What?" Devi exclaimed, laughing bitterly. " Do you think I'm crazy?"

" I'd love to try again." Johnny felt the lies stinging his tongue. He hated the fact he was lying. He had never killed so underhandedly, so cruelly before. But it felt so necessary and yet so terrible at the same time, a delicious sin, like dark chocolate. He had to convince her he meant well. Somehow, they had to meet again, so he could finish what he began last time. So he could end that dawning feeling.

" Stop messing with my mind!"

" Please, don't hang up!" He shouted back.

" I hate you!" The phone clacked down and then there was silence.

Johnny slumped against the kitchen wall, staring at his feet in silence. " I've never been one to carry a good phone conversation." He said, finally, to nobody in particular. " Must have gone out of touch with the whole thing."

He turned away from the dim candle on the table. He lifted up a plate that held some wizened apple slices. Chewing one sadly, Johnny sat down on the couch and turned the television on.

Women Who Think Fruit Are Aphrodisiacs, And MEN Who Go Bananas to Please Them!

Some poor chap was saying that he painted his nut sack to look like an apple.

Johnny grinned darkly. It was always comforting to know that you could be worse off.

Author's Creepy Subliminal Message: Review! I feel that my story sucks because I am getting so few reviews! *bangs fist on keyboard, keyboard splits in half, and hand is bleeding severely* Damn it, that was my 4th hand! And my 10th keyboard!