Obligatory disclaimer: I do not own this HSR; I do not own it in a car. I do not own the characters; not Bubs, StrongMad or the teenage girls. I will not own this site, no man; I do not own it, Sam-I-Am.
Disclaimer (diss-CLAIM-er) n. A bunch of words telling you to do things you already know not to do. I.E.: Don't tape record this thing or else the FBI'll bust your kneecaps.
Okay...sorry...on to the non-funny part.
Our story starts out with four glasses of coffee—dark, light, cream, and a cappuccino. They were on the table of a man named Rondell.
Rondell was a large lump of a man. He always wore pretty much the same thing—a faded grey sweatshirt, dark yet faded grey sweatpants, cracked running shoes caked in a layer of grime. He had squinty grey eyes, and deeply pale skin, which often shimmered under the dim light of the single lightbulb hanging on the ceiling in his apartment building.
Rondell was a very lonely individual. Even though he did have a few friends, they didn't like him much. They always told him that he seemed ill at ease. He was actually ill at ease, and this was because he didn't know what he was ill at ease about. He always felt like he could never deal with the decisions of day to day life, and this was because he was so depressed and lonely. A good example was this day.
His squinty eyes shimmered and waved back and forth like made of liquid—or at least, that's what it looked like, seeing as he was looking through a glass of water.
His mind focused in on the glass of water—the rippling waves slowly rolling over the surface, so small they were nearly undetectable, as the shapes of everything on the other side of the glass swirled around like a Van Gogh painting.
But Rondell didn't focus on the images behind the water; he focused on the water itself. It was not any actual colour, but a mixture of all the colours. But it was not white—or any colour—it was a new colour. It was the colour of infinity.
He couldn't decide what to drink. Dark coffee, light coffee, cream coffee, a cappuccino, or a glass of water. They were all quite good drinks, but he didn't know which one to have, which made him quite confused. He also found that he had bought all the drinks instead of just thinking it over in his head. This confused him even more. He also found that since he didn't have time to drink all the drinks, and he only had time to drink one, when he got back, he would still have four drinks left, all of them having gone bad. This confused him even more. He also found that he had wasted all this time wondering which one to drink. This confused him even more. And all this confusion weighed down on him in his mind, and he felt it was too much to comprehend.
He suddenly felt the ultimate loneliness of life as the decisions of day to day life came crashing down on him.
And this was only breakfast.
Rondell reached down and pressed one of the buttons on the dashboard.
Rondell's eyes flickered as the glowing letters flashed across the screen of the ATM, and he felt as if laser radiation was shooting into his retinas.
CHECK BALANCE?
CHECK BALANCE?
Rondell squinted his eyes.
He turned to his side and saw a roll of tape flying through the air. It was a strip of film tape, and on the other side of the tape was just white space, like he was just the image on a roll of film, and beyond the edge of the strip was nothing, coming up as white space on the projector. He watched the tape for a few seconds.
Just the hallucinations, he thought.
Andthen he turned back to the ATM.
CHECK BALANCE?
CHECK BALANCE?
CHECK BALANCE?