James. A Vignette.
A work, by Morbid Luvxxx.
Preface - Chapter II
I find it appalling that my story has only received a single review thus far. It outrages me greatly for I believe that the first chapter was an incredible and shocking slap to the face of the oh-so-bourgeoius fanfiction scene. I find it quite shocking that the superficial, bubblegum works of LiL TiiNk, Gandalf3213 and Starlight Gardenia are currently ranked above James. A Vignette, an epic which clearly blows their ilk to the canyons of artistic worthlessness. Where they no doubt belong, for their lack of skill is incredibly humorous to me. Indeed, even as of this moment I struggle resisting the temptation to burst out laughing at the aforementioned authors and their inepititude. Why, they should be banned outright from this website!
The audience needs an enema, and I'm going to give it to them. An enema of the mind, soul and gut. And here it is. Enjoy this second page in the chronicles of James. A Vignette. Sip in small doses please.
"Mom?"
I yawned sternly, breezily busting past my aching sores of mercy. Everything went round and I found that the best. Tommy would tell me that in university. I'd tell him he was a stupid dumb nitwit and then he'd hit me quite hard. Speaking of hard, Tommy was very much so.
The house was full of people making it empty. I saw Mum on her own in the midst of the living room atmosphere and ate her completely. "Didi" as the wibbles called her. "Bitch" as she became to me when I held a whip in the eager claws. Lying on the floor like a dog she exposes her warmth to me spiritually, which I then whip until moist and swollen red. I lick her philosophies and smile.
Toilets in the back, you say? I make my way there, eating all the Wotsits on the floor and murdering people illegally. It is in an attempt to make my way to the bathroom, where it smells like a horse's arse and eats people, but can be hospitable and contained in a folder. I put on my Good Charlotte cassette tape and bliss out to their Dionysian shambolism. Rebellious and brutal music. Picking up a torch with sharpness sticking out really far, I cut my wrists. This is really shocking and I hope Mum finds me so she can regret being such a crap parent even though she's awesome and I just like to cause a fuss. It's fun! But now I am dead.
5 years later.
"Tommy, wake up!" said Dil. "Hello Dil" I said to him smiling. He was a great brother and smelt of shit.
3 years previously.
Brooding cranial structure. He might not survive.
Billy Pickles.
Even as soon as birth, Billy was a special kid. And over the years this didn't change one bit; he had special counseling, went to a special school different from me and Dil, and took special medication as well. Another special thing that he experienced was incestual rape and castration by his cousin at the age of 3.
Angelica... We love you but you just aren't special like Billy.
Hopefully this second chapter will right wrongs and place this story firmly, permaneantly, at position #1 where it deserves to be immortalised forever.