James. A Vignette.

A work, by Morbid Luvxxx.

This is positively mortifying! Not only have I not yet received at least 68 reviews like I predicted yesterday, but also there are people who have the gall to brand my work as a joke! This leaves me spluttering! How DARE you criticise my art! Especially when it's obvious that you aren't fit to do so! Especially Miss Spice Of Life, who is 16 years old while I have only just turned 13 and am still far more able in every conceivable asset! I think Ms Spice Of Life is pretty unintelligent for her age considering this! Thankfully, I believe that this poor reaction is due to what Flacks said in my reviews section - that my use of vocabulary and hallucinatory writing style is far ahead of its time. Thus I shall continue to press on regardless of critical opinion, in search of artistic darwinism. May those who condemn this work be smited from the lands of literature, lest they not be wise enough to realise that this is literary history in the making!

All the best writers had to contend with an initial wallowing in obscurity before their discovery. I, personally, have so far been labelled as "pompous" (a certain reviewer of mine is guilty of this), "arrogant" and "not the greatest writer in the world". All of these people are wrong, and to find out why, please read on!

Flying free, as we all do in life! The cheer grows more and more and more and more... I am a happy young boy with an
outstretched skull, named Billy. Hello everyone, you might not have met me yet in Rugrats or All Grown Up, but I'm very
pleased to meet you all!

Shake my hand!

Does this shock you?

Well, I only have one.

I also have five ears.

I can read her thoughts. She thinks I'm a cripple. Just because my skull's a bit different, she thinks I'm a tard. And that's
my own mother. Just wait until Angie shows up.

Hi Angie!

I actually enjoy her company.

"Whack up on the G-fly pie, yo B-man! Splack it on a QTip and pastry bumrush dat ting into your eardrummound, suckah
monaroidium! Like... YEAH!"

He's practising his minstrel routine.

There is no such thing as outdated social concepts. we are not any more evolved than the humans that lived a century ago.
Slavery is not an outdated concept, it's an instinctual human function that's being supressed. The slaves and traders needed
it for their cravings.

They phoned the authorities but that doesn't change the raptures I felt as she created that encompassing 360 degree chasm
around my soft doughy scrotum. The thrill of bright liquidy colour that spewed forth from this wound made me feel greeaaat!

They arrested the one person who made me happy.

Yurine.

I get back home and all is well, swell and oh hell - I'm late for my favourite television program! Worse, we don't have a
television! We NEVER had a television!
FUCKCKCKCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKERY

All Encompassing Reason:

2
&
'''/

Extremely beautiful it is. Nobody seems to realise the grandeur but me, making it all the more special than that crap
EVERYONE likes. It's my self-actualisation process. The finery of natural existence.

Oh fuck now it's bleeding again! THANKS ANGELICA!

My heart? No. My balls!

AMBULANCE!

4 hours later

That's her surname these days, after she married that cannister of piss. Anyway, I am a poet. Inspired by the works of Good
Charlotte, Fall Out Boy and My Chemical Romance I have written all kinds of stuff. Here's my favourite:

Tossing, turning, writhing toilets make me feel good, I crap into them. There's a huge mountain over there, and I can climb
it. Too steep? Nothing is "too steep". Nothing.

"Billy? Wake up man!"

It's Tommy. I can make him out through the fuzz

"You had a fall out and stuff, dude. Get up mondo style!"

I try to obey his words but my blood supply is low.

Here comes Didi again with that bloody nappy. I crap into it and she lets out a cry of indignation. Well, I'm a baby, get
used to it you wench! Bloody wanker.

"Whack smack paddywhack on the pimphole and crack scarface gtip get da break and choo get da MONEYS homey!"

He's really funny and I'm proud to have him as my brother!

I refuse to write any more chapters until I receive 126 reviews for my story, for I do not believe that the people here deserve this artistic enlightenment that I am providing. May they learn from their coarse mistakes!