Disclaimer: Do not own yadda yadda…
The narrator realises the last chapters were written simply to satisfy her own lust and decides to get back to the plot…
So Mort is walking to the gym which magically appeared in the woods. He was to meet his new guest, the simulated Muhammad Ali, there. Mort was feeling good again. Everyone was so kind to him, pointing out to him where the corn was, trying to ravish him….
"Hey! That wasn't nice! They were slobbering!"
Fan Girls: ALMOST slobbering! ALMOST!
Audience: Sure you weren't
Fan Girls: Thanks for believing us! See narrator, SOME PEOPLE are nice!
Narrator: They really are dumb aren't they?
By this time Mort had reached the gym...
Random Dude: Sorry, the simulated Mr Ali couldn't be here today, he was "ill"
"Oh great. Even the simulated guy gets more than I do!"
Narrator: Don't feel so bad Mort, what about Margaret Thatcher?
"Good point. I shall never complain about that again…"
Random Dude: So…I shall help you beat the crap out of some punch bag labelled "Ted the Bastard" today.
Fan Girls: Aw, isn't he a sweetie, helping out our little Mort?
"Yes…finally a chance to let out the anger inside which first arose when Mazy Valentine beat the crap out of me when I was 5 years old…."
Narrator: Um, why?
"Meh. All I did was steal her underwear and try it on…."
Matthew: Hmmm….the fact that he steals underwear off little girls tells us something VERY interesting which um, the fan girls may not want to hear…
"Why, why must my psychiatrist be everywhere?"
Matthew: Because I am secretly Buddha…
Fan Girls: Did he just imply that Mort was GAY?
"Hey! I prefer the term "homosexual!"
Audience: God are they slow today….
Narrator: Whatever let us leave "Buddha" over there to have his brains whacked out…oh don't tell me the fan girls have lost interest ALREADY!
Fan Girls: What? We just got distracted by um, building a temple to our God Mort, is there anything WRONG with a bit of religion!
Audience: It is if you were just about to sacrifice Matthew on that altar over there…
Fan Girls: We weren't! HONESTLY! Please don't make us leave Mort….
Random Dude: My mum always said I should have just worked with evil world leaders but noooo; I just HAD to get dragged into this. "Come on Bill! It will be fun!" they said well HAH…
"Yo! Dude? My training?"
Random dude/ Bill: Sorry. I shall snap out of my dark and tortured mind to help you let out YOUR anger… you selfish bastard you…
"Glad we got that sorted"
Mort spent the next couple of hours punching uh, "Ted the Bastard". He was really enjoying it and hell; he had destroyed ten punch bags already!
Bill: Okay, a: those things cost money and b: have you ever considered getting some help?
"What with?"
Bill: Um, never mind. I didn't, cough, mean your obvious mental problems…
"Oh, those! Why didn't you just say? I already have some dude, yet he doesn't do anything except look attractive, make out with the narrator and pop up at inappropriate moments and insist in watching the porn with me…"
Narrator: Hmm….Matthew?
Matthew: I didn't! I swear on that hot chick we DIDN'T watch last night…
Mort: Oh yeah, the random Brazilian ho…
Narrator: Excuse me while I hang myself in this convenient barn…
Bill: Oh, I watched that too!
Mort and Matthew: Good wasn't it?
Audience: Ah, men joined in the love of Ana-Eliza Rivelino…
Narrator: Am I the only one who doesn't watch dirty late night TV around here?
Bill, Mort, Matthew, Audience and fan girls: Yep.
Narrator: Good Lord…
Bill: Whatever. Now that you have let out your anger and released your mental anguish of losing your wife, what shall you do?
"Kill Ted."
Bill, Matthew, Audience, heck, everyone except Mort: Nice one Mort…
What do you think? I know, I know. But this story is now finished. FINI! I shall make a sequel in my bad state of health…watch this space. Well, not this space, more like, your inbox, for I shall return! MUAHAHAHAHA! Sorry. You have full permission to kill me.