[1] quote from the first two lines of Macbeth's Tomorrow and tomorrow speech in the play Macbeth by Shakespeare.
[2] paraphrased from Endgame by Samuel Beckett.
[3] Solipsism, the belief that reality is a figment of your imagination, created to cope with the loneliness of existing alone. The significance of the joke is that no one else exists to accept solipsism as truth.
"I see a multitude in transports of joy" Clov speaking to Hamm in the play Endgame by Samuel Beckett.
The Kid pirates slept in that day. They were mostly prepared. The shipwright had cleaned the ship's keel and rudder. The holes in the sails were patched. Food, water, and other "necessities" were stored. All that was left was the new girl and girls. The raid would occur early tomorrow morning. Killer woke up early and scouted the route the crew would take on their whore raid. He walked over to where they fought the slimy feeders.
There was a small amount of satisfaction of returning to the scene of a fight, especially one that was fought to the death, no matter the strength of the opponent. Granted, the stronger the opponent, the sweeter the memory, but this monster had her charms. There was a small bit of truth in Rusla's words. Things or events that are grotesque and frightening are indeed erotic. And so Killer basked in the eroticism of that nightmarish beast.
In Jonathan's household, a toad had gotten loose and was jumping around the kitchen, only to be eaten by the family dog. Jonathan's wife Elena was cleaning the gore out of the dog's mouth while showing the kids the various internal organs of a toad.
"Would you like to pay a visit to Rusla today?"
"Why on earth would I do that? She's an asshole. A charming asshole, but still an asshole. Now boys, never talk like your mother, you hear?"
"You'd forgive her jerk behavior for the worldly gossip she offers. And today is the last day she will be in town."
"Oh, so she'll be moving again. Che, maybe I'll bump into her on a merchant ship. Now Leo, these little string like things here are intestines. Now do you see that lovely, transparent membrane?"
"Yes mom." A little boy responded, with lively eyes that were glued to his mother's lesson.
"That is called mesentery. It keeps your intestines from unraveling in your stomach. Here, hold it. Isn't it pretty?"
"It sure is mom!"
"Ooohhh let me see that!" Sam looked into Leo's hands.
Jonathan cleared his throat. "Rusla decided to join with some pirates."
"Lies. Heresy. Rusla is too bitchy about her independence to submit to someone."
"She's also too lazy to complain."
"That's true too. I suppose we'll go ahead and visit her in a little bit"
"Hey mom! Can we be pirates?"
"No." Husband and wife spoke at the same time.
Kid wandered through the shoddy sides of town, picking fights with the hobos and local gangsters. He was bored. A slim and shady man walked up to him with his swagger on and started busting some rhymes. The rhymes went something along the lines of
"Now this is a story all about how my life got flipped turned upside down,
And I'd like to take a minute, just shut up man,
and I'll tell you how I became the strongest man of this land."
Kid was confused.
"In the South Blue sea I was born and raised,
On a marine ship was where I spent most of my days.
Chillin and workin out with the men of the crew
When a couple of pirates who were totally ape shit
Started makin' trouble on the battle ship!"
Kid kept staring not knowing whether to attack or leave.
"I disobeyed one little order and my dad got p-oed
He said 'you're movin to little shithole in Urdo'
I waited for a boat, and when it came near
The sails said "Fresh" and there were dice in the rear.
And I thought to myself, this boat's funny, Yo home to Mundi!"
Kid was too entertained to punch this guy.
"We pulled up to port around seven or eight,
And I yelled to the sailor, 'yo home! Smell ya later!'
Looked at my shithole, I was totally mad.
But when I became the strongest, I was finally glad."
Kid burst out laughing. "That was retarded. Beyond words."
The slim, shady man threw a punch at him. Kid countered with an uppercut and broke the man's jaw.
"Your music… Is shit."
Kid walked off. If that was the strongest guy on the island, then he was in for a lot of disappointment. But then again, that guy was probably spewing bullshit.
At some point in the early afternoon, Rusla dragged herself out of bed. She was a woman on a mission. She had shit to do, for once. She worked out, went through her daily ablutions, got dressed, so on and so on. As she went through this, the narrator debated the pros and cons of giving a giant block paragraph devoted to the latest piece of whoreshit that Rusla is wearing. This whoreshit was probably bought at a store like Hot Topic, where kids who want to pretend to be rebellious could dress up in Che Guevara shirts while talking about suburban life's pain. Rusla finished getting dressed, whatever that looked like. Having wasted enough time in the apartment, Rusla packed up most of her belongings and made her way to the ship. She was greeted by a degenerate, the same degenerate who fully complied with his captain's hazing orders last night.
"Hey you! Yeah, I'm just going to call you Degenerate One. Or D-One for short. Where's my quarters, bud?"
"I have a name. Jeez. Anyway, follow me."
D-One lead her to a room that had barely enough space for a bed, but at least it was her room. As she put her belongings away, she checked the walls for support beams. She could put in shelves to maximize storage, and have her mattress over some storage bins. The alcohol could go there. The space was measured for shelving. Rusla left the ship to pick up furniture.
Jonathan and his existentialist wife walked over to Rusla's shithole apartment.
"Looks like we missed her. Too bad."
"She told me yesterday that she was leaving tomorrow."
"Having yesterday and tomorrow in the same sentence doesn't work out too well. Ah, yesterday!" His wife Elena declared in an elegiac voice.
"Reading up on existentialism lately?"
"Yes I am! Once again! And I will read it again tomorrow, and tomorrow-"
" and tomorrow creeps in this petty pace from day to day."[1] Jonathan finished.
They smiled.
"Hmm, do you want me to tell you a joke?" Elena asked her husband as they made their way through town.
"Is it the tailor joke?"
"Yes!"
"Ah, my favorite!"
They walked towards a shoddy part of town.
Elena started, her voice like a narrator. "A tailor needing a pair of trousers for New Year's festivities goes to his tailor."
Her voice now imitating a man's. "There sir, that's good. Come back in a four days"
The voice of a narrator. "And so the man comes back."
"I'm so very sorry, I've made a mess of the seat. Come back in a week"
"Very well, a neat seat is very ticklish."
"He returns."
"I'm sorry sir, it seems I've made a hash of the crotch. Come back in ten days"
"Very well, a snug crotch is always a teaser. Ten days later."
"I'm sorry, but I've made a balls of the fly. Come back in a fortnight"
"Very well, at a pinch, a smart fly is a stiff proposition."
"Well, to make it simple, the bluebells are blowing and he ballockses the buttonholes"
"God damn you to hell sir! No sir, it's indecent! God made the world in seven day! Seven days, sir! No less sir! And you can't make me a decent pair of trousers in three months!"
"Oh but sir, my good sir, look at the world." Elena gestured to the filth and poverty of the poorer streets, "then look at my TROUSERS!" [2]
The couple smile at the joke. Jonathan lets out a small chuckle.
"The joke is said too often, love. We need a new one." Spoke Elena.
"Mhmm. Have you ever considered solipsism? It's a great idea! I wonder why others don't accept it!" [3] remarked Jonathan.
They laugh.
"Good one, love. Good one."
While walking, they run into Kid. Jonathan asks Kid on Rusla's whereabouts, and Kid hadn't a clue. Actually he did have a clue. She might've headed towards the ship. With this in mind, the couple walked towards the dock.
Lo and behold! The couple ran into Rusla. They chatted, walked around, discussed memories. Elena warned her about drinking around sailors. Rusla mentioned the possibility of the crew getting a harem. Elena then warns her of crabs and syphilis. Jonathan mentioned his few possible sailing trips and a hope that pretty much translates into them crossing paths at some point in the story. Elena continued nagging in a motherly fashion, warning Rusla not to make an ass of herself in front of the pirates. Then she stated worry that she may have already done this.
"Go home and water your kids, Elena. I've got some preparations to make."
They parted.
Rusla bought her shelving and got the crap installed. No one on ship seemed to complain or notice. By the time she finished, it was about time to report for her last night at Blue Moon.
I got concerned earlier, when a reviewer commented something along the lines that my story is so super-special-awesome that she couldn't find anything to critique. To try and fix this, I've referenced some works you people should read/might've already read. I'll add to this list a book called The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde. Now, my little reader minions, take note of any flaws in wording or sentence structure of my chapters. My fear is greatly increased because I crap this stuff out at 1-3 in the morning, maybe even later. I don't double check it manually or even use spell check. So there is something wrong somewhere in my story, and I'll train your reader minions to find it somehow. Maybe my story lacks logic or sentence variety. I know you guys are used to the crap writings of the 13 year old girls on here. Get past this limitation! Seek finer writing! Be a taste tester for it! Conquer the world!
Oh, I hope you enjoyed my Fresh Prince parody. CRAPPED OUT IN TEN MINUTES. WOOT.