The Unofficial Fanfiction University of Smash
Chapter 13: Class Eleven... Angst!
Disclaimer: I don't even know if the original fanfiction university still exists, but it doesn't really matter. It sucked anyway.
Gold stars:
What's that?
I'm about to tackle two years of my life with this chapter...
Jabba walked into the classroom with absolutely no problem. It was a completely uneventful time in his life. All that there was, was the constant nothingness of his soul, devoid of any meaning.
"That's sad!" Jabba said, sadly. He said it with much sorrow. The words he spoke were spoken with a tone of depression.
The punchline was on vacation.
"Now there's nothing to cheer me up!" Jabba said, sadly. He said it with no hope. He was full of a lack of emotion.
"I can help!" a punch said. "I may not be a punch line, but I'm close enough!"
With that, Jabba was punched in the nads. Fortunately for him, his nads were on vacation in Columbia, unfortunately for him, his nads were on vacation in Columbia.
"Where did they go!?" Jabba cried, obviously not paying attention to the part where I said they were on vacation in Columbia.
Jabba didn't have any more time to be mopey and crybabyesque. Class was starting and all the students were walking into the room.
"Good morning class!" Luigi didn't yell.
"Good morning Mr. Mario" The class responded in a very unmotivated fashion. There was a serious lack of excitement in their voices. They definitely weren't happy. They also weren't made out of jello... except for that one kid. They weren't angry, they weren't giddy. They were lacking in tone. They weren't even monotone. They were nomotone, one step below monotone. They weren't in underwear and they certainly hadn't been up all last night partying like goats. I can go on telling you what they didn't have, do, or feel, but I'm bored. I'm feeling a lack of excitement. I'm not happy. I'm not a transvestite sumo wrestler who failed out of medical school. I'm not a lot of things really.
"Don't call me Mr. Mario! That would be confusing, we have three Mr. Mario's working at this facility! Instead, call me a fruit-bat!" Luigi didn't yell.
"Why?" Jabba asked without any real concern. His voice was lacking in concern. He didn't show an ounce of milk, rather he showed a whole gallon of the stuff. He was really promoting that milk.
Luigi got sick of all this unnecessary emphasis on the fact that there wasn't anything to describe, and threw some fireworks into the air.
"Describe the lack of THIS!" Luigi didn't yell, throwing the fireworks not at the ground but in a different direction.
The fireworks weren't made of a compound you can generally get through osmosis. The fireworks weren't water based. The fireworks didn't have any emotion on their faces and didn't even have faces. The lack of meaning in their existance depressed even the happiest people in the room. There weren't any happy people in the room though, and now thanks to the void that was expressed through these fireworks, there never would be.
"Actually I think we're never going to be happy because those aren't fireworks... that's over two hundred pounds of C4 explosives!" Jabba said without any emotion. The pain of existence had taken the emotions away. The emotions were dating the pain of existence, and they enjoyed being around each other. Jabba didn't know if he'd ever see his emotions again.
The explosives went off and their combined power killed everyone in the room, and collapsed Luigi's lung.
"I won't let you die!" Jabba yelled.
"Please, I really wanna!" Luigi didn't cry.
"Not until you've finished your vegetables!" Jabba yelled.
"But they're nasty!" Luigi didn't cry.
"Then no dieing for you!" Jabba yelled.
"But MOOOOOOOMMM!" Luigi didn'ted.
"No, you're going to LIVE!" Jabba yelled.
So Luigi didn't die, and he moped around for a while because Jabba wouldn't let him die.
"Why do you want to die?" Luigi's psychiatrist asked. Luigi's psychiatrist had a lack of non-expression. He seemed like he legitimately didn't not care. He wasn't Mewtwo, and he wasn't Lucario. He wasn't Ness or Lucus. He wasn't any kind of item and he certainly wasn't based on any kind of animal/human cross. OK I lied his psychiatrist was Mewtwo.
"Just curious" Luigi didn't fascism.
"Well with that kind of an answer there's no way I can let you into death. You're going to need to come up with a real answer to fill this position" Mewtwo said.
Jabba realized that he wasn't needed here anymore. He walked away in sorrow.
"Wait a minute..." Jabba said to himself, starting to feel something.
"Wasn't I supposed to learn something from this class?" Jabba pondered. He remembered how all his other classes had something to give. How there was a meaning at the end of every one.
"What am I supposed to learn from this!" Jabba yelled, running back to Luigi.
"What are you talking about?" Luigi didn't put out any fires.
"What was the meaning of this class?" Jabba asked.
"You're silly. Angst isn't supposed to have meaning. It's not about what's happening or what's good. Angst is about describing the LACK of what's there and the LACK of anything important happening" Luigi didn't yell. Luigi didn't wink. Luigi's facial muscles didn't do anything of interest during this speech. They were devoid of meaning.
"So, am I supposed to learn anything?" Jabba asked.
"The thing that makes Angst so sad is that it doesn't actually do anything. In the end you realize there was no point, and that there's no point to existence" Luigi didn't go on a bloody rampage killing all the fanfiction authors who loved to always portray him as a whiney little fag with no friends and who always ended up failing at life. Luigi didn't use chainsaws to saw these people in half for all the hate they always spewed towards him, and he certainly didn't do anything funny.
So Jabba did those things for Luigi.
"Hey, wow, something happened!" Luigi DID yell. His lungs weren't used to yelling, as he had spent so much time not yelling, that they collapsed from the new feeling.
"I'm not gonna let you die!" Jabba yelled.
"But you killed all those people for me, why not help me do this too?" Luigi asked.
"K" Jabba said and walked away, into a flower pot. The flower pot was nicknamed Columbia, and Jabba found his nads.
"Horray!" Jabba shouted.
He was then punched in the nads.
Joeb walked into the room wearing sleek new Kirby slippers he had made from Kirby's rotting body.
"I don't know what hurts worse... rotting or being worn as slippers..." Kirby cried. He cried tears of something that wasn't happy.
"Now you know what angst is!" Joeb smiled.
Jabba was busy on the ground having just been punched in the nads. The punch made him think that maybe he could make a sand castle, and that was what he was doing currently.
"No, I'm the one who currently understands the pain of angstyness!" Kirby cried.
"Well whatever it is, it certainly isn't happiness!" Joeb laughed, and ran away. He tripped on a shard of glass, causing Kirby to pop... twice... one for each slipper.
"So now I understand. I should never write angsty stories because they're full of nothing happening, and that just gets boring!" Jabba chachalolmonetariosoed (an emotion that is having every single possible emotion at the same time). "Wait, if EMO is supposed to stand for emotional, and angst is the lack of any meaning or emotions... aren't they supposed to be polar opposites? Why do EMO's write so much angst?"
Jabba's brain exploded trying to figure it out. Jabba was fine though, and headed to his next class.
Erm...
I don't know what I had been planning to do with this story, but what I'm not doing to do is have it sit here and rot. I will finish the shit that needs to be finished!!!
That goes for some other stories too, which I'm sure you can guess.
Damn it, things will happen, and there will be something EPIC in the world... I WILL RULE THE WORLD!!! Falling short of that I will destroy it... I don't know yet, but DAMN IT I want to DO SOMETHING!