A/N: As per usual, no greater than/less than signs. So 'x3' is a heart, and + and - are used for the tree modus! But enough of my babblery, you should know this by now.
Rose prepared to descend the stairs to her living room. She was standing eye-to-eye with a familiar foe, a 20-foot tall granite statue of the mighty wizard, Zazzerpan the Learned. Her mother had had him installed through a hole in the roof with a heavy-duty crane.
Just looking at that mystical gaze; just peering into those aloof, glassen eyes was to arrest the curiosity of any mortal. To behold the wisdom concealed in the furrows of that venerable foe was to know the ceaseless joys of bewonderment itself. Any man so fortunate as to catch askance his merry twinkle or twitch of whisker should surely have all his dreams fulfilled.
Rose found this grisly abomination detestable.
As she descended down the steps, she was faced with more wizard decorations scattered about the first floor.
Rose scowled. Her mother clearly had no affinity for these damnable things. She only collected them to spite her.
If anything, she found them more repellent than Rose did. She was just a committed woman.
Moving on, she stepped down from the stairs and into the living room area of her home's expansive open layout.
There was the sound of rushing water beneath the floor. It tended to strike guests as a strange presence in a living space, but it had become hardly audible to her through familiarity.
The front door was not far from where she stood, but hopefully there was no need to make the long trek around the house in the rain. She figured she might as well see if she could slip through the kitchen and out the back unnoticed.
Next to the stairs where Rose was, stood her mother's solid bronze vacuum. But it wasn't always bronze. A while ago, Rose gave the vacuum as an ironic gift to her mom for mother's day. She even had it customized with a drink holder to support one of her ubiquitous alcoholic beverages.
Mom "liked" the gift so much, she had it bronzed and put on this pedestal. She even left it plugged so it could still be turned on now and then. But never to do any cleaning. It never left the display.
Sometimes at night, when she was in her room, Rose could hear it wailing from downstairs. Mom must have known she could hear it. She was completely deranged.
Over on one of the couches in the sitting area, was a rather large doll, or the Eldritch Princess, as Rose had dubbed it due to its lovely squid-like head and tentacles. She went to go grab it, but it was too big to captchalogue.
Not that she had wanted to move it anyway. The Pretty Princess Doll had been sitting there for months, ever since her mother had gotten this abomination for her birthday as a totally passive-aggressive gesture.
Rose had decided to make it much less abominable by knitting Her Majesty a new head and new arms. Now it brought a mischievous smile to her face whenever she walked by. Her mother hadn't removed the doll yet, and probably never would. She was never the one to blink first.
Next to the doll on the couch was an umbrella. Rose took it to protect her from the elements once she exited the house.
U+ L. U- V. The tree modus placed the umbrella at the bottom of her deck.
She was going to have one hell of a time accessing that card when she needed it. But she guessed she would cross that bridge later.
Peeking inside the kitchen behind the sitting area, Rose saw that the liquor bottles were out in full force. Mom was surely nearby.
She looked over at the refrigerator, whose surfaces had customarily served as the battlefield for a chilly siege of passive-aggressive one-upmanship.
The top portion of it was taken up by a drawing Rose had done of her cat Jaspers when she was younger, along with a poem about him. Her mother had bought an ostentatious $15,000 frame for it and had it welded to the door.
Beneath that were the colorful magnet letters, which Rose had recently used to leave a succinct message, "shrew," which may or may not have been directed to anyone in particular. But she couldn't find the letter W, so she had just stuck two V's together.
Her mother had then purchased a fresh pack of W's and left them there for her convenience.
Appreciative of the thoughtful gesture, Rose had left her a sincere thank you note, which she had legally notarized, and then marked with a drop of blood. But part of it was touching the floor, so her mother had been kind enough to lift the lower portion of the document with a velvet pillow.
Rose went and took one of the W's and held it up to her face like a fake mustache.
This was incredibly silly, and she wasn't sure how it fit into her campaign against her mother, or getting her computer back online to escape her doom. But it was hard to resist getting a little silly sometimes; especially when she was absolutely sure no one was watching.
She captchalogued the W.
W+ L. W+ V.
But that unsightly void in the W pack would not do, nor would the gash in the plastic. Rose deposited 12 cents in its place, which was her approximation of the letter's value. She also made a vow to return later and neatly sew the plastic shut.
She now wondered how to address the pillow situation. It seemed the woman had her at a clear disadvantage.
Perhaps slipping a fresh doily under the pillow would do the trick? Or maybe spilling a bit of Worcestershire sauce on it, and then having it dry-cleaned and returned along with a laboriously ingratiating apology note? No, there was no time for anything like that. Or maybe (just thinking out loud here) she could use the entire pack of W's as M's? Oh yes, that would burn.
But she had already done something with that W pack and there was no need to go back and gild that lily. This was delicate business. And that pillow was screaming for rebuttal.
Rose decided to take the velvet pillow and lovingly embroider a poem in praise of motherhood on it. Hopefully she could pull this off before she noticed it was gone.
Ve+ L. Ve- Vi. Ve+ U.
But it caused the tree to be pretty badly unbalanced. It surely would auto-balance itself in a moment.
Which it did. And just like that, the umbrella became accessible in the root card. That was one of the things she loved about the tree modus, the happy surprises.
Ok, well enough was enough. It was time for her to head out the back door. But right as she was about to leave, her mother came in as she went about cleaning in the dark.
"Augh!" Rose exclaimed as quietly as possible as she quickly hid behind the refrigerator.
She didn't know how her mother did that. She was never safe in this home.
And of all things to be doing during a power outage. She was up to her ironic housewife routine again. That mop bucket didn't even have any water in it! What an absolute madwoman.
Darting out from the refrigerator, Rose did a youth roll over the counters and into the sitting room. Unfortunately though, she landed on the coffee table, knocking over the multiple wizard statues that had been on display there.
'Lousy goddamn stupid wizards.' She thought to herself.
Meanwhile, in the past again, Dave was almost done patching up the hole in his window with gaffer tape.
But it was sort of hard getting any work done when people kept pestering him all day. He guessed he had better go check on his beeping computer.
- gardenGnostic [GG] began pestering turntechGodhead [TG] at 18:36 -
GG: hi dave!
TG: hey sup
GG: not much sup with you!
GG: bro! hehehe
TG: haha
TG: good one
TG: s'alright being chill i guess you know how it goes
GG: great! feeling cool today?
GG: mr cool guy?
TG: oh man you know it
GG: sooooo cooooooool!
TG: you know shit is ice cold up in here
TG: shit is wicked bananas i am telling you
GG: :D
GG: so have you talked to john today?
TG: yeah we were just talking a while ago about how he sucks at his sylladex
TG: can you believe he uses stack that kid is ridiculous
GG: lol
GG: well that doesnt sound like much fun!
TG: what was it you use again...
TG: wait nm
TG: i forgot whenever we talk about your goofy modusses i get a migrane. what do you want with john
GG: :)
GG: i want to tell him happy birthday and ask him about his birthday package!
TG: oh yeah
TG: i was being sort of cagey and told him to check the mail cause i was wondering if mine came yet
GG: i think it did!
TG: yeah?
GG: and i think mine came too
TG: so uh
TG: i guess you want to know if he likes it or something?
GG: no!
GG: he will not open it
GG: he will lose it!
TG: oh
TG: uh
TG: wow sorry to hear that i guess?
GG: no its good actually!
GG: because he will find it again later when he really needs it
GG: which of course is why i sent it in the first place!
TG: see like
TG: i never get how you know these things
GG: i dont know
GG: i just know that i know!
TG: hmm alright
GG: anyway i have to go!
GG: i have to feed bec which is always a bit of an undertaking
TG: man
TG: if i were you i would just take that fucking devilbeast out behind the woodshed and blow its head off
GG: heheheh!
GG: i dont think i could if i tried!
TG: yeah
TG: say hi to your grand dad for me too ok
GG: ._.
GG: yes i guess an encounter with him is almost certain
GG: it is usually...
GG: intense!
TG: well yeah isnt it always with family
TG: but he sounds like a total badass
GG: yeah he totally is!
GG: anyway gotta go!
TG: see ya
GG: x3
Dave thought it would be handy to have his PHONE (2+2+1+2+1 = 8%10 = 8) on so he wouldn't always have to go back to his computer whenever someone pestered him, so he went and got it from where he had left it by his turntables. This way he could TEXT MESSAGE (2+1+2+2 + 2+1+2+2+1+2+1 = 18%10 = 8) people no matter where he was or what outrageously cool thing he was up to.
He captchalogued the phone onto card 8, expelling the towel out onto his head.
SO. COOL.
And even meanerwhile, in the present (sort of,) John had followed the oil slicks into his bedroom. But once again, the slippery antagonist had eluded him. He only found more of the unpleasant oily smears inside.
Now someone was pestering him, and both his PDA and computer had registered the message.
TG: alright
TG: im out of my room now looking for my bros game
EB: oh, good!
EB: yeah, there is no sign of rose yet, i hope she is ok
TG: well if she comes back ill be ready
TG: you better know what youre talking about cause this could get ugly
TG: brought my phone and i also took my awesome katana with me in case things get too hot to handle
TG: and they always do
EB: you mean that cheap piece of shit you have on your wall?
TG: FU
TG: its sharp and its awesome and its a sword
TG: end of story
EB: ok i don't really care.
EB: i'm in my room again, i really think there's someone else in this house.
EB: like monsters or something.
TG: howie?
EB: haha I WISH.
TG: dude monsters arent real
TG: thats stupid kids stuff for stupid babies
EB: maybe. yeah you're right.
TG: what are you an idiot
TG: of course there are monsters in your house
TG: youre in some weird evil monster dimension come on
TG: skepticism is the crutch of cinematic troglodytes
TG: like hey mom dad theres a dinosaur or a ghost or whatever in my room. "yeah right junior go back to bed"
TG: fuck you mom and dad how many times are we going to watch this trope unfold it wasnt goddamn funny the first time i saw it
TG: just once id like to see dad crap his pants when a kid says theres a vampire in his closet
TG: "OH SHIT EVERYONE IN THE MINIVAN"
TG: be fuckin dad of the year right there
EB: ok ok stop!
EB: what do i do?
TG: what do you have a hammer
TG: man so lame
TG: ok whatever
TG: you should look into weaponizing your sylladex
TG: my bro is always getting on my case about it but man its not as easy as it sounds
TG: but if youre fighting monsters left and right you dont have much choice
EB: hmm...
EB: ok, i guess i can read up on data structures some more.
EB: how's it going there?
TG: im out in the living room hes usually here
TG: but i dont see him
TG: might be playing his mind games hes always pulling this ninja shit
TG: all i see is lil cal over there so i guess he cant be far
EB: hahaha.
EB: oh god.
EB: SO LAME.
TG: what
EB: see...
EB: i just don't know why you think it's cool.
EB: his ventriloquist rapping thing.
TG: oh lil cal? no man
TG: lil cal is the shit
EB: that's fine, you are entitled to your opinion, i am just saying that being a white guy who is a rapper with a ventriloquist doll is not cool by any stretch of the imagination or by any definition of word cool, ironic or otherwise. that's all i'm saying.
TG: yeah bullshit
TG: cal is dope
TG: puppets are awesome
TG: john egbert blows
TG: the end
EB: yeah, more like the opposite of all those things is the thing that is true!
EB: i'm going to read.
EB: good luck with your bro.
'READ YOUR BOOK. STAY WARY OF THESE FOES.'
Pff, monsters. Only retarded babies who pooped in their diapers believed in that stuff.
Rose was about to do another youth roll out the front door, but her mother appeared, blocking her path. This left her with only one option…
STRIFE!
Rose readied her knitting needles to fend off her mother. She whacked her a few times, but it seemed ineffective. So, she resorted to the method of passively aggressing by performing an empty suicide threat and thrust her needles into the powerless electric outlet nearby.
However, her mother just responded with an ironic indulgence and presented Rose with a beautiful pony. Rose abjured the meddlesome creature. Mom then used her tactic of ironic negligence and offered Rose some of her martini, which Rose was prepared for and pulled out a bottle of Perrier in defense.
After this episode, it looked like Mom had satisfied her STRIFE! quota for the day, and simply returned to her housework, dusting the massive statue.
There was no point for Rose to go out the front door anymore, so she figured she might as well go out the back like she had originally planned.
Before leaving, she looked at the pony that now stood by the stairs. Rose gave it a begrudging pat on the snout. Her name was Maplehoof.
'JOHN TURN AROUND!'
Data Structures for Assholes
Chapter 7 – God Damn It, Why Do I Even Bother
The good news: finally your revolting incompetence can be put to use. Instead of accidentally firing a sylladex full of steak knives into a priceless oil painting or your beloved great aunt, you can turn that fumbling fury toward one of your foes, such as the ability to grasp painfully simple concepts. The bad news: I'm tired of explaining myself hoarse to you jabbering fuckwads. In this chapter I will be phoning it in with the liberal use of diagrams and shitty clipart. What are you going to do about it? You are going to wriggle in your own viscous secretions like the worms you are. That's what.
Asshole Notes!
Purse your lips together to form a stiff pucker. Apply them firmly to my rear end. I now pronounce you man and wife. Now get in the kitchen and make my ass some dinner, bitch.
John was trying to read, and this book was already unpleasant enough as it was without weird voices in his head nagging him to do things.
Besides, I thought we already agreed that there was no such thing as monsters.
But whatever, he decided he would listen to the voice and interrupt his reading so he could turn around, but he didn't see what could possibly be so oh my god it was a monster.
A strange black creature with narrow eyes and sharp black teeth dressed as a jester leapt at John and growled at him.
STRIFE!
The shale imp, as it was, brandished his stuffed bunny and threatened to bring harm to it. But John readied his sledgehammer and prepared to fight it off.
"Put the bunny back in the box!" He shouted at it.
Raising his hammer above his head, John sought to strike the imp, however it still proved to be too heavy for him to wield and he fell back and hit his head, dropping the hammer on the floor.