To the Brim
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Pointless Prelude
Just two days before the below story took place, old Missus Shankshire took out her pet DINOSAUR Komodo Dragon lizard harmless reptile for a walk down to the animal store, where she was planning on giving it up so it could be turned into a delicious rice soup. Predictably so, something was simply destined to go wrong—her heel on her shoes would break, she would fall off the curb and get run over by a car, her pet would devour her, a black hole would pop up in the middle of the sidewalk and suck her down into a different dimension, etc.
Surprisingly, however, all went well, except she lost a bobby pin on her walk, and several little children enjoyed enjoyed the sandwich that was made out of her former pet. This however, may or may not have anything to do with the regular story.
Chapter 1: Characters are named (sort of) settings are not named (maybe)
The unnamed character (who hasn't been named) flopped over on the couch. He couldn't help to notice the bear lurking in the corner of the room, as he was a "blind of tub of lard" as his neighbors called him. In actuality he was a legally blind container of goo, but his neighbors didn't notice, as the unnamed character was fat, socially inept, and glued to the bottom of an immovable chair, and that's why he never went outside. The neighbors also failed to notice any events happening outside of their isolated Iowa neighborhood due to their blind following of their fake religions guidelines, including tornadoes, world wars, and nuclear winter that froze half the town to death 3 years before (did I mention they were some time in the future, maybe like 2045? No? pity). And, predictably, they denied any of it happening.
Anyway, as the unnamed character was reaching around for the remote (which didn't have a name either), the nameless bear from the corner walked towards him and bit off his probing arm. Since he was blind, he didn't notice any of this happening (though being blind doesn't do anything with your ability to feel bears biting off your arm).
"Where is that damn remote." he asked. Nobody was there to answer.
"It's by the telly, you blind tub of lard," said Nobody, who was standing in the corner with 5 sticks poked out of his mouth.
"Oh, now that's handy, since I'm glued to this chair."
He swung his rear end, where the chair was attached, around like a small whale, simultaneously rolling off the couch with a loud thud. The chair snapped off his bum (which is odd, it was supposedly immovable, luckily I am the author and this is my world to control, ha) and flew up, hit the ceiling, and then hit the remote, which slid off the telly into the trash can. Luckily, since he fell off the couch, the whole neighborhood shook, and the trashcan tipped and the remote fell right into the unnamed characters hand.
"Thanks, Nobody." said the unnamed character, who at this point was stuck on the floor, cause he was so obese and could not stand up.
"Yeah right, the only reason why I said anything is because I'm not a monk anymore."
"Wait, you were a monk."
"Yes, you twit, that explains the unnamed bear that bit off your arm."
The bear, at this point, had already annihilated the refrigerator in attempts to fulfill its unfulfillable hunger, so he had moved on to the unnamed character's stash of cheetos in the closet.
"So now I'm missing an arm, and it smells like a bear is eating my cheetos stash. My life has gone from bad to worse to worse....er."
The unnamed character, who didn't like having a worser life, attempted to stand up by rolling around the the floor like a fat pig. He even engaged in squealing, which got so loud and unbearable that the bear in the corner became an un-bear, which, if you really want to know, is NOT GOOD.
"Wait a second, I'm a legally blind container of goo, I can't myself off the ground, and I don't have a name? This story is just sickening." said the unnamed character. "I demand a name, or I'll remove myself from this story with this!"
The unnamed character held up a pump action shotgun, but that too was quickly devoured by the un-bear.
"Goddammit bear, you just keep ruining my day eh."
"Yeah, I'm deadly hungry right now, so if you just let me eat you this whole problem might clear up." said the un-bear in reply.
Sadly however, the unnamed character's home was really just a bunch of twinkies stacked on top of each other, and the ceiling fan, which was stuck to the twinkie ceiling with old stale gum, fell off and crushed the un-bear.
"Nobody, could you help me get up before this un-bear devours me." asked the unnamed character.
Nobody was in the room. And no, not the character nobody, there was actually no one in the room; Nobody left to go watch the neighbors die in their attempts to ignore the pack of zombies surrounding their homes.
The unnamed character, now called "That guy" because I so choose it, wanted to—
"Wait, 'That guy'? is that really the best you could do." asked That guy.
The author explained he was too lazy to come up with anything else except for "Bobb" with two b's, which is just as lame.
Now, back to the juicy stuff, That guy was determined to stand up, as his 400 pounds of lard goo was keeping him from doing so. And so he rolled around, popped "8 Minute Abs" in the tube, and started his endeavour.
Chapter 2: Three years, sixteen protein bars, two healthy meals, no pizzas, another nuclear winter (damn nazi computers that are taking over the world), and a stuffed lion later... something happens
By this point in time nothing really happened in the world, there were more black presidents and some hurricane killed some people somewhere. Regardless, nothing else eventful happened, so that's why we skipped in it the form of chapter title.
That guy, now lying on the floor watching "8 Minute Abs" for the 197,100th consecutive time in a row, had finally been able to lose some weight, however, not nearly enough to allow him to stand up as of yet. Nobody was nowhere doing nothing, and all of the twinkies that had made up That guy's house were well past their expiration date.
"Gah, this tedious workout has done nothing to eliminate my tummy fat." said That guy, curling for one, and two, and three times back and forth.
He had lost 18 pounds of his 426 over the three year period, well ahead of his scheduled 4 pounds.
"If I am not able to stand by the end of today, will indulge my self by consuming my house made of twinkies!"
Alas, at the end of the day he was not able to stand up, and, therefore, not able to get up to eat his home made of twinkies. So instead, he resorted to eating the rug he was laying on.
Two days later, That guy, who had been sobbing endlessly for hours, finally took out the "8 Minute Abs" video and it ate it too. Then, regular TV gleamed on, blaring loudly as That guy was almost deaf.
"DO YOU HAVE TERRIBLE STOMACH PROBLEMS, I.E. TONS OF FAT IN YOUR GUT!? WELL WORRY NO LONGER 'CAUSE LIPOMAN, THE MASTER LIPOSUCTION GUY IS HERE TO SAVE YOU. JUST CALL 1-800-LIPOMAN AND GIVE US ALL OF YOUR INFORMATION AND YOU'LL BE THIN AGAIN."
"What an idea." said That guy.
He stood up to get the phone, walked over to the phone table, then realized something: the phone wasn't there.
"Crap, now do I have to go find a public phone or something?" asked That guy to the small amount of things in his home: the crushed un-bear, which was still alive but permanently in a pile of flatten flesh on the floor, and the bowl of long dead fish he had in the bathroom.
"No, you have to water us," said the fish.
But by this time That guy was already outside walking around.
Since he had never really been outside, his legs were a blinding white—so blinding that they, in fact, caused a glare for an innocent car driver, who swerved, crashed into a telephone pole, and blew up. The car shrapnel removed a child's arm, who was trying to play baseball with his friends. The remaining shrapnel was on fire, landing in bush, houses, and other places whilst starting a massive chain of fires. There were mobs of people panicking.
"How the hell am I going to get a phone to call the guy who will make me not fat so I can stand up and walk?"
"Maybe you should try obtain one," said an innocent civilian, ignoring the mass hysteria around them.
"Maybe you're already walking so you don't need to," said another.
"Maybe you're just an idiot who should jump off a bridge," said yet another.
"Yeah, I agree with the last one," said Nobody, who had come back from his vacation to Slovakia.
"Well, maybe you all should shut up!" said That guy menacingly, with a tear coming to his eye.
He ran down the road to some unknown place, all that was really describable about it was dark, ominous, scary, intimidating, cold, foggy, indescribable, lame, boring, and seeming as though some sort of criminal would jump out at you at any moment.
He decided to turn into an alleyway, which, in this neighborhood, is even lower than a shitty idea. But he went there nonetheless, as I am the author and I made him do it.
As he walked down the alleyway, he heard something behind him. That guy did a quick turnaround, a look back. He kept walking, slowly, with the same sort of quick breathing and tip-toe crouch you would expect from a stereotypical horror movie with attractive women walking around stupidly as the killer is coming around behind them.
And then, someone stepped out from the gloom, it looked as the he was holding a... GU—
Chapter 3: Nothing really happened in the last segment and you're just dreaming
Please excuse this chapter as it is a complete waste of space.
Also, cheese.
Chapter 4: The chapter with subchapters, sexual references (for only $39.99 a month), and boatloads of Latin alphabet characters
Subchapter 1: All three criteria mentioned above are fulfilled, and my work is somewhat accomplished
When That guy walked out of the alleyway he was half drunk, had whip scars all over him, and had 4 new STD's. In other words, the alleyway had once been a popular whorehouse, and he walked right into their "trap". Now, that covers the sexual references, as does this [1]. So let's continue with the story.
That guy got out of the neighborhood relatively unscathed otherwise, and decided to plod along the sidewalk aimlessly, literally. He took out his gun (which wasn't there in the first place, but who cares) and fired it in random directions, as he walked in any given direction, causing 14 car accidents and a dog to bark when he walked to close to its fence.
Then he got an idea.
"Oh, wait, I've got an idea!" he exclaimed even though I already made it obvious to the readers that he had got an idea.
"Hey, you just shut up and let me explain my idea. Now, since I hate my name," he said as he glared at me. "I've decided I should go to the legal offices and change it."
This idea was absolutely inspiring, however, the legal offices with the legal name changers who do legal activities with... legal... things, er, right.... was actually 24.6 miles away. At a long distance, That guy wasn't sure if he should walk or ride the bus into town.
"The legal offices are 24.6 miles away, silly," he explained. "Why would I even consider walking there?"
Subchapter 2: Lawyers, Hell, and a whole bunch of stale crackers
On his walk to the legal offices, That guy spent a lot of his time doing nothing special, so the entire walk was bland and boring. A detailed account of it would put me to sleep. Ugh. In that case, I'll just add some explosions to keep us all attentive.
Now that we're awake, That guy arrived at the legal offices. The building itself was white, boring, tasteless, just like the lawyers inside. Not to mention it was also made of white wall tires.
That guy, eager to change his name given by the divine power of the story (me), walked inside with a gleam of hope in his eyes. Little did he know all of his hopes and dreams would be crushed.
"Hey, I heard that!" he yelled.
Everyone in the office glared at him, and the old, smelly lawyers in their gray suits and small glasses simply got back to their mounds of paperwork and the stacks of cash they got from all of it. That guy, embarrassed, walked up to the front counter.
"Excuse, me, I would like to get my name changed."
The clerk at the desk looked up.
"WHAT DO YOU THINK I AM, YOUR PERSONAL SALVE? GO WAIT IN LINE LIKE EVERYONE ELSE!" yelled the clerk whilst pointing at the line, most of which was composed of dusty, cobweb-covered skeletons in a massive collection in front of a desk that had a sign that read "Out for lunch. Back in two decades". Near the end of the line, past the skeletons, were some heavily aged people, and people with signs of gray in their hair.
"Er, ok, thanks." said That guy as he walked to the back and stood patiently.
| If you need to get food, take a pee, or do some other pointless, useless crap I simply don't care about, now is the time to do it, as reading the rest of the story will take you a while. Also, I got tired of writing this crap and had to come up with ideas.
If you or anyone you know have quit reading by this time, you should be ashamed as you are part of the majority, and are not unique. A surprising study reveals that 74% of ?pedia readers quit before there are four paragraphs completed in a normal EPIC. And 24% of the remaining 26% don't make it past the sentence before the intermission. Therefore, if you are reading this you are part of the 2% minority. Also, all of the above statistics are crap and 90% of the above explanation is crap. |
As That guy was standing in line, two elderly people three spots in front of him started talking.
"Ok honey, it's been 43 years, maybe we should go home and see how Fluffy is doing."
"But dear, I need to file this lawsuit against old man baker for $30, I would certainly like that money back."
"Honey, he died sixteen years ago. I think you could just give up now."
"... oh my. Let us go check fluffy now."
The elderly couple walked out of line, and That guy moved up two spaces in line. However the elderly women tripped, fell, broke her hip, and could not get up; all the while the old man developed Alzheimer's and forgot where he was.
"It's a shame what happened to that couple, but I'm going to go quicker at least, so I can get rid of this wretched name."
He stood around for twenty minutes, and then a large dump truck busted through the walls of the building. Inside was a grizzly old man, your typical truck driver.
He yelled: "AAAAAAHHHHHHH, Now It's Tyme to pick up these here dead body skeletons!"
He drove the truck through the building in reverse with the bed down, scooping up the skeletons that were waiting in line, then drove away. It was a very odd moment, but the author had to do something to get the line moving.
And so, the three aging people in front of That guy walked up to the desk, which now had a sign that read "OPEN FOR YOUR BUSINESS" with a clerk behind it.
More time passed, as the old people in front of him slowly went away (exactly 3.68 days passed) and then it was That guy's turn at the window. He approached.
"Hello, I would like to get my name changed," said That guy.
"Well, isn't that spiffy." replied the clerk. He was clipping his finger nails with a swiss army knife.
"Why yes, yes it is."
"You'll have to wait for our special name lawyer to come in. He's on vacation."
"Oh really, that sucks."
"No, actually, it doesn't, cause I'm paid by the hour, and if you sit here for much longer, I would have earned nearly $2000."
And so That guy sat, doing nothing but staring at lawyers walking to the fax machine. The days drew on, and on, and on.... and yet nothing happened.
Then, one day, the name lawyer guy came in.
"The lawyer is in, you can be helped now, and I just earned $2014. YES!!" said the clerk, opening a drawer and popping a champaign bottle.
That guy stood up (which he had trouble doing before, shame) and walked into the lawyer's office. In the room was a table, two chairs, a potted plant, a bowl of crackers, and the lawyer.
"Oh crap, it's you," said Nobody, sitting in his spinning chair. "I thought you were going to jump off a bridge and die."
"Oh, Nobody, how good it is to see you!" exclaimed That guy.
"Talk all you want, I'm going to charge the hell out of you either way. Now, what did you want?"
"I would like to change my name."
"Wait, you never had a name, you were the unnamed character."
"Yeah, well, the author gave me a name. 'That guy'."
"What a crappy name! Hey, author you suck."
At this point Nobody had gone too far over the line, and disintegrated on the author's demand.
"Hey, I was going to use him!" said That guy.
He sat down and ate some stale crackers, which was mentioned in the subchapter title so it had to be a part in the actual chapter.
And, to make That guy feel better about himself, the author changed his name to Connor.
"Connor? How lovely!" yelled Connor. Once again, all the lawyers in the Law building glared at him.
"Sorry, he said, walking out of the place.
Chapter 5: Now with limited edition... words! Damn, I'm running out of ideas.
Connor was frolicking around merrily, as he had nothing to worry about in life. Little did he know, or maybe he did, I'm not really sure, that he had a some maniacal author that could change his situation to a bad one at any given time, say a pack of wild rhinos would come and squash him, or a tank would blow him up, or something terrible. But apparently he didn't notice.
"I did too!" he yelled back.
And then it happened.
A bird took a dump mid-flight and it landed on Connor's shoulder.
"GET BACK 'ERE, YOU FILTHY ANIMAL!" exclaimed Connor whilst taking out his shotgun. He wildly swung the weapon around, attempting to aim at the flying bird, which, in fact, didn't notice him at all and just kept flying.
When he shot the gun he missed the bird by yards, and instead hit a hot air balloon. The fabric torn, the balloon plummeted to the earth and blew up, ending the 50 foot journey which was actually supposed to be some sort of record setting balloon flight, or something.
Connor turned the other way and ran. While he was running, he tripped on a bobby pin, that was actually the same bobby pin that Missus Shankshire left back in the Pointless Prelude while taking her reptile to the store. Therefore, the Prelude was not pointless, though it claims to be. Crap, did I screw up.
Regardless, Connor got up and started walking in an attempt to look calm, because there were police everywhere, looking for suspects of the balloon shooting.
When the cops came near, Connor yelled "HE DID IT! while pointing at a hobo.
The police immediately took out their beating sticks and pummeled the homeless man, who was too drunk to know what was going on anyway. Once the police drove away, Connor was calm.
"Now what am I supposed to do, eh?" he asked.
At this point a guy walked up in the middle of the road.
"Hello. I would like to ask you some questions." he told Connor.
"Go for it." Connor said back.
"How old are you."
"I don't even know."
"When were you last doing jumping jacks."
"Sometime last year, I suppose."
"Have you ever seen a black person."
"Yeah, sure."
"Have you ever been associated with any clubs or clans, such as the KKK and the White League."
"No, What is this all ab—"
"I'm sorry sir, but you're coming with me, on suspicion of being a racist bastard who murdered several innocent black people."
"Wait, whut? Black people that are innocent? Is that even possible?"
"Oh, hmph. Good point. Crap. I guess you're free then. Good day, sir."
"What just happe—"
Before he could finish his sentence, Connor was struck in the head by a lead brick and warped to a different dimension, because the author had to stall.
Chapter six: Another dimension, another character (crap, what did I get myself into this time), another bland, predictable plot twist
When Connor woke up, he was half-naked with several octopi using their suckers to suck on him. It was a very awkward position; he was lying as though he were an egyptian walking person mixed with a star. Plus, the octopi felt funny.
"GET OFFA ME" he said, jumping up and removing the octopi quickly. He flung them into the inter-dimensional portal that he entered this dimension with, and the octopi were never seen again. EVER.
The setting was strange, there were trees, many, many trees, some in the shape of cocks, the others, mouths. He felt very uncomfortable, since he was a virgin who thought purity was the answer. He had never seen, much less touched, his own penis. The freak.
"Hello, unnamed character." said a voice from behind him.
Connor turned around. It was the squashed un-bear.
"Oh my god, you're the bear that broke into my cheetos stash!"
"Yes, it is I. But let's consider ourselves even, I mean, I was crushed by your poorly built fan."
"Even? EVEN? You ate my cheetos!"
"What's your point? Cheetos are smelly, taste bad, and are bad for you."
"It's not as though I care, you also bit off my arm and ate my remote!"
Upon saying this Connor waved the little stump of his arm. Normally this wouldn't have been included, but it was a key line in the beginning chapter, so meh.
"Oh yeah, that. Well. Anyway, let me get to explaining where you are. You are in the specially designed un-bear dimension where there are many trees and many fish and many berry plants. It is for all of the bears who have been turned into un-bears from unbearable things."
"What the hell, who would design this place anyway?"
"Why, he would," said the un-bear, pointing at another bear. It was Smokey the bear, the one who puts out forest fires.
"Smokey? The bear who puts out forest fires?" asked Connor in slight disbelief, even though I had already clearly it explained that it was in fact Smokey the bear, and he did not need to ask anyone else.
"Oh, shut up." Connor snarled.
"I am the new character, as the chapter title explained. Now it's time for the plot twist." said Smokey.
"Nah, we still need more droll dialogue and other crap to make the chapter longer and really seem EPIC."
"Oh, right on then mate, let's find something to do that will take up space."
"How about we squabble pointlessly?"
"That sounds like it might work."
"So what are we going to squabble about then, fire?"
"My specialty! I've been telling people to stop forest fires for ages now."
"Really? Honestly, that sounds like you should have committed suicide ages ago."
"Oh, as a somewhat popular and iconic figure I consider suicide every other week. Quite riveting."
"..."
"So... how bout them Bears, eh?"
"Ok, that's it Smokey, you're dead!"
Connor once again pulled one of his numerous guns and blew Smokey away.
"What if I don't want to put out my fire!?"
He shot a couple more rounds into Smokey, and the rest of the un-bears fled with fear. Now Connor was all alone, and the bland plot twist was finally complete.
"That was pretty bland, I have to admit, author," remarked Connor.
Quickly, however, another portal opened up and Connor was sucked back into the first dimension. What a waste of a chapter, yes?
Chapter 7: A more than likely stupid ending
When Connor regained consciousness, he was laying in his front yard. He looked around, and saw his neighbors wearing snow coats even though it was the middle of summer.
"It is not summer, the government is lying! Right, honey?" said the male neighbor.
"Yes they are, Dave!" said said before passing out from heat stroke and hitting her head on the pavement.
Connor was sick of watching his neighbors ignore everything around them, and so he looked the other way. He saw a lemonade stand. Tempted to get something to drink, he tried to stand up.
But he couldn't. He was fat again.
"Aw, crap!"
In reality, however, he was already standing, and he had just been tricked by the author again. He sighed, and walked over to the lemonade stand. Behind it were his neighbors.
"Wait, how did you get over here?"
They looked at him.
"Hey, you're the blind tub of lard that never comes out of his home. Since you never come out of your home, I simply refuse to believe you exist!" said the female, whose head was split in half.
"I would just like some lem—"
The woman held up her hand, cutting him off.
"You don't exist right now."
He sighed, once again, and wandered back to his home, which was made of twinkies.
Inside were his neighbors.
"What the hell, how did you get in here?"
"Now that you're inside, you exist. Would you like some lemonade?"
"Yeah, sure."
He took a cup off the table.
"How much do I ow—"
"Seventeen thousand dollars. We take credit.' she said, sticking out a credit card thing.
Connor just ran in the other direction. As soon as he went outside, however, his neighbors forgot about how much he owed them.
Pointless subchapter title, oh no!
When he stopped running, Connor was a third of the way around the world in the middle of an empty desert.
"What am I going to do now." he said.
At this point he concluded that he was going to walk in circles endlessly.
"Wow, what an idea. I hope this story sums itself up soon." he said before beginning his idea.
And so went Connor, walking endlessly. Unluckily for him, the story wasn't supposed to finish up right now, but the author got bored and made it sum up.
He walked in circles for two years non-stop. No sleeping, no eating, no drinking. He kept walking in circles until, and after those two years he finally died, due to freezing from the fourth nuclear winter in Earth's sad history. Those damn robots really need to stop blowing each other up.
Chapter 8: Tying the story into it's title, also, some other crap
The story is about going to the brim, er, because, um..... a cup represents Connor's life, which was full to the brim with stuff to do, places to go, which symbolizes the water. How's that for a underlying theme of the story?
Also, someone went into Connors house and moved the immovable chair, setting some sort of world record, and the guy got rich and famous.
The one reference I made a while back
- ↑ This reference is sexual
See Also
- Er, i dunno