Satyr hadn't been to sleep in 2 days.
The first day he was up working on a new invention. Inspired by the Memory Neuralizer in the movie Men In Black, Satyr wanted to make something similar.
He succeeded....somewhat.
What Satyr managed to create was what he called a Hypno And Reducer Memory Ray, or a HARM Ray for short.
It looked like a child's ray gun. It held five "doses". When a person was shot with a dose, the shooter would be able to make the victim do anything they wanted, but only for five hours, then after the time was up, the victim would forget everything in the past six hours of their life.
Unfortunately, Satyr was only able to create five doses for the gun. He used one the second day to figure out what it did.
Lucky for Satyr, the nun didn't know how she ended up in at a sleazy hotel wearing a g-string and a wet t-shirt, but she was shocked to find herself in that state.
Satyr now knew that before the five hours were up, he had to get the victim back to a familiar place.
Satisfied, but disappointed he only had five doses left, Satyr went to bed.
The next day, Satyr had gotten on the computer. Gweg was watching TV.
Satyr was looking up something, hoping he wouldn't find it. And when he did, he let out a yell.
Satyr: Those sons-of-bitches!
Gweg: What is your problem?
Satyr: They stole my idea!
Gweg: Hate to break it to you, but they already have two-in-one fast food restaurants.
Satyr: I'm not talking about that, I'm talking about this!
Satyr pointed to the screen. Gweg got up and looked at it. He saw a page on the Internet Movie Database for a Choose Your Own Adventure movie.
Satyr: That was my idea. They aren't going to get away with this.
Gweg: Well, I'll let you work this out on your own. I'm going for a walk.
Satyr: Have fun.
Gweg: Oh, before I go, I need to ask you what you were up to yesterday.
Satyr: Why?
Gweg: Well, the paper today had an interesting little article about this nun...
Satyr: Whatever it was, it wasn't me.
Gweg: Yeah, I bet.
Gweg went to the park. It was the best place in town to do some walking.
Gweg was walking for twenty minutes when he saw something amazing.
He saw the woman of his dreams sitting on the park bench.
Now is the time for your first choice.
Click here if you want Gweg to ask the woman out.
Click here if you don't want Gweg to ask the woman out.
Monday, April 24, 2006
Thursday, April 06, 2006
Snakes On A Satyr
There are those who think the apocalypse will occur on June 6th, 2006, or 06/06/06 if you will. Gweg, on the other hand, knew for a fact, that the apocalypse would not be happening then.
It was going to happen on August 18th, 2006.
The first signs of the impending doom came to Gweg a little over a year ago.
Gweg had been watching Scientific American Frontiers, one of his favorite programs. Satyr was busy at the computer.
Out of paranoid habit, Gweg would periodically glance over at Satyr, just to keep him in check. Every time Gweg looked over there, Satyr had been staring intently at the screen.
Just as Scientific American Frontiers was finishing up, Satyr let out a maniacal laugh. He then got up from the computer desk, walked over to Gweg, said four words to him, laughed, and went to bed.
The four words had been: Snakes on a Plane.
Ever since that time, Gweg has had to endure an onslaught of annoyance from Satyr dealing with the subject. Gweg was hoping that the whole thing was one of Satyr's "four week fads" and that it would blow over.
Not only would Gweg find out it wasn't, but he would find out it was much worse than he thought.
The popularity of Snakes on a Plane was growing. Shirts, buttons, songs, fan clubs...And the movie wasn't even out yet. Satyr was in heaven, Gweg was in hell.
As April 1st came around, Gweg was hoping Samuel L. Jackson would hold a press conference and exclaim, "April Fucking Fools, Motherfuckers!", but it wasn't to be.
And last night, Gweg though he could escape the insanity by watching some CNN. He was wrong.
CNN seemed to have been raped by Satyr himself, and was given a new strand of genital warts called Snakes on a Plane.
That was when Gweg knew for a fact, that on Aug 18th, the world would end.
The next day, Gweg woke early and got on the computer. Gweg went to Beethoven.com, put on his headphones, and let the sound of classical music calm his nerves. These moments of tranquility were the only times Gweg was ever truly at peace. Satyr wouldn't be up for another three hours at the least. Gweg was in paradise.
And not four minutes after Gweg started listening, was there a knock on the door.
Gweg got up and answered the door. Deep down, Gweg knew this interruption was a bad omen. He was right.
On the other side of the door was a delivery man and what sounded like steam letting out in a bunch of small places.
Delivery Man: I've got some crates to deliver here.
Gweg: Crates?
Delivery Man: Yeah. Crates filled with live animals.
Gweg: You must be delivering them to Old Man Roberts. He's always getting his hands on exotic animals. It's a real problem.
Delivery Man: Nope. The form says the shipment is for a V. Satyr
Gweg's stomach sank into feet.
Gweg: He's asleep. Uh, What kind of animals are in the crates?
Delivery Man: Snakes. Listen, I've got them out here in the hall. You can just sign for them, I've got more deliveries to make.
Gweg: No. I'm not going to sign for them. Take them back.
Delivery Man: Listen pal, I had to drive three hours with those goddamn things in the back. The hissing was unbearable. There's no way in hell, those are going back into my truck. I'll just sign for the goddamn things myself.
Gweg: You can't do that!
The Delivery Man did it anyway. He took the copy of the form off of his clipboard and threw it at Gweg. He took off down the hall.
Gweg stood there in a daze. He looked out in the hall and saw three crates. Out in the hall, the hissing was even louder.
Gweg turned around and saw Satyr standing in the living room.
Satyr: What the hell is up with all the damn racket out here? I was having that dream about Keira Knightly again. You know, the one where she can act.
Gweg: Your snakes are here.
Satyr's face lit up like it was Christmas morning. He ran out into the hall and looked over the crates.
Satyr: Yes! This is going to be great.
Satyr looked around the boxes and got a puzzled look on his face. He turned to Gweg.
Satyr: Did the delivery man give you any more packages?
Gweg: No, he didn't.
Satyr: Oh, this is just great! They didn't deliver the mice! How am I supposed to feed them?
Gweg: That's a shame. Better send them back.
Satyr: No, it'll be alright. I'll find another way to feed them. Hey. Didn't Ms. Johnson in room 415 just have twins?
Gweg: Yeah she did, why?
Satyr: Just curious. I should go up there and congratulate her.
Gweg grabbed Satyr's arm.
Gweg: You are not going up there.
Satyr: These snakes are going to be fed one way or another. Now, I'm going to go get my coat and I'm going down to the pet store. Coming?
Gweg: No, I'm not going with you to the pet store. But before you leave, do you mind answering me one simple question?
Satyr: Ok, shoot.
Gweg: WHY IN THE BLUE FUCKING HELL DID YOU ORDER A GODDAMN BUNCH OF SNAKES!
Satyr: Keep your voice down, Jesus. I got them because I'm planning to do a social experiment.
Gweg: And what does this involve.
Satyr: When Snakes On A Plane comes out Aug. 18th, I'm going to unleash the snakes into a theater showing the film.
Gweg: That isn't a "social experiment". It's one of your stupid ass pranks.
Satyr: That's where you are wrong. I'm going to study the audience's reaction as they are put through a similar experience akin to the one they have just witnessed on the big screen.
Gweg: And just what are reasons for doing this social experiment? I doubt you got up one morning and thought to yourself "Hey. It would be great if I did something incredibly stupid in relation to this incredibly stupid ass movie coming out," Then again, knowing you, that's probably exactly what you did.
Satyr: You think you know me so well huh? Well, I know all about you Gweg. Yeah, that's right. I know exactly what makes us different. I'm not afraid to take risks. You see, I've been going through your internet browser history, and I know you've been checking out the stock market. In fact, you've been doing this for quite some time. And yet, you don't own any stocks! You are too afraid to take that final plunge. Nou me. I dive right in, with my eyes wide open and despite all of the failures I have encountered, I have no regrets. You, on the other hand, are the embodiment of regret.
Gweg: The stock market is a little more complicated than that! You have to study and analyze what is going on. You can't just point and choose and hope for the best, that'd be idiotic. And If I ever catch you looking through my browser history again, I will break every one of your goddamn fingers. Now, answer my question, what gave you the idea to do this.
Satyr: I've been talking to a college professor who teaches psychology. He is very interested in the phenomenon that is Snakes On A Plane. He came up with the idea and I'm going to implement it.
Gweg: You are lying. No college professor would ever...
Satyr hushed him.
Satyr: Do you hear anything?
Gweg listened.
Gweg: No, I don't.
Satyr: Well, that's odd, because other than your loud mouth, I've been hearing a hissing sound, and now it's gone.
Gweg's eyes widened with horror. He ran out into the hall.
The tops of the crates had been dislodged. A note was pinned to one of them. It read:
"Don't ever fuck with a delivery man".
Satyr read the note.
Satyr: What did you do to him?
Gweg: I wouldn't sign the delivery form.
Satyr: Way to go. Now you are going to help me find the snakes.
That's when they heard a scream.
Gweg: What kinds of snakes did you get?
Satyr: Cobras, rattlesnakes, copperheads, vipers, you know, the cool kinds.
Gweg: You mean the venomous kinds.
Satyr: Venomous?
Gweg: Yes, idiot. The kinds that can kill you with a bite.
Satyr: Well now, that is all sorts of suck right there. We need to ask ourselves one question: W.W.S.L.J.D.?
Gweg: What?
Satyr: What would Samuel L. Jackson do?
Gweg: He is an actor. Yes, he might be a very good actor, but he is an actor nevertheless. And what an actor would do in this situation is not going to help us.
Satyr: You're right. We need Chuck Norris.
Gweg's eyes filled with a fiery rage. Gweg reached into his pocket and brought out a pocket knife. Gweg tackled Satyr to the floor and held the knife to his throat.
Gweg: If there is one thing I hate hearing about more than Snakes on a Plane, it is Chuck fucking Norris! Now, if you ever bring him up again, I will cut off your fucking head and mount it on the wall!
Satyr: Jesus Christ! All right.
Gweg got off of Satyr and put his knife away.
Gweg: Good, I'm glad we got that cleared up. Now let's get everybody out of the building.
They went up to the fourth floor first. It was they very top floor.
They knocked on room 401. An old man answered the door.
Old Man Roberts: How can I help you boys?
Gweg: Sir, there is an emergency situation and you need to get out of the building.
Old Man Roberts: What's going on?
Satyr: There are motherfucking snakes in the motherfucking apartment building!
Old Man Roberts growled and slammed the door in their faces. They heard him say on the other side "fucking kids".
Gweg: You are not helping.
Satyr: Oh yeah? Why don't we just use the fire alarm?
Gweg: Go to hell.
Gweg pulled on the fire alarm. It went off and the occupants of the fourth floor came out of their apartments.
Gweg: Nothing to be afraid of folks! Just come down the stairs and exit the building in an orderly fashion.
They all reached the stairs and stopped when they got there. The stairway was covered with snakes.
Satyr: What now?
Gweg: I don't know. We need something to distract them.
Satyr: I'm on it.
Satyr found Ms. Johnson who was holding on to her two babies. Satyr grabbed one and threw it down the stairs. The snakes were on it immediately.
Ms. Johnson: My baby!
Satyr: It's all right, it's not like you don't have another one.
Satyr smiled triumphantly. But the smile was wiped off his face, due to the fact that Gweg had punched him right in the face.
Satyr came to three hours later.
He woke up in a hospital room. Gweg was sitting by his side.
Gweg: You should be in a prison infirmary for what you did.
Satyr: What I did? What I did was save our asses. You see, that's another thing that differs between you and I. If you had to shoot a baby to save the world, you couldn't do it. I, however, would not only do it, but I'd do it with a big smile on my face.
Gweg: That's because you are a monster. And the only reason you are not in jail, is because Ms. Johnson, and every other resident of the fourth floor is dead.
Satyr: The snakes got all of them?
Gweg: No. They were too afraid to go down the stairs, so they all jumped out of the windows.
Satyr: How did they die from falling four stories?
Gweg: They landed into Old Man Roberts' alligator pond.
Satyr: Ouch.
Gweg: Anyway, your snakes are all dead. Animal control decided to kill them all. The police think they belonged to Old Man Roberts, so they won't be pinning the bill on you. The landlord is raising everyone's rent until some new residents move into the fourth floor.
Satyr: All of my snakes are dead?
Gweg: Yep. Looks like you won't be able to perform that social experiment after all.
Satyr: Damn. Watching all of those people in that theater run from the snakes was going to be funny as hell.
It was going to happen on August 18th, 2006.
The first signs of the impending doom came to Gweg a little over a year ago.
Gweg had been watching Scientific American Frontiers, one of his favorite programs. Satyr was busy at the computer.
Out of paranoid habit, Gweg would periodically glance over at Satyr, just to keep him in check. Every time Gweg looked over there, Satyr had been staring intently at the screen.
Just as Scientific American Frontiers was finishing up, Satyr let out a maniacal laugh. He then got up from the computer desk, walked over to Gweg, said four words to him, laughed, and went to bed.
The four words had been: Snakes on a Plane.
Ever since that time, Gweg has had to endure an onslaught of annoyance from Satyr dealing with the subject. Gweg was hoping that the whole thing was one of Satyr's "four week fads" and that it would blow over.
Not only would Gweg find out it wasn't, but he would find out it was much worse than he thought.
The popularity of Snakes on a Plane was growing. Shirts, buttons, songs, fan clubs...And the movie wasn't even out yet. Satyr was in heaven, Gweg was in hell.
As April 1st came around, Gweg was hoping Samuel L. Jackson would hold a press conference and exclaim, "April Fucking Fools, Motherfuckers!", but it wasn't to be.
And last night, Gweg though he could escape the insanity by watching some CNN. He was wrong.
CNN seemed to have been raped by Satyr himself, and was given a new strand of genital warts called Snakes on a Plane.
That was when Gweg knew for a fact, that on Aug 18th, the world would end.
The next day, Gweg woke early and got on the computer. Gweg went to Beethoven.com, put on his headphones, and let the sound of classical music calm his nerves. These moments of tranquility were the only times Gweg was ever truly at peace. Satyr wouldn't be up for another three hours at the least. Gweg was in paradise.
And not four minutes after Gweg started listening, was there a knock on the door.
Gweg got up and answered the door. Deep down, Gweg knew this interruption was a bad omen. He was right.
On the other side of the door was a delivery man and what sounded like steam letting out in a bunch of small places.
Delivery Man: I've got some crates to deliver here.
Gweg: Crates?
Delivery Man: Yeah. Crates filled with live animals.
Gweg: You must be delivering them to Old Man Roberts. He's always getting his hands on exotic animals. It's a real problem.
Delivery Man: Nope. The form says the shipment is for a V. Satyr
Gweg's stomach sank into feet.
Gweg: He's asleep. Uh, What kind of animals are in the crates?
Delivery Man: Snakes. Listen, I've got them out here in the hall. You can just sign for them, I've got more deliveries to make.
Gweg: No. I'm not going to sign for them. Take them back.
Delivery Man: Listen pal, I had to drive three hours with those goddamn things in the back. The hissing was unbearable. There's no way in hell, those are going back into my truck. I'll just sign for the goddamn things myself.
Gweg: You can't do that!
The Delivery Man did it anyway. He took the copy of the form off of his clipboard and threw it at Gweg. He took off down the hall.
Gweg stood there in a daze. He looked out in the hall and saw three crates. Out in the hall, the hissing was even louder.
Gweg turned around and saw Satyr standing in the living room.
Satyr: What the hell is up with all the damn racket out here? I was having that dream about Keira Knightly again. You know, the one where she can act.
Gweg: Your snakes are here.
Satyr's face lit up like it was Christmas morning. He ran out into the hall and looked over the crates.
Satyr: Yes! This is going to be great.
Satyr looked around the boxes and got a puzzled look on his face. He turned to Gweg.
Satyr: Did the delivery man give you any more packages?
Gweg: No, he didn't.
Satyr: Oh, this is just great! They didn't deliver the mice! How am I supposed to feed them?
Gweg: That's a shame. Better send them back.
Satyr: No, it'll be alright. I'll find another way to feed them. Hey. Didn't Ms. Johnson in room 415 just have twins?
Gweg: Yeah she did, why?
Satyr: Just curious. I should go up there and congratulate her.
Gweg grabbed Satyr's arm.
Gweg: You are not going up there.
Satyr: These snakes are going to be fed one way or another. Now, I'm going to go get my coat and I'm going down to the pet store. Coming?
Gweg: No, I'm not going with you to the pet store. But before you leave, do you mind answering me one simple question?
Satyr: Ok, shoot.
Gweg: WHY IN THE BLUE FUCKING HELL DID YOU ORDER A GODDAMN BUNCH OF SNAKES!
Satyr: Keep your voice down, Jesus. I got them because I'm planning to do a social experiment.
Gweg: And what does this involve.
Satyr: When Snakes On A Plane comes out Aug. 18th, I'm going to unleash the snakes into a theater showing the film.
Gweg: That isn't a "social experiment". It's one of your stupid ass pranks.
Satyr: That's where you are wrong. I'm going to study the audience's reaction as they are put through a similar experience akin to the one they have just witnessed on the big screen.
Gweg: And just what are reasons for doing this social experiment? I doubt you got up one morning and thought to yourself "Hey. It would be great if I did something incredibly stupid in relation to this incredibly stupid ass movie coming out," Then again, knowing you, that's probably exactly what you did.
Satyr: You think you know me so well huh? Well, I know all about you Gweg. Yeah, that's right. I know exactly what makes us different. I'm not afraid to take risks. You see, I've been going through your internet browser history, and I know you've been checking out the stock market. In fact, you've been doing this for quite some time. And yet, you don't own any stocks! You are too afraid to take that final plunge. Nou me. I dive right in, with my eyes wide open and despite all of the failures I have encountered, I have no regrets. You, on the other hand, are the embodiment of regret.
Gweg: The stock market is a little more complicated than that! You have to study and analyze what is going on. You can't just point and choose and hope for the best, that'd be idiotic. And If I ever catch you looking through my browser history again, I will break every one of your goddamn fingers. Now, answer my question, what gave you the idea to do this.
Satyr: I've been talking to a college professor who teaches psychology. He is very interested in the phenomenon that is Snakes On A Plane. He came up with the idea and I'm going to implement it.
Gweg: You are lying. No college professor would ever...
Satyr hushed him.
Satyr: Do you hear anything?
Gweg listened.
Gweg: No, I don't.
Satyr: Well, that's odd, because other than your loud mouth, I've been hearing a hissing sound, and now it's gone.
Gweg's eyes widened with horror. He ran out into the hall.
The tops of the crates had been dislodged. A note was pinned to one of them. It read:
"Don't ever fuck with a delivery man".
Satyr read the note.
Satyr: What did you do to him?
Gweg: I wouldn't sign the delivery form.
Satyr: Way to go. Now you are going to help me find the snakes.
That's when they heard a scream.
Gweg: What kinds of snakes did you get?
Satyr: Cobras, rattlesnakes, copperheads, vipers, you know, the cool kinds.
Gweg: You mean the venomous kinds.
Satyr: Venomous?
Gweg: Yes, idiot. The kinds that can kill you with a bite.
Satyr: Well now, that is all sorts of suck right there. We need to ask ourselves one question: W.W.S.L.J.D.?
Gweg: What?
Satyr: What would Samuel L. Jackson do?
Gweg: He is an actor. Yes, he might be a very good actor, but he is an actor nevertheless. And what an actor would do in this situation is not going to help us.
Satyr: You're right. We need Chuck Norris.
Gweg's eyes filled with a fiery rage. Gweg reached into his pocket and brought out a pocket knife. Gweg tackled Satyr to the floor and held the knife to his throat.
Gweg: If there is one thing I hate hearing about more than Snakes on a Plane, it is Chuck fucking Norris! Now, if you ever bring him up again, I will cut off your fucking head and mount it on the wall!
Satyr: Jesus Christ! All right.
Gweg got off of Satyr and put his knife away.
Gweg: Good, I'm glad we got that cleared up. Now let's get everybody out of the building.
They went up to the fourth floor first. It was they very top floor.
They knocked on room 401. An old man answered the door.
Old Man Roberts: How can I help you boys?
Gweg: Sir, there is an emergency situation and you need to get out of the building.
Old Man Roberts: What's going on?
Satyr: There are motherfucking snakes in the motherfucking apartment building!
Old Man Roberts growled and slammed the door in their faces. They heard him say on the other side "fucking kids".
Gweg: You are not helping.
Satyr: Oh yeah? Why don't we just use the fire alarm?
Gweg: Go to hell.
Gweg pulled on the fire alarm. It went off and the occupants of the fourth floor came out of their apartments.
Gweg: Nothing to be afraid of folks! Just come down the stairs and exit the building in an orderly fashion.
They all reached the stairs and stopped when they got there. The stairway was covered with snakes.
Satyr: What now?
Gweg: I don't know. We need something to distract them.
Satyr: I'm on it.
Satyr found Ms. Johnson who was holding on to her two babies. Satyr grabbed one and threw it down the stairs. The snakes were on it immediately.
Ms. Johnson: My baby!
Satyr: It's all right, it's not like you don't have another one.
Satyr smiled triumphantly. But the smile was wiped off his face, due to the fact that Gweg had punched him right in the face.
Satyr came to three hours later.
He woke up in a hospital room. Gweg was sitting by his side.
Gweg: You should be in a prison infirmary for what you did.
Satyr: What I did? What I did was save our asses. You see, that's another thing that differs between you and I. If you had to shoot a baby to save the world, you couldn't do it. I, however, would not only do it, but I'd do it with a big smile on my face.
Gweg: That's because you are a monster. And the only reason you are not in jail, is because Ms. Johnson, and every other resident of the fourth floor is dead.
Satyr: The snakes got all of them?
Gweg: No. They were too afraid to go down the stairs, so they all jumped out of the windows.
Satyr: How did they die from falling four stories?
Gweg: They landed into Old Man Roberts' alligator pond.
Satyr: Ouch.
Gweg: Anyway, your snakes are all dead. Animal control decided to kill them all. The police think they belonged to Old Man Roberts, so they won't be pinning the bill on you. The landlord is raising everyone's rent until some new residents move into the fourth floor.
Satyr: All of my snakes are dead?
Gweg: Yep. Looks like you won't be able to perform that social experiment after all.
Satyr: Damn. Watching all of those people in that theater run from the snakes was going to be funny as hell.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)