Sorry I Ruined Your Orgy
Page 7
The Writer
1
Last year, Sleeping and Waking Up was on The New York Times’ bestsellers list for thirty-two consecutive weeks. The novel made the writer a lot of money. Sleeping and Waking Up was just the right book at just the right time. It was the time when houses were turning themselves inside out. Readers were looking for something simple to help them through the trauma. We wanted an 862 page description of a man sleeping. We wanted a 412 page description of a man waking up. We did not want any artsy-fartsy bullshit about a man dreaming.
The citizens of the United States are a simple people.
The writer had already spent all of his royalties on deviated septums and showroom dummies. He was looking for an idea for a novel that would keep a tarp over his head and his belly full of fossils.
They can hear the lotto balls in the writer’s head churning next door.
They can hear the writer think, What if a man programs his VCR?
They do not pay attention to his next idea. They are too busy looking out the window. They see an alligator driving an army.
They can hear the writer think, What if a doctor gave a man a prostate exam?
They do not pay attention to his next idea. They are too busy looking out the window. They see a gang of top hats sexually harassing a feathered boa.
They can hear the writer think, What if a baby cries during the night?
They do not pay attention to his next idea. They are too busy looking out the window. They see abominable snowmen enjoying the thrills of a water slide.
They can hear the writer think, What if a writer wakes up early in the morning to write a short story?
2
The writer had woken up early in the morning to write a short story. It was about a plumber. The plumber was having a really bad day. He could not plunge a customer’s toilet. The toilet was filled with bowel movement. Bowel movement was the plumber’s arch-nemesis.
The story was called “The Plumber.”
The writer had woken up early to write sentences until either the plumber defeated his arch-nemesis or was defeated by his arch-nemesis.
The arch-nemesis was a very passive arch-nemesis. It did not attack. It did not threaten to take over the world. It was an ordinary bowel movement, as most bowl movements are.
The writer hoped the plumber would defeat his arch-nemesis. He also hoped the trees outside his home would stop raping his cocker spaniel. He’d been having trouble sleeping through her screams. The writer found this unacceptable. He needed his sleep. Without a good night’s sleep, he found it difficult to discover whether or not various blue collar workers were able to defeat their arch-nemeses.
There is a knock on the writer’s office door. The writer opens the door. The state of Virginia charges into the room.
The writer was afraid this would happen. The great state of Virginia charges into the writer’s office every day, but usually not until after 9 AM. This is why the writer woke up early to write his short story.
The writer says, “Now I won’t ever know if the plumber defeats his arch-nemesis.” Then he removes a lasso from his desk drawer, ties a noose, puts his head in the noose, throws the other end of the lasso around the city of Richmond, and insults Virginia’s virtue.
Virginia is very offended. It is very angry. It jumps up and down in an attempt to work through its rage.
The writer gasps his last breath. The plumber will have to defeat his arch-nemesis without him.
How to Get Beautiful Women Into Bed
It is the first day of spring, the day when the men of the village make their blood sacrifices for the upcoming year. Blood sacrifices so they’ll have good luck with the women of the village. Blood sacrifices so they’ll have many opportunities to fuck lots of hot chicks.
In the morning, they burn the crops and execute the cattle. After lunch, they decapitate half of the children in the village. For dessert, they rape and murder all the women between the ages of 25 and 28. Before dinner, they declare war on all the nations of the Earth. Around bedtime, they nuclear-bomb all those nations back to the ice age.
The men in the village now have the self-confidence to fuck lots of hot chicks. They do not know why this is. It’s just the way things are done in this village.
Electronic Gaming News
I like pausing the game
when I’m on my last life,
when a fiendish and ridiculous foe
is about to fall on my head,
when there’s nowhere to run.
I like to pause the game
and watch the frozen image for hours,
delaying the inevitable.
About the Artist
Sam Pink lives in Chicago, IL. He is the author of The Self-Esteem Holocaust Comes Home (Lazy Fascist Press), Person (Lazy Fascist Press), Frowns Need Friends Too (Afterbirth Books), and I Am Going to Clone Myself Then Kill the Clone and Eat It (Paperhero Press).
Visit him online at:
impersonalelectroniccommunication.com.
About the Author
Bradley Sands lives in Boulder, CO, where he edits Bust Down the Door and Eat All the Chickens. He is the author of My Heart Said No, But the Camera Crew Said Yes! (Raw Dog Screaming Press), It Came From Below the Belt (Afterbirth Books), Disappointing Sophomoric Effort (forthcoming), and TV Snorted My Brain (forthcoming).
Visit him online at bradleysands.com.