CaptainWacky
I want to smell dark matter
(Johnny Nose wakes to find himself in bed. He looks around, confused.)
Johnny: This isn't my bed. I didn't wank HERE last night!
Voice: That's right, Johnny.
(And OLD MAN with a BEARD steps out of the shadows.)
Old Man: This is your creator's bed.
Johnny: What are you talking about, scummy? I created Johnny Nose! I mean, I am Johnny Nose!
Old Man: I know you believe both those things to be true, and in a way they almost are, but there's really more to it than that...
Johnny: Shut up! And get out of my...this bedroom! CUNTBURGER!
(Johnny jumps up to attack the old man but catches his own reflection in the mirror as he does. He looks different. His face has much less character than normal. His skin is pale, like he never sees sunlight. His eyes look tired and dead. And his penis is a lot smaller.)
Johnny: WHAT THE FUCK?
Old Man: That's your creator, Johnny. You only exist inside his head. That head.
Johnny: ...what?
Old Man: He's what you'd call a loser, Johnny.
Johnny: I'd call myself a loser!
Old Man: Well, quite. NOW anyway. He's negativity, his absolute lack of any kind of joy or creativity is seeking even into you, his proudest creation.
Johnny: Why would he create me? What for?
Old Man: Why does anyone create wacky fictional characters? To express himself. On a message board, full of others losers, all at various points along the Autism spectrum. Well, some were just psychotic. It was the only place your creator - he called himself CaptainWacky by the way - could fit in. But he couldn't just be himself because, well, he had no himself to be. No life, you see. No interaction with other human beings. Nothing. So he invented you. Johnny Nose. He told outrageous stories about this character. And the rest of the board, well, a subsection of it anyway, enjoyed them. They appreciated Johnny Nose.
Johnny: Damn right they did!
Old Man: But it couldn't last forever. He faded. He was still nothing. Creativity has to feed on something. He had nothing. They demadned new Johnny Nose stories, but he couldn't go on telling them. He couldn't do anything, in the end.
Johnny: He's dead? But I can see him staring at me in the mirror with his souless eyes...
Old Man: Oh he's much worse than dead, Johnny. He's the living dead.
Johnny: A vampire? But he has a reflection!
Old Man: I don't mean that...you fool. He's...in bed. That's he is now. He isn't even CaptainWacky anymore. He's nothing. This is the lowerst point in his life. I just thought you should know.
Johnny: But...I'm not real. So how can I know/
Old Man: I brought you forth. Made you real. With technology.
Johnny: What kind?
Old Man: Technology...FROM THE FUTURE. For you see, the reaosn why I know all this...is because I am him. The creator. CaptainWacky. Even Johnny Nose. Call him what you want...I'm him from the future. I came back in time to kill myself NOW, because the next forty years are an agony, every day worse than the last, less and less thoughts in my head, nothing at all, just existing...I've had enough. I want to die, AT THIS POINT IN TIME. That's why I'm here. I want you to know about it. You were MY biggest success but when I couldn't keep you up, you were my biggest failure. I hate you. I love you. I will kill you.
Johnny: Oh. Fuck off.
(Johnny headbutts the old man.)
Johnny: I don't believe a word of that shite. I control my own destiny. I'm real, realer than you, ya old cunt! Realer than that shit I see in the mirror. I'M JOHNNY FUCKDAMN NOSE! And I've had enough of the self pity. I've been wallowing in it myself lately...thanks for snapping me out of it. I dont know what this is, a dream, a vision, whatever...but it's not the real world. So I'll be waking up now.
Old Man: No, you'll be going back to sleeping, condemning me to a life of agony!
Johnny: Oh well.
(Johnny jumps back in the bed and starts wanking.)
Johnny: I'M THINKING ABOUT A CERTAIN BUFFY CHARACTER NOW. YOU SHOUD KNOW THE ONE. LAUGH OUT LOUD!
Old Man: YOU CUNT!
(Everything goes all SWIRLY and suddenly Johnny is back in his real bed...still wanking.)
Johnny: YES!
(He jumps out of bed.)
Johnny: What a gay dream. I should punch a dog for that. I'm no one's creation, no one could make me. But...CaptainWacky. Sounds like a good name to use on the internet. Maybe I will. But right now? I'M GOING TO RAPE SOME TURNIPS, YEEHAW!
(He runs outside comletely naked in front of many children.)
FIN
Johnny: This isn't my bed. I didn't wank HERE last night!
Voice: That's right, Johnny.
(And OLD MAN with a BEARD steps out of the shadows.)
Old Man: This is your creator's bed.
Johnny: What are you talking about, scummy? I created Johnny Nose! I mean, I am Johnny Nose!
Old Man: I know you believe both those things to be true, and in a way they almost are, but there's really more to it than that...
Johnny: Shut up! And get out of my...this bedroom! CUNTBURGER!
(Johnny jumps up to attack the old man but catches his own reflection in the mirror as he does. He looks different. His face has much less character than normal. His skin is pale, like he never sees sunlight. His eyes look tired and dead. And his penis is a lot smaller.)
Johnny: WHAT THE FUCK?
Old Man: That's your creator, Johnny. You only exist inside his head. That head.
Johnny: ...what?
Old Man: He's what you'd call a loser, Johnny.
Johnny: I'd call myself a loser!
Old Man: Well, quite. NOW anyway. He's negativity, his absolute lack of any kind of joy or creativity is seeking even into you, his proudest creation.
Johnny: Why would he create me? What for?
Old Man: Why does anyone create wacky fictional characters? To express himself. On a message board, full of others losers, all at various points along the Autism spectrum. Well, some were just psychotic. It was the only place your creator - he called himself CaptainWacky by the way - could fit in. But he couldn't just be himself because, well, he had no himself to be. No life, you see. No interaction with other human beings. Nothing. So he invented you. Johnny Nose. He told outrageous stories about this character. And the rest of the board, well, a subsection of it anyway, enjoyed them. They appreciated Johnny Nose.
Johnny: Damn right they did!
Old Man: But it couldn't last forever. He faded. He was still nothing. Creativity has to feed on something. He had nothing. They demadned new Johnny Nose stories, but he couldn't go on telling them. He couldn't do anything, in the end.
Johnny: He's dead? But I can see him staring at me in the mirror with his souless eyes...
Old Man: Oh he's much worse than dead, Johnny. He's the living dead.
Johnny: A vampire? But he has a reflection!
Old Man: I don't mean that...you fool. He's...in bed. That's he is now. He isn't even CaptainWacky anymore. He's nothing. This is the lowerst point in his life. I just thought you should know.
Johnny: But...I'm not real. So how can I know/
Old Man: I brought you forth. Made you real. With technology.
Johnny: What kind?
Old Man: Technology...FROM THE FUTURE. For you see, the reaosn why I know all this...is because I am him. The creator. CaptainWacky. Even Johnny Nose. Call him what you want...I'm him from the future. I came back in time to kill myself NOW, because the next forty years are an agony, every day worse than the last, less and less thoughts in my head, nothing at all, just existing...I've had enough. I want to die, AT THIS POINT IN TIME. That's why I'm here. I want you to know about it. You were MY biggest success but when I couldn't keep you up, you were my biggest failure. I hate you. I love you. I will kill you.
Johnny: Oh. Fuck off.
(Johnny headbutts the old man.)
Johnny: I don't believe a word of that shite. I control my own destiny. I'm real, realer than you, ya old cunt! Realer than that shit I see in the mirror. I'M JOHNNY FUCKDAMN NOSE! And I've had enough of the self pity. I've been wallowing in it myself lately...thanks for snapping me out of it. I dont know what this is, a dream, a vision, whatever...but it's not the real world. So I'll be waking up now.
Old Man: No, you'll be going back to sleeping, condemning me to a life of agony!
Johnny: Oh well.
(Johnny jumps back in the bed and starts wanking.)
Johnny: I'M THINKING ABOUT A CERTAIN BUFFY CHARACTER NOW. YOU SHOUD KNOW THE ONE. LAUGH OUT LOUD!
Old Man: YOU CUNT!
(Everything goes all SWIRLY and suddenly Johnny is back in his real bed...still wanking.)
Johnny: YES!
(He jumps out of bed.)
Johnny: What a gay dream. I should punch a dog for that. I'm no one's creation, no one could make me. But...CaptainWacky. Sounds like a good name to use on the internet. Maybe I will. But right now? I'M GOING TO RAPE SOME TURNIPS, YEEHAW!
(He runs outside comletely naked in front of many children.)
FIN
