CaptainWacky
I want to smell dark matter
When I was born the doctor took one look at me and said "this is a baby." My mother was disappointed, she'd been hoping for a packet of prawn cocktail crisps. Or so she told me in a drunke rage fourteen years later, which is where w'll be pick up the story.
"You were a fucking disappointment you dog," she said, to the dog, then turn to me. "You were a fucking disappointment you non-packet of prawn cocktail flavoured crisps," she said, before swallowing a bap whole.
"I'm sorry," said. "I'll put some shelves up." She was always making me put shelves up. We didn't have anything to put on them except more shelves. Well, planks of wood which would become shelves once they were put up.
"Your father was a computer!" she shouted in an unexpected Star Trek reference (unexpected because this was 1958.)
On putting up my twenty ninth shelf of the week I wondered if there was anything more to life. I asked the sailor who happened to be passing by the window this very question. He just kind of shrugged then pretend he hadn't heard me at all and shuffled away. I asked the question again to the giant mechanical monkey that next passed. It said "FRANCE."
The next day I sent off to France with a pocketful of dreams and a bag full of shelves. I used the shelves to fashion a crude rowing boat and rowed my way over the channel. When I arrived I found that I wasn't in France at all but rather the lost City of Atlantis.
"This is odd," I said to a robot butler.
"DO YOU WANT A DRINK?" it asked, as it was the only thing it was programmed to say.
"I'll have a moop cola," I said, testing the robot.
"NO SUCH BRAND, ERROR, ERROR," it said and exploded. I was exiled from Atlantis eight seconds later.
On arriving in France I got a job as the world's youngest Eiffel Tower polisher. I found the job difficult as they gave me no polish and I had to use my tongue, urine and some snotty rags a peasant had thrown at me when I had asked for directions. I still managed to win the "WORLD'S BEST EIFFEL TOWER POLISHER" award eight hours later and was rewarded with my own flat above a shop that sold needles and a job running the shop as the owner had just commited suicide by swallowing five baps and an ovary.
My first customer was none other than fictional character and detective Sherlock Holmes who asked for "ten magnifying glasses, a Sherlock Holmes hat, some shoes for a duck and heroin." I was unable to serve him and he kicked me in the gut and left mumbling something about "metal caves."
Nine days later I managed to stand and found that all the needles had been stolen and my shop burned to the ground. Upset, I decided to return to Britain and point at my mother whilst perhaps saying the words "this is all your fault you domino." I don't know what the "domino" part was about but it was always in my head when I imagined telling me mother off. But I then found out that Britain had been invaded by pig monsters and it would be unwsie to return. Instead I joined the french fire fighting servie and began fighting fires in France. I celebrated my fifteenth birthday in a blazing building while ten pensioners melted in the next room. My cake was burned and I threw it out the window but it hit a policeman's helmet and I had to hide. While hiding my job was given to a cat and I was kicked out of my home (I had been sleeping on the fire stations roof.)
I moved in with a nice family of racists after assuring them that I "wasn't black". Strangely enough the family themselves appeared to be black but they claimed that was all just a "misunderstanding" then never mentioned race again. Instead they spent most of their time talking about economics and swallowing baps. It made me think of home and how my mother was probably being raped by pig monsters as I lay by the fire in this french mansion sipping gin and listening to a new band called THE BEATLES on their french record playing device. It made me happy.
Unfortunately the family were slaughtered by a robot cobbler three hours later and I had to become a male prostitute.
"You were a fucking disappointment you dog," she said, to the dog, then turn to me. "You were a fucking disappointment you non-packet of prawn cocktail flavoured crisps," she said, before swallowing a bap whole.
"I'm sorry," said. "I'll put some shelves up." She was always making me put shelves up. We didn't have anything to put on them except more shelves. Well, planks of wood which would become shelves once they were put up.
"Your father was a computer!" she shouted in an unexpected Star Trek reference (unexpected because this was 1958.)
On putting up my twenty ninth shelf of the week I wondered if there was anything more to life. I asked the sailor who happened to be passing by the window this very question. He just kind of shrugged then pretend he hadn't heard me at all and shuffled away. I asked the question again to the giant mechanical monkey that next passed. It said "FRANCE."
The next day I sent off to France with a pocketful of dreams and a bag full of shelves. I used the shelves to fashion a crude rowing boat and rowed my way over the channel. When I arrived I found that I wasn't in France at all but rather the lost City of Atlantis.
"This is odd," I said to a robot butler.
"DO YOU WANT A DRINK?" it asked, as it was the only thing it was programmed to say.
"I'll have a moop cola," I said, testing the robot.
"NO SUCH BRAND, ERROR, ERROR," it said and exploded. I was exiled from Atlantis eight seconds later.
On arriving in France I got a job as the world's youngest Eiffel Tower polisher. I found the job difficult as they gave me no polish and I had to use my tongue, urine and some snotty rags a peasant had thrown at me when I had asked for directions. I still managed to win the "WORLD'S BEST EIFFEL TOWER POLISHER" award eight hours later and was rewarded with my own flat above a shop that sold needles and a job running the shop as the owner had just commited suicide by swallowing five baps and an ovary.
My first customer was none other than fictional character and detective Sherlock Holmes who asked for "ten magnifying glasses, a Sherlock Holmes hat, some shoes for a duck and heroin." I was unable to serve him and he kicked me in the gut and left mumbling something about "metal caves."
Nine days later I managed to stand and found that all the needles had been stolen and my shop burned to the ground. Upset, I decided to return to Britain and point at my mother whilst perhaps saying the words "this is all your fault you domino." I don't know what the "domino" part was about but it was always in my head when I imagined telling me mother off. But I then found out that Britain had been invaded by pig monsters and it would be unwsie to return. Instead I joined the french fire fighting servie and began fighting fires in France. I celebrated my fifteenth birthday in a blazing building while ten pensioners melted in the next room. My cake was burned and I threw it out the window but it hit a policeman's helmet and I had to hide. While hiding my job was given to a cat and I was kicked out of my home (I had been sleeping on the fire stations roof.)
I moved in with a nice family of racists after assuring them that I "wasn't black". Strangely enough the family themselves appeared to be black but they claimed that was all just a "misunderstanding" then never mentioned race again. Instead they spent most of their time talking about economics and swallowing baps. It made me think of home and how my mother was probably being raped by pig monsters as I lay by the fire in this french mansion sipping gin and listening to a new band called THE BEATLES on their french record playing device. It made me happy.
Unfortunately the family were slaughtered by a robot cobbler three hours later and I had to become a male prostitute.