There's a little boy I know who goes to a psychiatrist. He is currently being prescribed medication for attention deficit hyperactivity disorder.
When he is with me, he has no problem focusing, maintaining control, understanding and respecting limits. He does not show any symptoms of ADHD. He, also, has not been compliant with taking his medication. He states that it makes him feel "not good sometimes".
His parents try to force him to take his medication. They also tie his wrists and ankles with duct tape to prevent him from getting away from them. They are obese and are both retired and they cannot keep up with their ten-year-old son due to their age and poor overall health. They try to trick him into coming into the room by telling him that he has received a phone call from somebody important to him, and when he presents himself, they corner him physically to the point where he feels threatened. I have never heard his mother say anything positive about her son. Anything positive his father has said about him is in the form of a backhanded compliment, like, "a boy as bright as he is shouldn't be getting the horrible grades that he's getting, but that's because he's not applying himself."
The little boy is my brother. His mother and father are my step-mother and biological father. They are not good people. They are even worse parents. And somebody, somewhere, agreed to let these elderly, obese people adopt two children, both of whom are under the age of 11.
I spoke with my brother's psychiatrist a while ago, and told her that my brother lives in a situation where he never does anything right according to the people around him, and this is the reason why he behaves the way he does. If there's no way that he can do anything right, I told her, why should he try? If the result is the same no matter what he does, why should he put forward any effort for anything? I told her that my brother and sister live in a home where there are colonies of fruit flies living in their breezeway and they have a mouse problem. The children sleep on beds that are on the floor, where the mice can more effectively get on them. I told her about my brother being bound with duct tape at his wrists and ankles. She mentioned that she would find out about how to report them to child welfare services and then she would call me back.
I haven't heard from her. I spoke with her prior to Christmas. We're now coming up on summer.
I think about calling child welfare myself. It wouldn't be tough. My brother has repeatedly gotten on the roof of his house, and his mother has told him to stop going on the roof or somebody might call child welfare on them. She's already thought about it being a possibility.
While my brother can't do anything right, my sister can't do anything wrong. And she's getting just as fucked up as he is. Just today I received a voice mail from her telling me that I hadn't called in a long time and she was mad at me for not calling. And I want to tell my almost-9-year-old sister that she should have picked up the phone sooner and called me before she got to the point where she was mad. I want to tell her that she should have done something to help herself rather than do nothing and make herself mad. But I don't give a shit. She believes she can do no wrong, so it doesn't matter what I say to her, she hasn't done anything wrong. And maybe I need to tell her that she is impossible to speak with because she doesn't allow for anyone else other than herself. And it's not good for anyone to have to deal with that kind of attitude.
I hate my step-mother. She is one of the worst people I have ever known.
My father is a complete and total waste of space and should have been killed by a pack of wild boars.
My sister is... unfortunate.
And my brother is a casualty of people being absolutely criminal in their treatment of other people.
Monday, April 25, 2011
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
Last Night's Disturbing Dream
I'm shooting a movie, and the character I'm supposed to play is single, so I've taken off my wedding ring. The director comes over and starts directing me in the scene that we're shooting, and then he looks at my ring finger. He notices that it's a little discolored from where my wedding ring has been and a little dented. He fires me on the spot, saying that my finger is all wrong and I cannot play the role.
Cut to me putting on my shoes. Our 14-year-old is there with me. We're about to go climbing a hill or a mountain or something. I take my cold bottle of water and pour some over my feet, then take a swig from the bottle. I rinse off the dirt and sand from my feet with the water while my boy looks on with a supremely critical face, as it he's saying, "How in the world can you do that disgusting thing that you're doing?!" I look at him, smile, and do the same thing with the other foot: poor water on the bottom of my foot, then swig, then wipe the muck off my foot and put on my sock. He then says, "Why are you doing that, man?" And I tell him that I don't like the feeling of sand in my socks. "Disgusting," he says.
Disturbing dream ends.
People don't want to change. People can't change, for the most part. They stay the same. And there's nothing to be done about that. Fuck it. We're all doomed.
Cut to me putting on my shoes. Our 14-year-old is there with me. We're about to go climbing a hill or a mountain or something. I take my cold bottle of water and pour some over my feet, then take a swig from the bottle. I rinse off the dirt and sand from my feet with the water while my boy looks on with a supremely critical face, as it he's saying, "How in the world can you do that disgusting thing that you're doing?!" I look at him, smile, and do the same thing with the other foot: poor water on the bottom of my foot, then swig, then wipe the muck off my foot and put on my sock. He then says, "Why are you doing that, man?" And I tell him that I don't like the feeling of sand in my socks. "Disgusting," he says.
Disturbing dream ends.
People don't want to change. People can't change, for the most part. They stay the same. And there's nothing to be done about that. Fuck it. We're all doomed.
Monday, April 18, 2011
Walk Through Walls
Taking down my image in the mirror
The one that I can see
The one the demons make me out to be
Breaking down the pathways
The ones that I run to flee
Made by the monsters who make me
I haven't believed you all my life
And you're the only voice I hear
I think there's something decent left
But you won't let me look there
Try to trust the step
The one you said I failed
When I hadn't even leapt
Grabbing my own face
Shaking myself up
Raking them all off
And if you judge me with a look, will my world shatter like it did before?
Can I find the will to walk through walls that others bricked when I was born?
And if you judge me with a look, can I keep it together for one more day?
Can I find the will to walk through walls that are only there because you say?
I gotta walk through walls
The one that I can see
The one the demons make me out to be
Breaking down the pathways
The ones that I run to flee
Made by the monsters who make me
I haven't believed you all my life
And you're the only voice I hear
I think there's something decent left
But you won't let me look there
Try to trust the step
The one you said I failed
When I hadn't even leapt
Grabbing my own face
Shaking myself up
Raking them all off
And if you judge me with a look, will my world shatter like it did before?
Can I find the will to walk through walls that others bricked when I was born?
And if you judge me with a look, can I keep it together for one more day?
Can I find the will to walk through walls that are only there because you say?
I gotta walk through walls
Thursday, April 7, 2011
My Message To All Washington Politicians
You were elected by the American People to effectively run the government. None of you were elected to break the government.
Your inability to come to a budget agreement jeopardizes the continuance of the federal government. If the government closes, it's possible that many Americans will lose their jobs in lay offs or forced furloughs.
I live in a single-income family, where that single income supports me, my wife, and our two boys. If the government closes and I'm in a forced furlough situation, these four people will struggle to eat. We will struggle to keep our house. We will struggle to survive. This is not why you were elected.
Let's be clear: your inability to come to an agreement with each other is breaking our country. And although I may lose my job, my house, my food, my family, all that I have, I will not lose my voice to make sure that you are not allowed to break the government for another term come re-election time. You will lose.
And do not point fingers at other people. When you point fingers, you tell me and the rest of America that you have no control. And why should we keep somebody in office who has no control? You have the control because we gave it to you.
Come to an agreement on the budget. Now. Fix the government. Now. Make peace with the fact that it will not be a perfect budget for anyone, but it will be a budget that keeps our country moving and keeps our work force working. Quit blaming others for this situation and focus on fixing it. It doesn't matter who is to blame, because the reality is YOU ALL ARE TO BLAME. YOU ALL ARE THE BAD GUYS. And until you make sure that we have budget to keep my family in our home, you will continue to be the bad guy.
Don't be a bad guy. Be a good guy. Come to an agreement on the budget. Now. This is the will of the American People.
Your inability to come to a budget agreement jeopardizes the continuance of the federal government. If the government closes, it's possible that many Americans will lose their jobs in lay offs or forced furloughs.
I live in a single-income family, where that single income supports me, my wife, and our two boys. If the government closes and I'm in a forced furlough situation, these four people will struggle to eat. We will struggle to keep our house. We will struggle to survive. This is not why you were elected.
Let's be clear: your inability to come to an agreement with each other is breaking our country. And although I may lose my job, my house, my food, my family, all that I have, I will not lose my voice to make sure that you are not allowed to break the government for another term come re-election time. You will lose.
And do not point fingers at other people. When you point fingers, you tell me and the rest of America that you have no control. And why should we keep somebody in office who has no control? You have the control because we gave it to you.
Come to an agreement on the budget. Now. Fix the government. Now. Make peace with the fact that it will not be a perfect budget for anyone, but it will be a budget that keeps our country moving and keeps our work force working. Quit blaming others for this situation and focus on fixing it. It doesn't matter who is to blame, because the reality is YOU ALL ARE TO BLAME. YOU ALL ARE THE BAD GUYS. And until you make sure that we have budget to keep my family in our home, you will continue to be the bad guy.
Don't be a bad guy. Be a good guy. Come to an agreement on the budget. Now. This is the will of the American People.
What I Should Have Said...
My wife's birthday is coming up, so I pulled our boys into the rumpus room to have a talk about how they wanted to celebrate her this year.
"This year, money's a little tight, so mom and I talked about celebrating each other with a dinner that we all make together," I explained. The 14-year-old broke in.
"Why's money tight?"
"Well, because of court costs, and lawyers, and... court costs. So we don't have as much as we have in the past."
"So it's because of dad," says the 10-year-old.
"Well, court is expensive, and we've bought you both a lawyer and we paid for a lawyer for us, and it's expensive, so we're going to celebrate mom with a dinner this year."
What I Should Have Said...
"So it's because of dad," says the 10-year-old.
"Dad isn't spending our money. Dad doesn't have control over us here. We chose to listen to you and to fight for what we believe in. WE chose to spend our money. Nobody else can make me choose to spend money, least of all your father. So no, it's not dad's fault. He has no control over my money."
What I Would Like To Have Said...
"So it's because of dad," says the 10-year-old.
"Your father is a buttfucking cunt with a dick the size of a garden pea. He shits out his mouth. He's the reason people invented abortion."
"This year, money's a little tight, so mom and I talked about celebrating each other with a dinner that we all make together," I explained. The 14-year-old broke in.
"Why's money tight?"
"Well, because of court costs, and lawyers, and... court costs. So we don't have as much as we have in the past."
"So it's because of dad," says the 10-year-old.
"Well, court is expensive, and we've bought you both a lawyer and we paid for a lawyer for us, and it's expensive, so we're going to celebrate mom with a dinner this year."
What I Should Have Said...
"So it's because of dad," says the 10-year-old.
"Dad isn't spending our money. Dad doesn't have control over us here. We chose to listen to you and to fight for what we believe in. WE chose to spend our money. Nobody else can make me choose to spend money, least of all your father. So no, it's not dad's fault. He has no control over my money."
What I Would Like To Have Said...
"So it's because of dad," says the 10-year-old.
"Your father is a buttfucking cunt with a dick the size of a garden pea. He shits out his mouth. He's the reason people invented abortion."
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
weights
I work at a stupid job.
It's about to end indefinitely unless our law makers in Washington can agree on a federal budget before Friday. If they can't, I might be out of work indefinitely.
I support 4 people on a single income.
I'm not acting at all.
I'm not performing at all.
I can't get people to talk to me about a documentary that I'm not all that thrilled about anymore because of other stressors in my life currently.
An old friend of mine just won an independent music award for best record of the year.
I can't seem to string two pleasing notes together anymore.
I'm spending money so that a counselor can talk with my wife and tell her that her ex-husband doesn't want to talk with her... which we both already know. I'm spending this money to help our lawyer, which costs more money, fight the allegations against us made by our boys' attorney, which we're also paying for.
My boys treat my wife disrespectfully.
My wife and I don't have enough time to spend with each other, and when we do get a moment together, we spend it trying to get the other one to relax and calm down from all our stress.
My wife can't find a job (again).
I can't find a second job... although soon, it might be my first job.
Yes, I'm projecting into a future that I cannot control.
My mother would tell me that I'm borrowing problems and I should stop.
OK. I've stopped.
Now, I have to plan for my future.
The immediate future demands that I look for another job.
The immediate future demands that I bring in more income.
The immediate future demands that I hold off on playing guitar, or piano, or filming.
I'm trying to stay afloat.
It's really, really hard right now.
It's about to end indefinitely unless our law makers in Washington can agree on a federal budget before Friday. If they can't, I might be out of work indefinitely.
I support 4 people on a single income.
I'm not acting at all.
I'm not performing at all.
I can't get people to talk to me about a documentary that I'm not all that thrilled about anymore because of other stressors in my life currently.
An old friend of mine just won an independent music award for best record of the year.
I can't seem to string two pleasing notes together anymore.
I'm spending money so that a counselor can talk with my wife and tell her that her ex-husband doesn't want to talk with her... which we both already know. I'm spending this money to help our lawyer, which costs more money, fight the allegations against us made by our boys' attorney, which we're also paying for.
My boys treat my wife disrespectfully.
My wife and I don't have enough time to spend with each other, and when we do get a moment together, we spend it trying to get the other one to relax and calm down from all our stress.
My wife can't find a job (again).
I can't find a second job... although soon, it might be my first job.
Yes, I'm projecting into a future that I cannot control.
My mother would tell me that I'm borrowing problems and I should stop.
OK. I've stopped.
Now, I have to plan for my future.
The immediate future demands that I look for another job.
The immediate future demands that I bring in more income.
The immediate future demands that I hold off on playing guitar, or piano, or filming.
I'm trying to stay afloat.
It's really, really hard right now.
Stay Afloat
Yesterday I was doing ok. My wife was having a hard day for many different reasons. The boys were not helping her. Our 14-year-old was being a downright asshole to her. But I was able to hold myself up above the emotional waves and I was able to take care of myself and, ultimately, help my wife feel better.
I wish it could always be like that.
Today, she was supposed to go see a therapist to see if she could learn to communicate better with her ex. This is a therapist that our guardian ad litem recommended, so I'm already suspicious of the talents of aforementioned therapist. I also am imagining my wife sitting in a room alone with her Monster Ex as he lies to the therapist about who-knows-what, and dominating the conversation and preventing her from presenting her side of the story and the end of the therapy session would be just like it has been in the past: she's hurt and in tears and Monster feels like he's won another round, making him even more likely to behave like this, or worse, in the future. And I never know what to say when my wife is like that. There's really nothing I can say. I can't make it better. All I can do is hold her and pet her and tell her that I love her, which doesn't make her feel any better. It doesn't help. I don't help.
I've been preoccupied with these thoughts today. Even after receiving the text from my wife that the Monster Ex wasn't at the appointment today, I was unable to shake those horrible feelings. I feel unable to concentrate on my work.
I'm also a government employee who is looking to my government to make a decision as to the federal budget before the end of the week or else the government will shut down and I will be forced out of work without pay for as long as the government is closed.
I am trying every day to stay above water, and some days it almost seems impossible.
I wish it could always be like that.
Today, she was supposed to go see a therapist to see if she could learn to communicate better with her ex. This is a therapist that our guardian ad litem recommended, so I'm already suspicious of the talents of aforementioned therapist. I also am imagining my wife sitting in a room alone with her Monster Ex as he lies to the therapist about who-knows-what, and dominating the conversation and preventing her from presenting her side of the story and the end of the therapy session would be just like it has been in the past: she's hurt and in tears and Monster feels like he's won another round, making him even more likely to behave like this, or worse, in the future. And I never know what to say when my wife is like that. There's really nothing I can say. I can't make it better. All I can do is hold her and pet her and tell her that I love her, which doesn't make her feel any better. It doesn't help. I don't help.
I've been preoccupied with these thoughts today. Even after receiving the text from my wife that the Monster Ex wasn't at the appointment today, I was unable to shake those horrible feelings. I feel unable to concentrate on my work.
I'm also a government employee who is looking to my government to make a decision as to the federal budget before the end of the week or else the government will shut down and I will be forced out of work without pay for as long as the government is closed.
I am trying every day to stay above water, and some days it almost seems impossible.
Daymare
He's gonna lie about her.
He's gonna lie about me.
He's gonna lie about the children.
He's gonna lie about the therapist.
He's gonna prevent discussion about anything that she wants to talk about.
He will fill the air with ridiculous accusations.
The therapist will lose sight of any rational thought and follow him down the rabbit hole.
She's alone.
The therapist will not look out for her best interest.
The therapist will not help.
This is pointless and futile and she's in danger.
He is not stable and should not be allowed to be alone with her.
He will hurt her.
Again.
And she will be alone.
Again.
He's gonna lie about me.
He's gonna lie about the children.
He's gonna lie about the therapist.
He's gonna prevent discussion about anything that she wants to talk about.
He will fill the air with ridiculous accusations.
The therapist will lose sight of any rational thought and follow him down the rabbit hole.
She's alone.
The therapist will not look out for her best interest.
The therapist will not help.
This is pointless and futile and she's in danger.
He is not stable and should not be allowed to be alone with her.
He will hurt her.
Again.
And she will be alone.
Again.
The Way I See It
Having a hard time seeing it differently than this.
Man states he will not sleep with woman.
Man sleeps with woman.
Man and woman get married.
Man doesn't talk with woman.
Man doesn't talk with his child.
Woman suggests counselling.
Man doesn't talk in counselling.
Man and woman get divorced with a joint custody agreement, forcing man to talk.
Man changes conditions of their agreement without talking with woman.
Children try to talk with man.
Man doesn't talk with children.
Woman takes man to court and wins.
But man doesn't talk.
Woman tries to take man to court a second time.
Man doesn't talk.
Man tells lies.
Lies are believed and supported.
Recommendation is that the two of them get counselling so they can talk to each other better.
The man has an abusive past and continues to mentally and emotionally abuse his children and woman.
And the court is suggesting that woman go back to this abusive situation and try again to talk with man.
Why should man change when he hasn't talked all along and gotten what he wanted? Why should man change when he's being supported by the attorneys he's lied to and are stating he's done nothing wrong?
Why should we think anything will change if woman tries to talk with this man?
Why should I believe in our legal system?
Why should I believe in our country?
Why should I keep silent?
Man states he will not sleep with woman.
Man sleeps with woman.
Man and woman get married.
Man doesn't talk with woman.
Man doesn't talk with his child.
Woman suggests counselling.
Man doesn't talk in counselling.
Man and woman get divorced with a joint custody agreement, forcing man to talk.
Man changes conditions of their agreement without talking with woman.
Children try to talk with man.
Man doesn't talk with children.
Woman takes man to court and wins.
But man doesn't talk.
Woman tries to take man to court a second time.
Man doesn't talk.
Man tells lies.
Lies are believed and supported.
Recommendation is that the two of them get counselling so they can talk to each other better.
The man has an abusive past and continues to mentally and emotionally abuse his children and woman.
And the court is suggesting that woman go back to this abusive situation and try again to talk with man.
Why should man change when he hasn't talked all along and gotten what he wanted? Why should man change when he's being supported by the attorneys he's lied to and are stating he's done nothing wrong?
Why should we think anything will change if woman tries to talk with this man?
Why should I believe in our legal system?
Why should I believe in our country?
Why should I keep silent?
Monday, April 4, 2011
I Call Bullshit On The Home/Self-Defense Argument
You don't want to keep a gun on hand for home defense or self defense. You wanna keep a gun around because you know that it would be fun to shoot somebody. Admit it: there have been times in your life when an idiot was up in your face and you though, "I sure would like to shoot this fucker right now." I know I've felt that way, and EVERYBODY I have spoken with can identify with that sentiment. So you went out and bought a gun for that purpose. You don't want to hunt anything other than idiots who would be better off with a bullet in their head. That's why you have a gun. No other reason.
But you hide behind these bullshit excuses. "I need a gun for home defense!" "What if somebody breaks into my house? I'm going to need a gun to protect myself." Bullshit! From the perspective of a burglar, would it be easier to burglarize a home with or without somebody in it? Right, they don't want you there any more than you want them there. And if you're really in such a horrible neighborhood that you need a gun to protect yourself, you need to move out of the Wild West and into America because there isn't a place in this country that you need a gun to protect yourself. I know, I lived in Detroit for over 10 years and I'm still alive. And I walked alone in the Cass Corridor at night! Not one person attacked me! Not one person approached me! Nothing! So your argument about needing it for people who break into your house is complete and total bullshit.
What about self defense? Come on, that argument is even lamer. Imagine, if you will, somebody coming up to you and punching you right now. That's how much notice you get if somebody actually wants to attack you. You don't have your gun pulled and you're not ready. Now, after your assailant has punched you, do you think they're going to wait around while you dig around for your gun? No! They're gonna keep punching you. And you deserve it, because you're an asshole for lying about why you want a gun. Have you seen the pictures of the soldiers fighting in wars? They have their weapons pulled and are ready to fire at a moments notice. This is what it looks like to be prepared for an attacker. You are not prepared. Even if you wanna keep your gun in a holster so that everyone can see you're armed, like it's legal to do in Oklahoma, you're not ready for somebody to attack you. Your gun is holstered. You're an asshole and a liar.
You want a gun because you wanna shoot people. You want a gun because you want to hurt people. You want a gun so you can kill people. "But they deserve it," you whine with your whiny, pussy mouth. Who gave you the fucking right to judge who deserves getting shot or not? You know what, YOU deserve to be shot, you ignorant, lying prick! You deserve to get shot by somebody who has judged you to be worthy of being shot and killed. And the reason why you've been judged thusly is simple: you're a liar and you're full of stinky, stinky bullshit!
But you hide behind these bullshit excuses. "I need a gun for home defense!" "What if somebody breaks into my house? I'm going to need a gun to protect myself." Bullshit! From the perspective of a burglar, would it be easier to burglarize a home with or without somebody in it? Right, they don't want you there any more than you want them there. And if you're really in such a horrible neighborhood that you need a gun to protect yourself, you need to move out of the Wild West and into America because there isn't a place in this country that you need a gun to protect yourself. I know, I lived in Detroit for over 10 years and I'm still alive. And I walked alone in the Cass Corridor at night! Not one person attacked me! Not one person approached me! Nothing! So your argument about needing it for people who break into your house is complete and total bullshit.
What about self defense? Come on, that argument is even lamer. Imagine, if you will, somebody coming up to you and punching you right now. That's how much notice you get if somebody actually wants to attack you. You don't have your gun pulled and you're not ready. Now, after your assailant has punched you, do you think they're going to wait around while you dig around for your gun? No! They're gonna keep punching you. And you deserve it, because you're an asshole for lying about why you want a gun. Have you seen the pictures of the soldiers fighting in wars? They have their weapons pulled and are ready to fire at a moments notice. This is what it looks like to be prepared for an attacker. You are not prepared. Even if you wanna keep your gun in a holster so that everyone can see you're armed, like it's legal to do in Oklahoma, you're not ready for somebody to attack you. Your gun is holstered. You're an asshole and a liar.
You want a gun because you wanna shoot people. You want a gun because you want to hurt people. You want a gun so you can kill people. "But they deserve it," you whine with your whiny, pussy mouth. Who gave you the fucking right to judge who deserves getting shot or not? You know what, YOU deserve to be shot, you ignorant, lying prick! You deserve to get shot by somebody who has judged you to be worthy of being shot and killed. And the reason why you've been judged thusly is simple: you're a liar and you're full of stinky, stinky bullshit!
Friday, April 1, 2011
Character: Intense Indy Musician
Based on Tori Amos' "This Old Man" song:
An indie piano player with long bangs who takes children's nursery rhymes and turns them into ultra serious musical tunes with themes of abuse and neglect.
The way she sings "This Old Man" makes me think the old man abused her and when he "gave the dog a bone" it was sexual.
Other nursery rhymes: old mother Hubbard
Little Miss Muffet
Little Jack Horner
The Three Little Pigs ("I'll blow your cock in")
War and Peace
An indie piano player with long bangs who takes children's nursery rhymes and turns them into ultra serious musical tunes with themes of abuse and neglect.
The way she sings "This Old Man" makes me think the old man abused her and when he "gave the dog a bone" it was sexual.
Other nursery rhymes: old mother Hubbard
Little Miss Muffet
Little Jack Horner
The Three Little Pigs ("I'll blow your cock in")
War and Peace
Ass Kick
Scott and Sploogeman are walking along the street after work. It's dusk. Sploogeman is wearing a stick-on name tag: "Hi! My name is Sploogeman". Sploogeman is confiding in Scott about his love life.
"We went out a couple of times, so that means she must be interested in me, right?"
"No," laughs Scott. "It probably means she wants a free dinner. She didn't kiss you, did she?"
"No, but she did pat my hand."
"Yeah, Sploogeman. Patting your hand doesn't mean that she wants you."
"I'm so lonely."
"Of course you are, Sploogeman. You're Sploogeman." Scott laughs half-heartedly at his stupid joke. He turns to walk down a dark alley, and Sploogeman notices and stops.
"Hey, you're not going to walk down that dark alley, are ya, Scott?"
"Yes I am, Sploogeman," Scott scoffs, lightly. "You don't have to follow me if your vagina hurts."
"No, my vagina feels fine."
"Whatever," Scott said, dismissively. Sploogeman stands in fear, watching Scott walk into the dark alley. Finally, he manages to squeeze out a yelp of fear from between terrified lips.
"Did I ever tell you you're my hero?!"
Scott walks carelessly, without a smile or spring in his step, down the dark alley. A man wearing a ski mask comes out to block Scott's path. Scott stops. Ski Mask says nothing. Scott scoffs at Ski Mask.
"What's up, douche?"
Ski Mask is silent. Scott points at Ski Mask, questioningly.
"Pentecostal?"
Ski Mask is silent.
"Peace 'em out, dick-sickle."
Ski Mask whips out a baseball bat and plants it in Scott's sternum, stopping him and knocking the wind out of him slightly.
"Dickman!"
"Owwww."
"Scott Dickman!"
"Owwww."
"Scotticule Pigglestink Dickman!"
Scott looks up at Ski Mask, surprised to hear his full name.
"Scotticule Pigglestink Dickman, you know what you've done!"
Scott continues to look, amazed, at Ski Mask as we flashback to events that Scott has done in the past:
At his office, Scott stands over a co-worker, pointing and laughing an obnoxious laugh.
At his office, Scott pushes a woman out of the way so that he can get to the water fountain before her.
At his office, Scott stands over a second co-worker, pointing and laughing an obnoxious laugh.
At his office, Scott sits at his desk and lets the phone ring continuously without picking it up.
At his office, Scott parks his car in two different handicapped spaces and walks away as a car with a handicapped sticker in it's windshield stops from parking in one of the spaces.
At his office, Scott takes a dump on somebody else's desk.
At his office, Scott jukes somebody as they walk down the hallway past him. The co-worker flinches violently, throwing papers in the air, scattering them everywhere. Scott walks by, scoffing.
At his office, Scott rubs his hand in his pants, and then rubs the soiled hand on the water fountain button.
At his office, Scott's phone is ringing while he's playing Minesweeper on his computer.
At his office, Scott stands over a third co-worker, a fourth co-worker, a fifth co-worker, pointing and laughing an obnoxious laugh.
We return to Scott's face as he realizes what he's done. He starts to tremble.
"I didn't know they were handicapped spaces!"
"Scott Dickman..."
"I have asthma!"
"...you will now pay for your crimes!"
Scott's entire face screams, and we pull back to see that the baseball bat has been shoved almost completely up his ass. Scott's pants are around his ankles and he is bent over a trashcan. Ski Mask is bending down behind Scott. Ski Mask stands up with a clear Solo cup in his hand. It has a lot of red fluid in it. Ski Mask shoves it forward, into Scott's face.
"Now drink your ass blood!"
The title card appears: "Ass Kick".
The credits roll:
Scott Pigglestink Dickman played by Your Boss
Sploogeman played by Your Boss' Retarded Sycophant
The People At Scott's Office played by The People At Your Office
Ski Mask played by You
Congratulations!
"We went out a couple of times, so that means she must be interested in me, right?"
"No," laughs Scott. "It probably means she wants a free dinner. She didn't kiss you, did she?"
"No, but she did pat my hand."
"Yeah, Sploogeman. Patting your hand doesn't mean that she wants you."
"I'm so lonely."
"Of course you are, Sploogeman. You're Sploogeman." Scott laughs half-heartedly at his stupid joke. He turns to walk down a dark alley, and Sploogeman notices and stops.
"Hey, you're not going to walk down that dark alley, are ya, Scott?"
"Yes I am, Sploogeman," Scott scoffs, lightly. "You don't have to follow me if your vagina hurts."
"No, my vagina feels fine."
"Whatever," Scott said, dismissively. Sploogeman stands in fear, watching Scott walk into the dark alley. Finally, he manages to squeeze out a yelp of fear from between terrified lips.
"Did I ever tell you you're my hero?!"
Scott walks carelessly, without a smile or spring in his step, down the dark alley. A man wearing a ski mask comes out to block Scott's path. Scott stops. Ski Mask says nothing. Scott scoffs at Ski Mask.
"What's up, douche?"
Ski Mask is silent. Scott points at Ski Mask, questioningly.
"Pentecostal?"
Ski Mask is silent.
"Peace 'em out, dick-sickle."
Ski Mask whips out a baseball bat and plants it in Scott's sternum, stopping him and knocking the wind out of him slightly.
"Dickman!"
"Owwww."
"Scott Dickman!"
"Owwww."
"Scotticule Pigglestink Dickman!"
Scott looks up at Ski Mask, surprised to hear his full name.
"Scotticule Pigglestink Dickman, you know what you've done!"
Scott continues to look, amazed, at Ski Mask as we flashback to events that Scott has done in the past:
At his office, Scott stands over a co-worker, pointing and laughing an obnoxious laugh.
At his office, Scott pushes a woman out of the way so that he can get to the water fountain before her.
At his office, Scott stands over a second co-worker, pointing and laughing an obnoxious laugh.
At his office, Scott sits at his desk and lets the phone ring continuously without picking it up.
At his office, Scott parks his car in two different handicapped spaces and walks away as a car with a handicapped sticker in it's windshield stops from parking in one of the spaces.
At his office, Scott takes a dump on somebody else's desk.
At his office, Scott jukes somebody as they walk down the hallway past him. The co-worker flinches violently, throwing papers in the air, scattering them everywhere. Scott walks by, scoffing.
At his office, Scott rubs his hand in his pants, and then rubs the soiled hand on the water fountain button.
At his office, Scott's phone is ringing while he's playing Minesweeper on his computer.
At his office, Scott stands over a third co-worker, a fourth co-worker, a fifth co-worker, pointing and laughing an obnoxious laugh.
We return to Scott's face as he realizes what he's done. He starts to tremble.
"I didn't know they were handicapped spaces!"
"Scott Dickman..."
"I have asthma!"
"...you will now pay for your crimes!"
Scott's entire face screams, and we pull back to see that the baseball bat has been shoved almost completely up his ass. Scott's pants are around his ankles and he is bent over a trashcan. Ski Mask is bending down behind Scott. Ski Mask stands up with a clear Solo cup in his hand. It has a lot of red fluid in it. Ski Mask shoves it forward, into Scott's face.
"Now drink your ass blood!"
The title card appears: "Ass Kick".
The credits roll:
Scott Pigglestink Dickman played by Your Boss
Sploogeman played by Your Boss' Retarded Sycophant
The People At Scott's Office played by The People At Your Office
Ski Mask played by You
Congratulations!