Poop

Poop lived in a small place.  There weren't many people where Poop lived.

She was kind, courteous, cute.  She was polite and smiled a lot.  She was friendly to everybody, and she tried not to bother anyone.  She was very considerate.

But some of the people in Poop's city-- if you could call a nest that small a "city"-- didn't like her.  She didn't actually know if the people didn't like her, but what she knew is that they didn't act like they liked her.  They would avoid her eye contact when they walked by her on the streets.  They never came to her home when she invited them for parties, and they never invited her anywhere.  Nobody called her.  Often she would catch people talking behind their hands and looking in her direction, which made her believe they were talking about her. 

She went to see a doctor, and he told her she was just making things up in her head.  She hadn't heard anyone say anything negative about her so she couldn't really know if people hated her.  It was probably her imagination.

Imagination or not, Poop didn't have anyone to confide in or talk with.  She was alone often, and made friends with as many trees as she could.

She tried to make friends with people, but no one would talk with her.  And after a while, it became pointless to ask "why?" because it simply wasn't going to be answered.

One day, Poop saw a book on the ground.  It was The Ugly Duckling by Hans Christian Andersen.  Knowing only that she loved books, she picked up the book and read.  The story began with a mother duck and her nest filled with eggs about to hatch.  When the eggs hatched, there was one particular bird who stood out as being ugly amongst her other ducklings.  This bird was teased, bullied and abused by his siblings and family.  He ran away from home to various other places, but he was only met with abuse and ridicule from those around him.  At one point, he sees a group of migrating swans flying, and he becomes excited to join them, as he thinks it would be fun to fly, but he is too young to fly and simply watches them fly away.  The more and more he's abused, the more he secludes himself and hides and runs away from everyone, until he finally can no longer take it.  He decides to throw himself at the mercy of the swans, because if he's going to die he figures he might as well die at the hands of the most beautiful creatures he'd ever seen.  So he went to the swans, but to his surprise they accepted him for who he was.  And when he saw his reflection in the water, he saw that he had grown into a swan.  He then spread his beautiful swan wings and took flight with the rest of the swans.

Poop finished the book and let her arm drop to her side.
She stared blankly ahead of her.
She was breathless.
Panting in rhythm with the book slapping her leg gently.
Slapant.
Slapant.
Slapant.

"What the fuck is wrong with you people??!!"  Poop screamed at the tiny, tiny city.  People poked their heads out of their windows to see what all the commotion was about.  "You're all a bunch of fucking douches!  You're all a bunch of fucks!!"
Poop pulled out a handgun from her waistband and let loose of a maelstrom of bullets.  People dropped dead.  Women's head's exploded into red mists of blood as they were separated by hot lead.  Men cried and crumpled to the ground.
"We're so sorry!" the men screamed, but it was too late.  Poop shot them in their knees, sending them into fits of agony.  She then fired shots so close to their ears that their cheeks and scalps were burned with hot gunpowder discharge, and then she pressed the scorching gun barrel into their exposed ears, branding them for the remainder of their short, pathetic, painful lives.  Poop laughed a releasing laugh as she killed the people of the town: the women who hadn't returned her calls or invited her to their parties.  The school teachers who couldn't seem to remember her name even though she had participated in their classes for years and years.  The store owners who always turned up their noses when she walked in.  They boys who teased her.  The girls who teased her.  Her parents who ignored her and told her she was fat.  Her school-yard peers who called her names and pushed her to the ground.  All the people who beat her and kicked her and pushed her and committed horrible, horrible things to her.  She released years and years of anger and repression as she bathed in the blood that she sent streaming into the sky.  Everyone was in her cross hairs.  And everyone, everyone, died that day with a mangled, tortured cry of agony as they realized the horrible error of their ways and understood how they had always been wrong and the pain they were feeling was justification.  It was the price they were paying for their years of cruelty, and they no longer had credit cards.

Poop returned from her wonderful daydream.
She looked around at her tiny, tiny town and the tiny, tiny people who lived there.
And she took one step forward.
Away from the tiny town.
And the tiny people.
And all their tiny ways.
And that one step lead to another step.
And another step forward.
Not just away, but toward something else.
She took one more step toward something else.
She didn't know what was out there.
And she didn't know how long it would take.
But it was going to start with this step.
And this step.
And she kept stepping toward forward.




So you see, Poop was a metaphor.  It was sorta like the story of the Ugly Duckling, but before the Ugly Duckling finds his group that he belongs to.  And the name, Poop, was picked because it sounds like an ugly name to us, right?  A person with the name Poop must be a pretty ugly person, huh?  Well, Hans Cristian Andersen actually named his famous swan Poop.  It's true.  They just didn't include that in the original manuscript.  Yeah, so now there's even more deepness to my story, right?  Yeah, I'm a Literary Genius.  And maybe, just maybe, we can look around and try to find those Poops that are around us, and maybe we could invite them to our parties and return their emails.  Cuz they're not actually poop.  They're named Poop, and they are beautiful swans.  And you're pretty shallow when you don't say hi to them.  And that's a way in which you can make our world a better place.  You are welcome.