Saturday, July 23, 2005

Further correspondence.

Vincent
A fire, Oh my God, a fire ravages the city.

Johnathon
And what harm, Vincent? It is due time that the scum of this plagued metropolis be purged from this great planets surface. This isn't Hollywood, the corrupt don't always loose.

Vincent
But what of the children, Jonathon? The innocents who don't yet know their parents evils, who havn't learned to hate yet. Do they deserve to burn? We are so close... I can smell it. We should save them. We can save them.

Johnathon
The children!? The children, Vincent? Who ever showed me any kindness or generosity as a child? No one, the vile children are as guitly as their scum bag parents. Absolute extermination is the only answer. I gleefully await the moment when the smell of charred flesh fills my nostrils.

Vincent
Oh no, I can't believe what I am hearing. A city burns just beyond the hill and you laugh with spite. Spite, Jonathon. I never... could never imagine you this way. What has overcome you? I can't just sit here and listen to the air crackle...

Johnathon
Life has overcome me. Have you not come to realise the depth of the corruption, disloyalty, prejudice and hatred that has gripped the denizens of this hell hole? If you are so philantrophic rush outside and be killed with the rest of the filth. Go, go Vince and make a difference.

Vincent
Yes, from your unceasless chattering, every morning, noon and night. How could I not know of the cities corruption? But, are the homeless, burning on the streets, more flammable because of their paper homes and alcohol soaked beards, are they corrupt? There are people to be saved, that could be saved still, Jonathon. But the night grows light with the flames... I may be too late.

Johnathon
If their beards are soaked with alcohol and their homes are made of paper they deserve to burn. What type of sub-human scum doesn't bathe or partake of brick construction?

Vincent
The innocent Jonathon, who cannot bend themselves to suit this new society, one built on the steam engine, as obnoxious as the politician. The prolitarians, who only have enough to keep death at bay and no more. Poorer than poor. The city rises high into the sky, perched atop the broken backs of the these hard working people. They don't deserve such a fate as to die dehumanized, while the rich flee in their steam powered trains and horse drawn carriages. As London burns, so does it's soul.

Johnathon
Communist. Go have sex with Robert Oppenheimer while Stalin watches and attempts to fondle his decomposed corpse.

Vincent
Oh, I think I cannot live anymore now that you have revealed yourself to be so evil and immoral. To kill myself will be relief from you and your kind. With this knife, I end it. And I die, knowing I was never loved.

Johnathon
Good riddance to you and the weak willed like you. You are an illness on the face of this planet.

Vincent
With my last breathe... I say.... Fuck you. Ugh.

Johnathons inner monologue
And now I know that once this man has passed away the future of the world is ensured. The diminutive multitudes are passing, ensuring we will conquer our foes of earth and time forever safe guarding the sanctity of our race and way of life.

9 comments:

  1. Ian
    You need to go hang out with Robert and the two of you need to whoop it up on the town.

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  2. Rob is too lazy, he coccoons himself within his domicile emerging only to financially feast on the deceased and answering the door to take receipt of his lastest pruchase from the internet. Me on the other hand, I take out the garbage.

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  3. 'Communist. Go have sex with Robert Oppenheimer while Stalin watches and attempts to fondle his decomposed corpse.'

    Says the guy who once had an orgy on the Kremlin steps. Oh, those were the days.

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  4. Yeah, I think we need to relive that excitment... fucking exams ruined everything.

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  5. Wait, who had an orgy on the steps of the Kremlin Oppenheimer or Stalin?

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  6. We did... remember.... all of us. In March... or was it April?

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  7. On Sabine's blog. Filthy thing, she is.

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  8. Yea... deep funny that day. And probably that whole month. Real life seemed to creep in after that, ruining the atmosphere.

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  9. Yeah the sex days are gone. No more pie, no more chocolate sauce, our juices dried up and we all all shrivled like PRUNES

    commie bastard exams

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