Chapter 3: Dumpster of Love
A certain mad engineer typed on his computer.
"Most people at FU did not have much personality, let alone sanity. Stereotypes of all sorts still lingered, as well as those who were stereotypes unto themselves. For instance, there was a pair of exchange students from somewhere in Asia (no one ever bothered asking where specifically). There was a drooling maniac named Yellow Peril who had long hair and ravaged white women, and he had a slutty sister named Yellow Fever who was the object of attraction of several ethnic fetishists on (and off) campus. Of course, the very fact they went to FU turned them from mere clichés to one dimensional racist caricatures incarnate. They were joined by stereotypes of other ethnic groups: Patty O'Connor the Drunken Irishman, Vlad the Evil Russian, Pierre the French Surrender Monkey, Da Gangsta the African-American stereotype, and El Grease-o the Hispanic one.
The fact so many stereotypes congregated was hardly new to New Jersey. As New Jersey did not have much culture, but in fact created a cultural vacuum that sucked down the culture of anyone inside it. Any traditions or even personal uniqueness were washed down the drain with an ingestion of industrial waste and cheap makeup."
Aaron stopped typing, and realized it was breaking the forth wall. Then, he remembered the story wasn't supposed to make sense, and continued. Forget the post-modernist angle, he thought. Time for something funny.
"A long time ago, in a dumpster far away…"
Perfect,Aaron thought. Aaron went to a literature site called "Fictionpressed." He could not believe how much crap was already up there, especially Star Wars rip-off sci-fi crap and Tolkien elf-shit in the fantasy section. Skimming through a story called Space Bores made him want to vomit and write a deliberately bad epic of his own. He would call it…Dumpster of Love.
"There once was a guy named Dumpster Freddy. Freddy lived in a dumpster in a back alley in a city. Freddy's clothing was all made of trash, and he had a long beard with fleas, ticks, and even a few dead rats in it, plus incomprehensible horrors beyond human comprehension. When he fought, Freddy used a trash can lid like a shield and a stale bread-stick as a club. Now, Freddy was friends with a mobster named…"
FUCK!Aaron thought as the writers' block hit. He needed a name that would be fitting for a moronic, homicidal gangster. Who don't I like?
Just then, Aaron remembered a moron from some fraternity: Ulrich Taylor. The real life Ulrich was a standard nihilist. He enjoyed dressing in black leather, listening to cheap Goth rock, talking about how corrupt Western civilization was, and how sex and drugs were meant to fill the void of all the nothingness inside created by consumerism (or some other such bull). He also had a similar sister in high school named Elizabeth.
With a Nordic sounding name and some (deliberate) incorrect pronunciation, Ulrich could be a very sinister villain indeed. Aaron continued the story.
"Now, Freddy was friends with a mobster named Ulrich. Ulrich would bring Freddy things. Fun things, like more trash and bodies. Getting a dead body was always fun for Freddy. Ulrich would knock on the dumpster, Freddy would pop up, pull in the body, close the lid, and the dumpster would start to shake. A few hours later, chewing would be heard. Then, Freddy would pop up, and normally burp out a toe, finger, or bits of genitals. Then, he would barf it up, and eat it again. This made Freddy warm and fuzzy inside. Freddy called his dumpster the Dumpster of Love."
Perfect, Aaron thought. He posted the story and waited to see what kind of people would be unfortunate enough to read it. After all, it was by plumbing the depths of creativity depravity that the sweetest suffering came from. He had just found a new way to defecate through a keyboard.
Across the world in (not so) Great Britain, a certain hapless Welsh writer turned on his computer. He was named Ian, and an online friend of Aaron and Joe. He saw Aaron had posted a new story, "Dumpster of Love." As most of Aaron's stories centered around ascetic transhuman weapons and history experts with omniscient AIs in their heads, it looked like something new. He clicked on it and read.
A few minutes later, a load of shit blasted from the monitor and hit Ian's face. Ian covered his eyes, though more to shield his delicate eyes from the story than from the wave of fecal matter blasting towards him. The shit hit Ian as he threw a fit, and the bad rhyming made him think he needed a first aid kit.
Still, that's must less shit than I've seen from certain politicians, he thought. (Just so happened, that political party had the initials "BNP" and had an agenda that matched the evil regime in V for Vendetta.)
Back at home, S and M were trying a new idea.
"Quick! We have to get General Hooker and Jacko out of here before mom gets home!" Maria protested.
"How? We've tried threats, bribes, and making them read L. Ron Hubbard and watch Teletubbies," Sam replied.
"Perhaps seduction?" Maria asked.
"What? We're eleven year olds! Even General Hooker doesn't have that kind of interest in us," Sam replied.
"Yes, but Jacko does. Since you're a boy under twelve, I want you to see if you can seduce him and lure him into a magical portal I'll summon up," Maria added.
"Magical portal? What the hell are you using for a magical portal?" Sam snapped. "It took us hours to decode the time-conjuring spell!"
"I'll just say the words backwards, and a plot hole will open," Maria replied. "Like if I say "HAIL SATAN!" backwards, it sounds like "NATASLIAH,'" doesn't it?"
"I suppose, but I don't want his artillery up my rear flank," Sam answered. "Perhaps there's something that might arouse both of them?"
"I have just the idea," Maria grinned sadistically. "Sam, I want you to get me several babies suffering from harlequin fetus syndrome, some coat-hangers, a hammer, and some nails."
Sam nodded as he prepared to summon them up.
Piter Zipella (or PZ) was enjoying the boat on the lake near campus. It had an outboard motor modified to run on pure humponium. It was designed by the Evil Engineering Society, and they said they needed a test dummy, so PZ volunteered.
Just then, his boat cut out. Corny music began to play, which sounded vaguely like the Jaws theme played backwards. Just then, a whale in a hunting cap popped up beside PZ's boat. "Hey! I think your boat looks nice!" Humpy the Sperm Whale commented.
Before PZ could act, Humpy was doing his business on the side of the boat. Playfully nudging it, at first. Then, the pace increased, as Humpy was in the throes of passion alongside the boat. And then, for no apparent reason, the boat exploded, and PZ was blasted into the air. A huge frown appeared on Humpy's face, and he went back down underwater. Never mind that he was in a landlocked, fresh-water lake.
When Sam brought in a box of harlequin fetuses and tools, Maria could hardly believe her luck. "Quick! Get me the nails!" she smirked.
"What is it you plan to do to them anyway?" Sam asked.
"Just watch," Maria replied. "Something that should gross them out so much, they'll beg to be sent back."
With that, Maria got each malformed infant, and nailed their arms and legs to the wall, in a fashion that resembled crucifixion. Jacko and Hooker both looked at the crucified, dying, and mewling infants, and got aroused.
"Hey, Jacko, you know what's more fun than nailing babies to a wall?" Hooker joked.
"Ripping them back off again!" Jacko smiled.
"Yes!" both exclaimed as they got boners. They then started ripping the babies off, and "having fun" with each one.
Meanwhile, S and M were watching from a corner of the room.
"So, sis, any more bright ideas?" Sam asked.
"Yep," she snickered. "We shall unleash…KMD."
"Sis, are you sure? I mean, nailing babies to a wall is one thing, but the KMD…" Sam made no sign to hide his displeasure.
"KMD is our only option," Maria said grimly. "Get the carrying case."
"Why do I have to do all the work?" Sam grumbled.
"You were born a few seconds after me. I'm the oldest, therefore most responsible," Maria replied.
"That I doubt," Sam commented. "But I'll get the KMD to shut you up."
Sam went up stairs, and returned with a case used to carry pets while traveling. Growling could be heard from within. Both S and M put on gasmasks, and unleashed the dreaded beast. Both S and M took cover as a cute little kitten with a spiked collar emerged. S and M started playing scary pipe-organ music from a nearby stereo for dramatic effect.
"Aw, look at the cute kitty!" Hooker said.
Just then, KMD farted, and both covered their noses. The two mutant Civil War officers ran back into the plot hole and jumped in. KMD meowed happily, and began to eat some of the now-mutilated corpses. Within a few minutes, KMD went back into her cage and fell asleep.
"There's KMD for you. Silent but deadly," Sam remarked.
"Hey! I just realized something. We're in gasmasks, and our initials are "S and M." Weird," Maria added.
"How about we put on some black leather?" Sam suggested.
"Sure! I'll get the whip!" Maria nodded.
"You mean that cheap jump-rope you put black tape around?" Sam cracked.
"Yup," Maria responded. "You know, you're being naughty!"
"Please! We're eleven years old!" Sam protested.
"Still, imagine the look on Mom's face when she sees us in leather and gasmasks!" Maria snickered. "After all, see all those limbs and remains on the floor? Let's make some baby leather!"
"Cool! I've always wanted a shirt made from stitched together faces of dead babies!" Sam added.
And so, S and M got to work making leather.
Joe, however, had some problems of his own. Aaron had posted a new story, which had made him want to blind himself. The fact Aaron had snickered as Joe had read it made his head really hurt.
Wanting to relax, he turned on the small TV set he had. He had turned to a strange children's show. The main character seemed to vaguely resemble an evil clone of Bert from Sesame Street, but without the unibrow. Instead, this puppet wore black leather with a flowing cape. He had a castle in the background, and he started speaking. "Hello, kids! Welcome to Sindhlot's Castle! I'm your host, Evil Emperor Sindhlot!"
Children cheering, or at least a really convincing track of them, was heard in the audience.
"Today, we're going to talk about Pet Monsters! Now, they're cute, cuddly, and eat heroes!" Sindhlot snickered. "Here's one of my pet monsters, Mr. Kraken the Sea Serpent! Watch him eat some heroes!"
The scene changed to a drawbridge with some generic heroes on it. There was a sword-swinging illiterate hick, magic-using girlfriend, brooding antihero, and simple minded moron with a heart of gold. They were about halfway across when the monster popped up.
Or, rather, the "monster." Instead of being anything truly scary, it was a giant sock puppet, with one button for an eye and one googly eye. It ate the moron with a single bite. The hick leapt at it, and was promptly bitten in half. The dumb blonde girlfriend prepared to throw a fireball, but was also swallowed whole. The brooding antihero started quoting lines from emo songs as he lunged at the monster's head. The killer puppet simply bit off his head.
"What the hell?!" Joe asked. "How did some people get eaten by a sock puppet of all things?"
The scene on TV shifted back to Sindhlot. "After Mr. Kraken shi…er…pooped (damn PG rating) those heroes out, anyone care to take guess what happened?"
"What, Emperor Sindhlot?" another convincing child-voice track played.
"I used them to fund my evil schemes, of course! Any of you go to school in New Jersey?" the Evil Emperor snickered. "I mixed in some toxic waste with those floaters, and then it was used by NJ schools as cafeteria food!"
Joe turned off the television, sighed at how bad children's television had become. As even Aaron would agree, the best news show of the day was not CNN, Faux News, nor BSNBC. The greatest news show was simply the Daily Show. Realizing he had done his work, he decided to take a walk outside.