Story: LATEST NOVELLA FOR UNDERPRIVELEGED YOUTHS

[[Originally written 2012]]


"Wilma, I told you not to leave carcasses on my Temprapedic mattress, especially not on Thursdays after 3:00!" Darg said, huffing a cigar of the fruity-kind.


"I told you not to scream at my ass when I bend over, but now that's all you do besides eat soup and watch David Cosby shows on the GoogleTV!" Wilma wretched.


"How dare you, bitch! How dare you, wench!" Darg snuffed sporkingly. "I flabbergasted all your windmills yesterday, so what have you got for me in return?"


Wilma reached into her pocket and pulled out her naked body. "I have for you sex, now!"

They had sex for four and a half hours. Wilma is hot, whatever you find attractive, that's what she looks like. However, Darg looks like Homer Simpson if he were a real person and liked to molest. The image in your mind will confuse and entice you, today now.


"MOOOOOOOOOOM!" Goby yelped from the door. "I'm home from Education! Make me dinner, Lunchables, please!" He was a precocious 14 year old, always spying on his neighbor when he was in the den. Besides, wouldn't you?


"I'm having sex with your father right now, Goby! Help yourself to whatever you find in back of the sofa!" Wilma screaaaaaaaaaamed. Then they stopped having sex and Darg cried because he saw something sad in his periphery that reminded him of the scene in E.T. when E.T. almost died.


Goby swallowed an ice cube and bit his tongue. "Damn satellites! Always raking my Ipod Nano into a wicker basket!" Then he died, softly and abruptly, on the kitchen bathtub. Never to be found again, for at least another fortnight.


When Dave Turner makes a promise, you better believe he'll follow through! But on one unfortunate day, his soul was swapped with a man who is exactly like him but NEVER keeps his promises. Tune in yesterday to "NEVER KEEP PROMISES MAN" on Fox CBS Sundays!


"What was that? I heard a rustling and a bustling," Adobe Flash said. "It must be...................absolutely nothing but the wind. Oh, my teenage hormones! Maybe if I do sins around this location I'm at right now, something eventful will happen!"


She skipped to one of the cabins and knocked on the door. 

"Cabin Man, oh Cabin Man! Will you teach me how to sin?!" Adobe Flash called.

Cabin Man, played by Marilyn Manson, opens the door. I'm switching to present tense now, be careful.

"What is it you want, my dear teenage girl in revealing outfit?" Cabin Man said.

"I really want my life to be just like a horror movie, but I'm so not a dumbass that I can't get anyone to stalk me!" Adobe Flash cried.


"Well if you want me to kill you, I will. It's about that time of the month, and I need to fill my Marilyn Manson reference with blank."

"I totally understand what you just said."

"Good."

They both turn to the camera and stare.


Cut to: CLOSE UP of Wayne Newton smiling for a whole five minutes, with "Don't Let The Sun Go Down On Me" playing 12 decibles louder than necessary.


INT. MYERS HOUSE

(Directed by Rob Zombie)

"Quit screaming! I'm trying to cook hummus!" says Michael Myers as he simultaneously cooks and stabs a man in the eyeballs.

Jamie Lee Curtis enters. 

"MICHAEL!" she says. Then stares for a very long time.

"What the feck do you want, sister?" Michael Myers says.

"I'm your sister, and fuck shit cunt piss asshole!" JLC screams.

Scout-Taylor Compton enters in a dirty sweater with unwashed hair.

"I'm your sister, Michael. Angel Myers!" she says.

She turns to the camera and makes that one face that girls make when they're all "I know, right?!"

Then she says, "I know, what? I'm his sister!"

Sheri Moon Zombie walks in completely naked smoking a cigarette.

"Hey guys, just passing by..."

Sheri EXITS stage left.


Two years later, when Kevin Smith ate America, James and the Giant Peach took aim at a flying saucer made by Fat Mike from NOFX and Amanda Bynes and Drake Bell drove into a thunderstorm because this one girl from a porno was waving a knife at R.L. Stein threatening to sautee him if he didn't write another "Living Dummy" book by sundown.


And now, for something completely different. An extended cutaway of stock footage from B-movies with Klaus Nomi singing in the background.

CUT TO: A woman in a unitard with Pat Benatar hair lit in high contrast in an empty room sitting on a chair. She pulls out an egg.

"This is both the beginning of life, and food. What you see as food, I see as a chicken that never was. That never could fly. That will never see a single show on basic cable. That will never delve into the fashion world."

A man in a turtleneck with a ponytail enters. 


"Quiet, wench. This of what you are of speak means nothing to anyone but you. And now, I hold up a candleabra!" he says.

"Damn, damn, damn, damn!" the director squacks. "You aren't supposed to say that, that's just direction!"

"Well, you have it written as if it's part of the dialogue," ponytail man defends himself.

"That's because I'm a 12-year-old boy! Not a screenwriter!" the director said. 

CLOSE UP: A blurred image of John Cleese that's tinted orange.


NARRATION: We are all born stars. Some of us rise to the top, while others never see their full potential. Buy name brands, listen to what's hip. Never stray away from what the TV tells you is right. And you too, will be the next Top Model."


The End. Dedicated to the memory of her majesty Selena Gomez, 4:11.