Written by Alex99
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Sunday, 10 July 2011

Today I was sitting my computer when all of a sudden a fish came flying in through the window. I live on the 134th floor of a skyscraper and I went to my window to see where the fish had come from.

I then got a call asking if the fish was okay and I replied that I thought it was. The phone went dead and as I went to the balcony I felt a blinding flash and saw stars. The phone rang again, and the voice on the other line asked if it was okay to shoot me and I replied that it was alright so long as it did not hurt. I sat down on the couch and it blew up.

I get another call to ask if I could be blown up and I replied that I had already been blown up and shot that morning and was kind of busy and can you call me later?

I went to the kitchen and opened the fridge and there was a huge explosion which blew me back out of the kitchen into the dining room. I staggered onto a chair and was given a huge electric shock. The phone rang again and the voice asked if I enjoyed being electrocuted and shot and blown to kingdom come. I said that it was too late because these had already happened and can I call you back cos I am kinda busy right now.

The phone exploded in my hand and I heaved a huge sigh of relief. The debt collectors and Larry Chukweu-whatever, I can never spell that guy's name- and Nancy Paulson would never be able to contact me again. Unluckily for me, I have seven mobile phones and another one rang. I picked it up and the voice asked if I was enjoying my day thus far and I had to admit it was kinda different from the normal 24 hours and so I said that I was really enjoying myself and everything was helter skelter.

I was asked to go the balcony again, told to look down and just when I did so, I got shot in the head again and the voice said you've got mail but before you open it can we shoot you again as part of some kind of experiment that we are conducting on the human race? Of course,I replied-I love dying twice, being blown up and electrocuted and everything is just swell at the moment.

I was then asked if I wanted a hamburger and I refused because McDonalds is a huge trek from my place but the caller said that there was a delivery guy at the door. I opened it and there was box outside which I subsequently opened and which subsquently exploded and then I was asked if I wanted a pizza as well.

Of course, what else can one can answer if your dinner has just blown up and I must admit I was feeling pretty hungry at that point, despite everything. The pizza duly arrived and I must admit I was worried that the box would explode and get pizza everywhere and ruin my Rembrandts on the wall. But it was okay and as I ate I began feeling woozy and drunk and of course the phone rang and the caller asked me if I was enjoying being poisoned. Of course, I replied I love it and please Sir, can I have another slice?

I must have passed out and found myself in a huge kind of shopping mall with people milling around and children laughing and crying. The phone rang and I was told to go to the store at the end in order to pick up a dead body. Of course, of course, why not? So I went to the store and asked the storekeeper if they stocked dead bodies and she looked at me as if I was crazy.

Then her mobile rang and she listened and pointed me outside to the house on the left and I went in. I will have to admit that I was sick to death of being killed all the time and so I went in with an axe and a gun and swore I would kill everyone inside-which I duly did-and which I was to discover became a docudrama about my life in the future-but I was not to know that at that particular point in time.

I was just some idiot doing what he had been told and wishing to God I had listened to Reverend Al Smith on Facebook who sent an worldwide email that very morning asking me what I had been doing for Jesus lately and like a fool I replied that I was doing nothing at all but who cared, right?

Yeah right and so I picked up the new body. I was spoiled for choice-I had just killed several people who I had never even met and who meant nothing to me. I could be male or female, old or young and at random I picked a boy who liked the colour blue, it looked nice and cute and why not and it would never really matter because I was bound to get blown up sooner or later and so who cared, right?

Things got bad to worse as I got back to the condo because the voice on the line asked me to pick up a soul and of course, why not, they are so easy to find these days. The caller asked if I was being sarcastic and facetious. So I went back to the market to get a soul for the dead kid I had just murdered at the little house on the left. Blue or green? Did you know souls are coloured? There seemed to be fewer blues than greens so I chose blue because I am a guy and it is a guy colour and would look nice with my new suit and it would look good in a car. So blue it was to go with the kid I had just I blown away and then I got really worried because I could be in Texas and they execute people like me in Texas, no matter how old they are.

I got back to the condo, fixed myself a coffee and just then I got a call. I was told it was time. Time for what? Time to get shot or blown up or electrocuted or poisoned? No, it was more fun than that and I would really enjoy it. I began thinking about all the nice stuff, the Rembrandts in the condo, the Michael Angelo by the fireplace, the Picasso under the sofa and the chocolate under the fountain and Willy Wonka and Johnny Depp and Keira-I will really miss my darling Keira and my house which seemed to get bigger by the day. The phone rang again and I was accused of daydreaming and being stupid. I needed to get out more and make some friends and have some fun and then maybe get a job or whatever.

Time. I walked to the door and opened it and there was this huge flash and I found myself in some room and there was some woman I had never seen just crying her eyes out and for what? It seemed so damn stupid and so surreal and so I looked for my phone to call whoever had wrecked my day thus far in order to ask him to take me home. The phone was gone and all I could say was, 'waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah'

and the woman-whoever it was-looked at me and said her son looked so beautiful and just like his father. But I had killed their family at the shopping mall on the little house on the left and I tried to explain to her that I was not her son but was in fact some homicidal maniac who had got lost at the mall but all I could say was, 'waaaaaaaaaa' before being given some milk to drink from the lady's breast.

'Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah' the kid pretending to me cried. You would never believe that I used to be eloquent had gone to Harvard and used to live in a big condo and I wondered whether this was all part of getting old and senile and whether or not I had premature Alzheimers but no, it was all part of being born.

The story above is a satire or parody. It is entirely fictitious.

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