Life Outside PLT1

SON OF WANG: Part 7

I was standing in the hospital hallway wide eyed and adjusting my pants when my vision faded to white and with it, my feelings of shock and urgency.

Hallucinations or daydreams have begun to kick in it would appear, but what am I seeing now? Is this the real life? Or is this just fantasy? I’m seeing white and I feel as though I’m on my back, the sky is layered with clouds and my head seems to be on fire - no wait, maybe It only feels like it’s on fire – upon feeling my head with my right hand; no, my head is not on fire.

Propping myself up with my right arm I didn’t see any robotic alien walkers or smoke trail residue or interior walls for that matter. I almost began to wonder where I was but the feeling of concrete chips stinging my buttocks reassured me I was nestled in the safe environs of a suburban parking lot frequented by the homeless and the sick; the sun was setting and there looked to be no vehicles and no people nearby.
Turning my head back I see the hospital with all doors and glass panes intact and began to wonder what it was I thought I saw and how the hell I got from in there to out here.

The obvious action to take would be to go back inside and see what went on and so I did do that; I did that like it was the right thing to do because doing that was the only thing I could think of doing and if I didn’t know how to do any different then it couldn’t possibly be wrong to do, right? Well in retrospect, it was the right thing to do.
Pushing open the door, the feelings of urgency reawakened when I saw a wide blood smear 4 feet from the door the changing shade of orange as my eyes darted up it’s length suggested it originating from somewhere down the hall. Hospital staff was nowhere to be seen and no patients either for that matter, which was odd, seeing as how I could easily walk behind the unattended counter and start making toll calls; luckily for them I resisted that impulse and decided to follow the blood smear down the hall.
Past rooms filled with covered beds and beeping grey boxes, the blood smear ended at a mess of red and orange droplets right outside my father’s room, where I’d fallen and couldn’t get back up, I took off my shirt and looked at the back of it; the long fingers of dried blood confirmed to me that I’d been dragged from this spot to where I regained consciousness in the parking lot, still, there was no medical staff in sight and I hadn’t seen any on the way over from the front door. I looked to the vending machine; the glass was shattered and all the sandwiches were gone. I smelled a confusing medley of smells coming from the room; a combination of blood and other fluids, alongside my curiosity and against my better judgement; I investigated.

I looked to the bed; it was empty. My father was gone.
I looked to the foot of the bed; motionless bodies of uniformed medical staff.
I looked closer; it appears that they all died with crushed skulls, broken spines and severe swelling of the torso.

From almost outside my field of vision, a man rushed me and pinned me to the wall. His eyes were wide as breath mints and when he talked his breath smelled like breath mints.

“HE KILLED THEM! HE KILLED THEM ALL!”
“What the fuck? Get off me you poorly dressed…
Hrmm… what’s a funny thing to call someone who smells like breath mints?
…Pine tree!”
“NO! NO! NO! YOU HAVE TO LISTEN!”
I struggled
“Let go of me.”
”HEY!”
“WHAT?”
“LISTEN!”

He pressed a gun into my meaty flank.

“I’m listening.”
He pulled the gun away
“You’re the boy; yes… You’re his boy; the boy with the fire hydrant in his pants yes. Do you know what he’s done?”
”Well yeah, I may have a fairly good idea; he ‘killed them, killed them all’?”
“He’s gone… Can’t you see? He’s out there and he- He’ll do… He’ll do again, he’ll do again what he did to them.”
Looking to the bodies on the ground, the man burst into tears.
“Alright man, pull yourself together; let me go and I’ll go find him”
“And… and then what?”
“I don’t know… It’s hard to think; I don’t know what I’ll do but I have to find him.”
“Will you m-make him stop?”
“I don’t know, but I’m his son; I might be the only one who can”
He releases me
“You’re right… You’re right.”
“Can you help me? What’s your name?”
“My name is Jack Jackson.”
“Ok Jack, let’s go.”

I begin walking away towards the entrance when Jack says something.

“NO!
I turn around and see Jack pointing his pistol towards his head.
… I’VE SEEN TOO MUCH.”

With a mighty bang, Jack was gone forever.

With great astonishment, I walked over to where his lifeless body lay and kneeled down beside him. I opened my mouth; I said only two words.

“Thanks Jack”

With that I looted his body, taking away with me his wallet, gun and box of breath mints.
With a gun in my hand and a mouth full of fresh breath, I walked out into the empty sunset streets.

I’m moderating the crap out of this post.

Hello god damn.

You may be wondering what the hell i’m doing here; but you know what? So am I.
There’s a very underrated concept coming to mind when I scroll down the page, in the outside world people refer to this concept as “QC”. This is mostly because people are either lazy or live in harsh desert environments where it is important to preserve your internal moisture by minimising breathing, perspiration and open-mouthed talking as saying what QC stands for in full would cause you to lose approximately 0.0013 cc of moisture over simply saying QC, considering how much i’m going to use the acronym QC in this here article that would add up to a fairly significant amount of water, bile, blood and trace urine you will have saved up if you were to read this post out loud over the hypothetical post containing QC in it’s exploded (expanded) form.

QC does quite a bit more than simply providing a topic with which to surround with cryptic paragraphs; here’s a few things that QC has done for us:
- Regulated the amount of rodent faeces food ingredients may be exposed to in storage
- Limited the maximum length of time frozen units of sperm may be stored for
- Blocked the release of horrible non-franchise computer games in non-holiday periods
- Blocked the release of Son of Wang: Parts 7-99
- Blocked the release of Son of Wang: The Illustrated Series
- Blocked the release of Son of Wang: The Movie
- Blocked the release of pictures of my own wang

And therein lies the point of QC. Self-censorship in some ways but in many other ways applying a buttplug to the anus that wants to shit all over the concept of good taste.
But on the other hand, too much QC can be bad; take for instance all the excellent and promising TV shows Fox has cancelled over the years but then again some could argue that intelligent QC would have saved those shows leading us to the conclusion that Fox QC is backwards in nature working to preserve the shit in which case it’s not QC at all.

So let’s all come together and QC intelligently and QC alot. But not too much.

QC

NOTE:
Son of Wang: Parts 7-99/The Illustrated Series/The Movie do not exist and never will. Pictures of my own wang do not exist -to my knowledge- but may one day exist or may already exist. My own wang does exist.

The School Girl Uniform

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Halloween Pumpkins

I know we don’t do these down in NZ, but they are still cool

Continue reading Halloween Pumpkins…