TNK’s “undertones on the pills”

[WTFauKorean]

authors note:
A friend challenged me to write a fiction using political undertones while drinking 5 shots of fishhead whiskey. I take the first shot and start the first paragraph, second shot on my fifth paragraph, third shot on my ninth paragraph and I dont think I can honestly say I remember anything after that. Without stopping to think, edit or outline my.... w/e the f*** this is, I created this free write on a word document and was planning on showing it to no one. This was created completly on the intention to analyze my train thought while slightly/well intoxicated, remember none of this was edited and this is how it is, that includes paragraph breaks. I hope you enjoy my humiliation because this is the last you'll see me doing this ever again... With out further adue I present to you "undertones on the pill"

[center][b]undertones on the pill[/b][/center]

They floated there…. For four weeks, they floated, suspended in a state of limbo, caught between two parallel worlds. The four of them, Adolf Hitler, Franklin Delano Roosevelt, Joseph Stalin and Hirohito couldn’t remember how they had gotten here. They could only argue and for four weeks they waited, they floated, they hated. They fought over everything; when to sleep, how to escape, who ate the last of the Pop-tarts, terrible, terrible things.

Then, like an epiphany they came to an agreement. The dark and sinister in which only a gallon of Military grade Beverly Hills’ Chihuahua could provide, next to my social experiment of course. At first there was denial, but that eventually gave way to acceptance. They landed on a floor materialized within the darkness, waiting patiently in what could have very well been hell.

You see, the god of bat-s*** insanity had put them there. The narrator controls this universe, toying with every concept that is born within these boundaries, limited only by my imagination and how much of these pills I can swallow. If you ask me swallowing these things are getting easier and easier… just look how small they’re getting… these pills are startling to look like ants scuttling along my table top, Teeheehee…

This image flashed into the minds of my four captives and their patience crumbled fearing the worst, Russia was the first to speak before anyone could hush him. “You sniveling coward, come out and show yourself! I will take you down rifle or not!”
Being the unforgiving god that I am I dropped my pants and responded to his cries by making it rain. Although I could have just drank more Redbull or Brawndo to reload my next payload, I fear that this setting is something my four captives have adapted to, after all I’ve been making it rain every hour for 2 weeks now and I felt like adding a change of pace.

I began the process for a new kind of weather. May I remind you that whales are a synonym for big and is also a synonym for my dick. You could imagine how terrified my captives were, when a sperm whale dropped from the sky. Its collision with the terrified men forced the empty void to shift. Into colors, textures, shapes, mass, existence. Now, a bar, a bar with beer, a bar with stools, a bar with that familiar smell of puke, alcohol, and repressed sexual energy.
20 seconds is all it took to create this world. Seated around a table were the four of them. With drinks on the house, because with a German man present, people tend to go broke after twenty-three seconds. But the peanuts weren’t free. You had to pay a dollar and Frank was outraged.

The four subjects were subconsciously represent the way I imagine them to act, which was a bad thing on their part because Hiro was wearing the suit that sub-zero wear from mortal Kombat, Stalin was holding a giant stuffed teddy bear with the most spectacular mustache since Taft and Franklin was dressed up as Captain America. Everyone looked to Hitler, whatever he was wearing couldn’t be good and he knew that.
With a sigh he looked in a mirror which I had conveniently placed in front of him, he found himself wearing Mickey Mouse ears and over-alls more suited for an 11 year old school boy, with knee high boots and arms replaced with enormous arm sized paint brushes.
“NEIN!” he tried to mutter, unfortunately in this universe I have set him to one volume. Forcing the poor German, to shout his most silently intended whispers, as most Germans are apt to do. “THIS CANT BE!” he whisper-screamed.

Frank sighed and grabbed his sinuses, his attitude like that of Jeff Goldblum in most movies. Everyone started paying attention to him. He said “Look, we all know why we’re here. We were placed here for the amusement of an immature child.” He looked on and said with a level headed and self conceited voice, “Again”. He had moved onto to Lost World Goldblum persona but he was quickly running out of quality Goldblum roles, because he only starred in like six GoldDamn movies.

Hitler downed yet another bottle and was at “SIXTEEN going on SEVENTEEN, because baby it’s time to DRIIINK! Better beware that Bottle looks rare, and baby I’M ON THE BRINK!” He was obviously what I might call “Drunk off his tits” and was in no shape to drive, let alone represent a country.
Stalin taking his drinks threw up…for ten seconds straight, witnesses would later recall, traumatized, that it was a lot like a waterfall. Powerful, deadly, and it attracted a lot of people. He smacked his lips together and eyed Hirohito out for what seemed like the most intense thirty minutes ever and said to him “You’re like a swan; I could stare at you forever.”

Hirohito sobbed freely.

“Man up you sniveling weasel, do you see the other men complaining?” said Stalin as he looked on at Hirohito with an intense look on his face which just screamed bloodlust…literally, but it only lasted for half a second because opening another mouth on his face screaming the unintended word “bloodlust” would just be sort of freaky. But not freaky enough, I popped a few more pills.

Frank scooted over a few inches and brushed off Stalin. Stalin straightened himself and gathered his bottles, he had the clipped demeanor and flushed complexion of a dignified gentleman denied sex at the last possible moment. He sat there petulantly casing what could have very well been blue balls or a topical STD. I’ll opt for the former.

“Alright, everybody hold up!” Frank tried to take role of de-facto leader, “Let’s all get ourselves together and work things out…we can do that right?” He looked around the room to find Stalin carefully examining teddy bear as to suspect spies within its velvety fur, Hitler downing yet his twentieth bottle mesmerized the sound of the zipping and unzipping of his pants and Hirohito suddenly staring back at him like he was something tasty to eat. Frank poured himself a drink or two or three or four…God, was it going to be a long night.

Frank swayed back and forth, a human pendulum with a BAC of 3.09, Hirohito took a huge gulp of “Hakuna Matata” and doubled over, his body obviously rejecting this new offense to everything basic human dignity stood for. His stomach heaved, his mouth opened and… all over Frank’s shoes.
Cracking a bottle he made his body waddle, intervened by Stalin “Don’t do it man, look I’ll help you beat the s*** out of him, he’ll give up. The beer bottle, that’s too much comrade, you’ll kill him, It would be unethical murder.”

Frank’s mind clouded by alcohol, winded back and stabbed Hirohito straight in the groin… twice. The wind whistled as the bottles flew and landed with the force of atomic bombs (real subtle, real nice). *f*** you Japan!* he thought “f*** you Japan!” he shouted. He’s going to have a few f***ed up kids for a while…

“This symbolism is literally killing me.” Hirohito cried.

Stalin looked at frank in disgust “you’re an a******.” Stalin justified his statement by cracking open a bottle of his own.

Hitler agreed by turning up the Jonas brothers on the bar’s T.V. “NEIN! WHAT THE f*** HAPPENED TO DISNEY, WHERE IS MEIN KAMPH!”

“Okay fine, I’m sorry I beat the crap out of you and forced you to sign an IOU that allowed me to take all your money, but maybe you should stop being a little prick and start watching some FOOTBALL!” Frank replied.

The other three stared blankly at him. Their trance was broken when Stalin randomly just drooled out of nowhere. He made a slurping sound as he tried to suck back in the spit but it was way too late and the spit hit the belly of his teddy bear.

“Ugh! That’s just nasty!”

“What the f***? Gross!”

The other three members backed away from him simultaneously. Hirohito looked to the sky “Was that supposed to symbolize something? Seriously WTF is with you man?” None of them waited for a response, but only because they didn’t expect one.

Three pills left…. Damn how do I make these trips count?

Hirohito interrupted my train of thought “You know I actually hope we stay here forever because think about it, whatever happens here, stays here.”

Frank nodded in agreement “yeah if we leave this place there is no way this is going to stay secret for long I mean this is just f***ing up publicity.”

Hitler stared intently at the Jonas brothers as if to memorize every line they sung.

Stalin cut open the back of his stuffed bear and crawled into it turning it into a make shift shelter to the night.

I popped the last three pills and used them to the one bat-s*** insane thing that no one else would do… save the document