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Wacky Boy
A Fiction Vignette by the Checkered Demon

The sun also rises said wack, addressing his boner while seeing the sun through slitted lids, stretching.

Subject is awake, masturbating as usual, said the data streaming down town to his shrink.

Whoa, shit! Throw off them sheets and walk, why don't you try. It's early yet and can only get worse. All this shit around.

Subject has risen, and headed towards the loo, pausing to scan through each window before passing. Careful foot placement and aggressive body posture, said Data.

The head is clean, no splotches or stains, clean. I baptize you with my piss, said wack, smiling into the mirror fronting the medicine cabinet.

Subject urinating possibly 218 CC, studying medicine cabinet.

OK, time for the gruel says Wack, opening the cabinet and viewing the labels: Valium, Percocet, a vape pen, and OxyContin. I can't get this shit mixed up, said Wack, but I'm sure to God tempted. I'm thinking they're lying.

Subject has opened medicine cabinet, and is studying it, muttering.

Subject has begun to inhale THC vapors from a vape pen. Singing Beach Boys hits.

Subject has ingested at least overdoses from each vial, chasing it with water, said the data, streaming down into the city to the shrink, sipping his coffee and forgetting last night.

I fucking KNOW they're lying, muttered Wack, and Grandpaw tole me, as he dug into the canvas zipper bag holding the WW2 Luger with the loaded clip.

Subject has weapon in hand, is dressed and leaving surveillance area, said data, to the shrink as he sipped his coffee. As his head exploded from three 65 year old pistol rounds.

It's all in the time lag.

Is your internet slow?

Slow internet kills.

-Checkered Demon

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