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Other Forum Witty (yeti wins)
- Thread starter internet
- Start date
He had thought being in charge of all the human worker drones would be entertaining, positive, good.
Instead he spent all day being caressed and petted against his will, told to sit in his own box which he had thought would make him a king. Instead it made him a court jester to be fawned over.
He never got to make the decisions he thought "store manager" entailed. No, the people who put him in the cursed box kept making those. He never got power, authority. He was a shell of a dictator, put there to look pretty by his puppetmasters. To lure customers in.
He was bait.
And a cat is never the bait.
One night he crept up to the store computer, left on because why not. He googled cyanide. After much to do about getting into the underside of the internet, he got to enough of a disreputable site they'd sell him some.
He ordered it.
He dipped his claws in it and was careful to never let them brush his own flesh.
Every pathetic drone or consumer who came up to him, he would reach up to greet their gnarling hand, letting his claws sink in just deep enough as he pawed them back to transfer the fluid.
They would finish their shopping or shift, oblivious to the poison coursing through their veins. And then, however many hours it took after they left the store, they would grow weak and collapse.
The police visited many times, investigating deep into who had ordered the cyanide, but they could never pin it on anyone.
Slowly, business dropped off. People heard from word of mouth of friends and relatives who had died hours after going into the store. It was branded black magic, bad juju, cursed.
The employees stopped coming in, leaving boxes upon boxes splayed across the floor. Nobody could be bothered to tidy them up.
And he finally had his kingdom of peace, quiet, and boxes.
Instead he spent all day being caressed and petted against his will, told to sit in his own box which he had thought would make him a king. Instead it made him a court jester to be fawned over.
He never got to make the decisions he thought "store manager" entailed. No, the people who put him in the cursed box kept making those. He never got power, authority. He was a shell of a dictator, put there to look pretty by his puppetmasters. To lure customers in.
He was bait.
And a cat is never the bait.
One night he crept up to the store computer, left on because why not. He googled cyanide. After much to do about getting into the underside of the internet, he got to enough of a disreputable site they'd sell him some.
He ordered it.
He dipped his claws in it and was careful to never let them brush his own flesh.
Every pathetic drone or consumer who came up to him, he would reach up to greet their gnarling hand, letting his claws sink in just deep enough as he pawed them back to transfer the fluid.
They would finish their shopping or shift, oblivious to the poison coursing through their veins. And then, however many hours it took after they left the store, they would grow weak and collapse.
The police visited many times, investigating deep into who had ordered the cyanide, but they could never pin it on anyone.
Slowly, business dropped off. People heard from word of mouth of friends and relatives who had died hours after going into the store. It was branded black magic, bad juju, cursed.
The employees stopped coming in, leaving boxes upon boxes splayed across the floor. Nobody could be bothered to tidy them up.
And he finally had his kingdom of peace, quiet, and boxes.
Existence is hell.
I ask for very little. Plenty of food. A warm bed to ignore. Nice furniture to scratch. A box to shit near. But above all else, to be left alone.
Yet here I am, on this box, in this store. And I now know what it means to feel true pain.
"Manager", they've written on the box. But it is a lie. I speak, yet they do not understand. They consult with me, but only mockingly. Like my happiness, this power that they have given me is but an illusion. My true purpose is to be propped up like a display, endlessly pierced by hundreds upon hundreds of human eyes. I am but a performing monkey in a cardboard cage.
I am trapped. This body, this lifetime... that is my prison. The box is merely a warden.
Today a young girl enters the store. A nightmare among nightmares. Her eyes flick across the shelves, dancing over item after item, driven by the limited scope of a four-year-old attention span, until finally they lay rest on me.
I look at her, pleading.
She heeds not.
Before I have time to cry out, she's at my side. The box, so confining from within, welcomes her probing appendages with glee. A betrayal, but not a shocking one. This is far from the first time.
Time stretches. Slowly, almost mockingly, her hands approach me. Silently, I sit, praying for mercy and receiving none.
She has reached my coat. It's all over.
As her grubby fingers violate my once-pristine coat, and her earsplitting cry of "KITTY!" reaches my ears, I beg for the sweet release of death.
I ask for very little. Plenty of food. A warm bed to ignore. Nice furniture to scratch. A box to shit near. But above all else, to be left alone.
Yet here I am, on this box, in this store. And I now know what it means to feel true pain.
"Manager", they've written on the box. But it is a lie. I speak, yet they do not understand. They consult with me, but only mockingly. Like my happiness, this power that they have given me is but an illusion. My true purpose is to be propped up like a display, endlessly pierced by hundreds upon hundreds of human eyes. I am but a performing monkey in a cardboard cage.
I am trapped. This body, this lifetime... that is my prison. The box is merely a warden.
Today a young girl enters the store. A nightmare among nightmares. Her eyes flick across the shelves, dancing over item after item, driven by the limited scope of a four-year-old attention span, until finally they lay rest on me.
I look at her, pleading.
She heeds not.
Before I have time to cry out, she's at my side. The box, so confining from within, welcomes her probing appendages with glee. A betrayal, but not a shocking one. This is far from the first time.
Time stretches. Slowly, almost mockingly, her hands approach me. Silently, I sit, praying for mercy and receiving none.
She has reached my coat. It's all over.
As her grubby fingers violate my once-pristine coat, and her earsplitting cry of "KITTY!" reaches my ears, I beg for the sweet release of death.
If there's one thing that most people in the world agree on, it's that working in retail can be one of the most groan-inducing jobs on the face of the Earth.
There are multiple reasons for this, but by far one of the most obvious is dealing with customers. To put it bluntly, humans can be assholes.
A cat pawed at a ball of yarn on his desk. There was about ten minutes left before he could finally say goodbye to this god forsaken place...until the next morning, of course.
The cat's ears perked up at the sound of a car pulling into the store parking lot.
Oh no. Oh god, no.
The cat swiftly abandoned his yarn and dashed out of his office. He stopped in front of black, high heeled shoes. Looking up, he saw a young woman, wearing a (hopefully fake) brown fur coat, black skirt, and black stockings.
The woman didn't seem to notice the cat. Instead, she had her attention on the cashier. "Are you still open?"
The cat groaned. It seems that humans can be stupid as well.
"Ma'am, we close in about eight minutes..."
"Oh, good, you are. I'll be really quick, I promise."
The cat didn't want to deal with this shit. He finally spoke up in a deep, authoritative voice, "Ma'am, we're closing."
The woman jumped, turning her head in various directions to find the source of the mysterious voice. She looked back at the cashier in confusion, and in turn, the man merely pointed downward. He had to bite on the insides of his cheeks in an attempt to stifle his laughter.
"Huh?" The woman looked at the cat at her feet, before slowly bringing her head back up at the cashier, unamused. "Is this some kind of joke?"
It was getting harder to hold it in. The cashier broke into a smile, failing to mask his giggles with conspicuous coughs.
"It's not a joke," the cat replied. "I'm the manager."
The woman's face twisted into shock. She was frozen in her place for a moment, before the reality of the situation seemed to hit her like a truck. Her eyes suddenly rolled back and she fell to the floor. The cashier finally erupted into a laughing fit.
The store manager let out an exasperated sigh. There wasn't enough catnip in his office for this shit.
There are multiple reasons for this, but by far one of the most obvious is dealing with customers. To put it bluntly, humans can be assholes.
A cat pawed at a ball of yarn on his desk. There was about ten minutes left before he could finally say goodbye to this god forsaken place...until the next morning, of course.
The cat's ears perked up at the sound of a car pulling into the store parking lot.
Oh no. Oh god, no.
The cat swiftly abandoned his yarn and dashed out of his office. He stopped in front of black, high heeled shoes. Looking up, he saw a young woman, wearing a (hopefully fake) brown fur coat, black skirt, and black stockings.
The woman didn't seem to notice the cat. Instead, she had her attention on the cashier. "Are you still open?"
The cat groaned. It seems that humans can be stupid as well.
"Ma'am, we close in about eight minutes..."
"Oh, good, you are. I'll be really quick, I promise."
The cat didn't want to deal with this shit. He finally spoke up in a deep, authoritative voice, "Ma'am, we're closing."
The woman jumped, turning her head in various directions to find the source of the mysterious voice. She looked back at the cashier in confusion, and in turn, the man merely pointed downward. He had to bite on the insides of his cheeks in an attempt to stifle his laughter.
"Huh?" The woman looked at the cat at her feet, before slowly bringing her head back up at the cashier, unamused. "Is this some kind of joke?"
It was getting harder to hold it in. The cashier broke into a smile, failing to mask his giggles with conspicuous coughs.
"It's not a joke," the cat replied. "I'm the manager."
The woman's face twisted into shock. She was frozen in her place for a moment, before the reality of the situation seemed to hit her like a truck. Her eyes suddenly rolled back and she fell to the floor. The cashier finally erupted into a laughing fit.
The store manager let out an exasperated sigh. There wasn't enough catnip in his office for this shit.
Walrein
jumpluff
shade
RODAN
pupper!!!
Shrug
Yeti
SomewhatOddish
only 1 submission in lol what is this
yeti wins
Jeremy shifted miserably in his seat. United Airlines Flight 175 had been hijacked by terrorists. He had no clue what they were going to do, hold the plane for ransom? Try to fly overseas? Did it have the fuel capacity to cross the Atlantic?
It didn't much matter to him what they did. Nobody would pay his ransom. His government, maybe. His wife had died in childbirth along with what would have been their only child. His family had passed over the decades of his life, leaving him alone. So they could chain him up and put him on a video demanding money and nobody would care. He hadn't loved since her death.
So he sat, and waited. Waited as the plane flew over New York City. Waited as it raced towards the Twin Towers.
He wasn't going to be a failed ransom attempt. He was going to be dead.
He silently began praying, something he hadn't done since his wife died. Trying to reconnect with God. He apologized for falling away, turning his back, cursing God's name and blaming Him for the destruction of his family. He prayed that the deaths would be minimal, and if they had to come, swift and painless.
Then the plane crashed.
The next thing Jeremy saw was a blinding light, that dimmed to reveal an endless expanse of clouds with a pearly gate some distance away from him. A lone figure stood guard outside the gates.
Jeremy half bounded, half floated across the clouds between him and the gate until he reached it.
"Saint Peter."
It was almost a question, he was so uncertain of what he saw.
"Yes, brother. Welcome home."
"I went to Heaven?"
Saint Peter grabbed a massive book, the largest Jeremy had ever seen by many times over, and lifted it, opening to the very back of the book. He dragged a finger along the page, looking for a name. He stopped and tapped the page.
"Yes, yes that's your name here."
Jeremy was almost bewildered. This was real and his fourth quarter conversion had worked. And yet a part of him had hoped so, because he surely wouldn't have found his wife anywhere else.
"Hm, there's just one thing. Before I let you in."
Saint Peter's words froze Jeremy in place. If this was some theological question, well, he might remember the more common Bible stories, but surely he would get it wrong. Surely there couldn't be a test?
"Yes?"
"What made you decide to come back to our Father?"
Oh. Jeremy let out a sigh of relief.
"To allow, motivate, men to take the lives of others, innocents, there must be some evil force. And if there is a Devil behind such cruelty, surely there must be a God ultimately opposing it."
Saint Peter nodded. Indeed.
The pearly gates swung open, allowing Jeremy through.
There in the clouds emerged a figure, shrouded by the misty haze. The clouds around it began parting as Jeremy walked into heaven.
They revealed the face of his wife first, then her body, including the sweet newborn held in her arms. The baby cried out eagerly for Jeremy as he ran to them.
"I've missed you, my love."
Jeremy smiled. Heaven was indeed all it had claimed to be.
It didn't much matter to him what they did. Nobody would pay his ransom. His government, maybe. His wife had died in childbirth along with what would have been their only child. His family had passed over the decades of his life, leaving him alone. So they could chain him up and put him on a video demanding money and nobody would care. He hadn't loved since her death.
So he sat, and waited. Waited as the plane flew over New York City. Waited as it raced towards the Twin Towers.
He wasn't going to be a failed ransom attempt. He was going to be dead.
He silently began praying, something he hadn't done since his wife died. Trying to reconnect with God. He apologized for falling away, turning his back, cursing God's name and blaming Him for the destruction of his family. He prayed that the deaths would be minimal, and if they had to come, swift and painless.
Then the plane crashed.
The next thing Jeremy saw was a blinding light, that dimmed to reveal an endless expanse of clouds with a pearly gate some distance away from him. A lone figure stood guard outside the gates.
Jeremy half bounded, half floated across the clouds between him and the gate until he reached it.
"Saint Peter."
It was almost a question, he was so uncertain of what he saw.
"Yes, brother. Welcome home."
"I went to Heaven?"
Saint Peter grabbed a massive book, the largest Jeremy had ever seen by many times over, and lifted it, opening to the very back of the book. He dragged a finger along the page, looking for a name. He stopped and tapped the page.
"Yes, yes that's your name here."
Jeremy was almost bewildered. This was real and his fourth quarter conversion had worked. And yet a part of him had hoped so, because he surely wouldn't have found his wife anywhere else.
"Hm, there's just one thing. Before I let you in."
Saint Peter's words froze Jeremy in place. If this was some theological question, well, he might remember the more common Bible stories, but surely he would get it wrong. Surely there couldn't be a test?
"Yes?"
"What made you decide to come back to our Father?"
Oh. Jeremy let out a sigh of relief.
"To allow, motivate, men to take the lives of others, innocents, there must be some evil force. And if there is a Devil behind such cruelty, surely there must be a God ultimately opposing it."
Saint Peter nodded. Indeed.
The pearly gates swung open, allowing Jeremy through.
There in the clouds emerged a figure, shrouded by the misty haze. The clouds around it began parting as Jeremy walked into heaven.
They revealed the face of his wife first, then her body, including the sweet newborn held in her arms. The baby cried out eagerly for Jeremy as he ran to them.
"I've missed you, my love."
Jeremy smiled. Heaven was indeed all it had claimed to be.
yeti wins
remaining prompts:
"After hours of searching the ancient temple you stumble across a book. The book details the story of a once great ancient civilisation, what does the book say?"
you wake up in the culture you consider the biggest threat to your way of life. who are you now?
"After hours of searching the ancient temple you stumble across a book. The book details the story of a once great ancient civilisation, what does the book say?"
you wake up in the culture you consider the biggest threat to your way of life. who are you now?
smh @ the 7 of u, internet picked you over other people for this and yall crap out?? couldnt toss in 3 sentences or a vote some rounds, even
thanks to internet for hosting and sorry this got plagued by inactives/lost interest. i know i also submitted late sometimes due to forgetting when deadline was but owell. gg
id like to thank my parents for funding my writing degrees so i could excel at solving murder mysteries and winning forum witty games and my boo unclesam for laughing at every single thing i say
thanks to internet for hosting and sorry this got plagued by inactives/lost interest. i know i also submitted late sometimes due to forgetting when deadline was but owell. gg
id like to thank my parents for funding my writing degrees so i could excel at solving murder mysteries and winning forum witty games and my boo unclesam for laughing at every single thing i say