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« on: July 31, 2008, 03:25:33 PM »
I killed myself and got addicted to smack because I didn't complete the program. And wound up in jail. Being dead in jail isn't so bad, it being a dead addict thats the problem. I am considering returning to elan and faking it until/when I make it (to ramrod). Being a dead ramrod isn't so bad really, at least I'll have laces on my shoes and get to make subliminally subversive productions for the communications office. Nothing has ever really been the same for me since I didn't graduate elan and died and got addicted to smack and lost my laces. I spend most of my time locked in a dark room crying to myself, emerging only periodically to access fornits at my local public library, it is the one shining ray of hope in my otherwise bitter for not completing the program life. The ONE ray of hope I tell you, and i'll be damned if you're going to take this away from me, even if you already got my shoelaces. P.S. I stole the expeditors key and threw it behind the water heater and laughed to myself as all the coordinators shit themselves trying to find it. I retrieved the key several weeks later and used it to read my expeditor reports. They seemed to think I was some sort of lamprey like suckerfish/eastern european vampire crossed with a hashish plant. I didn't know what to tell them. I had lost my one true love, another Ramrod named Eliza. Chief was called, and he asked me if i wanted to be a cannibal in a mexican circus - what could I say? Thats when I woke up in downtown lewiston-auburn with a needle in my arm and a flourescent orange t-shirt wrapped round my head. Something had gone terribly amiss, and the only solution was located in New jersey. I hobbled home after collecting enough cans to rent a mule and fill it halfful with gas but I looked ridiculous without shoelaces. One false move, one cross-eyed look from the wrong gas station attendant and the whole jig was up. The fat is in the fire. Dawn is coming up, and I must be gone. Eliza is sprawled out in my bed on the nod, admiring the diamond ring that serves as our Joker in the whole, downpayment for a 93' Toyota Tercel, and her engagement contract all rolled into one. I've painstakingly selected the perfect knife. Elan will pay. mark me. we will walk a road of their bones?
-Mister Pink
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culled from the dark fantasies of a man named MARTY KRUGLICK - chief elan-bot programmer for ELAN inc.