Sunday, July 29, 2007

750 Words

He fucked a cat. Then he fucked another cat. Then a cat came along and he fucked it. Then he fucked the first cat again. Then the cat fucked him. Then he and the cats fucked a dog. Then the dog fucked the cats. Then he fucked the dog alone. Then he went to the store, the grocery store and fucked everyone in it, including his grandma and his grandpa. He started in the milk aisle. He didn’t fuck the toddlers and the grade schoolers but starting at age fifteen he fucked everyone. Then he went out of the grocery store and into the parking lot and let the dogs and the cats from before out of his pickup truck and he fucked each one of them again. They were used it, so they just stood in a peaceful obedient line. Then he fucked the pickup truck. It hurt a little bit but he mostly liked it because everybody likes fucking everything to some extent. He went to the police station and fucked all the cops. The cops were like what the fuck but he fucked them all anyway. Then he went to the gazebo in the park. Nearby, there was a large bird on a wire, a pheasant, and he went up to the top of the wire, and hung from the wire without touching any of the other wires because he knew that would get him electrocuted, and then he grabbed the pheasant, who could talk and was like, “oh shit, it’s that guy again,” and he fucked the pheasant in the air hanging from the telephone wire. Then he let go and landed in a ninja crouch. These ninjas saw it and they jumped out and guess what happened? The ninja crouch was just a ruse and he fucked one of the ninjas who was like, “yeah, actually that’s not bad, that’s pretty good,” and he walked away and turned the corner, and the left-out ninjas were like, “whoa,” and then he reappeared and fucked all the ninjas because when he left he was just fucking with them. He rested for a week because occasionally you have to rest.

Then he went to Washington and developed a theme system where he’d organize his fucking patterns by theme, like only fucking certain nationalities, like all swedes one month. Or another pattern slash theme would be fucking people without them knowing it, or just blowjobs, which he felt sort of dissatisfied about and went back and fucked those people again. These are the little games you have to come up with to keep yourself motivated when you’re trying to accomplish something special.

Then it was the national badminton championships and during halftime he fucked eighteen people and then a security guard, Jane Fonda, Elijah Wood, Ruth Bader Ginsburg, yet another Alpaca, your dad, you, your mom, your sister, you uncle Craig, Pat Sajack, the skeleton of Abraham Lincoln, then he did that thing where you stretch your penis around and fuck your own self up the ass, and then he fucked Philip Roth, who LOVED it, and then he fucked Shamu 7 and Jessica Tandy at the same time. Then he cyber-fucked that exact list of people over the internet.

Then he went on this wilderness jag where, as a result, he eventually fucked every moose in Canada, all of which he filmed. That catalyzed another theme month, where he went around with a video of him fucking mooses and wolverines and shit in Canada and showed it to people and fucked all the people that were aroused by the video. That was a really cool month, he thought. He was pleased. Then his appendage fell off and he had to have it surgically reattached and he fucked the surgeon. Then he went to the oval office and the people he found there were the first ones he couldn’t bring himself to fuck.

Then, to purify himself, he went to New York and made achingly sweet love to Michiko Kakutani in her drab apartment. He felt they shared something important because she was so beautiful even when she complained about how you can’t do things justice in 750 words.

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