A Shoutout To All My Homies (and for all you other sad bastards too)

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Why hello there, friends and neighbors. Welcome to the End of the Suck. Or, that's what we're told anyways. That's what I was told.(Yes. I'm paraphrasing. Get used to it. If I wanted to get into technical psychobabble bullshit laced with legalese, I'd be waiting for my eyes to get ripped out. NO. You don't know what that means. Fuck off with your technicalities bullshit and keep reading.) I don't know about you. You could have been told there were pink pony rides and a free unicorn petting zoo coming your way, but I'm doubting that. Anyways, here we are, in this town. Where we're expected to live for an undisclosed amount of time. Peachy, says I.

Whatever. So there were other experiments too. Fucked up. Hi, I'm Janie, I was in the experiment of the Mansion Of Weird Fucking Doom in the Middle of the Goddamn Bloody Forsaken Woods. I think the rescue dudes referred to my case as having been from experiment 'a'. I like my title better. At least it's more accurate.

Anyways. If anyone wants the rundown on what happened to us, I can tell you. I'd want to know what happened to the rest of you insane yahoos who decided this experiment bullshit was a good fucking plan. We all need our heads examined. And oh hey look--we're all required to do that, so guess that's covered.

Anyhow, hey everyone that got out of that hellhole alive. I'm at number 13 Lime Street, right overlooking the cemetery. Which---who else finds that fucked up? Show of hands. Who else wants to go digging up one of the plots to see if there's a casket and corpse? Volunteers, please see me privately.

For those of you who don't know who the fuck I am, I'm Janie(as previously stated). (Gavin's living here with me, for anyone looking for him.) I do tarot readings. So, should you want one, come over, I'll do one for you. The world doesn't end for another few years, and it's going to be boring until then. Might as well kill some time.

The card of the day is:
The High Priestess
Not a bad card, kids, honestly we could do one hell of a lot worse.

Meaning: Enlightenment. Intuition, resourcefulness, independence, meditation, growth, evaluation, consciousness, mystery, inner illumination.

So, we've all just been given a big dose of 'oohhh so that's it', really, so this entire card and everything it means is probably pertaining to that, and I dare say our experience all being tossed in together in this town. It's one big melting pot of fucked up, damaged people, if no one learned a goddamn thing I'd be even more frightened for humanity. (As it stands I don't especially care we're all going to die in a few years anyways. So, have some fun, at least.)

And that was my PSA for the day. Later. I have a cemetery to go walking in.

 - .

Why a cemetery?

 - WHY (deity of choice) WHY?!

That is an awesome question? And I have no idea. Which is why I want to go dig up a grave, just to see if anyone's buried there. Because honestly now. This town in the middle of nowhere that looks like the set from back to the future? That's some high levels of fucked up.

Who're you, by the way?

 - .

Well, yes, but—digging up a grave? That seems a bit extreme, don't you think?

Bethany. And you?

 - definitions are subjective

That depends on your definition of 'extreme'. And Janie. Says up there.

But yeah, seriously, it depends on what you consider extreme. What's extreme to you might not be for me. After living in the house with people killing themselves, the scientists fucking us over all the time, people getting ripped up by wolves...that was fun. I was on the search party for that shit. The word alters what it might have once meant. So, no, actually, I wouldn't personally consider digging up a grave to see if it's fake or not extreme. I say tomato and all that.

 - .

Something totally out of the ordinary. And sorry—must not have been paying attention.

I see. That's a very in-depth definition, then.

 - ...

I like to be thorough. Otherwise, what's the point of defining anything?

 - .

Fair enough.

 - Unicorns could be a little dangerous for a petting zoo..

Pink pony rides? Unfortunately, that wasn't in the brochure, but they're getting people in from all over the world - maybe you'll get lucky.

In the meantime, hi, name's Nate - I'm one of the volunteers they've drafted in to help out around here. I could give you the whole rundown of my background, but I'd probably bore you. Let's leave it that I'm meant to be representing your rights here. But pink pony rides could be fun. Distracting at least.

I hope you enjoyed your walk.

 - but daddy, i wanted a BLUE pony

You got a brochure? What did yours say? 'Welcome to Awesomeland, Where Everything Is Just This Side Of Wonky, Please Ignore The Weird, Drive Carefully'? Hello, Nate. You actually signed up for this shit? Damn. That's some hardcore do-gooding. What's in it for you? Or are you one of those types who wants to save the world regardless of the fact that it's fucked sideways with a chainsaw seven ways til sunday? Just curious. Welcome to town, anyways. Most of us are going to be various levels of fucked in the head, just so you know, pink ponies aside.

And thanks! I probably will. I'm thinking of putting a tire swing in there. Might brighten up the joint.

 - I have some really good paint - will that do?

Actually, no, I didn't get a brochure. I got a wad of paper droning on about... what was it? Psychobabble legalese? But I always drive carefully. And yes, I, together with my wife, signed up for this 'shit'. We just like to do what we can, plus I'd got itchy feet from my old job and was looking for a new challenge. Though, word of warning - my carpentry sucks, so I'm probably not a go-too guy for a tire swing.

 - that depends, is it finger paint, stolen from wayward kindergarteners?

That's the stuff. I heard enough of that that at one point I seriously considered borrowing the dude's pen to stab myself in the ears, or jab it into his trachea so he'd stop fucking making that annoying bla bla bla sound. Thankfully, he was way over on the other side of the desk and that would have been way too much work. You and your wife, huh? Crazy. So did you drag her, or was she all gun ho to get crazy with the cheeze whiz here with us nutjobs?

Challenge is what you're going to find here, and that's just speaking with the fucking wacked merry assholes in my experiment. So, have fun with that, let me know how it works out for you.

Also, carpentry is hardly involved with tire swings. You grab a tire, and hang it from a tree by a rope that looks vaguely like it won't break at the first stiff wind. No actual carpentry involved, I'm sure you could handle it.

 - It might be... Does it make a difference?

No, she wants to be here as well - in fact you could call her my driving force. but she can speak for herself, so I won't say any more about it. You know how women can get about things at times. In the nicest possible way, of course.

And I'll still just watch for the tire swing. I skipped out on boy scouts and my knots are lethal, really.

 - of course it does. what the hell kind of outfit do you think we're running here?

Sure I know how women can get. I deal with them all the time. Also, I lack a penis.

You have lethal knots? Does that mean if we suddenly have a 'Middle of Nowhere Russia Strangler' we should take the pitchforks and torches to your house? Don't worry, we'll knock politely before the actual lynching.

 - One that steals from little kiddies, obviously...

Well, yes - I was aware of that. Or else your parents were real fuckers for naming their son 'Janie'. Either way.

And i actually meant I have lethal knots more in the way that of if I tied a ring onto a tree you'd break your neck when it came undone mid-swing.

 - if they're coming from wayward kindergarteners, those kids have gone rogue, and you don't want to know what they'll do with finger paint, mister. it ain't pretty.

So, you've met my mom then.

And ah, I see. Well, it's alright, I'll recruit Gavin to do it for me. And to help me jack the tire I'll need for it. Thanks for being honest and not being the cause of pointless death.

 - Hi!

Hi Janie. I'm Rin, so you know me some. I think I live across the street from you now. Did you look around the cemetery? It's kind of creepy living right near one. I don't want to dig one up though. Either it's not real so there's nothing, or it is and then we'd find bones and things. I'd rather not see.

 - in case of zombies

I remember you. And okay, if I go graverobbing, I'll not put you on the list of people I send the 'lookit what we found!' mailing list, or the commemorative christmas cards featuring me in an open grave. I'll just keep all that to myself and all, so you don't have to worry about it. Cemeteries aren't creepy, though. They're necessary. I mean, without them, there'd just be random bodies lying around in the gutters, in people's back yards. It'd be a mess. At least this way it keeps the stench down. And slows down the zombie apocalypse. Can you imagine the mess if they didn't have to dig themselves out of their graves? It's only practical.

 - .

Dude. Cremation. Gets rid of bodies AND has the pleasant bonus of forestalling any upcoming zombiepocalypse.

 - no fun.

While practical, your suggestion means it would be a lot less amusing when the dead did rise up. I mean the fresh zombies are one thing, but it's those old falling apart bone zombies like grandma with the crazy stuffed animal that are the most fun at parties. Games of 'ring around the zombie' have a much higher survival rate with those types.

 - way fun.

Right. Mandatory cremation means that all the people who're currently buried and rotting will rise and shamble around looking for brains, whereas all the fresh, probably faster-moving zombies will be nonexistent due to them being big piles of ash in decorative urns or scattered into the oceans or whatever.

I'd buy stock in the urn business while you've still got time; mandatory cremation could make you millions.

 - hello

My name is Dale. I was in Experiment D.

 - yo!

Hi, Dale. What happened to your lot? Anything fantastically disturbing and fucked up? Please, share.

 - ...

Nothing, I suppose, that's particularly interesting. The usual fights that happen when you trap a few people in a very small space for months on end, resulting in some complications. And there was an issue with some tunnels, and a magical house. Oh, and we haven't seen sunlight, and I mean that in the most literal way possible, since January. We were told that it was an experiment to find out if people could live underground in bomb shelters.

Turns out we can't, at least in my opinion.

 - well that sucks.

That definitely sounds like it blows. How small a space are we talking? Ours tended to expand when no one was looking. And underground bomb shelters? Tunnels? How are they eyes? You rockin some good shades for that?

 - ...

For the first while we were in a really small space - four bunks to a room, that sort of thing. Then they gave us a tunnel, which led to a ladder which led us too a big space with a house in it. It was a hell of a walk, and there weren't enough bedrooms in the house. I ended up just sticking with the bombshelter after the initial arguments. It was just easier than arguing, and at least I got some exercise out of it. Then we got more tunnels that would randomly shift around - including when people were in them - and sometimes they'd shift around time, too. As for my eyes... well, at least I have some really rockin good shades; it was perpetual twilight down there.

 - .

Just the person I wanted to see. So, what happened with the group after the scientists dropped us into the middle of Bumblefuck Nowhere? Did Dickface bite it, at least? (If you don't know who I'm talking about, just guess - hard to be far off with just about anyone.)

 - ..

not it. they told us you were dead, for one, so ... welcome back to life, i guess.

 - .

I'm not very enthusiastic about it either. Be nice if they let me know next time I'm supposed to be dead.

 - ..

better to be uninformed than eaten by bears, i always say. or just this once, at least.

 - -i- was the person you wanted to see? you realize that's fucked, yeah?

They told us you were gone, were general dicks about it, then later told us you were all corpsified. That was great. And people mostly went missing. So that was just peachy. So sadly, I can't tell you if he was dead. And anyways, everyone thought you were, so even if we were told he was dead, who the hell knows on that score, right? We could go look in the cemetery and see if we see anything that says 'Here Lies Cael. What A Dickface'.

 - .

Hey, it may be fucked, but at least I know you won't sugarcoat shit. Same reason you were prime newbie welcoming committee material. As for the dickface search -- pass. I meant what happened with you guys while we were supposedly dead. Things were kind of The Suck at the end there. I got all my shit from the house back, so either the scientists really were magical buttfucking fairies, or some straight up Houdini shit happened. Wait, that happened every day, didn't it?

You get my point, I'm sure.

 - Janie: Sugarcoat Free

Well that's true. Things did in fact suck. Like there was the awesome fun time where everyone was made to exercise for four hours a day and put on fad diets and shit. There was the time when they gave the house back but everything was minorly fucked, like bathrooms and shit, and clothes didn't fit right. Nothing too major, just enough to annoy the shit out of everyone. After the news came out about you guys dying, Torlin offed herself. That...wasn't fun.

Then it was Wild Kingdom in the house with like...wild hungry wolves and alligators and piranhas in the basement. Then there was the super fun time where Hannah's actions with some dude she had to take care of directly effected all of us. That was special, let me tell you. Then there was the propaganda campaign to break everyone up. Like bullshit journal entries and other middle-school-esk bullshit that really, I thought was fairly low rent for the scientists. I mean seriously, that was the best they could do? I mean sure, it fucked with some heads, but people kind of figured it out fairly quickly. How far can arguments go when basically it ran like this:
person a: you dick! you said mean shit about me!
person b: er...no i totally didn't.
person a: ...oh.

I think someone was drinking on the job when they came up with that shit. But whatever.

Then they made up for it by making a bunch of us go missing, and we had to find them. Or y'know. Horrible death and shit. Then the cavalry arrived and now we're here, in Crazy Psychofuck Back To The Future land. Dibs on a Delorian if one shows up.

 - I'd make commentary, but I'd probably be lynched.

That is, in fact, majorly fucked. And I'm not really all that sad to have missed it, though I felt shitty for it at the time. I was just a figurehead anyway. I might swing by and ask for more details sometime though, if it doesn't bother you to talk about. I figure you're my best bet there too, no offense.

 - i don't know, no one lynched Drew, who apparently worked for the fuckers.

You know me. I'm unbothered. So, sure. Whenever. I'll be around. Nice to see you're not dead, anyways.

 - ...Wait, what?

No, seriously. What?

 - just what i said.

Drew, he was like an intern or something, that's what he told us. It was a bit of a mess, like, he said he worked for them but then had tried with friends or some shit to take them down, but it didn't work and they dropped him in the house instead, and they were going to out him but he did it himself. A few people kicked his ass. I didn't. I think Gavin might have though. You'd have to ask him. But yeah. That was his story. He never did anything to me.

 - ...

Well, fuck.

 - beating, check

yup, sure did.

 - .

Wow, I would totally appreciate it if we didn't talk about that. That'd be awesome.

 - chill out, H. go to your happy place. of Orgasms.

People will find out anyways. I wasn't giving details--and don't plan to.

 - ..

what you're not telling them is you skipped out on rearranging the living room with me to walk around the cemetery. i'll just be making dinner like a good housebitch. spam or beanie-weanies?

 - .

Wow, seriously? Go, Janie.

 - rawk

What can I say? I rock and roll all day long, sweet susie.

 - get in the kitchen and make me some PIE.

Spam of course. Does a body good. And just so long as you get on making me pie when you're done.

 - pie, comin' up

pie's gonna cost ya. imagine me winking here.

 - PIE!!

Like what? Sheck-shul favors?