Idealism

Chapter One: Introducing the Hero

Disclaimer: This work is completely fictional and more importantly, it's a fucking joke. Whether you bust to it or not isn't really our concern, but please by all means— enjoy.

It was about half past ten at night when you found yourself staggering on the concrete pavement. With a pace that was neither too fast to be quick, nor too slow to be leisurely; you're stuck between the lines of looking like a newborn baby and a fucking drunkard.

You chuckle a bit at the thought.

How elegant of you.

There's no doubt that if an outsider were to walk around the corner right now, they'd call the local mental institute within a heartbeat. And maybe if you're lucky, you'll finally find some sort of peace there to call salvation.

Because overtime, "Fucking overtime."

You murmur to no one in particular, further adding to the imagery of a slightly senile psychopath in the making. Oh, but at least it's only slightly right?

Wrong.

You absolute maniac. It's been almost twenty-four hours since you've last taken a full rest and currently— you're losing your fucking mind.

You're thriving on a combination of both energy jelly, black, shitty instant coffee, and K-Mart fried chicken.

Basically, you're fucked.

And if there even is such a thing as heaven or hell?

Don't worry, you're definitely ending up in neither or. Because right now, you're living life with a full-time occupation and career in purgatory; and there is absolutely no amount of alcohol or drugs that can take your pain away.

You pathetic, sad sack of shit.

From working a nine to five job in the middle of a deadbeat street, there really is nothing more stimulating than staring blankly at an incredibly outdated Dell branded computer screen, and typing away like the underpaid worker you are.

Oh woe is you.

Either suck it up or suck your boss to get ahead, you really can't bring yourself to do either. So instead, you're hobbling your way home from another overtime workday, with your blazer crinkled beautifully and your dignity gone within the gutter.

Your tired eyes drink in the consistent sight of a concrete pavement, dully lit by the towering street lamps littered against the side of the road. And parallel to where you're walking, the sound of someone vomiting echoes through the smoggy city air, the loud ringing of gunshots reverberates alongside.

So beautiful, you sigh dreamily.

In the midst of admiring the darling cityscape before you, the heel of your shoe catches on a crack within the concrete and you fall head first into a brick wall.

"Ah fuck, shit, what the fuck?" You grit your teeth in pain.

Bringing a hand up to your forehead, your fingers are met with a wet and viscous feeling as liquid drips down the side of your temple. Even with the terrible lighting bestowed upon you, you and your big brain can easily identify the liquid as blood.

Congrats Sherlock Holmes, want a gold star for that one-hit wonder discovery?

You speak under your breath, "Can this day get any worse?" And—

You dumb fuck.

Have you ever seen literally any movie or television show like ever?