The War On Sesame Street

Prologue

Word count: 860 words
Summary: Big Birds' first journal entry

Sunny days, sweeping the clouds away. On your way to where the air is sweet? I can tell you this now, you don’t want to go to Sesame Street. Sesame Street isn’t as sunshine and rainbows as it used to be. We’re starving, our food being taken from our hands by the corrupt and brutal authorities. We’ve lost our homes, taken for upper classes to move into. We’re forced to work for no more than 2 pennies, taking days, no weeks just to afford a spool of bread. We’re dying. We’ve lost Rosita, we’ve lost Zoey and Rocko. Julie, poor Julie. She fell right into their deadly grasp, thinking that she could work for so much more than the mere coins we’re given. She was told she would be given a promised land, all to herself if she’d join the upperclassmen. They fucking lied. They lied right to her sweet face. All that she left was her bunny. I wear it every day to avenge her soul. Sesame Street was made anew when one sick, twisted asshole thought he could get his way forever. A man so vile, his name leaves a disgusting taste in my mouth; Elmo.

Elmo, that conniving fucking asshat. He only leaves his homes open for those who would drop to their knees if it would save their heads from a low swinging axe. He gives the nicer, larger portions of food to those who went under his wing during Sesame Streets’ fall in 1993. He’s given only those who would be hypnotized by a fucking carrot the well fitting and luxurious clothes. He lets the rest of us rot, rot like how he should in the depths of Hell. Oh, where did it go wrong?

Let’s go back to when Elmo wasn’t the righteous ruler he is now. 2003, a beautiful night with a lovely full moon. Snuffy and I, we went to a dance our new king had put in place, to celebrate his then perfect ruling. He gave us a disco night, complete with a light up floor and a large mirror ball, hung from the ceiling like that rat bastard should’ve been. We danced the night away, leaving all worries behind us. Then, the worst happened. If you think that just the ball falling would be terrible, have you really read about what our wasteland is today? Elmo, he sent his men after us. The men, their dogs, anything he could hurt us with, he’d throw in our path. I stared right into his eyes, those soulless eyes as his smile twisted into an evil grin, watching everyone that he once knew and loved be destroyed, teared from the seams. As the room flooded with screams of terror, my mind went blank. The area around me froze, the noise was deafening, but as my fear ate me from the inside out, it all stopped. Everything stopped.

The floor began to shake as the one thing I wish I didn’t have to see had happened. They took down Snuffy. I looked to my left, and as I watched them tear Snuffy apart, his fluff being thrown across the floor, lit up from the neon lights below. I couldn’t move. I was forced to watch my dearest friend, practically my brother, being ripped limb from limb. My Fight or Flight response finally hit me. “SNUFFY”, I yelled out. He looked over with his final dying gasp, but did they stop? Like the music that played through the night, they didn’t. As Funky Town began to end, so did Snuffy’s life. They knew he died, but that didn’t stop them. They knew Snuffy would be a unit in a battlefield so before we could revolt, they took down our possible biggest soldier. They kept attacking until there was no possible way to resuscitate him. I tried to force them off of him, as they ripped off his trunk and gouged out his eyes.

They finally removed themselves from his corpse, and in response, I launched myself onto him. His body was still warm, but the life in his one good eye had gone cold. I looked right back up at that red, limp dicked douche in his throne, he snickered looking down at me in my weakest moment. “WHY HIM?”, I cried. “WHY HIM AND NOT ME?”. “Because Elmo has seen you. Elmo has watched. Big Bird is weak. Now, get the hell out of here. Before Elmo calls them back and they’ll deal with Big Bird too”.

I was taken aback hearing such language from him. “Do it, fucker, Elmo’s gonna call them in now”, he teased. And so, I left. I left, leaving my friends’ mutilated corpse on the ground. Snuffy was never given a burial. I still go by that wretched building, nearly on its last limb. I go and grieve. Even after Snuffy’s corpse began to decompose, I still went. I miss my Snuffy. And Snuffy must hate me for leaving him to die. I didn’t try to fight in the beginning, I just watched. If I wasn’t such a fucking coward then, I could’ve saved him. Snuffy, I’m so sorry.