Psycho Story Concept

The Concept

Over here my sweet meats, your Prince of Justice and Genocide has something to say. I will tell you a tale of cowardice, meat bicycles, and fences. I think I was there when these tales aspired, or maybe not. Hard to say when you are Psycho like I am. Perhaps I made up all of this. I do not know, but what I do know THAT LIFE IS A THREE ACT MEAT PLAY, AND I WILL WIN BEST SUPPORTING ACTOR! Did I mention that I am CRRRAAAAZY? Perhaps I did, hard to say when you are a Psycho like I am. ENOUGH SIRLOIN, LET US GET TO THE PRIME RIB AND CARNAGE OF THIS LITTLE PIGGY... Sorry about him. He, needless to say, is not all there. SHUTUP SHUTUP SHUTUP SHUTUP! No, we have guests and you will behave yourself in its presence. NNNNNNGGHH, get out of my head! Let us begin.

There once lived a little man. He lived his life as a pathetic little code monkey, working for a pathetic little company which operated out of a pathetic little building in a pathetic little town. His boss was one of the richest men in the universe, but the little man was poor as dirt. One day, the he bought a spaceship with the sizable sum of money which he acquired. How he acquired it, I do not remember. Hard to say when you are a Psycho like I am. Perhaps he never acquired the money in the first place. He took his wife and son and flew far away from the corrupt and puissant company, which controlled his EVERY PITIFUL MOVE, AND HELD HIM DOWN LIKE AN INSIGNIFICANT PASTURE COW IN THE SLAUGHTERHOUSE OF LIFE! He fled fleetingly, freeing himself from further fury. The little pawn brought his entire family to a new home. A new home on the untamed badlands of Janus-3.

Upon his arrival he witnessed the most beautiful of translations, as a man burned the flesh off of his bones and fell to the floor as wondrous and purest ash. That never happened. DID I TELL YOU TO SPEAK LITTLE MAN? YOU ARE NOTHING! Within the first second of arrival, the man and his son witnessed the beautiful misery which this planet ran with like river of succulent and syrupy RUM. The man began to live his life on the new planet, purchasing a house on the hill so that he could view the MESMERIZING OCEAN OF BLOOD, AND HE REJOICED AS ITS WAVES CRASHED AGAINST THE EARTH'S FOREHEAD. Thats is NOT why he bought the house. WILL YOU FOREVER PIERCE MY SKULL WITH YOUR NOISE? DO YOU ENJOY WATCHING IT POISON ME WITH ITS PURPLE PSYCHOPATHIC LIQUID?

After some time, the man's company began to chase after him. They could not simply allow such an important person such as him to run away. The man and his son, oblivious to the plight of their foes, continued to live their life in relative peace. They built a little picket fence around their quaint little house, which perfectly protected them from dangers of the bandits which inhabited every little nick and scratch of the planets shiny flesh. Everyday they would go out and ride their freshly polished meat bicycles and sing the joyous tunes of phenomenal musical group, Nickelback. The man's wife had been slaughtered long before that, and as such he lived alone with his son. But one day the company finally caught up with them. They acted swiftly and wonderfully, ruthlessly ripping papa bird from his nest, but allowing the little chick to remain.

They took the man to their floating heart of darkness, which cast a shadow upon the insignificant meat fryer of Janus-3. He was placed in Hell. The man was surrounded with walls of fire and pain. Every day they would purify him in baptisms of blood. They would tell him to keep his chin up, SO THAT THEY COULD SMASH IT WITH A HAMMER. One day, the man snapped like a flesh-stick. His mind was translated, and it began to burn away, leaving only the bones and wondrous and purest ash of what had been. Meanwhile, his son was continuing his life on Janus-3. Old and intelligent enough to fend for himself, he continued to prosper, completely unaware of his own daddy's fate. He eventually applied for a job at a company which had recently arrived on Janus. He began his long career as pitiful code monkey, and everyday little Jacky would come home from work and see his mother standing at the door.

Now that we are done, I WANT TO BUILD A CASTLE OF AGONY, AND THEN TEAR IT DOWN WITH AN AXE IN THE CAROTID ARTERY! After all, all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.