The Pointless Pursuits of a Particularly Preposterous Person

 

In a faraway land atop a dead, decomposing giant Blue Whale, there sat a little pink cottage. In this cottage there lived a strange, demented creature by name of Argyllmylsvouth. It was humanoid but that was pretty much the only normal thing about this bizarre, genderless specimen. We’ll call him male for now and introduce a female character later so that I don’t get sued for being a sexist cow. He had greasy, greyish-green skin, a morbid protruding belly, and long, spindly fingers at the bottom of its long, spindly arms. He had only three toes on each foot and only one eye, and rotten yellow teeth, which were pointed like filthy daggers.

             Another bizarre and rather tragic thing about Argyllmylsvouth was that he had a terrible addiction to cocaine, and also a rather strange obsession with melons, the reasons to which are unknown. Some say he kept a large collection of melons in the dingy basement of his little pink cottage and drew faces on them. This, however, is not what this story is about; this story focuses more on the cocaine side of things. I warn you now; it’s not going to be pleasant.

            Argyllmylsvouth was skint. There was not a single penny left inside the jam jar above the kitchen cupboard, which he set aside for loose change. He had been noticing a rapid drop in funds ever since he had been fired from his job at the day-care center just around the corner from his home. For some reason, employees weren’t allowed to hit the children, not that he did of course; Argyllmylsvouth preferred to ingest the little buggers and let his stomach acids do the work. 

            One day, when eating a lovely breakfast of cheerios and off milk, Argyllmylsvouth had the sudden urge to launch his cereal bowl across the kitchen, so he did.

“Gaargh!!” Argyllmylsvouth roared as the bowl smashed against the far wall, sending bits of china, cereal and cheesy chunks flying all over the place, making the house even ranker than it already was.

“What on the top of a great big decomposing fish is going on?” he asked himself, but he already knew the answer. He was suffering from cocaine deprivation. This is a nasty, tantrum-inside-your-head side effect from not getting enough crack in your system after a period of time. Of course, Argyllmylsvouth hadn’t got enough crack in his system for a very long time as he hadn’t got the money to buy any from that bloke down the pub.

            Waddling over to his office room, which resembled more of a landfill, Argyllmylsvouth grabbed a crayon from a pot on the desk half submerged in crap and devised a cunning plan. In the center of a piece of paper, he drew a big bubble, and inside that bubble he drew a rather shoddy picture of his millionaire cousin, Kevin the Bear. Kevin worked in accountancy, which had made him an extremely depressed insomniac of a bear, but a very rich bear too. Argyllmylsvouth’s plan was simple- he would invite his cousin over for dinner, brutally murder him after the entrees and steal all of his money. In his mind’s eye, his plan was fool proof, but as you can see it was a pretty pathetic plan. It didn’t even resemble a plan; it was more like a third grader’s attempt at a self-portrait. All the same, Argyllmylsvouth decided to go along with it anyway.

            The next day, Kevin the Bear arrived just on time at the little pink cottage for dinner. Punctuality was one of his strong points being an accountant, and so was writing suicide letters for attempts he could never really follow through.

“Come on in, cousin.” Argyllmylsvouth greeted innocently as he let Kevin in.

“Why thank you, Argyll, and watch the suit- it’s Italian.” Kevin said as Argyllmylsvouth brushed past him to get back to the kitchen.

“Take a seat, Kevin,” he said, “The starter is on the table.”

“Ah, excellent.” Kevin replied, doing as he was told. Argyllmylsvouth chuckled to himself- everything was going swimmingly. Although Argyllmylsvouth couldn’t swim because he was a fat slob.