Beyblade Burst Book of Rants

MY STORY DOESN'T HAVE A NAME OR SOLID MC

(Some one please explain what I just wrote, because I honestly have no clue. I started by writing to insult one of my siblings, but sort of ended up with this.)

Once upon a time there was an egotistical maniac. This egotistical maniac was very jealous of people. He hated it when someone got an awesome idea, especially if their idea was similar to his own. This was because even though he had an idea, he would stop using the idea and plan another invention without even remembering the one he had before. He became furious whenever he saw another inventor gain a patent or create a deal with a company for an invention that was nearly identical to the one he had. This made him an object of ridicule, disgust, and hatred among all scientists and inventors. After all, he couldn't exactly prove that it was his idea, could he? And besides, if it was his idea, then why didn't he follow through with it? The inventor never had a good answer. He always seemed like a bandwagon rider and just an overall envious person.

This continued for some time, but the scientist was running low on funds. The S.C.O.I.A.S (Social Collaboration Of Inventors And Scientist) were threatening to destroy his membership if he didn't create a worthwhile invention in two months. This was obviously distressing for him, and he was scanning all of his blueprints, searching for anything of interest. Most of his greatest ideas were patented by someone else, and some were only created to give him more time to create something else. So he sat down at his desk and started to think. He sat there for hours, thinking and thinking and thinking. He spent two days sitting there before he stood up with a jolt and cried out, "Eureka, I have an idea!"

He ran to the chalkboard and start writing, muttering under his breath all the while. Soon the entirety of the chalkboard was covered in mathematical equations. He started running to his Super-Mega-Deluxe-One-of-a-kind-Limited-Edition-Ultra-Powered-Neverdying-Desktop100. He tripped over a stray beaker and after fixing the table decided to continue at a brisk walk. Turning on the Desktop100 he felt a rush of adrenaline in his veins. It was the feeling of a breakthrough, and he knew then and there that this was going to be his Microsoft. This was going to be his Amazon. His Apple. Ford. Google. This was his billion dollar idea, and once this was on the markets he'd never be called an envious egotistical maniac ever again.

He didn't leave his room for nearly two weeks. He only left to eat and go to the bathroom. His neighbours were starting to get concerned. "Do you think we should call an ambulance?" "Nah, that man right there, he needs an entire hospital! Ha!"

When he finally came out, his beard had reached his knees, his clothes were caked in so much grime that it was impossible to tell what colour they had originally been. The few strands of hair he had were matted and covered with dandruff. But none of that mattered to him. His grin split his face, and he cackled with glee. "Well, we'll see if those rotten no-good-monkey-faced-wrench-banging scumbags at the S.C.O.I.A.S will be laughing now!" He walked to the bathroom, still roaring with laughter.

On the other side of town was a scientist faced with the exact same problem. She had been given one month to find out something no one else had before. If not, she would be kicked out of S.C.O.I.A.S with her funding cut. Now this young girl was the youngest scientist accepted into the collaboration ever, and there were high expectations from most. Others would simply scoff at her discoveries and scorn her hypotheses, simply because they were envious of her ingenuity. So here she was, on the verge of losing her funding and reputation about to be torn apart by the wolves of the S.C.O.I.A.S gritting her teeth in frustration, she tossed another scrunched up pared into the overflowing waste bin at her feet. She sighed, determined not to give up, yet unwilling to continue on. "Argh!" She cried. "I am so dead." She went to pick up the pen she threw across the room, and tripped over the bin. Wincing, she sat back on her knees, pushing her glasses back up on her nose. She looked at the mess around her and sighed again. How was she ever going to meet the deadline? The girl stood up and frowned, rubbing her face. When she bent down to start cleaning up she froze. Wait, was that a, yes it was! And over here to... and here! She started to separate the pile of writing, unwrinkling as she went along. She spent the entire night wading through the papers.