Pencils

This is complete nonsense. Kinda about a pencil.

Before we start, I think it's only fair to warn you that this article contains scenes which may offend. Some parts may make you want to glue bread to your body. There's one bit that could cause you to spin round and print icons on your cat. Honestly, this is pretty hardcore.

So. Picture a backlit, sullen morning in mid yester-year. Traffic streams through haughty fog in vibrant aisles of anonymous pride. And for every flake of wit that infests our firm fair country, a sodden hand brings forth a spiteful peck at the next man down.

I was writing at the time, when suddenly a word confused me so hard it caused me to reach for the dictionary with such wanton vigour that I almost forgot to place my pencil in the attractive wooden pencil holder that adorned my desk.

After finding my dictionary had no pages, I was about to return to work when a thought came to me: What if I had just placed the pencil down on the desk? It was an awful thought, I knew, black and slippery and oozing a pungent foreign goo. It casually bent an iron bar (without even thinking about it) and winked at me evilly.

I found it hard to sleep that night, and while I tried to pretend it was because my room had no walls and my bed was stuffed with jagged hexagons, it was really because I kept thinking about pencils. They span and spat and jockeyed for a farce, and they clamored the whole night through with a pestilent pitiless fortitude. If gods could fry and mountains could sizzle in the night, you'd hear about it.

The next morning I did everything I could to stall my journey to school. I had in excess of five breakfasts and instead of just waving friends goodbye, I attached them to elastic cords and invited passing bums to place bets. But eventually I had to go, and go I did, and the bus was not kind.

Halfway there I stopped to greet a pelican when I decided this was silly. I was going to go straight to school and I was going to storm in there with a lot and a thunder and a steadfast right and a hella-cool, and I was going to march up to that pencil and give it what for. And I wasn't just going to put it down, oh no. I was going to drop it, right on the floor.

Not even Jesus himself could stop me now, even if he built seven brick walls and sprayed them with smelly paste. Neither hell nor horseback nor fifty one of your best men could break forth from a trap and spring their might and rally the hordes of ages on. You'd better believe it.

And I got there, and I grabbed the pencil, and I have to say I hesitated some. I mean, it's easy when you're doing it in your head, and nobody's watching, but here I was. This was no head. And if I didn't do this soon I'd come to my senses and lose my chance. So, trying desperately to ignore the woeful predictions my mind was spitting at me, I did it. I let go of the pencil.

 

And do you know what happened next?

The WHOLE FLOOR turned to LASERS and this angry great STEAMING ROBOT steamed up out of nowhere, and he had a knife for a mouth and a meat processing plant for a butt and everywhere he looked he fired pirates out of his eyes, and all the people in the room started screaming and a few mutated and this one guy just dropped the book he was holding and grew ten extra heads right there and ate his girlfriend JUST FOR FUN and the tutor ran in but as soon as he stepped on the floor (which was still made of lasers, if you're keeping count) a STEAM ENGINE burst out of his chest and ran over like 6 people and then the whole building fell down and this kid saw and went to take a picture on his phone but when he pressed the button the phone shot a bowling ball in his face and both his legs came off and started running around the town square kicking people in the shins and screaming.

It was awful

Reviews

[TBPopper]

Uh...

There must be... some profound writing style buried beneath all of this that I'm just not seeing? Surely it isn't just... nonsense? And not in the good nonsense 'snicker-snack' kind of way.