Question the Sky

 Fuck opened his eyes, and stared at the fuzzy green troll-like thing looming above him.

 “Hey, bro,” he said.
 Truth be told, this wasn’t the first time Fuck had woken up to see a fuzzy green troll standing above him. Fuck was just thankful that this time the troll didn’t have his giant dick flopping about. Fuck leaned up and squinted. Or indeed any dick. Fuck was now curious.
 “Hey, troll dude, show me your piece,” he said, his eyes wide.
 The greenish troll thing retreated from Fuck, shivering slightly in fear. “I… I beg your pardon, stranger?” said the troll. He had a high-pitched, squeaky voice. Fuck couldn’t help but think of The Wizard of Oz, and he got a little aroused. But that was normal for him.
 Fuck got up from the ground and dusted off, staring intently at the troll’s crotch. “Mr. Troll, please don’t take this the wrong way, but I need to see your dick. It’s a matter of life and death. Life and dick, if you will.” Fuck started to slowly walk towards the troll, hands held out in the same way used to calm animals shortly before they maul you. Or grope invisible boobies.

 As the troll wanted neither of these things, especially not from this strange man, he began to back up and whimper.

 At this point Jeff blearily woke up, and was horrified to find that his nightmare of Fuck having his way with a troll was coming true.

 “Fuck!” he yelled, pushing himself up off the ground. “What in the hell are you doing?”

 Fuck glanced at Jeff, standing there, looking incredulous, and then back at the troll, who Fuck had pinned to the ground, weeping as Fuck groped his crotch. Fuck looked back at Jeff. “It’s not what it looks like.”

 “Really?” asked Jeff. “Because it looks like you’re trying to whip out that small furry troll’s dick.”

 Fuck blinked. “Then it’s exactly what it looks like.”

 Jeff stomped his foot in frustration. “Damn it, Fuck,” he said, “every time we meet some otherworldly creature you ask to see its dick.”

 Fuck scoffed. “Well EXCUUUUSE me for being a scientist, Jeff,” said Fuck. “Besides, I’ve never seen a troll’s dick before.” Fuck paused. “Not THIS troll’s dick, at least.”

 Jeff raised an eyebrow. “When have you ever seen a troll’s dick, let alone a SINGLE troll?”

 Fuck stood up, unhanding the little green troll, who squealed and then scampered behind a nearby tree. “Jeff,” said Fuck, putting his hands on his friend’s shoulders, “I don’t know if you know this about me, but I do a lot of drugs.”

 “Well of course I—“

 “A LOT of drugs, Jeff. There is no medical reason for me still being alive.”

 “I’m sure that’s a bit of an exaggeration.”

 “Jeff, I may be the Highlander.”

 Jeff sighed, and had an internal celebration, as this was his first sigh to occur in an alternate dimension. With that, Jeff remembered what had happened, and was suddenly hit with the realization that he was trapped in another world, a world apparently inhabited by dickless green trolls.

 Jeff looked around, the panic beginning to set in. “Fuck,” he murmured, his breathing quickening, “I think we may have bigger problems than whether or not you’re an immortal Scotsman with a French accent.”

 Fuck clapped his hands to the top of his head, grabbing handfuls of his hair in fright. “Holy shit, you’re right!” he exclaimed. “I almost let my troll get away!” With that, Fuck turned toward the tree that the troll had fled to, and ran toward it yelling “REVEAL THY PELVIC PORK, FIEND!”

 As Fuck engaged in activities better left unspoken (i.e. trollish dick searching), Jeff gave the world around him a good look and found it, while existentially horrifying, to be quite beautiful.

 The sky was a clear blue, the only clouds acting as scenic garnish rather than dark harbingers of storms, or dreary assholes who just fucking ruin your day. The grass was the dark green of a post-thunderstorm, and the prairie they found themselves in was rife with the sounds of life, all of it congregating around the lone hill topped with a great big single tree. The picturesque view was somewhat ruined by Fuck molesting a small green inhabitant.

 Most notable of all though, was the road which started at the base of the hill. From the bottom of the hill, a great rainbow ran along the ground stretching towards the mountains in the east. Upon closer inspection, the rainbow road revealed no sign of being man-made, literally seeming as if someone had simply pulled a rainbow from the sky and laid it flat on the ground. The overall effect of it was simply gorgeous, albeit just a wee bit gay, rainbow road and all that. But even if it was, it was a beautiful gay, like Neil Patrick Harris.

 Jeff shook his head. There’d be time enough to observe his immediate surroundings, trapped forever as they were in some sort of beautiful interdimensional prison. Meanwhile there was a tiny green native being groped by his best friend. Jeff sighed. It was like Trinidad all over again.

 Jeff marched up the small hill to the tree under which Fuck was doing some innocence-stealing. As he walked, he noticed the ground had a strange texture to it, as if the grass were somewhat… crispy, he supposed. It almost sounded like he was walking through a light, icy snow. Jeff bent down and plucked a single blade of grass from the ground, tuning out the cries for help from the little green fellow. Holding the blade up to his nose, Jeff gave it a whiff and found he liked the smell. Figuring that being trapped in another world was pretty high on the list of “How to get completely fucked,” Jeff figured there was no harm in experimenting a little, and popped the blade of grass into his mouth.

 To his surprise, it was delicious. Like spun sugar, with just a hint of green food coloring. Jeff supposed they were theoretically in Candyland, and he really shouldn’t be that surprised. But still. Edible grass. That’s some Willy Wonka-ass shit, right there. But without the little people with green hair.
 The scream of a traumatized troll echoed through the air. Okay, maybe so.

 Jeff got up and shouted “Fuck!”

 Fuck paused in his activities and looked up at Jeff. “Were you calling my name or was that a general expression of frustration with our current situation?” he asked.

 Jeff thought for a moment. “A little of both, actually.” He shook his head. “Fuck, let go of the troll.”

 Fuck made the face traditionally made when a small child goes “But mooooooooom,” before mom threatens to call dad in and holy hell God forbid she do that.

 “But Jeff,” Fuck whined.

 Jeff shook his finger. “Fuck, we’ve been here all of five minutes and already you’re attempting to get to third base with one of the locals,” Jeff paused in thought. “Plus this bit has been going on for nearly three pages, it’s not only old, it’s kinda creepy.”

 Fuck stood up and wiped his hands on his jeans, shaking free handfuls of green fur. “Yeah, you’re probably right,” he admitted. He held his hand out to the troll on the ground, which flinched. “No hard feelings, trolly? Curiosity killed the cat, and all that. Or in my case, got me locked up for assault. Several times. Stupid midgets and their mysterious genitals.”

 The troll must have been amazingly confused, and he showed it. He timidly took Fuck’s hand and pulled himself up from the ground. “I accept your apology, stranger,” he said in his ludicrously squeaky voice. Jeff put a hand on Fuck’s shoulder, mouthing “No” as Fuck started twitching. God damn his Wizard of Oz fetish. First he’s just watching the movie naked, next thing you know you’re opening the door to his room to find him strangling himself with black-and-white stockings while he wears ruby slippers. Jeff sighed.

 “Sorry about all that,” said Jeff. “My friend, Fuck, is a little… odd. We’re visitors here, and we were wondering if you could help us out. Where are we, exactly?”

 The troll raised a confused eyebrow. “Well, good sir,” he said, “you’re in Candyland!”

 Fuck stared intently at the troll. “Then you must be… Plumpy,” he murmured.

 Both the troll (heretofore known as ‘Plumpy’) and Jeff looked at Fuck in surprise.

 “How… did you know my name, sir?” asked Plumpy.

 Fuck shrugged. “Everyone remembers Plumpy,” he said. “The dude who owned the plum tree? If you picked his card you had to go all the way back to the beginning?”

 Jeff shuddered. “That fucking plum card…”

 “Yeah!” said Fuck. “First time they sent you away was right after you picked the plum card.”

 Jeff twitched, repressed memories coming to the surface. “That… fucking… Plumpy…”

 As Jeff broke down and started twitching and mumbling, Fuck took the initiative to explain themselves to Plumpy. “See,” he began, “we’re not from around here. Where we’re from… uhhhh… well Candyland is…” Fuck paused. It was rare that Fuck actually sat down and thought something through, and as such, he was a little rusty at translating his thoughts into words.

 So when Fuck meant to say “Where we’re from, Candyland is a board game that children play, and even I played it. In fact, I’m actually kind of good at Candyland. One could call me the champion,” what he ACTUALLY said was—
 “I AM THE CHAMPION OF CANDYLAND.” Yelled, in fact.

 Plumpy gasped and flung himself backwards, clutching his heart. “You are the Champion? The Chosen One?!”

 At this point, Fuck thought he should clarify himself. So instead he said “Yes. Yes I am.”

 Jeff snapped out of his traumatized flashbacks. “Wait, what?” he said.

 Plumpy grinned and raised his arms up to the sky, cheering. “At last! The Champion has arrived! Candyland shall be saved!” Plumpy started running around, whooping and cheering, the purple amulet he wore bouncing off of his chest.

 Jeff glared at Fuck. “What in the hell did you just do,” he whispered as Plumpy ran around the tree, rejoicing.

 Fuck thought for a moment. “I’m pretty sure I just said I’m the Chosen One or something. Then the little green dude started running around. Then I was hungry. Do we have any bologna?”

 Plumpy paused and gave Fuck an embarrassed look. “Oh no, is the Champion hungry? My apologies, Champion! Please, have a ginger plum!”

 Jeff and Fuck looked at each other. “What the fuck’s a ginger plum?” asked Jeff.

 “Why, THIS is a ginger plum!” said an old and creaky voice that seemingly came from nowhere, making both Jeff and Fuck jump.

 The tree around which the trio had congregated had suddenly sprouted a face, and had apparently begun talking to them. Jeff vaguely wondered if he had gotten a contact high from standing near Fuck. Fuck vaguely wondered why he couldn’t hear his shoes talking to him anymore.

 The tree’s face smiled at the two, then shook its branches so hard that little purple fruits began to rain down on top of Jeff and Fuck. Plumpy swooped down and picked up one of the small fruits, then bit into it hungrily, moaning in rapture. The whole effect was rather strange and suggestive.

 Fuck bent down and picked up a ginger plum. “Well it IS Candyland,” he said. “It’ll hardly be inedible.”

 Jeff shrugged and took the fruit. “I suppose you’re right.” He sniffed the fruit and gained nothing from it. “Cheers,” he said, then took a bite. Fuck followed suit.

 And then the two immediately began spitting out the fruit as quickly as they could, gagging.

 “OH SWEET CHRIST,” said Jeff, spitting. “IT’S SO DAMN SUGARY.”

 “IT’S LIKE WILFORD BRIMLEY CAME IN MY MOUTH,” moaned Fuck.

 Jeff paused in wiping off his tongue on his sleeve to glance at Fuck. “Wilford Brimley?”

 “Yeah,” said Fuck, coughing. Fuck frowned, bloated out his cheeks, glared, and said in a Southern –accented monotone, “DIABEETUS.”

 Jeff cringed. “So, the joke is that because he has diabetes, his jizz would be overly sweet or something?”

 “Yeah, or I’d just throw up from the experience regardless. I mean, imagine that fat old fuck popping one off in your mouth. Enjoy your nightmares, dude.”

 “Thanks.”

 “It’s because I care.”

 “Mama Gingertree,” exclaimed Plumpy, “your fruits are so juicy and delicious!”

 “Why thank you, child,” said the tree, presumably Mama Gingertree. “It’s because I make them with extra care and love, just for you, Plumpy.”

 “Excuse me,” interrupted Jeff, loudly. “I don’t mean to interrupt your plum love fest, but would someone kindly explain this ‘Chosen One’ business?”

 Both Mama Gingertree and Plumpy gasped. “Why child,” said the tree, have you not heard the legend of the Champion of Candyland?”

 “Obviously not,” said Jeff.

 “OH MY FUCKING GOD I LOVE STORYTIME!” shouted Fuck, plopping down on the ground and crossing his legs.

 “And quite a story it is,” said Plumpy, his voice serious. “Legend tells us that at a time of great strife and terror for Candyland, a Champion and his compatriot would come from another world to defeat a great evil, find the lost Candy King, and guide Candyland into an era of peace and prosperity!”

 Jeff said “So it does make mention of me, then? The ‘compatriot?’”

 Plumpy shrugged. “Yes I suppose so.”

 “So I am also a chosen one.”

 Mama Gingertree interjected “Really more of a ‘slightly less chosen one.’”

 Jeff stabbed a finger at the tree. “You shut your whore mouth! Who are you, even?”

 “Mama Gingertree,” said Fuck. “They added her in the new addition, because people were always getting pissed at Plumpy. Thought a grandmotherly type might lessen their anger.”

 “WELL IT’S CLEARLY NOT FUCKING WORKING. HOW DARE THEY REPLACE PLUMPY.”

 “But I thought you hated Plumpy?”

 “FUCKING. PLUMPY.” And then we lost Jeff again.

 “Anyway,” said Fuck. “What’s the problem I need to go and… Champion?”

 Plumpy looked at Mama Gingertree. “Eh, there isn’t one, really.”

 Jeff snapped to attention. “Say what.”

 “Yeah…” mumbled Plumpy. “There isn’t really a great evil… the Candy King’s not lost, either…”

 Fuck chimed in with “And the general state of Candyland?”

 “Peaceful and prosperous.”

 “Riiiiiiight, then,” said Jeff. “We’ll just be on our way…”

 “Well hang on,” said Fuck, grabbing Jeff by the shoulder. “What about Lord Licorice?”

 Plumpy hissed, surprising the group. “Oh, HIM.”

 “Who’s ‘him?’” asked Jeff.

 “Lord Licorice,” said Mama Gingertree, her branches swaying in anger, “is the only trace of evil in the whole of Candyland. Fortunately for us, he keeps to himself.”

 “’Lord Licorice,’” said Jeff, testing the phrase. “And what’s he do that’s so bad?”

 Fuck glared at Jeff, and said in a very serious, dark tone, “He wants to turn everything into licorice.”

 A hush came over the group, Fuck, Plumpy, and Mama Gingertree in a shocked silence.

 “Well that’s stupid,” said Jeff. “Besides, I like licorice.”

 As Jeff said this, a small bird flew over the group, carrying a banner that read “EPIC FORESHADOWING.” No one noticed.

 “And anyways,” said Jeff, carrying on past the disgusted faces of the group, “sounds like he doesn’t get up to much.”

 “Well, not really,” admitted Plumpy.

 “So let me about sum this up,” said Jeff. “You expect Fuck and I—“

 “Mostly Fuck,” interrupted Plumpy.

 “—to go on a journey to find the Candy King, who isn’t even lost, and fight a totally flaccid villain whose only goal is to make things into licorice, when all we really want to do is get the hell out of here. Is that about it?”

 “Pretty much,” said both Mama Gingertree and Plumpy.

 Jeff paused and looked around at the rest of the group. “Yeah, fuck that,” and with that he stormed away.

 “JeffJeffJeffJeff!” said Fuck, catching up with him. “Come on, man, we’re CHOSEN, alright? Let’s go on this little quest, it’s not like we’ve got anything better to do.”

 “Fuck!” shouted Jeff. “We are trapped in some sort of alternate reality contained within a fucking BOARD GAME. Neither of us knows how to get back, and if we stay for more than a week, we’ll probably get diabetes just trying to feed ourselves! And unless there happens to be an insulin river running through downtown Candy Kingdom, I think we’d be fucked.”

 “Jeff, think about it,” said Fuck. “The Candy King’s the lord of an entire planet, possibly an entire dimension. Do you really think he won’t know how to get the hell out of here?”

 Jeff thought for a moment. “So… we should go on this quest, and we can get out of here?”

 Fuck shrugged. “It makes about as much sense as anything else that’s happened today.”

 “You’ve a point, there,” said Jeff. He nodded, then turned and shouted towards Mama Gingertree and Plumpy. “Alright, citizens of Candyland! We’ll go on this quest of yours, we’ll save the kingdom, and we’ll become the heroes of this twisted fucking place!”

 “Also I’m going to shag Queen Frostine!” shouted Fuck.

 Neither Plumpy nor Mama Gingertree heard this last part, as both were too busy cheering “The Champion has come! The Champion has come!”

 “Once I meet Queen Frostine, I’ll ‘come,’ I assure you,” murmured Fuck.

 “You are going to get us both fucking killed. By children’s characters,” said Jeff.

 “Worth it.”

 Plumpy bounced up to the duo. “The denizens of the Ginger Plum Tree wish you luck on your quest, Chosen One. And… Slightly Less Chosen One. As a token of our hope and gratitude, I gift you this magical amulet.” Plumpy lifted the purple amulet from around his neck, and placed it on Jeff’s bowed head.

 Jeff asked “What’s it do?”

 “Nothing,” said Plumpy, “but it is a symbol of hope from the citizens of Candyland. Long ago I was given this amulet by a lord of Candyland, to be given to the Chosen One should he make his appearance.”

 Fuck licked the amulet. “Ooh, grape!” he exclaimed.

 “I was also told that I should not under any circumstances allow the Champion to eat the amulet.”

 Fuck looked downcast.

 “Well,” said Jeff, “I guess we should head out.”

 “Not just yet, child,” said Mama Gingertree. “On the road of your quest, you will encounter many trials. Your next stop will be the Peppermint Woods. On your way to this destination, my children will escort you.”

 Fuck said “Oh sweet Jesus, you’re giving us plums to guide us.”

 As he said this, a crowd of tiny gingerbread people (because we’re fucking politically correct ‘round here) rushed out from behind Mama Gingertree, and, giggling and cheering, ran towards Jeff and Fuck.

 As the two stared down at the horde of cheering and laughing gingerbread children, Jeff said “Well this trip’s just going to fucking fly by.”

 “Well,” said Fuck, “which way to the Peppermint Forest, gingerbitches?”

 “Follow the rainbow road!” the gingerbread horde collectively yelled.

 Jeff and fuck eyed the glowing, colorful road in front of them. “Well that was simple,” said Jeff. “I guess we don’t really need the gingerbitches anymore.”

“Hey, we might get hungry on the way,” said Fuck. “Now let’s get out of here, the narrative’s getting stale.”

 And with that, Jeff and Fuck set out on a quest that would change their lives forever, completely oblivious to the dark presence watching them through the amulet around Fuck’s neck.

[So everyone knows, this is the first part of a story I threw together while on cough medicine at about 4 AM. I can’t remember most of what I wrote, and after I get some rest, and hopefully come down off the various medicines that are attempting to fix my shitty body, I’m terrified to see what I wrote. This will never be published because I would be sued by about fifty different companies, but I hope you enjoy it. Part 2 when I get around to it. Enjoy.]

…

 It was 3 AM when Jeff got a call from Fuck.
 Nothing was inherently strange about this, at least until Jeff answered the phone.
 He reached out to the phone on his nightstand and picked it up, then grumbled “‘Lo?” into the phone.
 ”JEFF!” screamed a voice from the other side of the phone, presumably Fuck, in fact definitely Fuck, or an impressionist who sounded quite a bit like Fuck. Which would in turn raise the question of why someone would spend months, perhaps years of their life trying to perfect the vocal imitation of some guy from Massachusetts with a strange name.

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When you wake up in the middle of the night and aren’t quite sure what’s a dream, and what’s real, so then you start humping the person next to you like there’s no tomorrow. But then they’re still pretty much asleep so you come out to the computer to be sad with yourself.

Time machine shows up on your doorstep. First thing you do—

Go back in time and punch Oscar Wilde in the face for being such a douchebag.

ourhorsesvomitblood:

sirzacktogo:

Why is your blog so quality?

bby i wuz born dis way

She means “Wuh-hay.”

(via thewrithingsouth)

If I was black, I’d let people be as racist and offensive as they wanted. I’d just shrug and say “My dick is still gigantic.” And that would be that.