Off Topic: The Flood
This topic has moved here: Subject: Tasty big mac's go well with dank NYC summer.
  • Subject: Tasty big mac's go well with dank NYC summer.
Subject: Tasty big mac's go well with dank NYC summer.
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  • last post: 01.01.0001 12:00 AM PDT

Yeah, I'm spamming... sheesh. I'll give you some spam...

With an uncontrollable urge to either laugh or vomit, -blam!- young Benjamin strode uneasily down the cracked pavement before him. It seemed as though his very soul splintered as he passed by each unique lasceration in the road before him. Was it hours? Or merely seconds that he had been thinking about this? An overwhelming scent of sun-baked water-soaked asphalt suddenly grasped his fragmented attention. A familiar smell, how could it contain so much meaning? Thousands of memories tore through his imagination, leaving fresh blood on his emotional battlefield. The wind picked up, the distant laughter of children reverberated in his hollow skull. Benjamin was stupified, completely possesed by this mystical experience. The pounding rhythm of his steel toe boots against the almost-dry asphalt came in perfect sync with his elevated heart rate; he must be walking abnormally fast, and began to slow his pace. The numerous individuals occupying the space around him seemed to have metamorphosized into nightmarish creatures from the most distant antipodes of the human imagination. Although frightening, he felt comforted by the fact that since he could not see himself, he was still sure he had not been affected by these mutations. It must be foggy outside, as he began to notice faint halo's around the multitude of street lamps and car headlights. It began to make sense to him all of a sudden, It had been raining earlier, hours must have dissapeared, the sun had baked him, and now, it was getting dark outside. Where the hell was he anyway, everything was completely alien to him now, even the awnings were plastered with characters of a different language. A tap on his shoulder, or maybe he had to cough, he wasn't sure, so he sat down next to heap of trash radiating a familiar aroma, neither attractive nor offensive. A dog began barking somewhere, and it was at that moment that a beam of light, reflected off a chrome hubcap of some passing vehicle, illuminated a small section of a square of sidewalk he had been staring at for god-knows-how-long. Time froze as he studied the small section of sidewalk, looked deep within it, saw every single molecule vibrating in perfect harmony with it's neighbors. Within the molecule, the atoms themselves were also vibrating, each with it's own unique frequency. It all began to make sense to him, even in this senseless state of consciousness. A penny dropped directly in front of him, his body reacted before his mind could finish, before he realized it, he was running.

A child and his mother strode slowly through the intersection of 117th street and 2nd avenue. A police car accelerated past them, sirens ablaze, as the mother cursed at the air. The child, visibly upset kicked a battery adjacent to his foot. The battery skidded accross the now-dry asphalt, ricocheted off a crumpled soda can, and entered the gutter, where it bounced off the cobblestone sewer wall and almost directly onto a rat, feasting on a half eated big mac. The rat, a prisoner of instinct, scurried off to belay it's attacker. The motion of it's skinny little legs as it swum accross the channel of filth created a small eddy in the fecal sludge. At precisely the right moment, the eddy disturbed a clump of detritus at the bottom of the sewer, releasing a large bubble of methane gas into the surrounding environment. At that moment, several blocks away, a derilect dropped a still-lit Philly into the gutter. As the glowing ember made contact with a small section of petrified newspaper, stuck to the wall of the sewer, a shower of sparks made contact with the rapidly expanding plume of methane gas.

Benjamin was getting tired of running, so he entered a convienence store, and timidly purchased a pack of cigarettes. He took a seat on the curb outside to enjoy his addiction. As he put the lit match to his tobacco stick, the methane in the sewer directly below him was ignited by the shower of sparks from the dropped cigar. To Benjamin's surprise, the flow of burnt tobacco into his mouth was complimented by 1000 psi of superhot burnt methane from the sewer grate directly beneath his gluteus.

Moral of the story, don't do drugs.

  • 07.30.2004 12:50 PM PDT