A collection of short stories centering around a kid named Sammy and a few of his friends, not so good friends, and straight up enemies. It's 50% simple vibes, and 50% teenage angst.
I didn't know what I was doing when I wrote this, and a lot of the...
After Carl's run in with Sammy (Chapter 1: Creepy Carl and Sad Sammy) He was never the same; a child hating, face paint loving, cauliflower eating monster had been awakened inside of him. He had always been a little crazy, but now he was off the metaphorical tracks. It did not take long for him to get arrested for his antics, and thus started a new chapter in his life: Prison.
His first day in the slammer was very disorienting... Or rather very orienting, because there were at least seven brutal orientation ceremonies, in which he ended up with at least twenty tattoos, many in places he hadn't even previously known existed.
But life was not all violence and permanent artwork declaring his love for his mother displayed upon his chest. No, there were things far, far worse. In all of the prison complex there was one thing missing. It almost killed Carl's clownish heart when he realized that there was no face paint ANYWHERE! His face felt bland, normal, insignificant. How lovely the tonal quality of his face would be if he could only decorate it in the garish fashion to which he was accustomed. But alas, that was not the case.
So it was with a saddened and unpainted heart that he headed to the cafeteria for lunch, anticipating a big bowl of cauliflower stew. But much to his furthered disappointment in life, when he entered the mess hall he was greeted by a large sign on the wall:
MENU:
Something that began as rat meatloaf but then we threw all of the other leftovers into it EXCEPT THE CAULIFLOWER so it's kinda just schlop now. But there is definitely NO CAULIFLOWER in this meal.
Carl shed many manly tears of sadness.
Later as he lay upon his thin mattress listening to his bunk-mate's snores (Who was sentenced to life for blowing up 150 circus clowns by putting a bomb in their Mini Cooper. A fact he was very proud of.) He thought of ways to fix his situation. No face paint and no cauliflower made Carl a depressed dude.
Then he had a great idea! There might not be any face paint in prison, but there was tons of ink. What if he got his make up tattooed onto his face!?!?! This also had the perk that no one would recognize him anymore and he could escape to freedom!! and cauliflower!!!
The next morning he wasted no time in finding a willing tattoo artist to do the job. Then the other inmates held a lovely farewell party and threw him into a garbage truck as it left the compound.
Carl was free! ready to terrorize children and eat cauliflower forever!
The End
(for now)
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