Wednesday, December 17, 2008

My Battle With Roy Masters



I am sitting on my couch on a weekend night, as I usually do to try and save money -- feebly, I might add -- because I am mulling over going to 7-11. I could easily just fall asleep, and I'm feeling a force compelling me to not go. Yet I'm realizing I must fight this force with another greener force.

My brother is describing to me the extraordinary and remarkable powers of a Mr. Roy Masters. He's saying crazy things, like this man is actually 2432 years old. That he has the strength of 10 men. That his powers of telekinesis are beyond my wildest comprehensions. He's telling me that Roy Masters has the ability to remotely kill a person without so much as leaving a cause of death.

An ancient protectorate of the secrets of the universe, Roy Masters can travel through time, replace his victim's consciousness with his own, sees all and knows all. My brother is whispering to me that Roy Masters knows about my plans to go to 7-11, and that he is not pleased.

"I'm going to 7-11," I'm proclaiming. "And not even Roy Masters can stop me!"

"Don't you say that!" My brother is shouting. "Don't you dare say that! Have you gone completely mad?!"

Roy will never find me, I'm thinking to myself as I hop over the hut thatch gate and into the nearest rickshaw heading with the flow of traffic. There's a lot of rickshaws out tonight. Then all of the sudden its hitting me. This indescribable pain in my brain is making its way down to my hypothalamus, severely disregulating my glandular activity.

I'm screaming out in agony, "Damn you Roy!" to my only audience of the rickshaw boy, who is staring back at my terrified maw with a horror of his own. My face is beginning to melt from the acidity of concentrated hormones secreting out through the pores, and I may have permanent disfigurement across much of my face but I'll be damned if I didn't make it to 7-11 and buy me a 32-oz Slurpee and white cheddar cheese popcorn.

That's right Roy, I beat you! You thought you could stop me but you FAILED! I know you can hear me, and I beat you!




Further reading

1 comment:

Huge Larry said...

He should have kept his birth name of Reuben Obermeister.

Roy Masters sounds awesome, but not as awesome as Reuben Obermeister.