I speak like 4 languages, including English. But I still like talking like a retard, even in my native language, when I know better.

This MFer knows.

Why is shit grammar so fun?  Because this is the internet, ruled by cats who would probably make Webster turn in his grave.  But if you are one of the lowlifes like myself who has never read his book (the dictionary) all the way from A to Z (Most people lose interest around Czar) you probably find this shit funny as hell.

Maybe it's just because "sharded barf" sounds like something I would use to describe some of my mother's cooking.

Now you might be saying "I don't do that, I like to be proper, here on the internet, I speak the Queen's English."  Well that's just jolly now, isn't it.  But you know if the Queen ever started using the internet, she would instantly revert to using "lol."

I think without the internet I would talk better.  I would actually have to try and laugh, and actually make it audible (because who really lols when they lol.)  I would probably use "oh my god" less, just because I wouldn't have a convenient abbreviation.  I might start using something like "oh my science" or "oh my logical reasoning."

Some people are happier than others. People who are always sad are called "depressed" and are prescribed drugs. People who constantly switch between happy and sad are called "bipolar" and are also prescribed drugs. People who are constantly happy though, they become murderers and are sent to prison...



And of course, since TF2 is now free, here's a video of it.

Add me on Steam (Nenth) if you feel like playing with me!

Since my last few posts were pretty much "wall of text" style, I thought I'd post some wallpapers, since I haven't done so in like forever. I haven't even gone on /w/ or /wg/, so these are some new ones I've got for you, fresh of the internets.

I don't really like text on my wallpapers (kind of defeats the purpose of a subtle message if it's already in words) but I dislike vegetarians more.

 But nothing says "baddassery" more than battling dinosaurs.

Last but not least, some "omg this is awesome."

Today I worked my first shift as an usher at my new job at the movie theater. By the end of the day, I had met a lot of fun people, my feet hurt, and I had cleaned a lot of theaters. You probably can already tell where I'm going with this.

Popcorn is probably one of the stranger foods we eat normally. Who thought "hey, let's put this chicken feed on the fire and then eat it." Well, it turns out it explodes, and when you put butter and salt on it, it becomes delicious. It also makes huge messes.

So here's my warning for you movie goers out there. If you ever go to a movie and drop popcorn on the ground, I will find you, and strangle you. It also so happens that the more time you trod on it, the amount of pieces will grow infinitely until you have microscopic pieces of popcorn that cover the earth.

There's a trend in what I saw in theaters today. Adults grab napkins. Lots of them. Then they stuff them in the cup holder along with their half drunk large drinks (I was incredibly thirsty today. Feeling their icy coldness was torture.) Kids buy popcorn. They throw it at each other. It ends up on the floor, and eventually in those tiny pieces. I wonder if a leafblower would work on them...

(If you're wondering, this is a rant about popcorn, not my job. Please don't fire me.)

To be honest, I really don’t know what happens after Genesis- I assume that’s when the brain washing starts, but that makes for bad writing. From here on, I’ll just make up my own story for the most part, and add any names that ring a bell.

Exodus:
Setting: Egypt.

The desert is hot. The Pharaoh's balls became sweaty, and this pissed him off so he enslaved the lesser people, those who did not wish to partake in the porky goodness that is bacon, aka, the Jewish people. (I say Jew'ish' because there wasn't that much distinction between religions back then.) Anyways, he make them the slaves to help build pyramids and stuff.

Their leader, Moses, was a pretty cool guy, and he didn't afraid of the Pharaoh. He called upon God to make the skies rain snakes and beetles and stuff, and this freaked the Pharaoh out, and he was all like "Gtfo, we don't need yo snake rain. I didn't want a Pyramid anyways." And so Moses and his people left, but just as they were about to leave, the Pharaoh was all like "jk lol" and tried to push them into the Red Sea, but little did they know that Moses was also a waterbender, and he totally parted that shit. Then all the Egyptians drowned.

On the other side of the Red Sea was desert. No, not dessert. Anyways, there was lots of desert. They didn't have a GPS or anything, so they pretty much walked around in the desert for a long ass time. Along the way, they found a mountain, and Moses climbed it for the hell of it. There, God was all like "Here, take these, these are some rules I want you to follow." And even though the rules were BS like "no killing each other" they went along with it.

So after a long while of not taking directions from their women, they finally reached the promised land. And then they started drilling for oil, the end.

Fact: The Internet is a big series of tubes.
Fact: if you shove enough shit into these tubes, said shit will leak out.
Fact: You really don’t want to know what the third rule is. All you need to know is that the internet is slowly invading.

You might say "I like the internet, the internet is my friend, it could never hurt me." But the internet has many faces. And some of those faces are made up of penises. So what are you going to do when some penis-faced internet monster shows up at your doorstep?

"Mom, the internet is here again."

So what happens next?  Will our cats suddenly start talking to us, complete with horrible English?  Will they develop layers of delicious puffed pastry and frosting, then gain the power to turn their colons into rainbow producing devices, and finally leave the Earth to spread joy and happiness to the galaxy?
Of course not, cats can't use the internet.   They don't know what a meme is, silly.  That's what makes them pure creatures, unlike humans.

Will bestsellers be considered "cool stories?"  How will people deal with the haters who do nothing but hate?  Will people have to be classified as "forever alone" instead of "single?"

Forever alone no longer.

The internet has already taken over, my friends, all that is left is the revolution of the interneters.

Count me in.

Meanwhile, on the internet:
Hey guys, I’m from real life, I’ve come to show you all the fun you could be having right now!

Get. The. Fuck. Out.

There are some pretty bad drivers in this world.  And you just know that they're going to park badly as well.  Like right in front of an exit.

It never occurred that the lack of lines or the fact that they were almost directly perpendicular to someone else meant that that was not, in fact, a spot to park. Maybe they were thinking "hey, I'll only be in there for 5 minutes, nobody will have to get out in that time." Well, at least she (saying she because, well, you know) didn't try to park on a road.

You mean the wheel acts the opposite way when backing up? Even the three cars that passed you because you were blocking both lanes were able to make a U-Turn on a 2 lane road. Did you not pay any attention?

Try to count how many times you yell "Just Go!!" through the course of this video.

In a world where you can buy anything from used hairpieces, mummified pieces of random celebrity's fecal matter, to obtuse over-sized dildos, all from the internet, there still lies one thing that you have to leave the house to buy: fucking groceries.  Now if you're one of those yuppies with the fridge that senses when you're low on pickled pig feet and sends out warning messages to the nearest store that you no longer have your lardy goodness, you wouldn't have to bother.  Unfortunately, for us working class folks we have to step outside and go to the store.  But not all stores are created equal.  So you have to figure out a way to avoid the life-sucking void of stores that will steal your soul and your money.  So here's some guidelines to follow.

1) Of course, since you don't know how to cook or anything, and the reason you're going to the store in the first place is because your stomach started having the gurglies and you couldn't find any food the first, second, or third time to the fridge, you're going to end up buying shit like this:

Via

You can fix this by going to some place like Costco or whatever type of store you have in your town that gives out free samples.  Proceed to pass by them several times until sufficiently full.  If you don't, you will get drawn into the trap of the 96 pack of whatever, effectively killing your desire to ever eat any amount of said product ever again.

2) Not that I ever go to Walmart, but the stuff in there is nicely priced, as long as you don't mind the taste of sweaty immigrant workers.  If you can avoid letting people see you go in there, and are able to make your way past the obese lady in the power chair and make your way to the snack isle, you can totally find a fun sized, family sized, or even fun-family sized version of just about anything.  Just don't get distracted by the McDonalds on the way in.

3) Rayleys vs The Others.  Rayleys, Safeway, Whole Foods, wherever.  The fancy store- almost every non gang-inhabited town has one.  Then there's the less than great store where all the other people go, and end up having to choose between a pack of beers or a pack of toilet paper (guess which one they choose).  In my town, it's called Winco (The name has changed like 5 times since I came here when I was 5.)  It's really not that bad.  You can get a doughnut for 55 cents, or a two liter bottle of off-brand soda for 75.  But the Rayleys is by far my favorite, however.  Why?  Because all the hot chicks work there.  Not even kidding. Go there.

4) The Dollar Store.  EVERYTHING IS A FUCKING DOLLAR WHY DID YOU NEVER THINK OF THAT IT'S LIKE YOU'RE A RICH PERSON IN A PLACE WHERE RICH PEOPLE BUY LOTS OF CHEAP THINGS LIKE HUMAN SOULS YOU POOR FUCK YOU SHOULD GO OUT AND BUY LIKE ONE OF EVERYTHING!!!!!!!!!!

Music for me is like fish and water.  Sluts and penises.  Internets and trolls.  I always need it.  If there's not something worming it's way into my ears like the tongue of a carnivorous alien, then the voices... err I get bored.

But 600+ songs gets boring after a while, so I'm always on the search for something new.  So I turn on Last.fm, borrow my mom's car to listen to the radio, or just go on YouTube and search for random anime songs (obviously I wouldn't find any of those on the radio, that would be awesome though.) 

Listening to this on my Ipod, suddenly feel like it's my own personal theme song.  Try to stop from breaking out in dance.

After taking my precious time to pirate each and every song carefully, I let my OCD take over and find and put in all of the correct information.  So then I take the newly downloaded songs and listen to them.  A lot.  Enough to learn all the lyrics- even the anime ones, despite not speaking a word of Japanese (I do actually).

After a while, even they get boring, so I am forced to turn on shuffle and listen to all my songs.  At that point, these "new" songs fall into categories:  The "fuck yeah why haven't I listened to this in forever" category, the "oh wow why do I still have this song" and finally the "OMG Smash Mouth nostalgiagasm." category.

At best this gives me a couple of weeks before my next download spree.  At which point the cycle starts all over again.

I'm not really religious, so I haven't read much of the Bible.  I like fiction and all, but the whole "god" think really gets me.  But it got me thinking; I could probably write it much better and have it be more interesting.  So I did.

Chapter 1: Neon Genesis

Once upon a time, there was this guy named God.  He liked Minecraft a lot, so he made the Earth.  But it was empty, so he made a mod to add people and animals.  The first guy he made was called Adam.  But Adam was forever alone, naked out in the garden of Eden with nothing but animals. 

Before being forced to turn to bestiality, God decided to make him a mate.  He took one of Adams ribs and made a creature called "woman."  Adam was all like "I got that bitch a rib.  Bitches love ribs."  But even having a piece of Adam's body was not enough for this woman named Eve.  She decided to redecorate the garden, and make Adam wear some clothes, as well as make him eat right, with plenty of fruits and vegetables (including apples, which got them kicked out, stupid bitch.)

Being kicked out of the Garden, they had nothing really to do but have sex and make babies.  Over 400 babies.  One of them killed another one, but they still had a lot.  Somehow they continued reproducing without incest- they lived a long time back then, they could have had time to learn how to clone or human transmutate via rib bones or something.  Fun fact: back then, everyone had 54 ribs each.  But after many generations of remaking people they ended up with much less.  (If only they had gone on a little bit longer self fellation could be possible for more people.)  Did I say they had sex?  No no, there's no sex in the Bible, that's a sin. 

It's summer time, and other than me sweating my balls off, nothing is really happening. Except if you're a preteen boy. Then you get to play video games all day and be on the internet after your parents have gone to bed, looking at sites they wouldn't want you looking at. Being a college student, this is a daily occurrence for me- after all, I've earned it through many years of going through puberty, growing hair in different places, and getting a deeper voice. Which is what drives us apart from these summertime squeakers.

Typical middle school internet er.

These are the ones you hear on Xbox live- the Justin Beaber sounding ones- better known as the squeakers.  The ones who have just learned their first bad words like "faggot" and think it's the coolest thing ever.  Faggot.


Then somewhere along the line some of them find 4chan.  "Hey guys there's this site called forchan and you can like totally go there and make fun of the faggots who like anime.  Someone even posted a pic with tits.  Ya, like girl tits, real ones." 

Thus goes the last line of defense.  Normally filled with gentlemen and scholars, the boards at night get trampled by the masses of kindergarteners trying out baby's first troll.
"Hey guys, who's you're favorite anime?  Mine's Scooby Doo."

>My Face when summer.

We're short on time here at The Troll Cave. Talk is cheap. This kid is probably going to cost me a fortune.

This reminds me of a phrase a wise man once said to me: Has anyone really been far even as decided to use even go want to do look more like? But obviously this kid wants someone to do him so bad that he'll do anything. Sounds like the story of my life. You know what, I bet the story of my life would be best be told with Microsoft Sam. Especially if I was on the moon.

I TOLD YOU BRO. TOLD YOU ABOUT THE MOON. Oh the trolling possibilities are endless. Video blog anyone?

I've discovered something amazing!  Apart from developing carpal tunnel and horrible vision from many hours of using a mouse and keyboard, I have developed keyboard callus.  Exhibit one: Korean Starcraft Players.

Totally not being stereotypical... not all Koreans play Starcraft.  Probably.

It's more like mouse hand, since it's only on the right, and when playing games my fingers are only on the WASD keys (pretty much my default position)  my left wrist pretty much never touches the desk. Here's a picture of my very obvious callus:
Compared to my left hand:

Notice the very prominent veins.  The people at the blood center love me.  I could probably be a very good druggie.

Sadly, I could not figure out a way to compare them side to side because well... taking a picture of my right hand was hard enough.  Taking a picture with no hands is a no go. 

I can probably guess you are confirming your own right now.  Yes, your wrist has grown extra padding to accommodate for it setting against a hard surface all day.  I wouldn't be surprised if my wrist bone has grown as well.

I used to think that the world revolved around the sun, always having a constant cycle- the circle of life as it would be. But it's more complicated than that. Summer has brought about many late nights, up trolling the internets and playing minecraft until my eyes hurt.

Then comes morning.

One night, lost in smashing blocks, I looked up to check the clock- 5:30 am. Peering outside my window, it noticed something strange- the world had become light. My RPG’s had lied to me. I did not have to go to bed before the next day was able to become reality. The endless cycle was able to be broken.  I was no longer bound by by my bed to wait for the next day to come around.  I no longer need to sleep!


Not that time operates in the same way throughout the whole day.  It also changes depending on whether you're sleeping or not.  If you wake up early before your class starts, and you close your eyes for a quick 10 minute "nap", you wake up an hour and a half later, having to scramble to class.  However if you're in that one boring math class that you're repeating for no reason and it's still like half a freaking hour before you get out and you forget your your laptop so you can't Facebook/Minecraft/look at porn in the back of the room, you can try to go to sleep (most community college "professors" don't care). Close your eyes for 10 minutes at 3:15?  Wake up at 3:16. I could try to explain various time-space theories and thoughts on relativity (which I have absolutely no clue about) but the best way to explain it is that Father time is just one big troll.

(Yes, I misspelled the title on purpose.  Bork bork bork.)

Chapter One this week! I've only written several chapters, but I'll keep this going until I find something more interesting and less wall-of-text like to post. Feel free to leave ideas.

Chapter One: Chinook.
May 14, 2020, Somewhere in Northern Canada.

Chinook was like any other refugee town. Those who were able to escape the blasts and the resulting fallout were moved up north to these various “camps” set up by the joint forces of what was left of the United States and Canadian governments. The Mexican government refused to join in, afraid that if they harbored American refugees in their country, they would receive the same fate as their northern neighbors.
The camp was built around a small backwater town, out away from the rest of civilization, placed over a partially dormant volcanic spring in northern Canada. It was once a home for many fisherman and other mountain men who would gather during the fur seasons. Now, taken over by people from the states, it had become nothing more than a slum. The housing was made up of small pre-made shacks brought in by the government, and, despite them being few in number; the amount of survivors were able to completely occupy most of them. The dirty streets of the town were silent and empty, just like every other cold night. Despite the meager heat produced by the springs around the city, and the warm wind which the city was named for, the town was constantly under a sheet of snow. Although it was late spring, the temperatures were still below zero degrees, making it hard for people to venture out. One man was visible wandering though the flurries of snow. The man walked down the sidewalk, scanning the buildings with collar pushed up high against to shield his neck from the chilling wind.
“Damn these shitty directions” he muttered to himself, looking down at a small piece of crumpled paper. He continued down the street, looking up and down the barren bland storefronts, eventually turning down one of the alleyways to a door with a crude sign above it reading “Booze.”
“How blunt.” He thought to himself. As he walked through the door, the bartender looked up and nodded to him. One other man sat in the bar; he took a seat besides him.
“Haven’t seen you in here before, stranger.” said the man.
“I just moved here. One of my new neighbors told me about this place when he heard me asking around for a place to get my drink on” He smirked.
“Well it seems like he has good taste.” The man shifted and turned to him. “The name’s Brett. You?”
“Harold O’Leah. Friends, at least the ones who aren’t dead, call me Hank.” He motioned to the bartender to bring a drink. The bartender set down a short glass of pale brown liquid in front of him. He went back to polishing the other side of the counter.
“So why aren’t there many people here?” said Hank, picking up the glass. He held it to his lips and slowly took a sip. As soon as the whiskey hit that back of his throat he coughed and choked. The bartender eyed the two uneasily. “Bah, this tastes like piss.” He sputtered.
“That’s why…” Said Brett, motioning to the glass. “…there ain’t nobody here.”
The bartender slid down to the two men. “We ain’t got no good shipments in quite some time here ya’ see”
Brett continued “There’s pretty much no more good aged alcohol out there, ever since the ‘war’” He rolled his eyes. “That’s what you get when you only let this stuff sit in the barrel for only a month. Gets no flavor.”
Hank looked down at his drink and swirled it slowly in the cup.
“You want barrel-aged Jack? You’re better off just marinating it with a board, it couldn’t make it any worse.” Brett chuckled.
“Ya, I think I’ll pass. Well, at least anything to keep you from freezing out in those streets on a night like this.”
“Tell me about it,” said Brett. “Most of these temp houses they got us set up don’t have anything in the way of heating.”
“I used to live down right on the gulf coast of Texas.” Hank reminisced, “I should be on the beach right now soaking up rays. Oh how I miss the ocean.” He said melodramatically, spreading his weight out over the bar.
“You can always sun-bathe on the edge of some green, bubbling radioactive pool. That will give you some nice color.”
“Remind me to never come to you for life planning advice.” He sneered. “You actually believe in all that stuff too? Like the radioactive wastelands and all?” Brett pretended to ignore him. Hank quickly downed the last bit from his glass and motioned to the bartender again. “Hey you got any beer back there?”
“Just hard alcohol here bud, beer has too much o’ their precious water in it. They wouldn’t dream of making a brewery or nothing around here, or even shipping it in from somewhere, too bulky and expensive to transport around.”
“Come to think of it, these shipments you hear about. I’ve seen the trucks. Where exactly do they come from?” pondered Hank.
Brett stared at the bar for a second. “I suppose the North American Aid Front ships them in. You know, they set up these new-age Hoovervilles; I suppose they are the ones supplying them too. This post war government thing has at least something down. Who would have though, Canhucks and Yankees working together instead of just poking fun at each other?” Brett elbowed him playfully.
“All of these supplies though. You know damn well there’s nothing up north of here, and supposedly everything below the old Canada- U.S. border is baked.” Hank put his hands behind his head and stared up at the ceiling. “The trucks don’t even have the insignia of the NAAF.”
“Don’t bite—or over think—the hand that feeds you.”
“Ya I know, I know.” Brett said impatiently. “There’s just those things that make you wonder.”
“You’re new here, get a job with them, assuming you don’t already have one. I’ve seen several people drive off with them to go to god knows where. None of them have returned, none the less, you may find yourself an adventure.” Brett looked over at him, anticipating an answer.
“A truck driver? That doesn’t interest me. Back before the war all truck drivers were big sweaty guys who drove twelve hours a day listening to bad country music and flipping each other off.”
“You don’t know what could be waiting out there for you.” chuckled Brett. He got up and dropped some cash on the counter. “Go to one of the supply stations tomorrow, and go around back to look for one of the supervisors. You’ve got nothin’ to lose.”
“Yeah, whatever.” Mumbled Hank as he walked out the door.
Hank slowly finished another drink, and exited in the same manner. As he walked down the sidewalk he paused for a moment to let one of the large brown trucks drive by before walking across. As it went down the road towards the edge of town Hank followed it with his eyes, thinking to himself.
“Hmm…”

I'm kind of a wordly person. I can go rampaging around the internets all I want, but if I add to the destruction of the planet, there will be no one left to troll. That's why I care about things like Economics and the environment. I took ap econ in high school, and even thought I got a D in it, I think I learned a thing or two about economics. Take this for example.

I have both a fan and a space heater. Sometimes the heater gets too hot, so I turn on my fan to cool it down. Why not just turn off the heater? Energy. N-R-G. The more energy I use, the more my mom pays, and the more electricity the power companies have to generate- energy doesn’t come from magic like most roll-around-in-the-compost-pile type environmentalist people think. More money in the system and more jobs equals a more secure economy.

And while we’re on the topic of environmentalism, I thought I would tell you about my idea for global warming. Summer is right around the corner (unless you live in upside down world like Australia, then it would be winter.) The heat is coming soon. So why not try to cool down the environment? I suggest all of you out there open up your windows and turn on your air conditioners full blast in order to combat the earth warming up. It might even help to push us away from the sun (or closer, which is bad, in a skin bubbling sort of way). But if that happens it just gives companies better incentive to make stronger AC's. Now get to work.

Yes, we are back, this time with shower antics.  Yes, you heard me right.

Believe me, there are a lot worse things that guys can do to each other in public showers (besides the obvious dropping the soap trick.)  I took gym in high school.  I was that fat kid who did the mile in 30 minutes.  So obviously, I was afraid of what would happen if I went into the shower.  So I didn't take one.  And I probably stank.  Luckily this kid wont.

And now for something completely creepy:

"Mommy, where do babies come from?" "Well, son... omfg what is that?"

Cheer up momma baby, I'm sure the world will accept your super sexy yet infantile body one day.

You can learn a lot from anime. Personally, I've learned a lot of Japanese from them. Not that you baka would know any. Sugoi monogatari, onii-chan. But anime also teaches you about Japanese culture as well as the rich language.

For instance, the fact that nobody knows how to knock in Japan. “I know the door to the bathroom is closed, and I can hear the sound of running water, but I know there’s no way there could be naked girls in their soaping each other up.”

Well, I've been wrong before.  Alt: Best mistake ever!

Despite their cleanliness, Japanese people can catch a cold from just about anywhere.  Not sleeping under the blankets?  Catch a cold.  Going outside when it's cold?  Kaze o hikimasu.  And to think, all this time the common cold actually came from actually being cold, and not a virus.

And what happens when an actual virus or other potentially dangerous foe comes to destroy humanity?  Of course, throw a bunch of teenage high school students at it.  (Their parents are NEVER in town or even present anyways.)  Those who don't die will develop some sort of superpower, or find some mech that they mysteriously know how pilot perfectly (unless their name is Shinji).  The more hair they have or the louder they can scream also helps. 

A true hero.

We can't forget about important life lessons from hentai either.  A man's erection is very painful, and the only way to solve it is via blowjob.   It can't be helped.  Hips really do move on their own, eating someone's poop means that you love them, and all demons want to secretly impregnate every single human female, and somehow have the correct (but oversized) genitalia to do so.

Did I miss anything?

Today, my internet was down.  It lasted for about 4 hours.  No tweets were tweeted, no lols were had, no porn was fapped to, and no boards were trolled.  It was truly dark times.  Luckily my ISP got their act together, fixed the cord they tripped over, and got me my livelyhood back.

Color coding: doesn't work when they're all the same color.

I thought about calling up my ISP to see what was the problem, but I would probably be asked to restart my computer, my router, my modem, refresh my IP, do a virus scan, reinstall my operating system, redo the wiring in my house, build a satellite dish out of tinfoil and coat hangers, as well as other stuff to let them stall long enough to fix the obvious problem on their end.  But I didn't, and my internet is back, and I didn't even have to do anything to fix it, like I have been doing lately.

My mom happened to get a virus the other day.  How?  I saw that her antivirus wasn't running.  It worked when I opened it up, but it wouldn't run in the background, so I tried uninstalling it.  It failed.  Why?  It said I couldn't because it wasn't even installed.  Downloading the new version seemed to work, but it would have helped if it was there when she got the virus.  One of those viruses that says everything on your computer is infected, and is therefore unusable.


Of course removing that asshole of a virus messed up Windows, but I was once again able to fix it. However, now my mom is paranoid. Internets down? Virus. Laptop shuts down because battery is low? Virus. Can’t print? Virus. Ugh...

Well it seems I actually have to do something on Fridays now, and it would be in bad taste to get Erika here for a full time position as a troll (It looks bad on a resumé) so I guess I'll post some of my actual writing (instead of trying to do stuff like, I don't know, explaining stuff.)   So here's the prologue to my book- Coldfront (working title).


Prologue.
March 24, 2020. Pentagon, Sub-Level 3.

Two men walk down the dimly lit corridor, towards the end of the hall is a large door labeled “Satellite Espionage Department.” The men are followed by a group of black-suited secret service agents, almost invisible against the dark backdrop.

“What’s all the commotion down here, Markus?,” said the taller of the two.

“President Benton, sir, it seems South Korea has been developing something big. It isn’t confirmed, but all sources point to it being a nuclear device of some sort.”

“What do you mean something big? Where is it and why didn’t we notice earlier?” He said, gruffly.

“They are building it under one of their cities… it looked simply like municipal work, like a subway or sewer. Something harmless that we wouldn’t even look twice at. We just noticed when they piercing the ground.”
“If it is nuclear… under one of their cities?,” He looked worried, “If something like that accidentally went off, it would take out a large section of the countryside and everyone in it. Are they insane?”

“They obviously didn’t want it to be found. They seemed determined to keep it a secret from us at any cost.”

“What happens when the UN Inspectors snoop around there? If they do find something, the Koreans may feel threatened and they might set off whatever it is.”

“True,” Markus mumbled, “We’ll just have to see how it plays out.”

The men reached the door as Benton motioned to the entourage to wait in the hall. The two walked into the usually quite room, now bustling with a many workers moving back and forth from screen to screen, monitoring the changing visuals on screen. Papers cluttered the desks, and various scribbles and notes were posted all over the board at the back of the room.
“What’s the current situation here?” Benton belted.

The room suddenly became quiet, save the hum of computers in the background. A few of the men looked up silently.
“Sir,” said one of the men, standing up, “I’m afraid we just received bad news. The UN Inspectors followed up on our lead, and arrived at the scene of the construction around 1200 hours, about twenty minutes ago. When they asked to be allowed into the building site, they were refused. After they threatened to use extreme measures, they were forced out of the site. Just now we intercepted a message to their superiors to authorize the use of force, but it sounds like they were cut off and possibly executed or captured. We’re positive now that there is something that they are hiding.”

Just then a sharp beeping pulsed from one of the computer speakers.
“It’s intelligence,” said a man in the corner, holding a headset up to his ear. “They are broadcasting on Korean news, some live feed showing them with the hostages.”

“Someone turn on the television!” Yelled Benton, causing Markus and several other men around to jump.
The T.V. in the corner buzzed on, one of the operators transferred the feed to Korean news. The image showed the group of U.N. investigators bound, sitting on the ground, their captors making speeches to the slowly gathering rabble. One man in the room started translating. “It sounds like they said they want to ‘Teach the West a lesson’ and that ‘our doom is eminent.’” The man speaking on screen waived his hands in the air wildly, as if calling upon the heavens.”

The radio in the room buzzed again. The man closest to it picked it up and let open the speaker. A voice cracked through the static and echoed through the room. “They know we’re too late to do anything.” came the voice of the vice president, who had been keeping up on the situation from the oval office. “Their government is now demanding a full withdrawal and a release on their nuclear restrictions.”

“There is no way in hell we would do that,” pondered Markus, “We have to take the first action. These dipshits are backed into a corner; they could go off at anytime. Do we even know if their superiors are at the controls of these so-called nuclear weapons?”
Benton put leaned his hand on the desk, as if he were sick. “Well it seems our next move would—“
A loud siren rang throughout the room, the secret service officers burst through the door. The man listening to the broadcast in the corner suddenly stood up and shouted. “A warning shot has been fired!”

“Shit!” Yelled Markus. “That means-.” An automatic intercept missile had already been fired from the United States Military Base in Okinawa, Japan. “They are going to think it’s a counter attack!”

“That’s it, they’ve fired everything.” Called out the operator once again. “It’s all over.”

The room jumped into a frenzy. Papers went flying as operators rushed to their desks to monitor the situation. Frantic typing was heard as the news of an impending nuclear disaster was spread.
“How much time do we have?” yelled Markus over the commotion.

“Enough time to launch a proper counter attack,” bellowed Benton, “Hit them with everything we have.”
“Sir” said Markus, “That would end up in M.A.D ”

A secondary siren started blaring as well.
“What in the bloody hell is that!” Screamed Benton.

Markus pushed several men to the side and bent down to look over one of the monitors. He stood up with a look of death on his face.

“Both the Middle Eastern Defense Pact and the EU have fired as well.” Markus sighed. “Targets from both sides include Here, The West coast, Britain, Korea, and Iraq. There is no way to counter them all. At this rate there will be no one left to bury our bones.”

“Well boys, it seems this is World War Three. This day in age, a few missiles can bring down an entire nation, an entire continent. Pretty damn short for a war, don’t you think? It’s funny how one man with one button can reduce something to nothing but radioactive ashes. Thus is the fate of humanity…”

The remaining men in the room sat quietly despite the siren blaring, some silently praying, others weeping. There would be no escaping the massive explosion and fallout that loomed in their near future.

Next week, Chapter 1!  Stay Tuned.

There are some things that are hard to explain. The smell of rain on a hot day. The touch of boobs. That feeling of waking up before they stop serving breakfast at McDonalds. Words do not do them any good. Not even onomatopoeia. No, this shit is way out there.

Have you ever seen someone try to explain the beat to a song using words?

Nope, sorry, can't place it.  Try different syllables.  What's worse is a dubstep wobble (wub wub wub WUB wub).  I'm sorry, all songs in that particular genre go like that.

Humans have an innate ability for language.  Except me.  I'm really bad at explaining things, even if they are actual concepts rather than random abstract thoughts like the ones above.  If a normal explanation of something is Wikipedia, I would probably be directions for a folding chair from Ikea.  In Swedish.  Using Morse code.

Oh silly me, there's no words on Ikea directions.

Which is why I don't explain things.  Especially here.  I tried it.  It was bad.  It wasn't funny.  But that's only because I was actually trying to make sense of it.  This is what happens if I don't:

So uh, the internet is a big series of tubes, and it holds information.  And like your put porn and pictures of cats in it.  Then people laugh at you and call you faggot.  But it's ok cause you're anon and they can't touch you.  Anon are pretty cool guys.  They control the internet.  Which is a big series of...

Yes, that's pretty much how I talk.  Except in real life it would be way spaced out.

Like this.

And all broken up.

Really bad story.

Bro.