And so, I found my way back to my mansion in Vermont. Of course, I'd never really left, had I? Well, I guess I had when I went to live in Bolivia for research purposes from 1996 to 1999. And again when I decided to be raised by wolves in a reincarnation attempt in the woods outside of the mining town of Screeglankton. Plus that one time that I was incarcerated in Australia for thirteen years for "manslaughter", AKA they didn't want to convict a wealthy American of murder.
Anyway, that was the summer of my preconsent-- or fall of misrepresent-- or spring of maldissent-- whatever, it's supposed to be something really intelligent, like Shakybeard. The point is that I was really uncomfortable, on account of, I was wearing these crotchless panties my wolfen mother had gotten me for my birthday and they were really riding my buttcrack like a zoophile who works in an animal refuge.
No wait, I was upset that year because my mother had died, like an animal who lives in an animal refuge where a sado-masochistic zoophile works.
Or was my favorite show cancelled, like a zoophile who works at an animal refuge, discovered by his supervisor, copulating with the mule.
Whatever, it's not important. What's important is that I get rid of the bodies of that mule and Lenny from the animal refuge. Because I couldn't afford
another court case AND my mansion in Vermont. Not to mention my bi-monthly, worldwide vacations. Plus, what if they actually managed to convict me. That's, with my money, a guaranteed two to three years in minimum security prison.
If only I had lots of gambino friends with experience in getting rid of bodies that could be used against someone in a court case, like a partial fingerprint on the forehead of a man I'd recently killed and a mule who died during an act of passionate, wild beastiality. Wait!
Didn't I know the grandson of the greatest gambino that ever was, Bitchwuss Pinkerstein; Fagopuss Pinkerstein?
Yes; yes I did.
Good, then I'll just contact him in the past... -Ring ring-
-Click-
Hello?
Yeah, Fagopuss Pinkerstein in the past?
Yeah, this is he; so long as you're calling from the future with a future-call-to-the-past phone.
I am.
So, what is this call regarding?
Ah, yes, I just wanted to let you know that past me is coming over later to ask you for a favor. Believe me, I earn it in the future. I save your wife from dying of cancer while in a coma caused by a car wreck... which you caused by being so damn soused all he time. (side note: I never really did that)
Okay, I'll get my things ready. Thanks for the heads up.
Whatever
-Click-
-beep, beep, beep, beep, beep-
Uh, hello?
Oh, hang up; I need to make another call.
Oh, sorry.
-Click-
-Ring Ring-
-Click-
Yello?
Yello? Is this past me?
Is this Jeremiah Kazafekas?
No, but that is one of my Turkish aliases.
Then, yes, this is the past you.
Well then, stop being so gay. Look, you need to go to Fagopuss Pinkerstein's house to get help with that little murder and defamation of animal rectum.
Um, that hasn't happened yet.
Oh, sorry then.
-Click-
-Beep, beep, beep, beep-
-Beep, beep, beep, beep, beep-
Hello?
Yeah--
Get off the line, I need to make a call!
You get off the line, I need to make a call!
Okay, on three; cool?
Sure.
One, two, three
-
God damn it! Hang up!
You hang up!
No!
I'm not hanging up.
Well then, you're going to get thrown in prison in the future.
Whatever. It ain't like it could be any worse than Australia, or... what we do at night.
Yeah that's true.
-
Well, I guess I'll just go back and face the piper.
That's big of me.
Yes; yes, it is.
-
Damn it hang up! Prison fucking sucks!
Fine, fine. Fuck!
-Click-
-Ring Ring-
Yes'm?
I'm just getting gayer by the second... I guess that... that's pretty much true.
Me from the future?
Yep. Wait, how did you know?
I figured I'd think of something in the future to get myself out of this predicament. In fact, I've been laying around getting soused and running over people's wives who have cancer. (side note: I may have done that part)
Look, you need to get over to Fagopuss Pinkerstein's house.
Is he the grandson of notorious gambino, Bitchwuss Pinkerstein?
The very same.
I'm on my way!
-Click-
-Beep, beep, beep, beep-
What are you doing?
I'm just going to call an escort over so I can show up prominently. Don't want to have an embarrassing entrance to the house of one of the most notorious gambinos on Earth without a woman at my side.
That's a good point. I'll get off the line.
-Click-
Suddenly, the memories of what happened on that fateful night come rushing back to me in a blaze of light and pure, electrical force.
Apparently, that Fagopuss guy and his gay uncle Bitchwuss are nothing but faggoty accountants that keep people's money in books or something. I don't know, but they aren't gambinos, they're just plain gay. Gay, gay, gay!
Yet, when I opened my eyes again... I was still in goddamn prison! Man, fuck this space-time communication! It doesn't do shit!
Get over here "War-den"! Ha, ha! What a dumbass nickname! Seriously, I feel like some good old-fashioned sodomy!
Ha! I did not say gang-rape, "Lieutenant"!
I said no gang-rape! God damn it! No gang-rape! Ugh! This is Canterbury all over again, and over and over and over again. Ha, ha! Prisoner raping by prison officials!
The end
