16 minute story
the latest issue of mcsweeney's quarterly had 29 stories written in 20 minutes each. my pal gippy and i do that all the time. here's one from last night that clocked in under 16 minutes (you get what you pay for...)
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Dear Josh:
I know it looks bad. I mean, we'll all supposed to be so happy, right? But the thing is, I didn't get it done. I was signed up like everybody else, but when i went to get it done it turned out there was this other Jacob Walker right there, same birthday even, and I guess they thought he was me-- man, there must have been twenty Jacobs and Joshuas and Jeremys in the room, what were our moms thinking back then? and I was laughing about this, about how they thought he as me, and I decide to just play along and watch til he comes out after the implant. I was laughing pretty good, until he walks out, looking like that Nicholson guy in that old movie, One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest. You ever see that? About a crazy guy, only he's not so crazy, he's crazy like a fox as they say, amd he's putting one over on the Man, or so he thinks. Then they take and scramble his brain, and he's smiling like a pussy cat, but it's like it's not HIM any more.
And I know, all the ads say it doesn't change nothing, just makes you happy, and even you tell me how great everything is now, since you and Debby had it done, and why didn't we do it early, when it was voluntary, save ourselves a couple years of regular real life misery. And I was all for it, too, till I saw that other Jacob Walker come out and look at me and smile that empty sort of smile.
So anyway, I never took it.
And I found out through the grape vine that there's a bunch of us, others who didn't take it because of some religious crap or because they're afraid of needles, or think it's some conspiracy to make us all robots. That wasn't my deal, but once I decided, I started paying attention to the Pre-bes, and thinking well they may be weird but at least they are THERE. And I was talking to Phoebe about it, and she had that weird smile, that same smile you see posted on all the faces in the Emotech ads, and she kept telling me I should get a check up at the clinic, because everything was really fine now and I seemed to have some glitch that needed adjustment. Our cat had been hit by a garbage truck the day before, and you know I hated that damn cat, but still, Phoebe kept going on about acceptance and letting in the bliss and I shook her and said but you LOVED that cat--
So yeah. I blew the place up. I'm no murderer-- I called them up and told them to get everybody out. That cop, I feel bad about that, but everyone says he is going to be fine.
I appreciate you trying to get me that insanity lawyer. But I'm not crazy. I'm just not that happy-- and that feels right to me.
You know?
Your brother forever,
Jacob
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