Do you know a man who’s really fat?
Do you know a man who’s aware of that
So he tries to hide all of his fat
By wearing one of those fancy hats.
Do you know this man? Or, it could be a woman.
Or maybe a gender undetermined.
Or maybe even too determined.
Whatever that they see themselves in.
‘Cause everyone is beautiful.
Except, of course, those who aren’t so.
‘Cause if it’s not the physical,
But the insides are still questionable
If you are easily offended, read this stanza.
Then perhaps some self-improvement is what you need.
Go to the gym, or find some a good book to read.
Do whatever you can to succeed!
Something something shitty happy motivational bullshit rhyme!
If you have any sense of humor at all, feel free to read this one.
You might just be “that guy.” At least one, we all know.
The douchebag, the feminist, or the asshole.
We talk about you when you don’t know.
You’re the worst kind of people in the whole wide world.
(Shamus does not condone that feminist joke.)
Stick around to the end for a special performance of an original song by Shamus, in which Shamus professes his undying, unconditional love for Kenny. No, really. There is actual singing. And instruments. It’s awesome.
Welcome to Episode 25, and the first normal blog post in a while! Today, we talk about that which makes us the happiest of all: the pursuit of happiness! What is happiness, you ask? It is that which we pursue until we acquire it. It is that which runs until it stops. It is listening to music until you no longer hear music. It is that four-sided rectangle and that round circle. It is freezing water into ice. It is being awake until you go to sleep after showering naked and lying on your back in bed staring at the ceiling, and being awake again when you wake up. Lastly, it is letting go of that to which you are no longer holding on.
Do you agree? Of course you don’t, and if you do, you’ve obviously tuned out the voice of Kenny. Tell us what you think! Bonus points if you can figure out the name the type of sentences in this post. Lastly, check out the new and improved Podcast page, upgraded with fancy (nested) HTML tables!
Shamus usually never concerns himself with these silly projects.
“Go to a Buddhist temple and write a two-page report on it.”
Nah, I’ll just ask an Asian.
“Visit the soup kitchen on Sunday morning and interview a worker and a patron. Alternatively, write a research paper on the history of poverty in this city that no one’s ever heard of.”
Research paper it is.
Yet, here he stands on this Friday evening outside of the Asylum for the Nonconforming and Greatly Struggling Troublemakers. The city’s equivalent to Batman’s Arkham Asylum, the most dangerous criminals from the whole state get transferred here. Gripping his notepad, he could hear screaming, cheering, and sirens, although he could not tell whether that was coming from behind him or in front of him.
“Hi. I’m here for the tour.” Shamus says, as he hands over his ID.
“Quite the studious one, aren’t ya?” The guard says, as he scans the ID in what seems to be through an unlimited number of machines. ”Why aren’t you out with your friends instead? We’re open for tours every day, ya know.”
“Uhh I’m not really into the whole party scene. Besides, I was feeling…productive tonight.”
“Uh huh. Here you go.” He hands back Shamus’ ID along with a Visitor’s badge. ”Just don’t go through any doors that say ‘Employees Only.’ Which would be most of them.”
Shamus sighs walks through the door labeled “Visitors and Tourists.” The one time he actually does a project, and he gets teased.
Inside, the walls are so thick, they should be another category of body types. Doors are lined up equidistant apart, and electronics, probably security devices, run all along the walls.
“These probably control the doors,” a voice says. Shamus turns around and sees a mysterious, hooded figure, probably female, judging from the voice. ”See, if you push this button, it asks for security clearance.” She pushes the button and lights flash on the right, while a touchscreen keypad appears on the left. ”And if you forget your ID, you could manually enter in a bypass.”
“Hey! You kids get away from that!” A voice yells from over the PA.
“Guess we should go somewhere else,” Shamus suggests.
“Yeah. Have you seen the execution chamber yet? I’m about to head over there.”
“Well you can join me if you want!” She says, cheerfully. ”My name’s Air, by the way,” she says, as she takes off her hood and extends her hand.
“I’m Shamus,” he says, as he shakes her hand and they start walking. ”Air…that’s an interesting name,” Shamus says, cautiously. Having spent most of the day doing projects, this was his first actual conversation of the day.
“It’s Italian!” Air says. ”My parents wanted something meaningful for my name.”
“Are they Italian?”
“No. They met at a pizza joint. What about you?”
“Oh…my parents died when I was four,” Shamus says, his voice dropping a bit.
“Oh no! I’m sorry.”
“It’s why I’m here today, actually. They were murdered by one of these ANGST-y motherfuckers.”
“So, what happened to you after that?”
“Well…I almost didn’t make it. He was going to murder me as well, but I was saved by this couple. I don’t remember much, I passed out. All I remember is darkness…no parents…then foster care.”
“Wow! A crime-fighting couple! Superheroes usually avoid getting involved with each other.”
“I know. I was really lucky, and I’ve decided to dedicate my life to getting justice.”
“Superman has been a big inspiration for me. All I want is equality.”
“But the world is not fair, Shamus. Not everyone is born equal.”
“No, but we could always strive for it. A lot of people claim to fight for equality, but they’re really only striving for what benefits them. I want true equality.”
“Excuse me, ” a guard interrupts Air, “but the execution chamber is off limits at the moment.”
“Oh, that’s okay,” Shamus says. ”I actually need to head over to ‘Heroes and History’ for my project. Air, thanks for listening to me,” Shamus says, as he turns the corner and disappears.
“Uh, but- ” Air stammers.
“Don’t worry, he’ll be back,” the security guard says. “‘Heroes and History’ is that way,” he says as he nods his head the direction from which the two walked.
“Oh. What’s happening in the execution chamber? I thought executions were normally open to the public,” Air asks.
“We’re executing a top-level criminal tonight. We always close to the public when we do one of those. Can’t risk any kind of interference.”
“What did this one do?”
“He’s a time-traveler, we believe. He’s been traveling through time, killing the ancestors of important people so that they would never be born.”
“Power struggle,” the guard shrugged. ”Anyway, it took us 19 years, but we were finally able to convict him with enough evidence. Of course, that’s 19 years relative to our time…”
“I would love to see this execution. Is there any way you can make it happen?”
“Sorry, no. You got a sick mind or something?”
“I’m an amateur detective. I mean, I want to be. I’ve followed all of Batman’s cases, or at least the ones that are public. I’ve never got a chance to see one of these top-level ones.”
“Well, normally, I wouldn’t, but seeing as how your guy just left you and still hasn’t come back, I could give you a peek while you wait. Besides, I love watching these myself.”
The security guard swipes his card and the door opens. The room is dimly lit, but she could make out a figure sitting behind an encompass of computers and electronics. The security guard leads her to the familiar viewing room and turns off his radio.
“Be quiet, it makes it more intense,” he says, grinning.
Air looks at the prisoner. Shackles around his ankles and wrists, he stands tall, smirking and drinking from a fifth of vodka, the only thing he requested for his last meal.
“We always found traces of vodka by his victims. Even when he was in the Prohibition period. It seemed he always drank vodka before he killed.”
“Guess you could say he was…the Absolut worse,” Air grins and the security guard smiles.
“…I like you. Remind me to break more rules for you next time you visit.”
Next to the prisoner, Air could see a vat of boiling sugar. As the prisoner finishes his drink, he is escorted to a rising platform, taking them above the height of the vat. Half of the platform moves forward to the middle of the vat, while the end on which a guard is standing remains.
“There will be a countdown from 3 to 0. On 0, the platform will drop you into the vat,” a voice says over the PA. Air watches anxiously as the prisoner doesn’t respond. In fact, she thought she may have caught him smiling.
Nothing. ”Uhh…zero,” the voice over the PA says again. ”ZERO, GOD DAMMIT.”
Suddenly, the doors open, and the room is flooded with criminals. With guns.
“What the hell?!” the security guard says as he turns his radio back on.
“…BREACH. SECURITY BREACH. ALL PRISONERS HAVE chssstzzzzzz”
“Run! There’s an exit over there!” The guard yells as he cocks his gun.
“How did you get off the platform?!” Air could hear the security guard yelling as she rushed through the hallway. The exit leads Air outside, behind the asylum.
“Hey! Get over here!” A security guard in a car motions to her. “Is there anyone else coming?”
“Uhh no. There was another visitor in there, but I don’t know where he went.”
“Get in!” She jumps in and they drive away from the asylum toward town. As they drive off, the field PA screeches on over the barrage of gunfire between the guards and the inmates.
A familiar voice roars over the PA, as Air’s expression turned from horrified to that similar to someone who just realized she’s been obsessively followed by an emotionally unstable, soul-sucking zombie.
Think you can outnerd us? Feel like criticizing Kenny’s writing? How do you feel about Shamus as a supervillain? Leave us comments and check out our other stuff!
those of you who know me know that I keep talking about a certain someone. i never got a chance to really to tell him how I feel, but today I want to let the world know.
Shamus kelley. i met him in sixth grade. we had the same lunch hour and stood in the same line to get inside briggs chaney in the morning. for the next three years, we would overcome the hardships of middle school. hardships such as girls, half page essays, and plastic water bottles. but we always prevailed. there was nothing we couldn’t do together. from epic foursquare games to singing songs in the mountains to russian dances in the basement, i thought that, just possibly, we had something special.
but then he left. he chose to go to a high school closer to my house than the high school that I chose to go to. and I never got a chance to say bye or really tell him how i felt. even though we did hang out somewhat regularly and continued to be a part of each other’s lives. i was never able to tell him how I felt. i mean, i might have a few times, but he responded somewhat negatively, so i assume he wasn’t really listening to what i said.
i will never forget our first night together. it started with being with our friends, but then you motioned me away. we walked slowly, and i followed you down the stairs. looking up i could see the full moon and how romantic it was. we continued talking, and we started talking about our deepest desires. then you asked me a question that changed it all.
“What would you do if we were attacked by werewolves right now?”
“I would run.” I said.
“…You would leave me?!?!!?”
i swear i meant to say that i would throw myself at the werewolves as a distraction so that you could get away safely. because, shamus kelly, i love you. i always have and always will. i will never forget you.
It’s exactly what it looks like.
Kenny promises that he actually has command of the English language past an 8th grader but purposely wrote the last two posts in contrary. We appreciate any and all feedback, so leave us some comments!
Years after their battle with the Orphenocs and Nyanininin, the riders have since moved on with there powerless lives. Overwhelmed by his recent interaction with person “X” Shamus decides to go for a walk by himself under the full moon to deal with his problems by himself. Suddenly he hears yelling and sees Kenny being dragged away by monsters! ”KENNY COME BACK!” Shamus yells as he rushes toward the monster, yelling “FURRIESOPHILLILA” and with that he transforms into Kamen Rider ΣεΞ! Shamus destroys the monsters with ease. Shamus de-henshins and asks Kenny what happened. Kenny explains that while he was on an expedtion in Moscow, Russia, he discovered some ancient Japanese motorcycles buried underneath the pyramids. Curious he turned them on and they turned into monsters! They flew away swearing vengeance on the world. Kenny explains that this means a new evil is on the rise, and new team of riders will need to stop it. The two resolve to find a group of teenagers with attitude who would be worthy to help them in this cause.
“All good things must come to an end.”
“That’s a cliché. I hate clichés.”
“Hating clichés is a cliché.”
As I stared into his eyes, my mouth formed some words in between that of the noise of a sheep and that of a cat in heat. The story of our life flashed before my eyes, from the first day of archery school to our journey across motherland and back.
“Is this what you really want?” I am finally able to muster.
“Did you really not see this coming?”
“But this road trip-”
“- Was a desperate last attempt.”
Whatever it was I was going to say was suppressed by the knowledge that he was right. He’s always right. He’s also taught me not to speak out when he is, as, as he says it, how I feel about the fact doesn’t change it.
“So, what now?” It seemed best to keep my sentences short enough that all my words were comprehensible.
“I wish you the best of luck,” he said, as he kissed me on my forehead. He slowly backed away, then turned around and walked backed into familiar grounds.
“Are you really going to make me do this alone?”
“You know that I may be blunt, but I’m not heartless.” He takes the sheathed sword off his back and tosses it backwards to me. “I’m sorry I have to leave, but it’s for the best.”
His father’s sword. A family heirloom passed down through his family’s generations. He wouldn’t even let me clean it before this. I turned around and entered the dragon’s lair. ”Thank you,” I said softly without looking back.
The most feared dragon in the land. Versus me: a lucky villager both blessed and burdened with the task of saving my world from his wrath. Alone. Well, alone and a half, I guess.
Breakups can be a lot like this, if you’re not careful.
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He walked over to his computer desk, which was really just old boxes he had kept after moving across the country. Various items are scattered messily: hearing notices, business cards, a tea mug, and trash that should be thrown away. And, of course, the action figures. The action figures strike familiar poses- the same ones that he was shown many years ago. They stand propped up against the old bicycle helmet. The words GIRO are still barely visible on one side: no doubt proof of the quality of the helmet. Not that it matters, though- it’s about 2 sizes too big for him to wear anyway.
“Henshin,” he whispers with a smile. Everyday, they stand there and teach him a lesson. The same lesson, but an important one, nonetheless. Someone has to, anyway. It’s been years since anyone’s actually verbally told him that. Coincidentally, he feels he needs that lesson right now, more than ever.
He stands in front of his computer and opens a blank word document. ”Dear Mr. President:” He stops typing and rocks back and forth. If he were staying any longer, he would so get a chair, he thinks to himself. Taking a deep breathe, he presses the return key twice, but he is interrupted by the vaguely familiar ringing of Skype. Hesitantly, he moves the mouse cursor to “Answer with Video.” Who wouldn’t pick that option, if an old friend calls out of the blue? Especially if he died 10 years ago.