Post by -Jack Noble- on Jul 2, 2013 15:59:34 GMT -4
~*!No, You're A Dick!*~
A long, well lit hallway appears before you. It's white tile floor reflects the lights glimmer from above. On either side, closed doors with no window or 'peep hole' stand tall. Suddenly, a random person walks down the hallway in front of the shot before noticing someone standing in front of him. He quickly jolts his body toward the left while reaching for the doorknob. The man slams the solid door behind him. With a quick pace, the shot moves in. “Group Therapy” reads a bone colored label. Slowly, the door creaks open. Inside sit a circle of chairs, with people to match. The shot then drops down a bit, obviously the man with the camera has sat down.
“My name is Rob.. and I'm.. I'm a rage-aholic.” says a lanky man whose name is apparently “Rob”. He bows his head in shame of his condition.
“Hey, Rob..” everyone else in the room doesn't seem all too excited to be in this select group.
One man, however, hasn't said one thing what so ever. He's just been sitting there like a lump of shit. He matters not, this is Rob's moment. All the build up anger, sadness, everything that he's needed to talk about over these last years.. it's his time to get everything out in the open in this therapy group.
“Well, you see, it all started when my dad would beat me...” said Robb. Mid sentence, though, he's cut off by a man you can only call a dick.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.. can this thing be over so I can move on with my life? I'm sure we all feel oh so bad for Rob, yeah, wahh wahh, but we all have lives. Is telling complete stranglers all of your bitchy little issues really going to make you feel better? You selfish little prick, no one else needs your problems straddled on their dicks.” says the most dickliest of dicks.
Jaws throughout the room hit the floor, no one can believe what had just been said. The man seems to realize that he's being single out from the rest.
“Oh, er, I mean.. uhm, continue?” he stutters. Not one peep can be heard around the room. Crickets are even feeling far too awkward to chirp.
“Okay, good. Looks like it's my turn then. My name is Dennis Dickerson and I'm better than all of you. I guess that's why I'm here since I can't see another reason why I'd be grouped in with you people. Seriously, how embarrassing, sitting here bitching about things that happened to you years ago. I mean just the audacity of you people. How can you blame something that happened decades ago for you being losers?” spits Dennis. This one man angrily stares at Dickerson for some reason.
“Yo, V-neck.” says Dennis “I ain't afraid of you.”
The man growls to himself, but he's overcome taking actions due to his anger. Although, I don't think anyone could blame him if he did throw a one, two punch.
“Well, Dennis, I don't think you understand the point of this little groupie here.” says a mighty flamboyant man who appears to be the instructor.
“We're here to make people feel better about their issues and share the joy of success when we overcome the temptations of being mean to people.”
The group nods in agreement, obviously this man knows how to 'rally the troops'. Much like Hitler thought Dennis.
“Well, Missster SSSir..” mimics Dickerson “I'm fine with who I am, and as a fellow faggot, I thought you'd know all about what we've been through all ready. Now I have someone who obviously wants to be himself and express myself, but won't let me be me. Now tell me you fabulous man, who's the bigot now?”
Once again an uncomfortable silence falls over the crowd. A few men seem to be won over by Dennis' little speech. Of course, the instructor didn't buy his lies. Gay? Bitch, please. You don't know the first thing about gay... bitch. Thought the instructor. Feeling that he's out of place, Dennis stands up from his chair.
“Welp, seems like it's about time for me to hit the ol' dusty trail..” Dennis' voice cracked.
“NO!” snapped the instructor “You sit your little booty down, mister. We're going to get to the bottom of your anger issues, you buttface!”
Obviously, he had been angered by The Dick's tactics, and he was about to be taken advantage of because of it. Dennis lets out a frail and insulted grunt.
“I never.. I've never been so insulted in my life! A buttface? Are you serious? You couldn't even think of something more impressive? I mean, I could sit here and call you assmaster, dick fingers, cum dumpster, the list goes on.”
“You're a real.. a real.. dick!” shouts the instructor.
Dennis grins as he turns his back to the group. He then spins around on his heel and looks back at the man.
“No, you're a dick.”
Dennis giggles and frolics away like a little school girl leaving everyone in the room speechless, that's his one talent.
He then finds himself on the street waiting for the walk signal to pop up. However, the light is taking forever and a day to change so he takes it upon himself to say “Fuck it.” Dennis begins to cross the street with traffic still zooming through. One man has to slam on his brakes so he wouldn't hit him.
“What's wrong with you? Are you fucking stupid?” screams the man.
Dennis looks his way and flips him off, grinning as he walks to the other side of the street. He jumps over the curb and finds himself closing in on a little coffee shop. People are sitting outside sipping from mugs, reading books or just leaning back and enjoying the nice day. A breeze swoops by and causes the yellow umbrellas that are shading the outdoor area to bounce back and forth in their holders. This breeze also blows a mans newspaper out of his hands. Sly as a fox, Dennis snaps the paper from the air, rips it in half and throws it back at the man.
“Thanks for nothing you fuckface!” shouts the old man. He voice crackles and shows every year of his age as he says “Don't you have anything better to do than be a dick?”
“As a matter of fact, no, no I do not. Do you have anything better to do then sit here and mope around because your kids hate you?” asks the man known as The Dick.
The old man bows his head and pouts after this statement. It may be true, it might not be, Dennis doesn't care. All he cares about is his day and how the wind is slowly messing up his hair. As he continues his walk he encounters an iHop. After he pushes open the door, he grabs a seat and eagerly taps on the table.
“May.. I help you.. sir?” asks the lucky waitress.
“Jesus Christ, those five little words took about a solid minute to flop out of your mouth. I don't have all day here. Fuck. So, here, I'll just tell you what I want and you write it down right away so I don't have to hear your droopy eyed face talk again.” bitches Dennis.
The waitress covers her face with the palm of her right hand and quickly walks away. Moments later you can hear sobbing in the background. A manager then walks over to the table Dennis has made his home.
“What's going on here, sir?” asks the all powerful manager.
“What's going on here” Dennis snaps “What's going on it I'm trying to get a fucking pancake platter with a whip cream smile on it, but instead of giving one shit about what my order is, this waitress just runs away to fuck her self, well, for all I know.”
He gets up out of his seat.
“So, I'm going to find myself another place to eat because this, my balding comb-overed friend, is some shit.” says the Dick.
Dennis storms out of the restaurant leaving anyone who had overheard this happening absolutely flabbergasted. One man, who must have some sort of crush on the shitty waitress, runs after Dennis.
“Bro, the fucks the matter with you? You wanna go?!” yells the brotastic douche.
“The only place I wanna go is somewhere away from your crater face. Seriously, I feel like I'm on the fucking moon. So why don't you go trot along and go frolfing with your 'bros'?” asks Dennis.
The douchebag seems to be taken back by this statement as not many people stand up to his meat head self. He rolls up the sleeves on his Affliction shirt and looks to be ready to, as they say, “go”. Of course, Dickerson isn't have any of it, he chuckles to himself and turns his back to the guy.
“I have better things to do with my day. There's a park not far from here, why don't you go fist yourself on the swing, eh?”giggles Dennis.
“That's it!” shouts Bro-man.
He charges in Dennis' direction and rears back his fist. When he's a foot behind him, he swings it forward. However, any numb-skulled fuck could see this from a mile away. The Dick had ducked causing DJ Fall-y D to trip forward and bash his face on the concrete below.
“I'd call an ambulance if I were you. I don't think any nose should be that flat. At least it covers up more of your face.” says Dennis as he continues his walk.
“You're a dick!” cries Bro-man.
“And you're a pussy who just got fucked by this dick!” screams Dennis.
“Damn, it feels good to be a dick.”
First promo since being back. Don't be too harsh.
