A Cautionary Tale

Thu, 07/15/2004 — Fasteriskhead

My arms and legs were like mud, only making lazy, halfhearted efforts to obey any commands I sent them. It had seemingly always been this way, but somewhere in the back of my mind something whispered, with increasing assurance, that once I'd been a man, that once I'd had a life... but that was all over now and it had all long since left my memory, blown away by the harsh mountain winds the same as the dust. My opponent, the one in the red, held an expression as grim and hopeless as my own; if he had ever told me his name, then I had forgotten it eons ago. It didn't matter anyways, as all we were ever made to do was fight. We did battle like blinded retards flailing at wasps, like action figures being slammed into each other with our plastic limbs wildly rotating around a single axis. As the guy in blue with the grimace yelled "BEGIN!" and we stumbled forward ready to completely embarrass ourselves once more for the trillionth time, like a shot from the dark realization slammed into my head: that dude up there is the devil, and I am in hell.


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