Can't Finish What You Started
I'm Completely Bored with Every Single Word
Humans will do anything when they get bored enough. Ordinarily I don't even like fanfictions. I don't write them and on the rare occasion I decide to read them, I am often alarmed at overwhelming amounts of unoriginal and/or poorly written bullshit.
I mean what is so hard about writing something good? Good fanfiction! Is that such a complicated idea? One thing's certain original fiction of any kind, I fear, is in danger if my generation doesn't improve.
But anyway, I digress, as I often do. So, I did get bored enough one day and became oddly inspired, and I actually wrote one. It was epic, tragic, comedic; it was everything you could ever want to read basically. (which meant to me it was nothing at all.) It had all my favorite bands, but it was never intended to be anything... But hey, you know what they say about the best laid plans...
I left my sad scrap of worthless fiction on my desk and went to sleep. (Something I often did when I didn't have to work.) That stupid story made my dreams even crazier than usual. I soon awoke and upon seeing it I judged it too awful to ever be read. Yet, I didn't have the heart to throw it away. So I placed it in my tiny, disorganized file cabinet full of archived achievements and, in the section this particular piece was to go: utter failures and pathetic jokes. So there said sad scrap of fiction ended up, to remain ever unfinished...and I thought I was done with it after that...
That next morning I awoke to a strange, crazed ruckus. I got out of bed and trudged sleepily to the kitchen, still half asleep. I wasn't sleepy for long. I soon got the jolt of my life.
It was Justin Pierre and Billie Joe Armstrong! In my kitchen! And me, in my pjs and fuzzy bedhead, looking horridly unkempt and slouchy.
They were having what appeared to be an epic battle to the death on my kitchen table. They were using various pots, pans, and other utensils as weaponry. Surely, I was still dreaming. Nothing about this situation was the least bit probable or logical. Yet, it felt freakishly familiar...
"Waffles!" Billie Joe shouted, smacking Justin on the head with a spatula.
"No!" Justin got him back with a wooden spoon. "Pancakes!"
Somehow I found myself replying as though I saw these men in my kitchen all the time."Um, guys..." Still racket. "Hey!!"
"Oh my God! A Lady!" Justin said, pointing at me with his spoon.
"No, it's just Marrissa!" Billie Joe exclaimed, imitating Justin's pointing.
"Dude, how do you know my name?" I asked in complete shock.
"Uh...I'm not sure...weird...Well, anyway... Waffles own pancakes!" Billie Joe replied.
"Wait. Hold on something about this isn't right somehow," Justin said, appearing puzzled.
"Well,hey, maybe he's just psychic," I responded with a smile. Justin looked pretty cute in person and I mean that in a perfectly respectable, non-"teenie" way.
Justin smiled back, "He can predict the future!" Then things got oddly serious again. Justin stopped smiling and seemed to be thinking. Finally, he appeared to have found an answer although he seem vaguely dissatisfied with it. He paused before putting on one of his famous kooky expressions and rejoining Billie. "Pancakes own waffles times infinity!"
"Hold it! Hey!!" I got their attention. "Aren't they both basically the same?"
"Actually they really aren't," Billie Joe answered.
"Yeah, there's scientific evidence to back that up and everything," Justin added.
"Okay, well then...Can't you both just agree to disagree, I mean why debate it?" I replied.
"Because it's comical!" Justin said.
Suddenly it hit me that I was having a conversation with the lead singers of 2 of my favorite bands. "Dude, hold up. Is this really happening right here?"
In response the two started singing "This is For Real", one of my favorite Motion City Soundtrack songs.
"And how do you know the words to that, Billie?" I asked, alarmed at how casually I addressed my idol.
"I...I don't know...I guess just because it's awesome," he answered.
Justin beamed. "Awesome? Really? Aw, shucks, Billie, you flatterer!"
"Alright guys cool it, don't turn this into a slash-fic," I laughed. Then suddenly I had a crazy thought. I shook it off. Surely not! Things were pretty unreal, but...not like that. Maybe I just hit my head at some point that I can't recall and all this was a feverish hospital bed dream.
In the end the boys did finally agree to disagree. Billie had his waffles in peace and Justin happily munched on pancakes. Personally, I prefer cereal, and so it was in this fashion that I ate breakfast with basically the two most awesome people on the planet.
I mean what is so hard about writing something good? Good fanfiction! Is that such a complicated idea? One thing's certain original fiction of any kind, I fear, is in danger if my generation doesn't improve.
But anyway, I digress, as I often do. So, I did get bored enough one day and became oddly inspired, and I actually wrote one. It was epic, tragic, comedic; it was everything you could ever want to read basically. (which meant to me it was nothing at all.) It had all my favorite bands, but it was never intended to be anything... But hey, you know what they say about the best laid plans...
I left my sad scrap of worthless fiction on my desk and went to sleep. (Something I often did when I didn't have to work.) That stupid story made my dreams even crazier than usual. I soon awoke and upon seeing it I judged it too awful to ever be read. Yet, I didn't have the heart to throw it away. So I placed it in my tiny, disorganized file cabinet full of archived achievements and, in the section this particular piece was to go: utter failures and pathetic jokes. So there said sad scrap of fiction ended up, to remain ever unfinished...and I thought I was done with it after that...
That next morning I awoke to a strange, crazed ruckus. I got out of bed and trudged sleepily to the kitchen, still half asleep. I wasn't sleepy for long. I soon got the jolt of my life.
It was Justin Pierre and Billie Joe Armstrong! In my kitchen! And me, in my pjs and fuzzy bedhead, looking horridly unkempt and slouchy.
They were having what appeared to be an epic battle to the death on my kitchen table. They were using various pots, pans, and other utensils as weaponry. Surely, I was still dreaming. Nothing about this situation was the least bit probable or logical. Yet, it felt freakishly familiar...
"Waffles!" Billie Joe shouted, smacking Justin on the head with a spatula.
"No!" Justin got him back with a wooden spoon. "Pancakes!"
Somehow I found myself replying as though I saw these men in my kitchen all the time."Um, guys..." Still racket. "Hey!!"
"Oh my God! A Lady!" Justin said, pointing at me with his spoon.
"No, it's just Marrissa!" Billie Joe exclaimed, imitating Justin's pointing.
"Dude, how do you know my name?" I asked in complete shock.
"Uh...I'm not sure...weird...Well, anyway... Waffles own pancakes!" Billie Joe replied.
"Wait. Hold on something about this isn't right somehow," Justin said, appearing puzzled.
"Well,hey, maybe he's just psychic," I responded with a smile. Justin looked pretty cute in person and I mean that in a perfectly respectable, non-"teenie" way.
Justin smiled back, "He can predict the future!" Then things got oddly serious again. Justin stopped smiling and seemed to be thinking. Finally, he appeared to have found an answer although he seem vaguely dissatisfied with it. He paused before putting on one of his famous kooky expressions and rejoining Billie. "Pancakes own waffles times infinity!"
"Hold it! Hey!!" I got their attention. "Aren't they both basically the same?"
"Actually they really aren't," Billie Joe answered.
"Yeah, there's scientific evidence to back that up and everything," Justin added.
"Okay, well then...Can't you both just agree to disagree, I mean why debate it?" I replied.
"Because it's comical!" Justin said.
Suddenly it hit me that I was having a conversation with the lead singers of 2 of my favorite bands. "Dude, hold up. Is this really happening right here?"
In response the two started singing "This is For Real", one of my favorite Motion City Soundtrack songs.
"And how do you know the words to that, Billie?" I asked, alarmed at how casually I addressed my idol.
"I...I don't know...I guess just because it's awesome," he answered.
Justin beamed. "Awesome? Really? Aw, shucks, Billie, you flatterer!"
"Alright guys cool it, don't turn this into a slash-fic," I laughed. Then suddenly I had a crazy thought. I shook it off. Surely not! Things were pretty unreal, but...not like that. Maybe I just hit my head at some point that I can't recall and all this was a feverish hospital bed dream.
In the end the boys did finally agree to disagree. Billie had his waffles in peace and Justin happily munched on pancakes. Personally, I prefer cereal, and so it was in this fashion that I ate breakfast with basically the two most awesome people on the planet.