Name: Anonymous 2008-03-24 2:55
The mediocre novel without a title
Prologue
There he was, a young man in his 20’s. John Vivanti, he was called. He was a no body. No career. No car. No family. No pet. No life. And when I say he was a no body, I mean it. He had no body. Literally, he was dead. He was killed in a freak accident when a meteorite fell from the sky and pretty much destroyed most of the face of the planet. Almost everything was evaporated into nothingness. Only few survived, he was not one of them. May he rest in steam.
Jacobo Chan was not so lucky. No, seriously, he wasn’t. Being born half Mexican and half Chinese only made things worse for him. At school he could not really fit in. The Asians thought he was a stupid beaner, while the Mexicans thought he was a smartass f.o.b. So he had to be with the freaks of the freaks. No, I don’t mean that group at the corner of the lunch room wearing all black with long hair in hopes to cover their unattractiveness, lack of self-confidence, schizoid behavior among other problems every teenager suffers from. He would have loved to be in that group. But, due to uncalculated fate, he wasn’t. He was stuck with the Kings of the Freaks, those that didn’t fit anywhere else.
It was a very small group. There was Vladimir Armstrong, the giant; Eric Brownman, the poor genius; Jacobo Chan, the beans and rice special; and Mary Delacroix, the girl that hung out with the ABC’s. Out of all of them, she was the most normal looking one. She was with them because she was a transfer student, and only the ABC’s were the ones nice enough to talk to her. She grew fond of them, and stayed with them. Thus, becoming a freak. The ABC’s ceased to exist when she joined. They would now be known as the ABCD’s, Kings of Freaks. All of the group members pretty much had the same characteristics: smart, witty, a piece of crap for self-confidence, humility, no hope for the future, and a lovely ferocious masturbation schedule every night to internet porn. Yes, even Mrs. Delacroix.
That is not to say that they were very alike. Vladimir Armstrong was actually very handsome; medium length blonde hair with lots of gel, had a pointy chin, blue eyes, medium height; but he was a natural sociopath who hated humanity as a whole, and would sooner or later kill someone, but he loved his friends. Jacobo Chan, also known as Jacky Chon, was, for lack of a better word, odd. Had dark brown hair, brown skin, slightly above average IQ, beer bottle glasses, skinny, huge eyes, and a videogame addict. And I mean addict to the point of not playing for a day resulted in a severe case of withdrawal. Eric Brownman, also known as Eric Browman because of his huge unibrow, loved to read books about anything: From The Sex Tales of the Underworld to Philosophy of Applied Calculus on Religious Deities. He was a scrawny kid, measuring to 5 feet and 6 inches. Black short hair, thin lips, bunny teeth. Mary Delacroix, on the far opposite to everyone here, was a pretty average girl. White, easy on the eyes, dark brown long hair, cute, kind, smart, and had awesome firm C-cup boobs. You know, those that you just want to squeeze until your hands can no longer move; those that a new born would not mind sucking (or any old enough male, for that matter) all night long. Oh, sweet nectar of youth and puberty.
Mr. Chan’s life was pretty dull an uninteresting. That is, until hell broke loose; when the end of the world came and the final countdown arrived. Humanity was lost. Zero Hour. The end of days. The big bang (not to be confused with “your momma” jokes). Na na na na, na na na na, hey hey hey, goodbye. Etcetera.
Prologue
There he was, a young man in his 20’s. John Vivanti, he was called. He was a no body. No career. No car. No family. No pet. No life. And when I say he was a no body, I mean it. He had no body. Literally, he was dead. He was killed in a freak accident when a meteorite fell from the sky and pretty much destroyed most of the face of the planet. Almost everything was evaporated into nothingness. Only few survived, he was not one of them. May he rest in steam.
Jacobo Chan was not so lucky. No, seriously, he wasn’t. Being born half Mexican and half Chinese only made things worse for him. At school he could not really fit in. The Asians thought he was a stupid beaner, while the Mexicans thought he was a smartass f.o.b. So he had to be with the freaks of the freaks. No, I don’t mean that group at the corner of the lunch room wearing all black with long hair in hopes to cover their unattractiveness, lack of self-confidence, schizoid behavior among other problems every teenager suffers from. He would have loved to be in that group. But, due to uncalculated fate, he wasn’t. He was stuck with the Kings of the Freaks, those that didn’t fit anywhere else.
It was a very small group. There was Vladimir Armstrong, the giant; Eric Brownman, the poor genius; Jacobo Chan, the beans and rice special; and Mary Delacroix, the girl that hung out with the ABC’s. Out of all of them, she was the most normal looking one. She was with them because she was a transfer student, and only the ABC’s were the ones nice enough to talk to her. She grew fond of them, and stayed with them. Thus, becoming a freak. The ABC’s ceased to exist when she joined. They would now be known as the ABCD’s, Kings of Freaks. All of the group members pretty much had the same characteristics: smart, witty, a piece of crap for self-confidence, humility, no hope for the future, and a lovely ferocious masturbation schedule every night to internet porn. Yes, even Mrs. Delacroix.
That is not to say that they were very alike. Vladimir Armstrong was actually very handsome; medium length blonde hair with lots of gel, had a pointy chin, blue eyes, medium height; but he was a natural sociopath who hated humanity as a whole, and would sooner or later kill someone, but he loved his friends. Jacobo Chan, also known as Jacky Chon, was, for lack of a better word, odd. Had dark brown hair, brown skin, slightly above average IQ, beer bottle glasses, skinny, huge eyes, and a videogame addict. And I mean addict to the point of not playing for a day resulted in a severe case of withdrawal. Eric Brownman, also known as Eric Browman because of his huge unibrow, loved to read books about anything: From The Sex Tales of the Underworld to Philosophy of Applied Calculus on Religious Deities. He was a scrawny kid, measuring to 5 feet and 6 inches. Black short hair, thin lips, bunny teeth. Mary Delacroix, on the far opposite to everyone here, was a pretty average girl. White, easy on the eyes, dark brown long hair, cute, kind, smart, and had awesome firm C-cup boobs. You know, those that you just want to squeeze until your hands can no longer move; those that a new born would not mind sucking (or any old enough male, for that matter) all night long. Oh, sweet nectar of youth and puberty.
Mr. Chan’s life was pretty dull an uninteresting. That is, until hell broke loose; when the end of the world came and the final countdown arrived. Humanity was lost. Zero Hour. The end of days. The big bang (not to be confused with “your momma” jokes). Na na na na, na na na na, hey hey hey, goodbye. Etcetera.