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The Hogs of Entropy 0221
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>> "The Never-ending Story of Norman, a Guy Who
Hates Fishing and Eats A Lot of Haggis" <<
by -> RM
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Part One
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Norman got up. It was a pretty average Sunday morning. He had a
pullover buzz from all the pot he'd been smoking the night before. It was a
good pullover, though - the kind that hummed and made him want to do shit.
Understanding that, it is logical that Norman would get out of bed and say
to himself, "I think I'll go do shit." Which is what he did.
Norman went downstairs to the kitchen. He looked at the wall for a
long time. He didn't know why - he just liked the wall. Maybe it had
something to do with the massive grease stains etched into the plaster.
Eventually, his mother, who was also zoned out because she was taking a lot
of Prozac to recover from the death of her poodle, Mitzi, noticed him.
"Good morning, hon," she said. "Want some haggis?"
"Suck my ass it smells," said Norman.
"Okay, hon."
Part Two
--------
Norman finished eating his haggis and headed out to go to the
supermarket. He had to buy more cow intestines and a nice juicy sheep's
heart so his mom could make him more haggis. On his way to the store,
Norman decided to smoke more pot. He loaded his bullet and finished off two
bowls before reaching the place which some might have denoted as a candidate
for quite possibly being the location where a man might have built a
structure that could be construed as a grocery store, i.e., supermarket.
Inside the store, Norman saw a big isle filled with spatulas. Oh,
how he loved spatulas. You see, Norman had his own spatula at home that he
often used to lift his haggis from the pot. He preferred a spatula with
little holes in it, because it allowed the blood to drain out and gave him
pure, unadulterated, 100% haggis. Norman might have bought another spatula
then and there, but he couldn't because he only had just enough money to get
the animal guts. He *did* have his priorities, after all.
As he neared the meat counter, many people stared at him with a
demeaning look. "Hee hee," they said, "it's the haggis boy!" Norman just
stared back and walked up to the counter.
The guy who sold the haggis to him smiled and said, "Hee hee, haggis
boy, do you like eating haggis all the time?"
"Suck my ass it smells," said Norman.
"Hee hee, but why would I suck your ass? What does it smell like?"
"Haggis."
"Hee hee, why does it smell like haggis?"
"Because I shove the haggis up my ass before I eat it."
It was true. All true. Norman had what the doctors called a phallic
obsession. They said it had something to do with the way he was born.
Apparently when he came out of the womb, the doctor, while meaning to cut
the umbilical cord, had mistakenly lopped off about half his penis. They
had been able to repair the damage, but it was still a lot shorter than it
should have been. Ever since, though, he had grown a passion for putting
penis-shaped objects up his ass. He wasn't gay; he just liked sticking
things up his ass. It happens, ya know. It happens all the time.
Norman grabbed his haggis and gave the evil man the money, then left
the store, but not before taking one last longing look at the spatulas.
Part Three
----------
As Norman drove home, he started thinking about his car. He had a
decent enough car, he supposed. It was shiny and blue. It had no horns or
lights, however, but that was okay with him because it meant that when he
was out doing a drug deal at night he could cut off his lights and not worry
about people seeing him. The car also had a shitty sound system. The
speakers were really old and half busted, but he had a 5-disc changer in the
back that he used. He always had the same five CDs in it - Pieces Of You
(Jewel), The Craft soundtrack, Aenima (Tool), Breathless (Kenny G), and the
TMNT soundtrack. Needless to say, people made fun of Norman for his shitty
music. Girls thought he was a wussy boy. He didn't care. He preferred to
ride around and smoke pot while he listened to Kenny G than to get laid.
About ten miles from his house, Norman saw a pond in a small patch of
woods. He decided to go out there and smoke another bowl before he went
home. He got out of the car, took his drugs and drug paraphernalia with
him, and sat on a large clump of fungus that was growing on a tree trunk.
As he was about to light his bowl, he heard sloshing sounds from the middle
of the little pond. It was a fisherman.
Norman HATED fishermen. He was convinced they were evil. They
killed fish in the most evil way - by making them suffocate themselves to
death. Eating haggis was different, because the animal was already dead
when they got the organs, and besides, they killed the cows and sheep
quickly with a gun or knife; but killing and eating a fish was downright
cruel. A tear appeared in the corner of Norman's eye. He wiped it away and
threw his bowl down on the ground.
"Hey, there, buddy," said the fisherman. "Come out here to fish?"
"Suck my ass it smells," screamed Norman.
The fisherman laughed and then said, "What's that, sonny? Your truck
has a bass smell? You musta been fishing alot!"
"SUCK MY ASS IT SMELLS!," he screamed again, a bit louder.
"Oh! Well, then, have a nice day!"
Norman grabbed his shit, walked slowly back to his car, finished his
bowl, listened to a few Jewel songs, and then went home.
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COMING SOON IN THE NEVER-ENDING STORY OF NORMAN:
Norman goes to Disneyland.
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* (c) HoE publications. HoE #221 -- written by RM -- 4/3/98 *
