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Impulse Reality 017
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____ ____ ____
| || |\ \
| || |/____/ Kung Fu Timothy!
| || |\ \ ir file number 017
|____||____| |____| released 07.21.00
| || |\| | by nawleed and linear
|____||____| |____| we're just fucking with your mind.
impulse reality
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timothy sat on the side of his bed contemplating the day's events.
all in all it had been a good day. during dinner he had refused to eat his
brussels sprouts. his mother yelled at him, as she always did, but she didn't
shove the sprouts down his throat like usual, which he was thankful for.
timothy's mother got extremely upset whenever timothy refused to eat his
brussels sprouts, and even more so when she saw how timothy responded to her
abuse.
"if you don't want them shoved down your throat, why don't you just
eat them?" she'd always ask.
"i don't like brussels sprouts," timothy would reply.
Timothy was sick and tired of his mother's abuse. Oh how he wished
that he could hop on his bike and ride far, far away from home. Leaving his
problems, his mother, the physical abuse, and those damn brussels sprouts
behind him. They would be only a memory of a past he would soon forget, once
he found his new home, new friends, and a new alternative vegetable. But poor
little Timothy could not just hop on his bike and make his problems go away,
for little timothy was born with only one leg! Peddling his bike for any
distance was a great challenge to Timothy, and an overly exhausting task.
Timothy did not know what to do. "Damn that bitch for smoking so much crack
after she got knocked up," Timothy thought. "If only i knew my father!"
if timothy had known who his father was, he might have reconsidered
that thought. timothy's father, as it happened, was a hobo named dan. dan
often thought about the son he left behind, and whether he would be critical
of the lifestyle his father had chosen. yes, dan, unlike most hobos, was a
hobo not by consequence but by choice. he enjoyed the thrill involved in
going wherever the trains he jumped on would take him. he was also
continually forced to eat out of the garbage and use dead rodents as pillows.
he didn't like that part so much.
"I wish I had a pet goldfish," Timothy said to himself. "I would
teach it to eat human flesh, that would show that bitch of brussels sprout
tyranny!"
Meanwhile, Dan lie in the gutter eating a half eaten sandwich he
had found in a trashcan which had appeared to be infested with some sort of
larva.
"I wish my son could be here to celebrate with me the joy of this
marvelous occassion. Eleven years ago this day, my first, and only son (to my
knowledge), Timothy Edwin was born. Without a leg. I had forgotten about that
part. Damn. I hope the little bastard suffers."
You see, it was nine years ago, when Timothy was only but two years
of age (the most critical years of a young one) when Dan could no longer face
the shame of having the weirdest looking baby in town. It was at that time
Dan had decided a life of trainhopping would be more rewarding than living a
life of ridcule with his ugly, ugly son. Who only had one leg.
dan, hateful and selfish person that he was, never stopped to think
about the psychological damage that growing up without a father would cause
timothy. at the time, timothy didn't know why his father had left, and didn't
learn the truth until much later in life. at this moment, the thoughts in
timothy's mind, which had been pleasant mere moments ago, were full of
confusion.
why did my father leave? timothy thought. and why does my mother
insist on feeding me food i obviously don't want to eat? he thought about it,
and decided that he might feel better if he used some words that he didn't
use very often, young as he was.
"FUCK!" he screamed. "SHIT! ASSHOLE!"
he heard his mother's footsteps in the hall. he somehow got the
feeling that she wasn't happy.
"WHAT DID YOU SAY??" Timothy's mom screamed as she bust in the door
of young Timothy's room
"Uh...uh.. nothing, mom!"
"Well, it's not important anyway, I guess, nothing you do is
important. You'll never amount to anything, Timothy, and you're a disgrace to
this family, and to the Lord. Mamma's going out tonight. I'll be back around
three, you got that?
"Yes mom."
"Good, fuck face." She said as she turned towards the door to leave
for the night.
"Wait, mom.... am I ugly?" Timothy asked sincerely.
"Timothy, how many times do I have to tell you? It doesn't matter
what you look like. You see, Timothy, no girls ever going yo see past the
fact that you only have one leg. You'll never find love timothy, you're a
buffoon just like that deadbeat father of yours. Mamma, on the other hand, is
going out for a little loving for herself tonight. Goodbye, you ugly little
creep." and with that, his mother was gone.
timothy didn't know why his mother told him what time she would be
back, because there was no way he'd be awake when she got home. he simply
wasn't able to stay up that late, no matter how hard he tried. his mother
liked him to be home when she got home for some reason, though. timothy
didn't understand why, but if he wasn't awake when his mother got home, she
usually woke him up and yelled at him, then went to bed. timothy often
wondered what his mother would do if he was ever awake when she got home. it
had never happened before...
Timothy told himself that this time, he'd do it. He'd be awake when
his mother came home. He'd looked through his mother's cabinet for some
of those caffine pills his mom always talked about before she left late at
night. He was never allowed to have them before because his mom said she
needed them for herself, and that they were bad for little boys. She didn't
want him to get even uglier, she would tell him.
timothy located his mother's caffeine pills without much difficulty.
they were in the top drawer of her dresser, next to her underwear. timothy
didn't like digging through his own mother's underwear drawer, but he was
desperate.
he opened the bottle of pills and poured a few into his hand. he
filled up a glass of water, placed the pills in his mouth, and downed them
all at once. after a while he became aware that he was twitching all over. he
tried to fight it, but it was useless. oh well, he thought, at least i'll be
awake when mom gets back.
Meanwhile, Dan was sleeping in a freight train heading towards a city
in Idiana. Dan was dreaming of what it would be like he had never left his
wife, or his one-legged son. The dream portrayed his decission to leave as
the worst choice he had ever made. When he was with his family, he was
always happy, but here, always on the go, the only time he was happy was
when he was fortunate enough to find a scrap of half-eaten food. What have I
done, Dan thought to himself as he woke up almost in tears.
at that point, a snobbish literary critic named augustus assumed the
roll of god and said in a booming voice that could be heard all around the
world, by timothy, timothy's mother, dan, and, most importantly, by this
story's authors, linear and nawleed:
"I AM AUGUSTUS THE LITERARY CRITIC. THIS STORY WAS OBVIOUSLY WRITTEN
WITH NO REGARD TO PLOT OR CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT. IT IS THE PRODUCT OF A
COUPLE OF BORED TEENAGERS WHO CAN'T WRITE. I WILL NOW USE MY MAD KUNG FU
SKILLS TO DESTROY IT."
timothy, still shaking from the caffeine pills, looked up from his
spot on the floor, and saw him: short and pudgy, with greasy hair and thick
glasses, decked out in kung fu garb, augustus the critic. without hesitation
timothy, momentarily ignoring the fact that he only had one leg, jumped to
his feet.
"YOU HAVE DISGRACED THE NAME OF MY FATHER," he said. "PREPARE TO
DIE."
"AHAHAHA," augustus replied, "IT IS YOU WHO WILL DIE, FOR MY KUNG FU
IS BETTER THAN YOUR KUNG FU."
"KYAAAAAAHHHH!"
"KUYAAAAAAAAA!"
as timothy and augustus prepared to fight, jackie chan appeared out
of nowhere and kicked both of their asses with his NEW FISTS OF FURY. he
then left for his mansion in hollywood where he and all his fine-ass honies
lived happily ever after.
THE END.
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