"Is that the new kid?"
"Yeah. Poor guy. Father said he went from completely normal to this in several months."
"What is several months, anyway? Two?"
"Yeah, but it's close to three in this case."
"So... not several?"
"Hush up. This young man seemed to have started drawing pretty bad-looking drawings on everything when he got a chance with that red paint marker."
"Bad? As in scary?"
"Yeah, but I was referring more to the quality. Handwriting just became a bunch of scribbles, but you can still see 'DUMB KID' and 'GOOD JOKE, MAN', pointing to what can be assumed as a bad scribble of himself."
"I know. His dad just thought to keep him home from school a couple days. You know, get things settled. Instead seemed to rattle him up more. Even when he ran out of paint just continued with a permanent marker."
"On the walls?"
"Holy goddamn shit. A 17-year-old?"
"Just turned about two days ago. When he was driven over to the plane that brought him here, he was screaming about how he wasn't going to get psychoanalyzed and such. And do you know what's the odd thing about it?"
"He mentioned this other kid's name. In full. Rose."
"Does he know her?!"
"I don't know. Sounds like it, but the odds..."
"Yeah, and the other two. Goddamn this is shitty luck right here."
The two doctors continued on with their little conversation, the young man in question had woken up to a strange bed. Not that he didn't remember falling asleep in it the night before, but rather wasn't expecting waking up to this!
"Goddammit, dad." John uttered. "This is even worse than those shitty cakes four years ago." He started chuckling, "Dear God, I'm nuts. Nuts enough to write all over tax forms, nuts enough to talk to myself, nuts enough to have voices in my head tell me what to do and keep me up all the goddamn time, but still sane enough to realize I'm nuts... and STILL nuts enough to laugh at all this. Dear God. I'm outta here, Jailbreak sty-"
"John, are you up?"
"John, you're up, I can tell from the failed soliloquy."
"Anyway, here's a towel and some shampoo just outside the door. Use it or there'll be no cake for you."
Cake. The young doctor learned new swears that day, but at least it got an otherwise physically filthy man out of bed and, after some coaxing, into a shower.
John was lying in bed several days before on orders from his father, and hating every second of it. Every moment of inactivity, of not doing something, was a guarantee that those voices smother his conscious, break his will, and otherwise destroy himself from the inside out. When he explained the situation to his online friends, he expected some sort of sympathy from at least Rose and Jade, as well as ironic chastising from Dave. While it did happen, John could tell from various comments and utterings that his friends were more concerned with themselves. He got up to check those particular logs, which he had done so quite a few times since the correspondences stopped.
TG: bro. you sound like two steps away from being a joker.
TG: not like a haha joker. im talkin about batshit joker.
TG: bane of men in tights.
TG: you'll be all up in gay man grills, making jokes on sexuality and shit.
TG: don't go that way bro. no. don't do it.
TG: there's way too many dongs unnecessarily flapping about on this earth.
TG: gog, the smuppets.
TG: a whole bunch of superhero smuppets. each with foamy dongs and rumps brushing each other.
TG: crossing swords in both senses.
EB: dude, your bro still has those things?
TG: get these goddamn smuppets away from me, john. my bro must love these things.
EB: he needs to get laid.
TG: dude. he does. no doubt with those things.
TG: the mental images won't brush off.
EB: im sorry.
TG: you'd better. i'm up to my neck in naked puppets and you're bitching about gogdamn voices. deal with it like a man.
TG: not like a whiny fucking woman on the rag.
[TG] has stopped pestering [EB] at 16:13
Dave and Rose seemed to be on less and less, which perturbed John, but he simply attributed that to having less time as a result of school, jobs, and the like.
TT: Sounds like you're subconscious is trying to tell you something. Something that if you were to consciously know would either drive you nearer towards insanity or a revelation.
EB: gee thanks for the comfort.
TT: Quite easily hypergraphia. Though whether the hidden conflict is the source or some other disorder is present is still a mystery.
EB: I KEEP TELLING YOU I DONT DO THAT HA HA HA HA HA
EB: IT WAS THE GODDAMN IMPS
EB: HA HA HA I DONT WRITE SHIT ROSE CAN WE GET BACK TO THE FUCKING VOICES?
EB: BECAUSE THE THOUGH OF RUINING MY OWN SHIT IS HILARIOUS
TT: John, I'm sorry for derailing the topic, but I'm going through mental issues of myself right now. I need to figure out my own shit.
EB: what's up?
TT: It's not like any of the subconscious ramblings your mind is attempting to understand or otherwise vent out.
TT: It's mother, again.
TT: Passive-aggressive oneupsmanship, to be more precise.
EB: oh yeah. your mother being a bitch as usual?
TT: Yeah, you can call it that.
TT: Anyway, I have to go and feed Mutie.
EB: how is mutie?
TT: Vodka Mutini's doing well, but my mom's been using her as another tool for her passive-aggressive campaign.
TT: She asks me if Mutini's exactly like Jaspers.
TT: And even got another mausoleum built when he dies.
EB: oh dear.
EB: well i'll let you go now. see ya.
TT: Thanks John. Hope you figure out what the voices are trying to tell you. And don't worry, I've been psychoanalyzing everyone else my whole life. I'm sure I can handle myself.
[TT] has stopped pestering [EB] at 13:04
No doubt that would happen eventually. People have lives to live, people to see, things to do, and this time in their lives would no doubt be pretty busy.
GG: oh noooo! D:
GG: john i am so sorry!
GG: but maybe this is good for you
EB: what are you talking about jade?
EB: am i talking to your creepy dreambot again?
GG: of course not john!
GG: youre trying to tell yourself something
GG: something very important!!!
EB: what could it be
GG: it could be a ton of things, john :3
GG: im going through weird brainy-type stuff as well!
GG: and i think i'm coming close to figuring it all out!
EB: you too?
EB: god, everyone's having problems lately
GG: i know!!!
GG: dave has to deal with all those icky puppets :(
GG: and rose's mom is insane!!
EB: well, anyway, what do you think about me
GG: lets see...
[GG] disconnected from [EB] at 04:13
But when Jade was getting hard to get in contact with was when John realized that maybe this online nakama of sorts, that had saved the world at one time, that he had physically touched, was falling apart. It hurt John, but he eventually came to the conclusion that people drift apart with time and move on to new people to be friends with, and he should move on as well. Originally, he thought the voices had subsided. He thought that maybe his friends weren't really his friends, and the voices were trying to tell him this. But instead, several weeks ago, they came back in spades. They had became powerful to the point of VERY FUNNY KID YOU COULD BE A REAL COMEDIAN SOME DAY WITH THAT LITTLE ROUTINE OF YOURS.
NO REALLY, KID. THAT ACT OF YOURS IS STUNNING.
YOU COULD SERIOUSLY BE THE NEXT CHARLIE CHAPLIN WITH THAT.
I NEVER SEEN SUCH A KID BE ABLE TO PULL OFF ALL OF THE INTRICACIES OF PROP COMEDY SO WELL.
HAHA SO DUMB
SERIOUSLY YOU'RE SUCH A GODDAMN IDIOT THAT EVEN BABIES ARE SMARTER THAN YOU.
"Holy crap! John! My TAXES! THEY'RE DUE IN FOUR DAYS! AAGH!"
John had been making a sandwich when his father showed the now-ruined tax forms his father was holding. Scrawled drawings and words of deriding nature were haphazardly spread across each and every page, making the whole document useless. John took a look through them all. He didn't see the bright red markings, just an otherwise normal tax document.
"What are you talking about? Those papers are CLEAN!"
"This behavior is out of control!"
"What behavior? The only thing wrong is freaking voices telling me I suck!"
YOU DO KID
"...I'm calling a doctor."
"Oh, goddammit, not this, dad! THIS ISN'T FUNNY!"
THIS IS HILARIOUS
YOU ARE LIKE FUCKING ROBIN WILLIAMS WITH THIS
YOU CHARLIE CHAPLIN PRO
I LOVE THIS GUY
John shook his head, "...enough..." he muttered.
HAHAHAHA YOU CRACK ME UP
SERIOUSLY, YOU SUCK
YOU CAN BE THE NEXT FAILURE
THE NEXT FAILURE OF COMEDY
"NO GODDAMMIT NO. JUST STOP!" John had ran back to his room, and continued to yell, totally unaware of the marker he applied to wall.