Something Diabolical.

This is what I write when I'm not working on my other project.

I realized how the night is better than the day. It’s nice to know that you are awake when other people are, when they live on the other side of the world. You can talk to Australians about Vegemite without being an outcast, talk to those who match you, but aren’t anywhere near. Of course, time zones exist.

This is where time and space bends you over and gives it to you, doesn’t even let you bite the pillow. If you cry, you get slapped and told to man up. That’s why I ultimately changed my sleeping pattern, and that’s also the reason why I’m poor. Nearly everything that goes through my digestive system is Top Ramen, and I burnt three of my pans cooking ramen.

I have amassed to being the world leader in kills in Call Of Duty: Modern Warfare Three, and deaths. My personal record in the game QWOP is 27 meters, which I think is near impossible. Basically, I have all the time in the world. I could watch all of Nic Cage’s movies if I wanted to, but I already did that.

Currently, I’m busy doing something else. I found this new trivia site called FunTrivia, and it sure is fun. Playing non stop trivia, pitting my knowledge of my favorite things to a 10 question quiz. It takes up my free time, helping me gain knowledge. For example, I know The George Lopez Show more than anyone else in the world.

There’s this hob-knocker who thinks he knows more than me. He goes by the name of “NanWrecker68”, and is currently second in the world rankings, right behind me. Nan would constantly message me saying that “I’m using illegal steroids” and “Using Google like a cheap bastard”. He’s wrong about both of them. Steroids harm my body, and Bing is a better search engine.

The sound of a message comes from my laptop. I swipe my finger on my grimy mouse up to the FunTrivia tab. The tab is flashing the words “New message(s)”, and I left click on it. It seems that I have got a message from the legendary NanWrecker68 himself. This time he uses InstaMessage, as he is more of a private type of guy.

NanWrecker68 (1:36 AM): I hope you burn in hell.

ToyStory2WasOkay (1:37 AM): I’ll probably burn well, then.

NanWrecker68 (1:37 AM): I hope you drop the soap when you go to prison.

ToyStory2WasOkay (1:38 AM): No, I’m going to be the guy knocking soap out of other’s hands.

It has been two minutes since Nan sent a message. I go back to my casual stalking of my friend’s Facebook profiles. Once I started searching up my ex-girlfriend, the message alert went off again.

NanWrecker68 (1:40 AM): Not if I knock it out of your hands first!

I don’t respond for a minute, as I can’t type while I’m laughing.

ToyStory2WasOkay (1:41 AM): Eh, I don’t like wining and dining so I’m good. Bro, stop fighting this useless fight. Adios, loser.

I close the tab and I start laughing. I honestly wonder what Nan looks like. Whether it’s a giant or a 5’4 guy living with his mother, doesn’t matter. I can’t really think of anything right now, as it’s been 74 hours since I last slept. My mind has been going all over the place.

Speaking of David Schwimmer, pizza sounds delicious right now.

I slide the mouse over the small x and I softly left click it. This fails to close the tab, so I click it again. My laptop screen goes black, followed by my TV, then my lights. That is awfully weird, as I accidentally melted my light socket plugging in a light bulb so no light has been on for 38 hours.

My screen turns on again, this time to a bedroom with movie posters on the wall. A man with a blond afro walks in. He is currently wearing a banana suit with fairy wings on. In his left hand he is holding a bag of pretzels, while a back scratcher is in the other hand. “My Hump” by The Black Eyed Peas starts playing.

The banana pours the pretzels over his head with a straight face, moving his hips in a circular motion. He holds the scratcher with two hands in front of him, takes a deep breath, then swings it towards his head. Right before the back scratcher was going to land, the screen changes to a Richard Nixon mask.

“I’m here to wreck your nan!” The voice screamed. I jump back in my chair, sending it backwards. I slam into my wall, causing my neck to snap back. My chair is swept under me, causing me to stand up. I’m staring at the Nixon mask, which seems like it is taunting me. My room turns dim and red, and the mask disappears, showing the face of a goat.

“To survive, you need to kill Cthulhu with that axe on your bed!” The goat screams with a sick laughter. I look over to find a rubber finger on the cot. I slip the extension on and turn around to find an abyss. A big figure comes out. This is no Cthulhu, it’s much worse. It’s Godzilla, but not just any Godzilla.

The 1998 Godzilla.

The creature charges towards me. Its plastic like features and girly roar doesn’t scare me at all. Godzilla stops right in front me. I’m standing with my chest up and head held high, with a smirk. We have an intense stare down while Celine Dion is blasting in the background. I hold my rubber finger up high and I poke Godzilla. The creature explodes.

I bang my head as I land on the ground. I look up to find that guy with the blonde afro donning a costume representing Ryu from Street Fighter. Ryu puts the bottom of his hands together, lifts up his left leg, and starts humming. He does that for five minutes.

“FOS RU DAH!” Ryu screams as he thrusts his hands towards me. Something hits me, sending me back for an endless fall. I start closing my eyes, thinking of life. How the hell is this possible? Is NanWrecker68 behind this? Right as I conjure questions for the future, I wake up.

“Hal! Are you awake?” A nagging voice screams in my ear. I look over to find Lois from Malcolm In The Middle. I look at the others at the table. It consists of Dewy, Malcolm, Reese, and Raj from The Big Bang Theory. I stare at them, then I sigh.

Sleep exists for a reason, kids.