the Andrew Bailey

My Freaky Dream, Part 2

I think I haven't made you wait long enough for this. I had to wait almost forever to get it, but I don't want to have it lying around anymore. And now the stunning conclusion:

I jumped on him getting ready to turn him into hash browns with extra ketchup. Jeremy tried to stop me, and nearly succeeded, but I threw him off and again raised my fist. Jeremy finally succeeded in stopping me, and tried to talk some sense into me, telling me all I had gained from joining the marines. At this point, Andrew woke up, and was instantly on his feet trying to calm me down.

The first words out of my mouth are as follows: "Give me back my money, you insane psychotic money-mongering miser!" You could probably guess that he wasn't a bit surprised.

He said in a calm voice, "Now, listen, I admit I did something wrong. But I'll make it up to you! I promise!"

I replied, "HOW? DID YOU MAKE A TIME MACHINE SO I CAN GO BACK AND NOT HAVE TO JOIN THE STUPID MARINES?"

"No, but I'll pay you back somehow! I swear on my mother's grave!"

"Your mother ain't dead yet!"

"Fine, granny's grave!"

"Fine! Give me my trillion dollars now!"

"Well, I kinda spent most of it..."

"You spent 2 trillion dollars? On what could you possibly spend 2 trillion dollars!?"

"Well... 2½ billion Radeon 9800 XTs perhaps..."

"You spent it all on graphics cards!? How dumb is that?"

"Well, then I gave most of my expensive possessions to the poor in Africa!"

"Right, like THEY can use GRAPHICS CARDS!"

At this point Jeremy came in. "Andrew, you know you have to pay him back, so how do you plan to do that?"

"Well, I guess I could give him a few million graphics c-"

"I want money, the green stuff! I can't buy a house or a car or food or clothes or anything with graphics cards!"

"OK, OK! I'll get you your stupid money!"

"You have 2 weeks. End of conversation." I then proceeded to kick him out of the restroom. Jeremy and I washed, then went out into the stadium, where they were currently swimming an Olympic race.

Jeremy walked over to a woman, who looked strangely familiar to me. He introduced me to her, she was his wife, Cheyenne. He told me that the kids at Mom's house were his. Anyways, we made our way back to the restaurant, where Mom was sitting alone, with what looked like dirty dishes in front of her.

She looked up from reading a magazine, and simply said, "Well, you boys took awhile." I was kinda sad that I had taken so long, but, oh well. She got us some takeout, and we went home.

After awhile, I was walking in one of those cornfields, and I suddenly realized that Chinese food goes straight through you in about 5 minutes. I really had to go! I was still walking, when I came upon an outhouse in the middle of the field. I entered, but there was no toilet. There was just a big hole with a ladder. I climbed down the ladder, and after what seemed to be around 5 hours, I hit the ground.

I seemed to be in some sort of top secret research facility. There were computers, X-ray machines, and all sorts of fancy junk.

As I was looking around, I suddenly heard a really odd sound that seemed to be like a duck screaming. I turned around, and there was this dude running at me screaming at the top of his lungs and shouting incomprehensibly at me. He had blond hair (probably bleached), and lips the size of Montana coming out and forming what looked like a bill. No wonder he sounded weird.

He, err... it finally stopped long enough to take a breath, and at that point in time, I tried to communicate with him, err... it. "Who or what are you, and where am I?"

"YOUAREINMYTOPSECRETRESEARCHLAB!"

"Slow down!"

He took a deep breath and said, "This is the ultra-top-secret dung beetle research facility! SO PLEASE LEAVE!"

"Dung beetle? You know, you remind me of someone... someone named Paul Mackler..."

"Uh... that's... that's... me... so... who are... you? And how did you know about this lab?"

"I had to... relieve myself... and my name is Robert... remember me? I've been in the marines for 7 or so years." After getting a blank look from him, I simply grabbed the back of his neck (he was always really sensitive there) and squeezed.

"OK, OK!!! I REMEMBER NOW! OW!"

"Good..." I dropped him on the floor. "So, why are you researching dung beetles? I mean, what good could possibly come out of them?"

He led me to the storage chamber/dining room. "So, you have billions of dung beetles running around in a glass box... what for?"

"Well, actually they are very useful... everything in the lab is made out of dung beetles..."

"Everything? How about those computers I saw?"

"Those too..."

Just then, his brother entered. He was just about as tall as I remember, he had widened out a little (probably didn't have dung beetle gym equipment), and had blond hair too. When he saw me, he started scolding Paul for letting me in, but I interrupted.

"Actually, I came in by myself... Jacob."

"Y-Y-Y-You know my name?"

"Duh, it's me... Robert."

Again, blank stare.

"Jones? I went into the marines for 7 years because Andrew Bailey lied to me about the profit that we made on our game?" I sighed.

After awhile, he remembered me. We started talking about different things, catching up, when Paul offered me a sandwich.

"Uh, no thanks... I don't like dung beetle..."

"No. No. Turkey!"

"Turkey? Where would you get turkey?"

"Well... artificial turkey flavored dung beetle cr--"

"No thanks."

After awhile, we got onto the subject of why they would possibly start a dung beetle research lab.

Paul replied, “Well, we couldn't get any other job... and just think of all of the possibilities! I mean, we've made so many breakthroughs! We've done so much with... so... little... Look at this!”

We moved over to a counter where they had several items. Jacob picked one up. “Coke, right?”

I slowly replied, “Right...”

“It's made out of the dung beetle's dung!”

I replied, “If you guys start marketing that, I'm never getting coke again.”

We then walked over to the cage where they had built a habitat for the dung beetles. I noticed a few strips of duck tape on the glass. I asked what it was there for, and was informed that a few months earlier, the dung beetles had broke out. They said that they were still finding them wandering around.

That's all “Robert” wrote. Apparently the dream went on for quite a ways more. Eventually, when Robert got back on the road in the middle of nowhere (presumably in a dung beetle dungmobile), there was a cow driving down the road. It was on the moped from earlier, but now it had some purple article of clothing dangling from it. Supposedly, Bill met his fate while riding his moped to somewhere, then somehow got eaten by a cow. Or something like that. I don't know if Andrew ever gave him that money. Sucker!

Posted under Literature.

You can't complain about this anymore. It's perfect!