Welcome to the first issue of Amazingly Short Stories, the notoriously unknown underground publication which never disappoints in the form of riveting, soul-tickling tales. Today our theme is a “Guide to Extreme Living.” Through the stories of the following three people, we see a dedication to extreme living (ed. note – whatever the fuck that is, anyway) which is uncommon in today’s society. We hope you find these stories useful in shaping your own attitudes toward extreme living.
Nearly Miss Oklahoma
Jenny looked into her bathroom mirror. What she saw both amazed and repulsed her. Though, in all fairness, she was once an attractive woman (as her 4th place showing in the Miss Oklahoma beauty pageant of 1990 taught her), she had really started to let things go. Yet in the mire of her worn and ugly reflection, she could recall a history of independence and rebellion. Once recognised by everyone in her small rural community to be the hottest shit in town, her foray into local socialist politics caused her to experience wholesale ostracisation. After attempting to establish a public bus system, a public library, a public rubbish and recycling collection service, and a generous city welfare program for the poorer inhabitants, she was run out of the town with pitchforks and assault rifles.
“...And don’t ever come back!” yelled Pastor Robbins, who led the pack and aimed a pitchfork at Jenny with his right hand and a bow and arrow with his left. “Your proposals would have bankrupted us into the ground, you big government whore!” another impassioned citizen added. Running frantically for her dear life, Jenny began to question why she had ever bothered trying to alleviate the disparity between the rich and the poor where she had lived. She went on to get a real job in a real city where real socialists lived. Jenny never forgot about how she had been mistreated, though, and once spent five years attempting to develop a bomb to rid her home town of its ignorant yokels.
She has been able to find happiness in two things: the philosophical musings of Karl Marx, and, later on, Heidi Klum’s astounding set of six products (‘In an Instant’) which hide the visible effects of aging on your skin. For only five payments of $49.95 (not including shipping & handling), you too can enjoy the solace that has been afforded to Jenny!
Dealing with Cancerous Lumps (the Heroic Way)
My bumps, my lumps? I have strange bumps and lumps all over my body and I don’t know where they came from. What I do know is that I don’t take shit from anyone, even these mysterious items on my skin. They could be tumors, and I fucking hate cancer. I’m gonna take care of this shit right now.
Necessary items? Scissors, knife, tissues, towel, rubbing alcohol. I take the scissors to my lumps and make an incision, but the scissors are blunt and I require the assistance of the knife. Now there is a great deal of blood gushing from my arm, and it appears that there is a ridiculous amount of cancer just underneath the surface. I am beginning to worry slightly, but I know that this is nothing I can’t deal with.
Next step? Only a weakling would solicit help from a medical professional, so I have to think quickly. Hmm. How do I get rid of disastrous life-threatening cancer, invading every fibre of my being? I create a health beverage: two parts petroleum, two parts toilet water (I go for the bathroom upstairs where the presence of fecal material is more prevalent), one part vanilla syrup. I drink my concoction and wait for several moments. The bleeding has ceased, the lumps are nowhere to be found, and I have an especially bad case of halitosis. I am truly the world’s greatest problem solver.
Four Cookbooks, Three Nostrils and a Wolf
These folks are probably what you would call the radical fringe of the anti-obesity movement. Working for a health advocacy organisation that, for now, will need to remain nameless, has given me access to a lot of strange and unsettling information. I would go into length, but they track my Internet usage at the facility here and I can only be online for brief periods of time each week; violating the curfew comes with dire consequences.
The guy with three nostrils was there. I have never met anyone else, or heard of this anywhere else, but yes, this man had three nostrils. Has, actually. He sleeps across the hall. It is the most aesthetically unpleasing thing I have to look at on a regular basis (and yes, it is really noticeable and you almost can't stop yourself from staring in shock and awe constantly). He also started the fire. The cookbook bonfire, where everyone was wearing trendily skinny jeans and chewing coca leaves while going on about the social evils of major food corporations, was possibly the most pretentious thing I have ever had to do while working in politics.
The other thing is that we have a wolf in the dorms, which has never really been adequately explained. Sometimes I worry that it is to keep the employees, like yours truly, in line (that being said, I have tendencies for paranoia). I have to be honest, the wolf is very intimidating. The wolf howls all the fucking time and I hear it running down the hallway all the time which makes me too nervous to ever leave this goddamn place. Ah; I should not complain so much. It is an interesting job, and by God, is it extreme.
