Acmlm's Board - I3 Archive -- Modern Art: Teapots! (Awesome story! Must read!)

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Acmlm's Board - I3 Archive - Modern Art - Teapots! (Awesome story! Must read!)

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Nebetsu

Mole

Since: 11-17-05
From: WarKoL

Last post: 6318 days
Last view: 6318 days

Posted on 02-25-06 02:21 AM

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"Somebody pushed a button and I don't know which one" were the words that echoed through the space-time continuum. Every being, every rock, every star, every moon, every tree, and every human on Earth heard this message of impending doom. There was a great fuschia flash as realms aligned and universes collided. Physics turned upside down and cows spoke with delightful British accents. These cows had the profound, but frightening ability to summon obscure teapots from the depths of the ocean. The ability is widely accepted as profound, since no one can seem to come up with a half-decent explanation for the teapot's location in the first place. No one could agree on why they had arms, legs, and a head either and was widely accepted as equally profound. There was one thing that everyone could agree on: these teapots were frightening. Although, still, no one could seem to agree why. Some say it's the hideous, mal-formed, ill-shapen, branch-like antlers that grow from the teapots' feet. Others blatantly disagree and say it's the dreadful fact that the teapots take great delight in draining the blood from their victims and, through an unknown process, turning it into the most delicious Earl Grey tea imaginable; with just the right amount of milk, cream, and sugar to suit every person's specific individual tastes.

Now one would think that the human race wouldn't stand to be farmed for the unacceptable reason of being turned into tea. And, at first, they didn't. In fact: they were pretty mad about the whole idea. These people were given a cup of tea, were delighted that they could be transformed into something so enjoyable, were promptly executed, then enjoyed. Soon, people started living in poor quality farms for the sole purpose of being turned into tea and being enjoyed by the cows, but out of the way so the cows wouldn't have to think much about where the tea originated from.

Then one day, one particular human decided he didn't want to be underfed; he didn't want to live in a closet; he didn't want to be bossed around; and he certainly didn't want to become tea. His name was "Inferior Human Meatbag #3,304,506". As you can plainly see, the cows had a great deal of respect for the humans. In fact: They had so much respect, that humans were alloted a while four cubic feet of space to run around in. Now, "Inferior Human Meatbag #3,304,506" had a vision of having more space to run about in and a strange, never-before-heard-of philosophy called "freedom". He was the first of his kind to develop such theories like, "I think, therefore I want to go outside.", "To tea or not to tea.", and "A squared plus B squared equals 'LET ME OUT OF THIS CAGE!'". This man was so convincing, that he gathered a great multitude of people who were a little more than ticked off with the idea of becoming tea. They formed a great rebellion. They crafted deadly and powerful weapons out of arm-hair and Popsicle sticks. They had the intent to kill and ravage their enemies, hearts filled with love for their own kind, malice for battle, and the determination to win. Since this story really isn't about them, "Inferior Human Meatbag #3,304,506" was quickly assassinated by a runamuck teabag, who had all the ambition in the world to become lodged in a particular human philosopher's throat. If you happen to be wondering about the fate of the many followers, they were hastily emancipated from this plane of existence and were enjoyed by many British speaking cows.

This story is really about "Inferior Human Meatbag #3,304,507", who was in the middle of all the fuss, but rather enjoyed his four foot by four foot space and wanted nothing to do with any sort of rebellion. This man was the type of character that liked to bend the rules, but only in such a way that was acceptable by the cows and teapots. For example: He loved his alloted space so dearly that he kept an armsickle stick to fend off various idiots with insane ideas about wanting more space to run about in. The cows knew of this and, although armsickle sticks are punishable by tea, "Inferior Human Meatbag #3,304,507" was left alone. "The more beings taking out those idealists, the better" was the final word from the warden when the bloodied remains were found outside of "Inferior Human Meatbag #3,304,507"'s quarters, so "Inferior Human Meatbag #3,304,507" went on protecting his alloted closet unhindered.

One particularly ordinary day in one particularly extraordinary universe, the birds were singing, the flowers were blooming, and "Inferior Human Meatbag #3,304,507" had just blown apart another annoying member of the pathetic human race who just happened to have diluted ideas of claiming more runabout space. He peered through his six inch by two inch window at the "Inferior Human Meatbag Janitorial Squad" in triumph as they washed and cleaned the splattered remains of the intruder while they tried to carefully sponge up as much blood as they could in a bucket to be magically and wonderfully transformed into tea. "That'll set an example", he thought, "Maybe if they see what they could become, they won't try to take my closet."

Now, "Inferior Human Meatbag #3,304,507" was having a bad day. This was particularly unusal, since he though he had managed to escape from those long ago. He was certain he ditched them when he took a flight from New York when he was transferred to the nearest tea processing institute. He knew what this meant. He was followed and would have to challenge the concept of a bad day to a fist fight with some light classical music playing the background. "Maybe that will work", he thought, "Or maybe I'm just going insane." In fact, for once in his obliviously miserable life, "Inferior Human Meatbag #3,304,507" was right . That was precisely what was going on. In fact, he was actually sitting in a similar, but slightly larger, room with nice soft walls and a very uncomfortable jacket, dreaming up all kinds of nonsense about cows with delightful British accents and teapots that magically turn human blood into delicious Earl Grey tea, but it makes for quite an interesting story. Again, despite the obsessive music from the birds, the blinding rays of the sun, and his recent promotion from regular to chocolate milk, this was an unusually bad day. The peculiar thing was that "Inferior Human Meatbag #3,304,507" couldn't place his finger on any particular reason for why he was feeling so miserable. The riots and rebellions were not any more loud or annoying than usual and he had just managed to see the insides of another uppity idealist splattered against the white walls of the hallway. This was odd because that always seemed to cheer him up. Finally, "Inferior Human Meatbag #3,304,507" reluctantly concluded that the reason for his depressed nature hadn't happened yet and went back to his day-to-day business.

(edited by Nebetsu on 02-25-06 01:21 AM)
(edited by Nebetsu on 02-25-06 01:24 AM)

Kyoufu Kawa
Intends to keep Rom Hacking in one piece until the end