Stacie, shook her head, winced in pain, grimaced - a little bitch grimace, and was for a second transported back into her mind... deep into the recessions of her past... she recalled an event, a traumatic event, one that had shaken her, and rattled her, like the rattle of a rattle snake except this event had no serpent, no it was nothing like a rattle snake. Although she did have a fear of snakes. That could be foreshadow or irrelevant. But our story is so far: A woman, Stacy, recently struck by lightening, thrown back into a menacing memoir or her morbid memory, menacing in pain in front of Doug, her neighbor, who may be the first to realize the true power and fright of Stacie's non snake induced scare that caused a split: A split in her that could never be repaired. "What are you fucking deaf Stacie?" cried Doug. Waiting for a response he squinted his eyes into the darkness trying to make out the steaming silhouette of Stacie. "Jesus, smells like someone burnt a beaver out here," mumbled Doug as he waded through the darkness in the general direction of where he could last make out Stacie. Meanwhile Stacy was being confronted by the demons of her dark past: an R-rated horror movie she saw when she was only 13-years-old, that time she almost went into the mens bathroom, the one time she'd accidentally used a racial slur, and something involving demonic possession. Doug was holding his 12-gauge shotgun that he liked to keep at hand during the fierce lightning storms of the Nebraska summer. You see, at that moment Doug too was struggling with the emotions that his memory evokes during weather like this. Doug was subject to something as well in his younger years: something involving his son, his farm animals, and bestiality. Let's just say he never wanted to use that shotgun again but let's also just say he never wanted to be caught again without it, and have to go and get it, and use it... on his own loved ones. Not that he loved them all that much....he killed them all with a gunshot in the head after all.
These neighbor's knew not of each others problems. They had problems enough of their own, and they lived in a world of separation. Their ancestor's lived differently--for most of human history had lived in tight nit tribes and would vary rarely encounter any other person who they did not know like family. Yet here these two people just feet from each other and knew hardly anything of one another. Did this disconnect in the world they were living in lead to the mistrust and tension that brought two minds to possession and murder. How much of modern psychiatrically defined mental illness was present in our predecessors and how much of it only results for the strange world that the forces of human culture have brought about.
Doug went back into his house. He opened a bag of oreos and turned on the game. The next time he looked at the back he had eatin 18 oreos. "Holy balls that is 22,000 calories and 65% fat," said Doug in a soft lisp. And he was right it was 22,00 calories and 65% fat. He suddenly had a vision of his wife giving him a pedantic glance as she put the bag back in the cabinets. It was times like this that he thought most about the murder he had committed. It was a hot summer day, the air was moist and somehow heavy. The family was cooling down inside when little Jimmy had the fucking dank idea of playing monopoly. "You son of a bitch Jimmy," yelled Doug happily "you read my mind, set that shit up." The family was stoked as fuck. They were about to enter a world of dice rolling, purchase, transaction, and chance. In other words they were entering a world of intense pleasure, where emotions are formless, timeless, and transcendental. This was not Doug's day with the dice. He had only the light blue property and electric company. It was a fucked up situation. Doug did not like to lose and could feel the anger rising inside them. That is when he snapped. "Dieeeeee!!!!!," he screamed. He shoved the fake money down his wife's throat as his son looked on in horror. "How would you like to be next Mr. Boardwalk you capatalist fuck," yelled Doug to his son. "You think you can monopolize the real estate system, I got make a living you prick." He beat his head into the ground with a nine iron. He cried for 3 minutes afterward, and turned on espn to see what was happening in the world of sports.
Doug had watched 4 episodes of the same ESPNNEWS now. You know it's a god awful day when you've heard John Clayton weasel about groin strains for 2 hours. Doug stirred, he had feint recollections of some noise, some bullshit, and an unhappy ending in his head. "God damn ESPN shows," he mumbled, stepping over some bloodied masses on the living room floor. But there were more pressing issues at hand. He'd been thinking about Stacy a lot lately and that maybe it was time for a new family. This is what humans did, they constantly created new relationships and broke off their old ones because their old ones sucked worse than the ones that had come before that. They also killed a lot of people they didn't like. So it's easy to understand Doug and his fragile being given that it had been warped and contorted from years occupying this planet like silly putty under the weight of a giant ass. Doug had been crushed by it all but he still pushed on admirably. And so Doug picked up his phone but then put it down and went and looked at porn. Doug picked up his phone later but he realized he didn't have Stacey's number. "Ah cunt.." he thought "what am I going to do now?" But then Doug thought of a most wonderful idea. Stacy had recently been hit by lightening, and was completely without memory, immobile, and in a serious condition at the local emergency room. "I'll have her eating out of the palm of my hand," thought Doug, with some degree of literalness given her current state.
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