Jason Biggs: No Beef, Just Apple Pies with Cream

 

Incelbordination, Chapter 7

The sun set on a dreadful Friday and Oswald couldn’t have been more grateful. In its place was a beautiful Saturday morning, complete with sleeping until noon and all the weed he could smoke in one sitting. He still hadn’t decided whether or not he wanted to torch the C- laden paper. He figured maybe he should’ve dragged his little ass out of bed to make those necessary corrections. Then again, correcting things never helped him in the past. Those C’s still gazed into his soul every time he laid eyes on them. Perhaps a nice walk in the afternoon sunshine would do him a few favors here and there.

MP3 player? Check. Ready roll? Check. Zippo? Double check, motherfucker. He certainly wouldn’t have accepted another book of matches from Antero no matter how desperately he needed them. Once the trench coat was on and “Lonesome Town” by Ricky Nelson soothed his aching ears, Oswald headed for the streets without telling his roommates goodbye. Then again, they wouldn’t have noticed even if he did.

The streets were nearly empty at this time of day. Normally people would be partying it up on a Saturday. Either that or Oswald was just as ignorant of other people as they were of him. As soon as those negative, lonely thoughts crept in his mind, he pulled out his ready roll. Even with his Zippo clearly in the palm of his fucking hand, he could hear a familiar voice from behind asking him if he needed a light. “Oh no….oh hell no…” the dwarf moaned while shaking his head.

He pulled off the headsets and turned around to see Antero Magnus holding a book of matches. “Well, it’s Groundhog Day…again,” joked the Incel.

“You motherfucker!” shouted Oswald. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t punch you in the dick right now! You trying to get me in trouble or some shit?! You knew what you were doing when you gave me that gift card, you sick prick!”

“You’re right!” retorted Antero as he leaned down to meet Oswald’s eyes. “I knew exactly what I was doing. I was trying to teach you a lesson. You didn’t even need an ass-load of tuition money to learn that.”

“You ain’t helping your case, buddy! I’ve still got one more punch in me and it’s aimed at your….”

“Listen to me, damn it!” snapped Antero. “I know you’re upset and you damn well should be. Those girls who hang out at Mickey D’s are underage, yes, they are. They’re young, naïve, immature…and yet they’re the only girls in this world who find us attractive.” Oswald’s fighting stance eased up at that statement. “Think about this for a minute. Our one safe haven for finding love and the government outlaws it. Tell me again how everything’s not stacked against us.”

“So you’re mad because you can’t fuck little girls?”

Antero stood up and sighed. “Obviously, I’m not getting through to you. Take a walk with me for a minute. I’ve got something to show you.”

“Let me guess: you’re going to introduce me to your dead Uncle Tuomas? Yeah, that’s right. I almost got sent to jail over what you put me through. The cop who picked me up told me all about your Uncle Tuomas! I bet you’ve got an Aunt Floor Jansen and a Grandma Anette Olzon too!”

Antero chuckled, “I never get tired of hearing those Nightwish jokes. But yes, it’s true: I’m of Finnish descent and my Uncle Tuomas is dead as a doornail. But I’m willing to bet you anything the cop only gave you the Cliff’s Notes version of what happened. Cliff’s Notes are good, but not in a college setting where C-‘s are staring you in the face with a murderous grin. Come with me. Let me set you straight.”

From there the two of them had a brief walk to the local cemetery. Oswald never let Antero out of his sight in case the sly bastard had a knife he couldn’t wait to coat with midget blood. For the most part, the incel leader seemed sincere in his gestures. And then shit got real when the two of them approached Tuomas Magnus’s grave. The poor guy died young, as was the case of a lot of suicide victims. The cold hard fact wasn’t lost on Antero when he removed his sunglasses and gazed down at the grave with sadness etched in his features.

“Oswald, I want you to pay close attention to something I’m about to point out to you.” The incel pointed at various graves and said, “Bouquet of roses” to each of them. “Now I want you to take a look at Tuomas’s grave and tell me what you see.”

“…No roses.”

“That’s right, Oswald. Nobody bothered to leave him one single rose. Not my deadbeat dad. Not my bitch ass mom. Not anybody in the community, in fact. They all gave up on him. They bought into the rape charge bullshit like it was the word of god. The police will tell you that they had more than enough evidence to press charges. Then again, the police have never been trustworthy to begin with. They can delete body camera footage at the drop of a hat. They can beat and shoot anybody they damn well please and get a paid vacation for it. Uncle Tuomas was just another victim of this unjust system. One little girl cried rape and now everybody descended upon him with pitchforks and torches.”

Oswald sighed, hung his head, and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Look, I get how fucked up false rape accusations can be, but what does your dead uncle have to do with me?”

Physically leveling with his “friend” yet again, Antero said, “Well, you’ve seen the lack of roses on Tuomas’s grave. Tell me: who’s going to leave roses on your grave when you die?” Oswald’s face grew solemn. “I’d leave them, but I might not be around for much longer if this police investigation keeps up. How long do you think you have left on this earth, Oswald, before the Chads and Stacys cripple you to death? Three years? Maybe four? You’re a young man. Young men with English degrees don’t do well in this piss-poor economy. The only other option you’d have left is to marry a woman with money. The only question is…who’s going to want to blow their trust fund on you, Oswald?”

Wiping a solitary tear from his eye, Oswald mustered up, “I have a few friends…”

“A few? I’m sorry, Oswald, but a few doesn’t make up an entire funeral congregation. You’re lonely and you don’t want to admit it. You have nobody you can turn to in this world. Not your teachers, not your so-called friends who’ll backstab you in a heartbeat…not even your dead parents.”

The dwarf gazed up at Antero with tears pooling in his eyes. “Is my Face Book profile that obvious?”

“More obvious than an anvil falling out of the sky, my friend.” Just as Oswald was about to burst into an ugly sob, Antero held his shoulders and said, “It’s true. I know all about your parents’ deaths. I’ll never forget that angry rant you posted. Your mom and dad were killed by a drunk driver. But instead of giving that Night Train-drinking bastard lethal injection, the judge gave him a few years at most because of his sudden love for Jesus Christ. The cops can arrest us anytime they want. But what if we just made up the Jesus Christ excuse once the heat got too hot? Together, we can change the world. Together, we can show the Chads and Stacys that they don’t run shit anymore.”

Antero extended his hand to shake and all Oswald could do was stare at it with tears falling from his face. He then slapped the hand away and hugged his newfound friend around the neck. The incel leader awkwardly hugged him back and allowed the dwarf to cry on his shoulder.

“Let it all out, little guy. Let it all out. Incelbordination is here for you. The cops don’t give a shit about you. The Stacys don’t give a shit about you. But I do. Come join us for a support session. You can talk all about your feelings and eat fast food until your belly explodes. Maybe you can smoke that joint and get hungry for some more food. A Quarter Pounder with Cheese won’t judge you.”

Oswald broke his embrace and wiped his tears on his trench coat sleeve. Nodding, he said, “Count me in, Antero. Don’t leave me out here with these normies.”

“I knew you’d see the light one of these days, my friend. It was a foregone conclusion since the day you were born into this fucked up world.”

Incelbordination, Chapter 5

Oswald didn’t believe he had to look ritzy for this trip to McDonald’s (and really, who did?). A departure from the gloomy trench coat attire, however, was definitely in order. A hot shower to melt away the pot stench from his hair and skin. A roll of deodorant to make him at least slightly below bearable to be around. No haircut or shave for him, though, just a ponytail in back and braids in his beard. Completing his Supreme Gentleman look was a pair of glasses that didn’t help him see better, a blue T-shirt that said “Your Favorite Author Sucks”, and a pair of gray jeans that didn’t feel overly tight. He gazed at his gift card one more time before smiling and exiting his dorm.

He didn’t need his MP3 player that evening, just a nice tune to whistle. The sun crept underneath the horizon and gave way to a brilliant dark blue sky. The breeze against Oswald’s skin was pleasantly cool, a stark contrast from the blazing spring weather in the daytime. Tonight was the night it would finally be over. Tonight, tonight, tonight, hot damn tonight! Any guilt he felt about going through with this was completely washed away by the potent smell of greasy fast food wafting through the air.

Conspicuous by their absence was a hoard of hungry costumers, leaving Oswald to wonder where the hell the hookers were. Then again, prostitution was a secretive business by nature, so maybe they wouldn’t come parading down the street right away. The little person placed his order of two Double Quarter Pounders with Cheese, a twenty-piece McNugget without sauce, two breakfast burritos, and two medium Cokes. The way the lady behind the counter smiled and winked at Oswald made him slightly uncomfortable, like she was at least dimly aware of what was going through the dwarf’s mind. Nonetheless, she charged the gift card and two minutes later handed him the food, which he took outside.

Oswald sat down on the curb and scouted the parking lot for potential visitors. Nobody. Not a single soul. Hopefully, the lack of occupants included undercover cops. Oh, god help Antero of Oswald got arrested this evening. Dick punches would be the least of his concerns. The dwarf started gnashing on one of the cheeseburgers and got a little glob of grease on his favorite T-shirt. “Shit, goddamn it!” he said to himself before wiping down his clothing.

The little person was so lost in thought that he failed to notice a slender shadow falling over him, dimly lit skies aside. He jumped slightly at the sound of a feminine voice saying, “Hi!” to him. Sure enough, there was a lovely young lady smiling down at him while holding her hands in front and swinging from side to side ever so innocently. She even wore his favorite outfit: a tanktop, short shorts, and sexy sandals. Oh, this was too perfect to be true. “Can I have some of that? I haven’t eaten all day today.”

“Um…sure! Have a seat,” said Oswald nervously. As she sat next to him chewing on a breakfast burrito, the little person’s nerves spiraled out of control, making him crave a ready roll as easily as he did the food. He didn’t know the terms of how this was supposed to work. Was there a code word of some kind? Were they supposed to eat first and then fuck? What was the going rate for this kind of deal?

The girl did no favors for Oswald’s nerves as she patted his shoulders and asked, “How are you doing tonight? You want some company?” Bless his heart, the little guy couldn’t get his words out coherently. “Wow, you’re tense tonight. Is something wrong or are you just nervous?” Still unable to form a reasonable sentence, Oswald nodded and the girl giggled at him. “Aww, that’s so sweet! I like it when guys get nervous around me. It shows that they care. Makes business a lot easier.”

“B…business?”

“Yeah, business. I take it that’s why you’re here, right? You know, aside from having a good meal and all.”

Oswald’s jaw stopped quivering long enough so he could ask the most important question of his freedom-loving life: “How old are you?”

“Fourteen, sir.”

Oswald buried his face in his hands and said, “Oh my god” over and over again. “I think I just made the biggest mistake of my life. I’ve got to get the fuck out of here.”

He tried to get up and leave, but the teenaged prostitute’s hand grasped his and her eyes had the puppy-dog expression locked in. “Where are you going? You can’t leave me here.”

Jerking his hand away, Oswald said, “Not only can I leave you here, but that’s what I plan to do. I ain’t going to prison for you, sweetheart. I’m not that desperate for a cherry pop. Hell, I’ll probably get my cherry popped in prison instead of a fucking McDonald’s parking lot!”

She grabbed his wrist and begged him, “Please? I’ll do whatever you want me to do as long as you don’t leave. I can’t go back home right now. My dad’s going to kill me!”

“Yeah, and your dad’s going to kill me too if he finds out we’ve been bumping uglies. I’d probably prefer getting killed over spending at least one minute in the sex offender registry. Sorry, toots, it’s not happening. Here, take your McDonald’s meal and leave me alone. It’s all yours. You’ve more than earned your share tonight. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go punch Antero in the dick.”

“Who’s Antero?”

Tucking his chin to his chest, Oswald sighed, “It’s best if you never find out. But if you see him before I do…run!” The little person yanked his wrist away and stomped away from the fast food restaurant, leaving the underage prostitute in a heap of tears and hopelessness. Part of him couldn’t help but feel bad for her, knowing she had an enraged father to go home too. Images of her getting badly beaten flashed through his mind and sent a cold tremor through his body. What he wouldn’t do for a ready roll at this moment.

Once he sufficiently widened the gap between himself and the teenager, Oswald leaned against the lamp post huffing and puffing, though he didn’t do any exercising to warrant such exhaustion. Instead his tiredness was a byproduct of his nerves raging throughout his body. So much anxiety pooling in his stomach like a biblical flood. So much anger boiling in his brain and giving him a monstrous headache. He hammer punched the lamp post a few times and let out a few choice swear words to whoever was listening. He made a big mistake by leaving his marijuana in his dorm room. He came even closer to making a bigger mistake and paying for it with two-hundred percent interest.

Oswald stuffed his hands in his jean pockets and trudged down the street muttering to himself, “I’m going to kill that motherfucker” over and over again, obviously referring to Antero Magnus. A five finger dick punch wasn’t good enough for that ass clown. Dunking his head in the McDonald’s deep fryer? That sounded a lot more like poetic justice.

Before he could spend too much time in his own thumping head, a burgundy car pulled up beside him and a raven-haired woman behind the wheel rolled down her window to engage Oswald in conversation. “Are you Oswald Crow?”

“If anybody were him, it’d be me.”

Flashing a police badge, the woman introduced herself as, “Detective Mia Barry. You and I have a long chat ahead of us. Hop in the car. I’ll take you for a ride.”

Chuckling nervously and waving his hands in defense,  Oswald said, “Nah, I don’t need a ride. My dorm room is only a few blocks away. I can make it there myself, but thanks.”

“I don’t think you understood me, Mr. Crow. I’m not asking you to get in the car. I’m telling you. Like I said, we’ve got a lot of shit to talk about.” Oswald gazed at the detective with frightened eyes. “What’s the matter? You need help getting in or do you just not want to cooperate with me tonight? If it’s the latter, I’ll have no choice but to haul you in.”

“…N…Nah, it’s okay, I can get in.” Oswald slowly trudged towards the passenger seat and let himself in, feigning a struggle just to draw out the time. Once he clicked his seatbelt in, the two of them drove off into the night together. What Detective Barry wanted to talk about was anybody’s guess, but it probably involved Oswald nearly making a huge fucking mistake in the McDonald’s parking lot. The little guy’s saliva gulp tasted too much like hamburger meat and shame.

Fine

VERSE 1

Watching Metallica shredding up a storm

Having eargasms in this heavy metal porn

Flamethrowers lighting up the fucking sky

So intense in the pit, you could fucking die

A night of badass music is in the books

This thrashed up body is exactly how it looks

You could do it again until the end of days

But when asked about it, you’ll only just say…

DEADPAN CHORUS

It was fine

VERSE 2

Losing your virginity to a Hollywood babe

Porno actresses want to be your love slaves

Cumming your whole body inside out

Orgasms so intense, you can only shout

Sex forever in the sunny beach weather

Who’ll it be today, a chick named Heather?

You could do it again until the end of time

But your only response gives another rhyme:

DEADPAN CHORUS

It was fine

VERSE 3

Driving around on the lunar surface

Floating in the air never felt so perfect

Planet earth is so many miles away

Yet all you can do is fucking say…

DEADPAN CHORUS

It was fine

BRIDGE

I don’t know if it’s laziness

Or a case of mental haziness

Fine is your answer for everything

If it feels good or fucking stings

ENERGETIC CHORUS

It was fine! X4