dinsdag 27 augustus 2013

The Story of the Plawanka Rod

Today was one of the weirdest days in my life. When I woke up early this morning Kil was still asleep, and I walked downstairs to get me some fake beer and icecream on the porch. It was still dark except for the blinking fireflies, and very quiet, except for the occaisional mosquito flyby. Something was off though. The chocolate icecream remembered me of Firery's homemade icecream. When I concentrated hard enough I could remember eating it in between of seven cats that were trying to communicate with me in German. The thing is, this is was my third day in the USA, and I hadn't visited Firery yet. And then there were these pants. I could't remember buying them. I couldn't even imagine me buying pink pants, let alone pink pants that are as tight as these. And there was more. When I was blogging the other day about my arrival in the USA, I noticed the date of the post was incorrect. It was months into the future. Something very odd was going on.

As I was trying to solve the puzzle, I suddenly heard a voice right in front of me. It was Anton, Kil's neighbour. I smiled. We smoked cigarettes together in the silent darkness and talked about the enviroment, fracking, climate change, Inuit transvestites, nude whalefishing and extraterrestial life. When Anton asked me where I got the pink pants, I hesitated. Should I tell him the truth that I have no clue, and maybe mention the other odd stuff that I had been noticing? Could I trust him? After being silent for a while, Anton suddenly spoke:
   "You know, I normally don't talk about what I am going to say next, but I have a strange feeling that I should share this with you. This is going to sound somewhat crazy, I know, but I am under the impression that your brain is scrambled. Also, the pants that you are wearing are standard Mbooli uniform pants, which I haven't seen in a long time. It might not make any sense to you what I am telling you now, but I can help you with that. Just follow me to my basement, I have the equiptment ready for a regeneration procedure, after which you will probably feel a lot better. You are not having any stomach problems, do you?"
I was flabbergasted. I had been talking to Anton for 45 minutes and he seemed like a sane person to me all this time. Now it turned out he was having a psychosis. I decided it would be best if I just played along, and as I followed him to his basement I made sure I left all doors behind me open, so I could get out fast if he got aggresive. "Oh, I do need your Plawanka Rod for the regeneration process, do you mind handing it over to me?" I felt so bad for him. He was such a nice guy, it was so sad to see him in this state. He lost his mind completely. Plawanka Rod. What the hell was he talking about? When we stepped into the basement I was surprised. I saw all kinds of unknown machinery, giant tanks of a strange glowing fluid, and an open drawer full of marble penisses from old greek statues. Anton closed the drawer and turned around to lean on it, and asked me again for this thing he called Plawanka Rod. I told him I didn't know what he was talking about. He smiled. "Check your left pocket." I reached into the pocket of my tight pink pants, and to my surprise I found a shiny cylinder with lettering on it that said 'Plawanka Rod version 11.6 Made in Taiwan'. Anton put the rod in one of the machines that instantly lit up. "Is that a Plawanka Rod in your pants or are you just happy to see me," he said, and laughed. "All you have to do is sit down on that crate there, and put your head in the thing that looks like a microwave. Then close your eyes, relax, and end your blog post in caps lock. The regeneration procedure will start then, and you will feel better soon."
   "Who are you, Anton?" I asked. "I'll tell you everything about me and my work for the Pllltwah! Freedom Union after you regenerated. Now just relax, close your eyes, AND END YOUR BLOG POST IN CAPS LOCK." 

Geen opmerkingen:

Een reactie posten