Awful, Ohio

Awful, Ohio

authored by

Sirloin Furr

An unfilmable story:

Smashwords Edition

Copyright © 2011 by Sirloin Furr

Smashwords Edition License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Table of Contents

Chapter 1 Let’s blow it up – Lacy Slushy

Chapter 2 Perseverance is much more eminent

in accomplishing a goal than feasibility.

Chapter 3 The colors – Theodore Sphinctor

Chapter 4 We are here,

because we live in fear,

and being in here

brings us

peace and cheer.

Chapter 5 Deliver hearts to those who are lacking,

until they begin to ripen with hearts of their own.

Chapter 6 I’ll write a script. – Troy Slushy

Chapter 7 I love you, Lacy. – Troy Slushy

Chapter 8 A script needs to be authentic and accurate

with its story, exposing the plot and characters honestly.

Chapter 9 Your purpose in life is to discover the purpose of your self.

Chapter 10 The Merger.

Chapter 11 Peace is Anti-Action Batter.

Chapter 12 This is Art.

Chapter 13 The Aliens are Coming to Destroy us all!

Chapter 14 As fate would have it.

Chapter 15 Clearly, none of this is a coincidence.

Chapter 16 Mad, can I call you Mad?

Chapter 17 Operation: Blackout

Chapter 1

Let’s Blow it Up – Lacy Slushy

What once was a vacant, humanless land, housing nothing more than tumbleweeds and grazing mammals, quickly erected into a worldwide enterprise of distributable and collectable goods that would be exchanged for government printed monies. All of the government printed monies increased with every transaction, which created a pulsating economy. The lively economy attracted a plethora of humans that exponentially increased with every passing year, indirectly causing the land and wealth to expand. And with every passing year that would earn more government printed monies, attracting more plethoras of humans, more collectable goods would be created and distributed, increasing the amount of exchanged government printed monies.

All of this exchanging and creating and manufacturing of goods helped create wealth for those who ran the industries. But the more wealth that was earned by the individuals running the industries, the more jobs the industries had that needed to be completed. These jobs would be granted to the plethora of humans who were unable to create their own goods. In return, the plethora of humans would be given government printed monies that was earned by the individuals running the industries. There were a lot of monies being earned, and there were a lot of jobs being done. The concentration of wealth and jobs rose quickly in this consolidated area, endowing the thriving land with reputations of amazing, marvelous, prodigious, and exceptional. The land’s amazing success would overwhelm the dwellers and the governors with so much bewilderment, and fill them with so much awe that the land’s epithets had enriched the land with the title of Awful, Ohio.

Awful, Ohio was a birthing place of factories, industries, warehouses, and plantations that provided occupations for the residents that honored their town. The job sector was plenty and the work force was strong, building a strong heart that pumped life from the center of Awful, Ohio, into the surrounding land. The workers would disband from their jobs, scattering through the surrounding land in the evening to their spouses and homes. This became known as their lives. The routine would continue daily, with the sun leading the way, emitting rippling wakes that would whip everyone from their slumber, unionizing them in the morning, back into the city where their jobs awaited them, then returning them home to their lives during the evening time. It was industrial and banal. Of the thousands upon thousands that made up the work force, most of them resided on the surrounding areas of Awful, Ohio, with the few exceptions of those who grew so connected to their careers in the warehouses that they used the conveyor belts as resting units.

However, the wonderful sound to all of this glory and conveniences was not attractive to every member dwelling in Awful, Ohio. For Troy Slushy, he had found nothing but limping banality. Day after day, his soul-enriching rest would end, as his job would demand his attention and time. There wasn’t any freedom in Awful, Ohio. Troy Slushy couldn’t do what he wanted to do. He was forced from his peaceful slumber, entering into a concentration camp of productivity and profit. His life was reduced to imitating a peg, posted in front of a conveyor belt, handing out his time to every manufactured good that moved past his being. He despised his job, loathed his home, and resented every pathetic paycheck that was supposed to be a fair trade for his god given time and energy. He experienced liberation five times a week, when his shift would end, as he would return to the home that sheltered him, sharing it with his wife, whom he loved dearly. Her name was Lacy Slushy. They were high school sweet hearts, each desperately holding on to one another for purpose. But this disheartening routine suppressed every attempt to muster any kind of excitement for one another.

She was Lacy Boiler before becoming Lacy Slushy. She was a thin girl, standing upon the earth like a newborn tree, thin and limber, with crimson hair that ignited Troy’s mind with wild dreams of their first romantic encounter that occurred in a pile of raked October leaves. She reminded him daily of autumn, his favorite season. She too had become a victim of the false advertisements that suggest that the American dream would lead to a wonderful life, that Awful, Ohio was a wonderful place to reside. She had fought gravity every day by getting up to provide support to Troy. But all the fighting had brought wear to her body, as it was turning into a one sided victory. What used to be tight, firm skin, began to drag from her upright flesh, stretching closer to the floor. She had developed cellulite, bags, and jowls. This become understood as aging, and was considered normal. The only things that Troy and Lacy wanted to do was lay with each other on the beach, listening to the ocean. They wanted to fill their heads with knowledge of personal interests, pursue their existential purpose, and drift further away into the abyss of personal enlightenment. They wanted to go to sleep knowing that they had nothing to wake up to. But instead, their lives were obediently structured into minutes, hours and days for Awful, Ohio, and its industrial purpose. They subliminally begged for liberation, but their time was running out, as the exalting flesh that encapsulated their beings was crumbling away.

***

The sun had spotted the Slushy house that morning, which rested on the environs of Awful, Ohio. It was pale and banana yellow, lacking the original spirit and luster that had ordinarily been there when the first coats of paint were applied. It was covered in age, decorated with faded shutters, shingles, and siding, all worn down, all in eager need of repair. But the occupants were preoccupied with other hindrances of depression.

Between the window blind and the molding of the window inside of Troy’s and Lacy’s bedroom, there was a sliver of space that morning which the light of the sun took shape in, squeezing through, and laying across Troy’s closed eyes like a blindfold. That space was there every morning. And every morning the sun would enter like a cat burglar, finding Troy and Lacy sleeping peacefully. Crust was neatly rolled up into little balls, tucked away into the corners of Troy’s eyes. Those balls of crust were the collected shit of Awful, Ohio that Troy’s closed eyes were able to keep from contaminating his mind, robbing him of his dreams.

The blindfold beam was bright and menacing, too much for thin eyelids to hold off. Troy’s eyes reacted with gentle floods of tears, flowing through the crevices of every crafted wrinkle in Troy’s face. The start of a new day was worth cringing for. His eyes squinted open, breaking the dam, as his irises were penetrated with every sharp ray of invasive light that sifted poison through his cones and rods, tunneling through his optic nerve, implanting images of awakening torture into his mind. At that very moment is when Troy gets raped of his dreams every morning, Monday through Friday, because he has to wake up and go to his life-decimating job.

Lacy? Troy was trying to see if Lacy was awake. She normally woke when Troy woke. Troy had been aware of the Awful, Ohio shackles for some time now, and knew that something had to be done to break free from the force. His thoughts were clear during rest that night, and an epiphany overcame him. He was eager to relay his enlightenment to Lacy, thinking that this would be the beginning of their freedom.

Yes, Troy? said Lacy. She wasn’t fully awake, but awake enough to respond to Troy.

Well, you know how we’ve been miserable with the way things have been going lately?

Lacy didn’t want to admit that she was miserable. But as soon as the earth became lit, it exposed everything that Lacy had, which was nothing. She would glance around the room every morning and see the clothes or crafts or cosmetics that her husband’s paychecks had been bartered for. And it all sat there without any ability to inject a sliver of happiness that she had been desiring, back into her existence. She would fall into depression. Every little bit of purchased character that their home had was nothing more than a terrible reminder of the meaningless life that she was living. She would cry every morning as soon as Troy’s legs crawled from their home and into their blue hatchback, driving back into Awful, Ohio for work, leaving her there to be alone with her trash. She didn’t respond to Troy’s question.

It’s because we’re victims, Troy continued, without the signal of Lacy’s acknowledgment. We are victims to the menace that forces us to live accordingly to the way that the ultimate, divine menace thinks our lives should be dictated. We deserve justice from this culprit.

Troy spoke with a fluffy force. He didn’t want to be too intimidating, but he did want to be taken seriously. Troy’s rants are usually about his job, or the car, or wages with work, something boring that Lacy was incapable of relating to, making it hard for her to pay attention. But Troy was right. She did feel like a victim. She felt like she was lied to her entire life, as those moments of happiness that were supposed to happen never showed up. And Lacy kept listening.

Troy paused after his statement. He was fearful that he would be alone, and looked towards Lacy, hoping that her reaction wouldn’t be alienating. Her eyes were open, glaring at the ceiling, as she silently continued resting on her back. Her hopes for salvation voided her routine disinterest. Troy fearlessly continued.

Lacy, why is it that we have to live like this. All we want is to live simply, to simply live! All of this crap that we purchase is nothing that makes us happy. All of this money I earn isn’t anything that puts a smile on my face. I can’t stand having to wake up this early, trudge to work, and leave you here by yourself. I want to spend my days with you, laying on a beach, resting near savannahs, staring at the stars, driving endlessly into new locations, towards cultures that we can observe and witness the beauty that they behold.

Troy’s moments of drama are rare and never well expressed when they do show up. But Lacy was enjoying what she was listening to. The amassing disgruntled diatribe evoked from Troy was soothing, as they would never willingly speak of their disgust of their situation, fearful of exposing the truth. But Troy’s epiphany had begun to put a smile on her face, as she had finally started to feel the happiness that she knew she was seeking. She was anticipating that Troy was going to suggest moving from this work-horse area, and move to an area that possessions and bank accounts weren’t the only things on everyone’s mind. But Troy was implying something else for him and Lacy to engage in.

Lacy, we are not victims of greed, or Awful, Ohio, or even America. They too are all victims of the culprit who forces us, people with awareness and existence through dull and monotonous suffering. Every being is only trying to get by the best way it knows how. The culprit isn’t shy; it shines its big, bright, illuminating face every day, and disguises its maliciousness with deceiving rays of hope! It mocks and torments all of us, and puts it under the spotlight for everyone else to see! The world’s enemy is the sun!

Lacy turned her head towards Troy. She had to stare at the figure that had made that statement. She was wondering if she should start fearing that Troy’s sanity had vacated his body. She thought that the years of work had begun to get to him, and that maybe craziness was all that he had left. She began to feel nervous that she was going to be permanently alone, imagining living by herself, having to work long hours just to support the house, and the bills that the mental hospital would mail to her on a monthly basis to rehab her husband. She was thinking of living with depression or medication or both. Her worries began to inflate. She started to lose hope.

Think about it, Lacy. The sun rotates every day, driving our dream-filled nights into disheartening days, gutting the innards of our personal dreams and desires, Troy continued, reinforcing his theory. It dissipates them into nothing but dust, Lacy, dust! And we just sit here, day to day working our lives into permanent abeyance, allowing it to happen. Lacy, we need to discover happiness, we need to find it, and hold on to it as tight as we can, because we have wasted so much of our time into making other things happy. We need to find a way to live in our dreams, and surround ourselves with darkness so that our souls will no longer be lost into bright and blinding oblivion! The light that exposes everything before us isn’t as good as advertised. The source needs to be obliterated. If we didn’t have the sun, then we’d never have to wake up to the sun and its light forcing itself upon our eyes and minds, revealing this Awful life that we are forced to live in. The answer is obvious, Lacy, if we wish to regain the happiness that we both know that we want. We need to destroy the sun so that we can save our selves!

Lacy kept listening to Troy. Her eyes studied the deep contours that were printed through his face. His face was catatonic, cemented with seriousness like a general seeking war. She listened beyond the words she was hearing, deconstructing the presupposed meanings that she had inaccurately injected into those words. Lacy wasn’t listening to insane ideas or thoughts. And she wasn’t losing hope. All she could hear was passion, care, and love. Troy wanted to save the both of them from the lives that they both had grown to despise. Lacy reexamined Troy’s intentions and found them to be heroic and noble. Troy’s passion became her enlightenment.

She felt a feeling that hadn’t been present in her mind and body since she had married Troy. Troy’s passion had finally resurrected a feeling of hope, salvation, and contentment, and Lacy loved every sense of it. These were the feelings that she wanted to sustain, and these were the feelings that she wanted to commit her life to once again, regardless of the intentions behind them. She supported and encouraged Troy with every idea that was exhumed from his body, as she rolled closer to Troy’s stoic body, smiling, and whispering into his cold ear, let’s blow it up.

Troy stared back at Lacy, reading deeply into her eyes. The cemented contours of his face shattered, smiling for the support that Lacy had to offer. He progressed towards her, kissing her feverishly. The passion for one another was exchanged back and forth that morning, as they laid there in bed, making love to one another for the first time in many orbits.

Chapter 2

Perseverance is much more Eminent in accomplishing a Goal than feasibility.

After the love, Troy’s body had flooded with urgency. He had envisioned a better life with Lacy, exposing her to his idea, as he now needed to do what was necessary in accomplishing what needed to be accomplished. He kissed Lacy farewell, departing from the sheets of their bed in deep pursuit of their purpose, as Lacy watched, tangled in the covers, with her hopes restored.

Troy’s mind and thoughts were focused on how to blow up the sun, unaware of what his body was actually doing, as the years of mechanical routine dressed him, fed him, took him from his home, placed him in his car, merging him onto the highway, and parking him directly into the parking lot of his place of employment. Troy was unaware that any of this had happened, as he was still focused on his plans of destroying the sun.

His place of employment was the largest contributor to the thriving economy that bloomed from Awful, Ohio. It had the most jobs that needed to be done, occupying the largest portion of the plethora of humans that entered into Awful, Ohio. It was a manufacturing plant that created, packaged, and distributed food condiments, advertising to specialize in hot sauce. Mad Ted’s Uckin Hot Auce was the name of the cardinal condiment that the factory manufactured. The name was derived from its creator, Mad Ted, who wasn’t mad or displayed any signs of mental imbalance, but it went with the entire gimmick. The slogan was to suggest just how hot the hot sauce was, uckin’ hot, which was to imply that it could burn away one’s ability to pronounce consonants.

Troy sat inside of the car and stared at the circular formation of the steering wheel. Every molded groove that encrusted the wheel to fit with the ripples in his closing fist coruscated like a blinding penumbra, washing away his mechanized objective to enter into the warehouse. Troy remained seated in the hatchback, parked in the parking lot, focusing on his newly devoted purpose of destroying the sun. His mind and thoughts were constructing various plans, ideas, blue prints, and concoctions, each invested into the same result of destroying the sun.

The parking lot was warm, soaking up all of the heat that the sun was deploying onto the pavement. The heat was rising from the pavement, and into the car. Troy began to sweat, feeling the temperature rise in the hatchback. He looked out the window, glaring up at the sun that stared down at him, like the watchful eye staring at all of its children. It knew what Troy was trying to do, and did everything that it could to prevent Troy from engaging further into cosmic anarchy.

The temperature kept rising, increasing the heat in the hatchback, but it wasn’t enough, as Troy remained committed to his new conversion, remaining devoted to meticulously constructing the most efficient solution to what he dubbed as his and Lacy’s problem, extinguishing the sun.

Troy’s first plan did not involve any destruction. What it did involve was shading the earth from the sun’s deceiving rays of warmth. The plan involved the construction of a large umbrella rocket that would launch into space, locking into orbit around the sun. The umbrella rocket would line up perfectly in front of the earth, orbiting at the same velocity. Once detonated, the umbrella rocket would expand, shielding the earth from the sun’s light, pluming into a shading penumbra, blocking all of the sun’s rays and warmth from entering into the earth, shading the earth from the exposed for the rest of eternity. Out of sight, out of mind was acceptable for Troy, even if it still allowed the sun to sustain existence, because as long as Troy was able to extinguish it from the mind, then it wasn’t possible for it to impose its hazardous influences onto the earth’s population. There would be no destruction, and there would be no end. Troy was more often than not a kind and warm hearted person, very willing to share the large universe with other floating bodies. The sun would still be there, but as long as he couldn’t see it or experience any evidence that the sun would normally leave, he would be content with the results. This was the least destructive, and probably the most environmentally friendly approach to the entire objective. But the self’s contentment was the only thing constituting the mind and body. Passive aggressive behavior isn’t always the easiest solution.

But as the heat increased inside of the blue hatchback, Troy’s brain began to swell, boiling inside of his skull. The warmth was consuming his compassion,