Jack’s alarm started screaming at him, so he catapulted out of bed, ready to accomplish great things. He went to the bathroom and snorted the line of cocaine that he had prepared last night off of the urine-stained toilet seat. His mind immediately started racing through his various obligations for the day, all of them revolving around Jack’s charity, “Cough Medicine for Kids”. Jack went around the country doing assemblies at middle and high schools, where he lectured the children about the dangers and wonders of cough medicine. Jack’s favorite part of this was that he had the ability to distribute as much free cough medicine as he wanted to curious teenagers.
Whatever cleaning product had been used to adulterate this morning’s cocaine was not agreeing with Jack’s sinuses, so he ran to the kitchen yelling like a yeti. His live-in butler, Butthurt, was ready with a bucket of ice cold water to huck on Jack, which he did, knocking Jack down on his bony ass. He was also ready with a pick-axe to make sure Jack stayed on the ground until he was calm.
“What’s the point of doing drugs if I’m not even going to be arrested when they make me act insane,” Jack pouted. “Worst of all, I’m not even going to want to attack you by the time you let me up.”
“Sorry Jack, but people depend on you. Think of all the kids you’ve gotten hooked on cough medicine. Think of all the puke!!! All those children puking, making a mess and looking silly.”
The butler’s wise words got Jack right back on track. He managed to smile, then got up and walked to the kicthen. Chugging his breakfast bottle of Robitussin helped him to sweep his relentless suicidal thoughts under the rug once more. The Holy Tussin also gave him all the strength and nutrition he needed to face the day. Afterwards he went out his front door; there was a limousine parked in the driveway. The chauffeur hurried to open the door for Jack, even though he would much rather have stabbed him in the face with a needle and injected diarrhea into him. But the chauffeur swallowed his hatred like so much cum and performed his duty of driving Jack to a nearby high school. While Jack stared out the window he thought, “What’s the point? What if I just didn’t even bother to do this?” Luckily the windows were tinted, so Jack touched his penis to make it feel good, and his brooding turned to giggling with glee.
Fifteen minutes later he was on stage, looking out at a sea of pimply disinterested faces. Assemblies were usually boring, the kids had come to expect it. But Jack was so enthusiastic about his drug of choice that his energy became contagious. Jack’s hook always caught their attention. “I’ll bet only a few of you knew that you can get high on cough medicine. That it’s the most amazing, mind-blowing trip possible for a puny human. Best of all, it’s free at all kinds of stores near you, as long as you steal it. If you want to be smart and successful like me, drink nasty thick red syrup on a daily basis,” Jack told the impressionable youths.
After teaching the kids the truth for an hour, he hung out with the cool ones while they skipped class. Jack watched them gag on nasty thick syrup. Usually seeing this would have made Jack feel like Jesus. Today his brain said, “They have everything they need in life right here. They have the secret to being high for free whenever they want. And they’re just going to forget all about it and go back to living meaningless lives.” That night Jack stuck his penis in an electric socket in a brazen but ineffective suicide attempt. Now the tip of his dick is charcoal black.
Posted in: Shortened Stories