Friday, April 10, 2009

April 10, 2009: Springfield

LOLSCHACH's Journal: April 10, 2009:

Awoken early this morning by heavy panting. Look around and see Dreiberg in my apartment. Instantly awaken, pull on face, sure that he has been masturbating while watching me in my sleep. Consorting with Veidt too much? Anything is possible after horrible April 07 incident.

Lunge at him, "Daniel, what are you doing?" Through heavy breathing he explains that he had just walked up the stairs to greet me. Disturbing how instantly I can turn on only friend.

But then I recall this, and realize that LOLSCHACH has no friends. Just acquaintances. Dreiberg further explains himself. Apparent donut eating festival today, he wishes to participate in eating contest. Not surprised. I agree to go, no plans for the day. Will get my exercise.

Fly in his ship, sleep more after letting guard down. Land at 11:00 AM. Get off ship and walk into fair. Pass man fatter than Dreiberg, looking me over as if I were a smoked turkey leg. "Worst. Costume. Ever." Hurm.

Dreiberg unable to stop me as my fist sinks in man's stomach like quicksand. After feeling apathetic, now looking forward to festival. Pass entrance gates, evaluate my surroundings. Can't help it. Dreiberg asks me if I could just have fun for once. Fun? Having barrels. Heh.

Walk past stoner listening to Satanic rock music, slurring that he's "blotto." Then two older homosexual men. The elder one smells like formaldehyde. Do not wish to investigate further. Pass young brute. Immediately tells me to eat his shorts. Leave him tied up with his shorts stuffed in his mouth to silence him.

This town is full of donuts and delinquents. A feast for Dreiberg and LOLSCHACH.

Dreiberg goes to attempt to fill his bottomless hole with jelly filled donuts, fritters, and chocolate sprinkles. Good. Cannot stop me now. Crack knuckles. Prepare to bring Armageddon to this open pit of hell.

Then approached by small boy with one of his four fingers shoved up his nose.

"My boogers are spicy!"

Hurm. Child clearly retarded. Yet no one makes jerky of him. Perhaps this town is not as immoral as previously thought. Sit down and listen to boy talk while he begins to eat box of crayons.

Hours later, Dreiberg returns to me. His stomach swollen with fried dough and sprinkles smeared over his face. Lost contest. Figures. Dreiberg, impotent even at eating contest. Attempt to make him feel better by punching the winner, instead get strangled. "Why you little .... zebra faced.... I'll teach you to"

Ship comes. Breaks up ruckus. Dreiberg quiet on flight home, obviously disappointed in his showing. LOLSCHACH quiet as well. Bruised larynx.

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