SCIVILLAGE
report by: Outcast- spuriousmonkey
Day 5 - 'The saga continues - an unexpected party'
The metal chest contained nothing but love letters. What a disappointment. I didn't have anything better to do so I went through them with a glass of my own brew which I had named 'Scirum'.
Apparently Ozymandias had been writing love letters to Swedishfish. But they all had returned to him unopened. They were not unopened anymore of course. I was getting quite into it.
Apparently Ozymandias had been in love with Swedishfish since he was 6. That was when she had asked him in kindergarten if she could use his crayons. She never returned the crayons. She had used them all to make subversive posters with catchy titles such as: 'death to all proletarian treachers', 'capatalist pigs will die!', and 'kindergarten is hell'.
The teacher had accused her of making the posters but little 6 year old Ozymandias had jumped in and claimed that he had made them. She didn't even give him a glance of approval but retreated to the toilets to make more pamflets and revolutionary material.
Ozymandias' heart was broken, but could not help loving her.
He continued to follow her around whenever possible but she never acknowledged him. As a teenager Ozymandias decided to make the big step for her. He became a communist. He started writing her the very first letters explaining that he just had become a communist for her!
She never replied, but found a note on his door the next day covered in blood stating: TRAITOR TO OUR CAUSE.
Ozymandias' heart was broken again. Again the girl he loved wouldn't ackowledge his sacrifice. He had denounced his family to become a communist. He had read all the works of Karl Marx. He has bought a red flag and everything. What more could he do to win her heart over? Apparently she was not a communist, but part of some other revolutionary splinter group.
I stopped reading, although it was all very fascinating. I was getting a bit hungry. Thankfully Cosmictraveller had filled the storage bins with fresh food. I had taken a bag of it with me when I left the village. I wish he would grow something else besides potatoes and cucumbers. I made a mental note to tell him that when I would see him.
ScRaMbLe was calling. He had come to visit me. Normally I would have run away but I had already had a few Scirums. I offered ScRaMbLe one which he eagerly took. He told me it was a whole lot of better shit than you could get down at the bar. I guess he would come to visit me now more often. I was not sure if I was completely happy about that, but the Scirum was still in my blood and I started singing. That scared ScRaMbLe a bit and he filled his cup again with scirum slamming it back. He now started singing too, although much better then me.
He told me about the toilet incident. I learned now for the very first time that someone actually had tried to kill me with a bomb. I wasn't really bothered by it though, since the scirum was flowing freely now. RebelWithoutACow was a true professional drunk. He had heard the singing of drunken people all the way back in the village (I doubt that anyone else could have recognized the significance of these strange sounds) and had hurried to get here. We invited him and supplied him with copious amounts of scirum.
It was turning into a proper party.
report by: Outcast- spuriousmonkey
Day 5 - 'The saga continues - an unexpected party'
The metal chest contained nothing but love letters. What a disappointment. I didn't have anything better to do so I went through them with a glass of my own brew which I had named 'Scirum'.
Apparently Ozymandias had been writing love letters to Swedishfish. But they all had returned to him unopened. They were not unopened anymore of course. I was getting quite into it.
Apparently Ozymandias had been in love with Swedishfish since he was 6. That was when she had asked him in kindergarten if she could use his crayons. She never returned the crayons. She had used them all to make subversive posters with catchy titles such as: 'death to all proletarian treachers', 'capatalist pigs will die!', and 'kindergarten is hell'.
The teacher had accused her of making the posters but little 6 year old Ozymandias had jumped in and claimed that he had made them. She didn't even give him a glance of approval but retreated to the toilets to make more pamflets and revolutionary material.
Ozymandias' heart was broken, but could not help loving her.
He continued to follow her around whenever possible but she never acknowledged him. As a teenager Ozymandias decided to make the big step for her. He became a communist. He started writing her the very first letters explaining that he just had become a communist for her!
She never replied, but found a note on his door the next day covered in blood stating: TRAITOR TO OUR CAUSE.
Ozymandias' heart was broken again. Again the girl he loved wouldn't ackowledge his sacrifice. He had denounced his family to become a communist. He had read all the works of Karl Marx. He has bought a red flag and everything. What more could he do to win her heart over? Apparently she was not a communist, but part of some other revolutionary splinter group.
I stopped reading, although it was all very fascinating. I was getting a bit hungry. Thankfully Cosmictraveller had filled the storage bins with fresh food. I had taken a bag of it with me when I left the village. I wish he would grow something else besides potatoes and cucumbers. I made a mental note to tell him that when I would see him.
ScRaMbLe was calling. He had come to visit me. Normally I would have run away but I had already had a few Scirums. I offered ScRaMbLe one which he eagerly took. He told me it was a whole lot of better shit than you could get down at the bar. I guess he would come to visit me now more often. I was not sure if I was completely happy about that, but the Scirum was still in my blood and I started singing. That scared ScRaMbLe a bit and he filled his cup again with scirum slamming it back. He now started singing too, although much better then me.
He told me about the toilet incident. I learned now for the very first time that someone actually had tried to kill me with a bomb. I wasn't really bothered by it though, since the scirum was flowing freely now. RebelWithoutACow was a true professional drunk. He had heard the singing of drunken people all the way back in the village (I doubt that anyone else could have recognized the significance of these strange sounds) and had hurried to get here. We invited him and supplied him with copious amounts of scirum.
It was turning into a proper party.
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