Crossroads
Blue Jean baby, LA lady, seamstress for the band...
One day while seeking a place to pass time between airline flights, a man accidentally walks through an interdimensional portal into a "red room" bar-room; a crossroads between one place and several others.
The fellow thinks he's walking into a bar straight off of a flight and sits down greeted by the bartender...
Bartender: Hello, human
Human: what??
Patron: He means sit your ass down and order a drink you milk bag of putrid gases and finite, ever decaying organs.
Human: Hey, fuck you pal!
Patron: No fuck you, you goddamned conceited, overdeveloped chimpanzee. You're a half step up the darwinist flagpole from eating your own shit. WHILE I MIGHT HUMBLY SUGGEST A GOOD NUMBER OF YOU STILL DO!
Bartender: whoa whoa whoa
Let's just take a step back here, we're all sentient beings.
Patron: Barely...
*chugs drink
Human: what the hell are you talking about? What is this?
*points to bartender
Why do you look like Steve Martin?
*points at patron
Why the hell do you look like bill hicks? Isn't he dead?
The bartender clicks his tongue and gives the young man a sympathetic smile.
Bartender: ohhhh kid... you don't know where you are?
Patron: Of course he doesn't, he's a fucking idiot. The product of millennia upon millennia of interbreeding and self inflicted motherfucking.
Human: Well, that I'm not going to whole heartedly disagree with.
Patron: Of course you're not because I'm right.
Bartender: You're at "the crossroads" a meeting place beyond time and space.
We're not exactly what you'd call human, this place has a tendency to affiliate it's alien surroundings with something....more familiar.
Human: why?
Patron: Because your primordial infantile mind would collapse in upon itself if you didn't instantaneously completely lose all sense of reality and self at the sheer magnitude of that which is beyond your comprehension.
Human: well I guess that makes sense...
Human: what's your problem with me anyways?
Bartender: our compatriot here is a bit of a misanthrope
Patron: WITH GOOD REASON
Patron: You motherfuckers are space hillbillies.
Patron: You're given a golden planet in an isolated backwater, the cusp of existence and greatness within your grasp and what do you do with it?
Patron: Turn it into a fuckin' junkyard then develop cancer from the toxic air.
Human: Yeah....I'm not gonna disagree with that either.
Patron: of course not because I'm right.
Patron: let's play a game; give me examples of the pinnacle of human achievement, the scions of mankind and I'll tell you how you've managed to completely fuck it up.
Human: alright...Jesus christ
Patron: too easy. Turned his teachings into a sadistic cult after gratuitously murdering him.
Patron: next
Human:.........Gandhi?
Patron: Mohandas Gandhi? The fucking racist? Next
Human: Stonehenge?
Patron: Pagan sacrificial alter the roman empire missed when they steamrolled through Europe. Such a shame too...
Human: Egyptian pyramids?
Patron: ask yourself how many slaves lives it took to roll those bricks into a coordinated position between 3 stars that everybody and their fucking mother could see just as easily in the night sky; and for what? To worship gods that never existed or men who thought that they were gods that should've never existed?
Patron: you're loosing....badly
Human: surely new advances in science? astrophysics? Quantum physics? We must be close....right?
Patron:.........You have no fucking clue.
Human: C'mon man...there's got to be ONE THING produced by mankind that you actually like.
Bartender: well.....there is. *smirking
Patron: don't you fucking dare...
Human: what is it?
Bartender: He absolutely loves the song, "tiny dancer" by earth's Elton John
Human: WHAT?? AAAAAAHAHAHA!
Patron: FUCK BOTH OF YOU IT'S A GOOD SONG!
Human: goddamn man I need a drink
Bartender: what'll you have?
Human: whiskey?
Bartender: nope
Human: vodka? Gin? Rum? Tequila?
Bartender: nope
Human: gimme whatever you do have
*bartender passes glass of bubbling noxious concoction
*the guy hammers it
Patron: you do know that's sulfuric acid, right?
Human: FFFFF- *dies
Bartender: oops! Damn...I liked him.
Patron: .....me too
Bartender: well now you've got a second favorite.
Patron: Not anymore....
About the Creator
Farren Blackwell
stream of consciousness writing style
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