Techivta/Favbot's Note: Warning: What you are about to read, may hurt you. It probably will hurt you. Quite frankly, it will hurt you. Beware. If you have a weak stomach, continue anyway, because why not. This is a story of an unlikely turn of events. Enjoy
Chapter 1 – The Boys and the Bees
Original Ideas by Favbot
Co-written and Edited by Techivita
It was a bright, sunny Saturday afternoon. The sun shone in the bright, blue skies as the trees blew gently in the northern winds. The birds sang their melodies as mother birds flew down from afar to nurture their young. However, something drew the birds from their younglings, as one bye one, each bird would leave their nests. They followed a tune, sweeter than any other sound in the universe, towards its source. The song emitted from our young and egocentric protagonist, Michael, who sung to himself gleefully on the bright and sunny day.
♫~Help, I need somebody.
Help, not just anybody.
You know I need someone.
The birds sang the harmonies along to his silky voice, adding more beauty to the already marvelous song. The bees also heard the magnificent music and exited their hives to find the music’s source. When they found the music’s origin, they began to surround his body, as if he was a large flower glistening in the sunlight. However, they did not pierce him with the daggers they held in their bosoms, but instead buzzed along, like percussionists keeping time to a beat. Some of them even nestled into the strings of his curly, charcoal colored hair as he walked down the street, passing by a few neighbors along the way. They were mesmerised by his presence, seemingly in awe, as if the world had centered a spotlight on him.
All the kids from the neighborhood, big and small, starting flocking towards Michael. It was weekly “Storytime Saturday”, which was when all the children would gather around and listen to Michael tell an adventurous yet haunting story.
“I would like to tell you a great story, everyone. The story of ‘The Birds and The Bees’.” Michael said with a great, expressive voice, using a mysterious tone to entice the kids in hearing his tale. The children sat in awe, waiting for Michael’s booming voice to speak out once again.
Tim Tim, the youngest of the group, came over to Michael. He dressed in a purple onesie and shyly walked over to him, in which his presence was extremely dwarfed by Michael’s height. With a innocent voice, while tugging on Michael’s t-shirt, he asked a question only Michael could answer, “What is the ‘Birds and Bees’, Michael?”
“Well… of course, they are the two types of animals. Both fly and both are majestic creatures,” Michael began hastily, looking right at Tim Tim who had now walked to the front of the rows of children.
“The Birds and the bees,” Michael began, using a enticing voice to capture the attention of the people around him “both flew together in harmony, until one day, the Cold attacked. Only the groundhog, master of all fern and fauna, could stop it. But when the world needed him most, it vanished. One year had passed and my brother, Vadim, and I had found the groundhog, named Punxsutawney Phil, burrowing in our backyard. We demanded Phil to help and said he had until February 2nd to tell us whether it will be winter or spring. If the groundhog should say ‘winter’ we would all perish and the universe would cease to exist. As long as the evils of Cold are cast away from this world, the Sun will rise and unite the two creatures, who will start having sex… because… that’s what the birds and the bees do…” Michael said with a large grin, as the story came to a close. Tim Tim’s eyes widened out of pure wonder and the entirety of the group was beyond surprise by the depth of the story. Even the birds and the bees stopped buzzing and fluttering in sheer wonder of the tale.
Everyone was in shock and in awe by the story, giving Michael a thunderous applause afterward; however, there’s always that one mother fucker that tries to spoil everything in existence.
“FAKE!!! FAKE AND GAY!” a voice yelled out from amongst the crowd. The source of the cry was a youngster, only a few years younger than Michael. He dressed in ripped jeans that were sagged down to the thighs, revealing his dark red and black boxers, and a backward facing cap that said ‘obey’. He smelled of overwhelming amounts of Axe body spray and walked with a gait that seemed almost impossible for the human body. The group quieted as the child walked towards Michael. The birds and bees fluttered away out of sheer fright as mothers pulled their children back from the ominous stranger, making a pathway for the child to walk.
“That’s the theme of Avatar: The Last Airbender, you liar!” he said in a foreboding voice. The skies darkened, as if a storm brewed in the spiral of anger generated from the two boys. The air seemed to get colder every second as he walked, each step seeming to make a thud against the pavement. Everyone stood still, timidly watching to see what would happen.
This kid was a snobby, little asshole, and Michael had the right to teach this kid a lesson. He didn’t take too kindly to people who shat on his story, especially when this child was obviously a swaglet and probably had no idea what a good story was. It was the story that united lovers together and kept the story of the groundhog alive. Heck, the story was even nominated for “Best Story of The Decade”, by the best reviewer in town, Evelyn Tu, and her former associate, Josh Nodiff, who had just recently moved to Mexico.
His moving is an entirely different story, but it seems we have some time…
Josh loved nature and the outdoors, but he loved Mexico even more, so he moved. “Simple as pie” is the quote one would use in this situation. He loved playing with animals a lot and even tried to take his fellow nature pets with him to Mexico, but little did Josh know, the TSA didn’t allow horses on planes. However, it was fine in the end, as Josh just played with the asses and the Mexican kids that lived Mexico. They reminded Josh of his life back home…
Come to think of it, this story actually should get some “air time”…
Anyway, it was that same sunny Saturday afternoon when a miracle happened. Now, most religions don’t believe in this kind of miracle, but it happened.
Michael was now called “The Seahorse”.
Well, while battling the little swaglet, that had happened to intrude on his story telling time, Michael got an urge. An urge like he needed to run home and use the pissery, or in this case, the shittery. He told the swaglet off and bounded for home, feeling the pains of his abdomen growing stronger. The swaglet laughed maniacally, seeing as if he had won the day. The clouds grew darker as Michael ran towards his house. He could hear the boy’s laughs growing fainter as he quickly opened the door to his house and then slammed it shut. Thunder could be heard overhead as well as children screaming and rushing home out of fear; however, Michael could only hear his pounding heartbeat growing quicker each second as he rushed towards the bathroom.
Michael squatted down on the toilet and began to sing the very profound song we all sing when we use the bathroom. (I mean, right?)
♫~Sitting on a toilet….. Sitting on a toilet….~♫
Michael sung aloud, trying to comfort himself, but the last line wasn’t uttered. There was no end to the pain, only a more intensified feeling right on the buttocks.
On the gluteus maximus.
The very butt gland.
The pain, ohohohooo… the pain. He could feel it churning within his stomach and his bum, as if his abdomen was generating enough force to break every rule of physics. The pain increased in intensity every single minute with no conclusion. He could only hear his heartbeat as he sat there, holding his head in his hands out of frustration and pain. Michael jerked upwards as he felt an increasing infliction on his ass. The pain would not end and constipation kept churning through the bowels of his intestines.
There was a loud plop and a splash. Michael was shot upwards and still landed gracefully on his feet. The pain went away as quickly as a pull of a loose tooth using a string.
Michael turned his head, while holding his stomach out of pain, and looked into the toilet, to find a babe sitting in there in the grime filled water. It was annoying, crying and yelling like a broken record attached to surround sound speakers. The child had no belly button, which surprised him, as if a baby coming out of someone’s arse wasn’t surprising enough already. Michael rushed around, frantically searching the vicinity of his bathroom for his phone. When he finally found his device, he googled “where babies come from” and “can men have babies”. Not realizing the baby could possibly drown in the toilet water, he continued his search, like any other dumbfounded person. The baby cried on, flapping its arms about in order to try and surface to get oxygen. Michael ignored the baby’s hullabaloo and kept scrolling through his phone.
Michael soon finally came to his senses, put down his phone, and picked up the baby from the water. The babe was covered in grime, probably feces, and was drenched in a foul smelling water. Michael had no idea what he would do. Google had no answers for his questions and the baby still weeped.
So Michael did the only thing he could do. Go on people’s ask.fm’s and ask the same questions he interrogated Google with. Sadly, no one took Michael seriously, since he was asking the dumbest questions in the world and asked as anonymous.
However, Michael did get one answer.
“Unless you’re a fucking seahorse, I suggest you get the fuck off my page you creep.”
This response made Michael curious.
Briskly, Michael typed “seahorse” into Google. The small, almost linear creature, as blue as the sky, although on Google the seahorses are yellow, but he insisted that they were blue because… Horsea…
Stubborn mother fucker.
Anyway, they were blue as the skype logo, and as stupid as Michael’s pet hamster, who had ran into the heating system in his house years ago. The seahorse was perfect. Michael would then call himself, “The SeaHorse” from then on.
The baby lied in Michael’s arms, sleeping soundly as he rocked it. Michael smiled. He was now a single mother..
“I am now a single mother, fending the evils of this world off from my baby! I will name my baby……. ooo… Chris!”
UHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH…what the fuck….