StoryTellers’ Short Story Collection: Moral Short Stories
A Problem of Paradoxes
By: Christian Arguinizoni
Jim stands in his bedroom. It just so happens that today, the 23rd of October, 2009, is this young man’s birthday. Though it was fourteen years ago he was given life, it is only now that he will wake up with all of his memories intact! Anyway.
Jim stands up. He finds instinct guiding his meek body towards the horrible, terrifying torture device known as alarm clock. He finds a hammer within the contents of his eugolahctpac, which is captchalogue backwards, which in turn is a Homecrap reference, which in turn means the sanity of the author is compromised. Wow, we sure are getting off track. Shit. Anyway. Again.
Jim retrieves the hammer from his eugolahctpac, which also contains lighter, matchsticks, matchbox, flint and steel, candle, flamethrower, and weapon of mass destruction that also just so happens to be yet another flamethrower. He proceeds to smash the alarm clock with the hammer, in as clichèd a manner as possible. It does not shatter into infinitesimal pieces as popular media may have taught you, however. It just leaves a large dent. Jim—oh look, he’s getting a message from his Golretsep, which is not a reference to anything when spelled backwards! He ambles on over to his computer to open his Golretsep. It reads:
INCOMING DIRECT MESSAGE FROM: dankPantolonez1
dP1: yo jim. wsg /// pyroticAsylum001: shut the actual hell up with your bullshit internet conversation conventions. saying wsg is a disgrace to humanity. /// dP1: you’re a disgrace to humanity then B) /// pA001: that checks out. anyway wtf do you want /// dP1: such hostility. i only wanted to tell you that i’ve mailed you this cryptic looking game, lEVIT. it doesn’t have like. a description. but i just thought it might be fun. /// pA001: alright cool cool. whens it going to be here /// dP1: idk i mailed it like a week ago so it should be there soon /// pA0001: ok. ig ill tell you when it gets here. /// dP1: aight later loser
Jim looks around at his room. It’s familiar, yet that familiarity feels oddly unfamiliar, in the most convoluted backwards way possible. Almost artificial. Except that’s not really the right word either. From a bird’s eye view: bed in the top-left corner, large storage vessel in the top-right corner, table in the bottom right corner with a computer setup and a narrow book stand directly to the left of it, with a closet-type container in the bottom left corner; various items are scattered upon the closet, there’s a computer table for the computer setup, a bed, the such.
Many posters are on the wall, many of them black and white, for Jim has an interest for terrible old movies from the 40’s, 50’s, and 60’s. He walks over to one of these posters. It reads, “The Incredible Paris Incident”. Wow, that movie sucked. It really was the epitome of “bad 60’s superhero movies.” He also occasionally likes to play games with his friends, such as Pantalones. Although you might know him better as dankPantolonez1.
DING-DONG SON OF A BITCH. Oh, hey! That must be the game! Although there’s no real way of actually knowing that, because a character said there should be a package coming very soon, that must mean that that’s the package. John scurries on over to downstairs and to his front door as fast as his tiny legs can carry him (Jim is 5’9, unlike the author, with unnaturally short legs. Just like Saitama. Totally!). He opens the door, and immediately gets distracted by something outside.
Well. Not anything in particular. Just, the sun reflecting off a car in some particular way. The grass, somewhat trampled because of godknowswhat. The other few housing units in the street adjacent to his. A woman walking along the sidewalk, with her dog following closely behind. The few weeds in his neighbor’s small plot of lawn, how they seem to wave at him, what with the wind blowing it softly. Noise from a different house upon the other side of street, looks like a party going on. The smoke stacks from a local high school, rising up into the air. The large set of stairs that one creepy neighbor has, coming upwards at a steep incline. A cloud, shaped almost like one of these various houses on the street. Jim momentarily feels the urge to proceed, to get out of his own home, but it fades soon thereafter. He feels stuck here sometimes.
Anyway (again again again) Jim jumps up with the joy of a toddler about to chug inexplicably horrible and terribly expired milk. The package is a pale yellow, and has the word lEVIT on it . . . in Comic Sans? What the fuck? What horrible type of blasphemy is this? Jim is disgusted at seeing this, and almost drops it on the floor. Instead, however, he turns it around to see what other blasphemous war crimes this inanimate object is going to commit. He doesn’t see any other words though. Only a logo. And what a strange logo. It’s a black disk at an angle, like Saturn’s ring.
But there isn’t a planet the disk is around. It’s a three dimensional heart (not the organ), although it looks a little deformed. Like the center was pushed in somehow. A dent of sorts. Very odd. He opens the package, which is very thin, and inside is the disk (the one meant to go into the computer). This disk, meant to go into the computer, is a pale yellow with that odd logo in the center, partially blocked by the circle shaped-hole in the middle of the disk.
Well. Better fire it up in the ol’ computer.
Jim walks back into his house, up the stairs, and into his room, which just so happened to be only one of two rooms on the second floor. Not that their house was very big—it was really more like a condo—but still. Jim went to his computer, and messaged Pantalones.
DIRECT MESSAGE TO: dankPantalonez1
pA001: dude i got the game. it came with utmost timing, that timing being directly after you said you’d mailed it to me a week ago. but that is besides the point. im about to fire it up, have you already put it in too? do you even know what the hell this is supposed to be /// dP1: i did actually. i learned fuckin JACK SHIT :DDDD though because it just like opened the windows terminal and it said “INPUT SERVER PLAYER IP ADDRESS” so i guess i need your shitty ip address? /// pA001: yeah sure it’s [REDACTED BOZO] /// dP1: alright ill put that shit in /// pA001: whats wrong with my ip address 🙁 /// dp1: it’s an issue of your perpetual skill. /// pA001: i bet that will be a common phrase, just worded differently in exactly 11 years or so. /// dP1: yeah something like “skill issue” or some shit. alright hurry up and put the damn disk in your computer /// pA001: alright ill do it now. also id assume i need your ip address too so /// dp1: ok its [REDACTED AGAIN BOZO NICE TRY]
Jim inserts the disk into his computer’s disk drive. The terminal popped up, with a similar message to Pantalones’: “INSERT SERVER CONTROLLER’S IP ADDRESS”. He put in his IP address, and shortly after a series of technobabble crapshit lines of text, it disappears. After a couple minutes, still nothing has happened. He opens up Golretsep to message Pantalones again.
DIRECT MESSAGE TO: dankPantalonez1
pA001: so like is shit supposed to actually happen or /// dP1: literally no clue /// pA001 ok /// dP1: oh wait what the hell another thing just opened /// pA001: wait seriously what is it. /// pA001: uh you there pantalones. /// pA001. uh.
What in the actual hell just happened. Jim begins to worry about this software he’s installed. He’s heard of his other friends getting viruses on their machines before, but wasn’t Pantalones sent this software by someone through mail? If they wanted to infect Pantalones’ computer, aren’t there other, more effective and easier ways of doing so? Like email?
It was then, in his state of static wonderment, in which an earthquake began.
—
chapter two.
Jim jumps out of his chair. He feels pressure under his feet, almost as if he were going up in an elevator. He hears a soft sort of . . . ground-breakage sound?? Dirt crumpling, almost? Swiftly he runs down the stairs, and to the door. He opens it, flying out. But he stops, for the ground seems to end with a sharp cliff downwards, leading to his neighborhood below. It is only then he fully realizes what is happening: his house, along with a portion of the land around his house, is flying upwards, into space.
He has a panic attack real quick, until the portion of his land and house stops flying up into the air. At this point, he is so far up he can’t see the rest of his neighborhood when looking down. He equips flashlight from his eugolahctpac, turns it on, and points it downwards into the seeming abyss to see if he could see anything. He couldn’t. He looks around, looking to inspect the current situation more in depth. He unequips his flashlight, putting it in the farthest slot in his eugolahctpac, making it now completely full. He’d have to empty it out soon. But:
INCOMING DIRECT MESSAGE FROM: dankPantalonez1
dP1: so /// pA001: yes it also happened to me what the hell is going on /// dP1: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ /// pA001: haha i am currently at this very moment in time laughing at that hilarious joke /// dp1: twasn’t a joke just a dumb silly bozo shitfacepooper way of saying i have literally no clue. /// pA001: i realize it is makeshift irony just kidd holy shithishisthiiaopehf is your house also moving at this moment /// dP1: yes. not sure where it’s moving exactly but i don’t really think it matters at this point. as long as it’s what the fucking fuckity fucker motherfucking piece of fuck what is that one sec brb // pA001: whjat
Pantalones did not immediately respond. Jim waited, but after a couple minutes he got a tad bit restless. He decided to go back outside to do what he originally intended: inspect his surroundings further. But then he immediately got distracted again, but this time not by Pantalones. This time, it was a giant house on an island basically identical to his that was coming straight for him! Awesome! Wait a second . . .
INCOMING DIRECT MESSAGE TO: dankPantalonez1
pA001: ok i’m probably going to sound pretty stupid asking this if i’m wrong but /// dP1: yes /// pA0001: okay cool i just wanted to know. we are talking about the same thing though rig /// dP1: yes /// pA001: ah alright. wait does this mean i get to meet y /// dP1: yes!! fair warning though i look incredibly normal and you will likely but disappointed asf so thats pretty cool and that /// pA001: i do not give a sh1t. /// dP1: yeah i know you wouldn’t but still. /// pA001: yes. i look whatever if you’re wondering which i bet you are /// dP1: i was and i too do not give a shit. worse case scenario you look like hella jeff /// pA001: haha yeah sweet bro and hella jeff i’d want to be sweet bro though probably. /// dP1: do you think these islands are going to collide i feel like they are pretty close to each other now /// pA001: yeah i cant really see all that well from my current position but it lo
It was at this point, he knew, he fu—. No.
It was at this point the islands collided. Jim’s computer fell off his table, narrowly missing his philtrum. Or his head, rather. Other various objects fell to the ground, such as some of his amazing awesome great good super lovely and horribly wonderful movie posters. But as fast as it came, it was over. Sort of. Jim pushed off of his table, in which one of the legs was now broken, and got up. He was mildly surprised he didn’t die. Pretty sweet. Wait but. Did Pantalones die????
Jim rushes down the staircase, dashes out the door, and sprints across the two islands, after checking to make sure it was safe to cross. It was. Pantalones’ house seems to be a little bit smaller than his, and . . . there is no door on the front? Jim realizes it is probably at the back or one of the sides of the house, so he walks to the left side first, to check. He sees no door, so keeps on going around, in a clockwise fashion. On the back there’s nothing either, so it must be on the right side, or the front side (I think???) from his perspective. Just as he’s about to turn the corner, though, something catches his eye.
He looks to the left, expecting to see someone, but instead sees something instead. It’s on the ground—khaki pants? And. It’s.
The khaki pants are moving. What the hell. Like it’s having a fucking seizure right now.
With suddenness (real word), the khaki pants transforms. Actually no it literally just disappears. Instead now, somehow, in some way, Jim isn’t standing on an island in space anymore, he’s standing in. Uh. A desert???? Confused, he looks around. The ground is a pale tan color, but there isn’t any sign of like, a cactus or something. He walks forward, vaguely, and proceeds to walk directly off the desert, into nothing. Well, actually, it is something. Except. Well.
Okay, let me try that one again. Jim is standing on a very small square, or patch of a tan floor thing. It is maybe three feet squared. He walks off of it, into space, not realizing that it was so small, and he didn’t fall off, as if there was some sort of other invisible floor. He looks down, and realizes this. He processes it for a moment then slowly backs up in a “state of static wonderment” (Arguinzoni, 2), and then is transported back to the island, and the pants are. A hat. A top hat. WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON HERE???????????????????????????
The top hat transforms into a person because of course it does. This person is out of breath. Jim stands there, he is pensive. What xkcd-science related phenomenon could be taking place at this very moment? Perhaps a hallucination oh my god the person is talking what did they just say.
“jim?” says the unknown (((shapeshifting?))) figure of sorts.
“Pantalones?” says Jim, who is only semi-convinced that he is talking to Pantalones. “uh.” Pantalones says. He smiles awkwardly, almost as awkwardly as the word awkward is to type. Jim returns the awkward smile with his very own awkward smile, making an attempt to be as awkward as possible. It works. They proceed to stand there for a couple more moments until Jim decides to just cut the shit already and attempt to have a normal conversation with this person.
“So to cut this conversation to a point in which we start talking normally like any other regular human people would do I believe that we should attempt to make some sort of evaluation of the events that have just occurred and how in the actual h*ll you(?) just shapeshifted(?) or whatever just happened with the thingie and the other thingie, you know what I mean wow I sound dumb.” Jim monologues. Pantalones responds with a smile that makes a solemn attempt at crossing his face just a lil’ bit more. He succeeds. It wasn’t very hard.
“yeah. so. what do you think happened. i’m just kind of flabbergasted by the amount of stupid stupidity related things that just happened in like five seconds so I don’t really know what to make of it all. i think i just shapeshifted because i could like literally feel my soul in a not spiritual way just like peel out of my ass and go into that like three by three piece of desert land square thing that was a pale tan or whatever.” Pantalones replies.
“I see. That’s pretty cool. I’d probably be a bit more confused if this happened out of context just like when we were on Earth—or are we still on Earth I really don’t know—but you know what I mean. This lEVIT is already proving to be quite the Thing™.” Jim replies in reply to Pantalones reply.
“right. not to digress just yet from lEVIT but i think it would be worth it to just like consider that our little expository conversation here isn’t going to be all that normal considering we already know all sorts of shit about each other already through Golretsep.” Pantalones replies in reply to Jim replying to his reply.
“Yeah, no, I know what you mean.” Jim replies in reply to Pantalones replying to okay this is stupid I give up.
“right, well. do you think something is going to happen or—”
Of course something happens right as Pantalones asks if something is going to happen because that’s how books work I think.
The thing that happens is a—okay well so if you’ve ever watched Wild Kratts then you’ll know about that like miniaturizer thing. If you don’t know about that like Wild Kratts miniaturizer thing then please search up “that like Wild Kratts miniaturizer thing” because that’s basically what the device that just appeared looks like.
This device has a timer on it, counting down from . . . 00000000000000000:3:4:9:23? Assumedly that means 0 years, 3 days, 4 hours, 9 minutes and 23 seconds but god knows what that really means (for sake of not having to explain more crap that’s what it means). It also has something on top of it. It looks like a transparent glass box sort of thing, except it’s floating and the implications of that are confusing (how is it floating????? what is going on??? does physics exist??? wtf Einstein????) It’s about the size of a very very large microwave, and it looks like it has some sort of metal handle on it. A very thin one. Abnormally thin. But isn’t everything here abnormal?
“what that” Pantalones remarks smartly.
“What.” Jim replies smartly also. Pantalones clears his throat.
“excuse my horrible internet manners what i meant to say is what is that. on a completely unrelated note, what is that?” Pantalones said.
“okay nevermind that’s a really stupid question of course you have no idea.” He adds on.
“Yeah, pretty much answered your own question.” Jim replysponds.
Jim walks over to the WKMD (Wild Kratts Miniaturization Device [this is how the device will be referred to from now on until we know its real name {it will be revealed not soon by the way haha lol}]) for further inspection. It has no sort of label, only a button. There is a purple one, and a red one. These buttons also have no label. Jim gestures for Pantalones to come over yonder as well, and he does.
“You think we should . . .” Jim said.
“yes.” Pantalones replies.
“Alright, pick one then.”
Pantalones presses the purple button with his pinky finger in a delicately and consequently humorous manner.
A sort of hologram thing pops up. It reads
“ERROR: NO ITEM TO PROTOTYPE WITHIN PROTIPICATION CAPSULE” Jim reads.
“i guess we should put something in that box thing then.”
“Alright, but let’s press the red button first.”
“sure.” (you’ll notice I’m not using the “Jim” or “Pantalones said/says/replies/whatever” snippets anymore, because their typing quirks make them recognizable enough. This will not be the case for all characters, only ones that you have gotten to know their quirk enough to be able to instantly recognize it and correlate that to their actual name.)
Jim presses the red button.
PEW POW BAM BIDDLY BOOP BOP AND OTHER ONOMATOPOEIA a laser thing shoots up from the WKMD that is of the same circumference of the WKMD. It’s pinkish purplish reddish and . . . and it’s gone now 🙁
Right, well, that was cool while it lasted. In place of the COOL RAD AND ALSO AWESOME LASER is now a cat. And hovering above that cat is some uncanny hologram letters that read
“Sir Bartholomew Mittens II?”
“what that i mean what is that i mean what the english iejapofsidhfea”
“Yeah, english is a little bit uh. Englishy. Sometimes. I am so good at life.” Jim sighs in pain. His sentences always come out wrong. He wished he could be a little bit more sophisticated when speaking. Maybe he should just think a little bit more before speaking.
That sounded almost as stupid as Jim.
“Anyway so what is that cat? Like. I like the name, but what the hell.”
“bro come on that cat is awesome in every way sir bartholomew is the man”
“Stop assuming gender you unpolitically correct figure.”
“no”
“Checks out.”
The cat floats down slowly, with delicacy. It’s a calico, and female (Pantalones was wrong :OOOO). It looks pretty normal—actually okay nevermind the cat has completely black eyes that look like two little black holes. Makes me feel a little bit strange, even though I’m the narrator! Crazy, I know.
Sir Bartholomew Mittens II (who I’ll be referring to as SBMII because I will not type that out over and over again), as the cat is referred to, lands on the WKMD. He walks over to Pantalones and Jim, who both simultaneously step back a little. He speaks.
“h3110 hum4n5. 1t 1s 1, S1r B4rth0l0m3w M1tt3n5 th3 Th1rd.” said SBMII.
“is the cat talking or am i hallucinating”
“I’m pretty sure that cat is talking, but I really don’t know. I thought cats weren’t supposed to talk, but I might be mistaken, who knows.”
“yeah no i think the cat is talking”
“Ah.” The cat looks agitated. I think. It’s a cat, after all.
“y0u m3r3 m0rt41s w1ll n3v3r und3rst4nd wh4t 1s 4t st4k3, 3sp3c14lly n0w th4t y0u h4v3 m4d3 th3 d3c1s10n to act1v4t3 lEVIT 4g41n.” (quick side note: for those who can not comprehend what this cat is saying, here’s a quick guide: 0 = O, 3 = E, 4 = A, 5 = S [sometimes], and 1 = either L or I, whichever the cat chooses; also this information will be completely irrelevant in about ten sentences)
“are you suggesting that you are not a mortal? wait you’re a cat so i guess you’re right. actually, what are you? and what the hell is going on with your eyes?”
The cat shakes his head, looking a little confused too.
“5uch puny m0rt4ls. 1 tru1y c4n n0t b3l13v3 th4t y0u d0n’t und3rst4nd th3 c0ns3qu3nc3s 0f 4ct1v4ting lEVIT. h4v3n’t y0u b33n thr0ugh th3 ffakescient 4lr34dy?”
“the ffakescient?”
“Are we meant to know what that means?”
The cat looks less confused now, and a little relieved.
“4h, 1 gu3ss 1’m y0ur gguidiant.”
“i don’t really want to repeat what you say anymore so could you just tell us what a guidiant is?”
“y0u s4y 1t wr0ng. y0u must pr0n0unc3 th3 “G” tw1c3.”
“i’m very sorry.”
“ap0l0gy 4cc3pt3d. 4nyw4y, 4 gguidiant 15 0k4y w41t.” SBMII looks a little annoyed now, and frustrated.
“I KEEP ON GETTING THE NUMBERS MIXED UP AND HAVING TO EDIT MY ST SO I GUESS I’LL JUST MAKE THIS MY SPEAKING QUIRK.” SBMII said.
“and what the fuck might a speaking quirk be?”
“IT’S KIND OF HARD TO EXPLAIN, BUT WHEN GO THROUGH THE FFAKESCIENT YOU’LL BE ABLE TO SEE A SORT OF HOLOGRAPHIC-ESQUE TEXT TO EACH OTHERS SIDES, TO BETTER DISTINGUISH WHO YOU ARE, BECAUSE SOME OF THE CREATURES YOU’LL ENCOUNTER AFTER THE FFAKESCIENT ARE VISUALLY IMPAIRED.” SBMII replies.
“how would they be able to see the text then” (side note again: Jim is just kind of standing here, awkwardly. Neither Pantalones or SBMII give a shit though).
“WELL, Y’SEE, THAT’S THE THING WITH THE HOLOGRAPHIC TEXT. IT’S ALSO GIVES YOU KIND OF A . . . WHAT DO YOU MORTALS CALL IT. IT JUST KIND OF GIVES YOU A VIBE, Y’KNOW WHAT I MEAN?” SBMII replies—reply combo 2x!
“not really but go on. could you first tell us what exactly we’re supposed to do though besides wait for this timer or whatever to go off”
“OKAY SURE. YOU’RE NOT REALLY SUPPOSED TO DO ANYTHING EXCEPT FOR PREPARING YOUR PROTOTYPE. I ASSUME YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT THAT IS.”
“i do not.”
“ALRIGHT SO THE PROTOTYPE IS SOME RANDOM-ASS OBJECT THAT YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO PUT INTO THAT BOX OVER THERE. IT HAS TO FIT INSIDE THE BOX, OR ELSE SOME REALLY NOT GOOD STUFF COULD (POTENTIALLY) HAPPEN. WHAT YOU PUT INSIDE YOUR BOX WILL DETERMINE YOUR PIECE, WHICH EVOLVES INTO YOUR SPECIALITIES.
“BOTH YOUR PIECE AND YOUR SPECIALITY OKAY ACTUALLY I REALLY AM NOT GOING TO EXPLAIN THIS RIGHT NOW I WILL NOT BE A CONVENIENT TRANSMITTENT OF CRUCIAL PLOT POINTS TO YOU. YOU’LL JUST HAVE TO FIGURE IT OUT ON YOUR OWN ALRIGHT NOW GO AWAY.”
“what do you mean plot points what is the context are we in a story who the hell are you and why are you still talking and a cat also what is your issue and why won’t you tell us literally anything?”
“WOW THAT SURE WAS A LOT OF QUESTIONS IN A VERY SHORT SPAN OF TIME.”
“yeah so are you going to answer any of them or no”
“NO.”
“alright. can you at least give us a little bit more info about this prototype thing because “speciality” and “piece” are both very big words and big words are scary. it also sounds to me that whatever we put in that box is going to be our like special magicky powers or whatever too so.”
“I MEAN YEAH IT SOUNDS LIKE YOU PRETTY MUCH HAVE IT IN THE BAG, SO TO SPEAK. I’M NOT TOO FAMILIAR WITH YOUR ODD LANGUAGE CONVENTIONS THOUGH, SO CORRECT ME IF I’M INCORRECT.”
“alright”
Jim decides now is a good time to step into the conversation.
“So, do you think we should do that then, Pantalones?”
“what like put something in the box thing”
“Yeah, that’s what I was referring to.”
“then yeah sure i guess. wait, cat dude. does the thing we put in the box thing affect both of our pieces and specialities or what.”
“NO, WHOEVER PUTS THE OBJECT INTO THE BOX GETS THEIR PIECE. ALSO, YOU DON’T “GET” YOUR SPECIALITY. YOUR PIECE EVENTUALLY EVOLVES INTO YOUR SPECIALITY(IES).”
“okay but will another box appear in this box’s place when one of us puts something in or . . .”
“OH YEAH THAT DOES IN FACT HAPPEN I FORGOT.”
“okay. do you want to go first, jim, or no”
“I’m fine with whatever. I don’t really know what to put in mine box thing though so.”
“i mean it could just be like, and object or something. the box is pretty damn big so you could probably have chair powers or some shit.”
“Yeah, chair powers actually sound like they could be . . . I dunno, a thing. Like, being able to just fucking fling chairs from thin air at people, and take off the wood rods to impale people does have some potential. I guess I’ll go get a chair then.
“wait but make sure you get like a metal chair or something or something hard because the type of chair probably matters.”
“Oh yeah, you’re right. I’ll look around then for a particularly sturdy chair, then.”
Jim starts to walk back to his house, but Pantalones stops him.
“for the sake of convenience, just take one from my house.”
“Alright, thanks.”
Jim walks back over, and into Pantalones’ house, with Pantalones following right behind him.
Now is probably a good time to end the chapter considering this chapter is like 3x the length of the previous one. I guess I’ll do that.
—
chapter three.
Jim continues to walk over the Pantalones house/condo (he was pretty sure it was a condo a few minutes ago, but now that he’s walking over to it he’s not so sure). He reaches for the doorknob, twists, and it opens. There’s a very nice doormat that says “eat stinky cheese bozo”. It’s very soft.
Jim is greeted by various objects littered across what seems to be the living room, including a PS2 (that was already 9 years old?!?!?) along with some games, such as Tony Hawk’s Pro Skater 3. Damn does Jim love that game. Why, we shall never know. There’s also a white fluffly sofa in the corner, with a comfortably-sized TV on the wall, right next to the entrance to the kitchen.
“alright, there are many chairs to choose from. wait actually i have literally the perfect one for you. come down with me to the basement.”
Jim feels a tinge of nervousness, even though he was 99.9999999999% sure Pantalones was not actually a axe-murderer. All nervousness immediately evaporated when he glanced back at the Tony Hawk’s Pro Skater 3 cartridge, however. Pantalones takes him back to right where the entrance is, where there is a set of stairs going downwards to what is assumedly the basement. Pantalones starts down the stairs, gesturing for Jim to come with.
It is at this very moment that Jim remembers about his eugolahctpac (which I will refer to as a eugo from now on because eugolahctpac is incredibly annoying to type out). He still has the lighter, matchsticks, matchbox, flint and steel, candle, flamethrower, and weapon of mass destruction that also just so happens to be yet another flamethrower! Instead of putting a chair into the prototype box, he can be smart about this an put the weapon of mass destruction that also just so happens to be yet another flamethrower into the prototype box!
He explains this to Pantalones, who agrees it would be even more awesome than the stupid-ass chair idea. Like, seriously, what were they thinking.
Pantalones takes Jim back up the stairs, and out the door.
“man you should have told me about this frickin rad hugeass flamethrower beforehand, or else i wouldn’t have suggested that you prototype a chair (although i still think the idea has some potential).”
“I just remembered I had all that inventory on me. But yeah the chair idea would have been equally as cool.”
Jim walks back over to the WKMD, and climbs on it to reach the prototype box. He unequips his WOMDTJSHTBYAF, or weapon of mass destruction that just so happens to be yet another flamethrower (it’s just a really big, really cool flamethrower), and it pops out in front of it with a loud ONOMATOPOEIA NOISE (I spelled onomatopoeia correctly first try, by the way. Hard to believe, I know). As Jim approaches the prototype box thing, it floats back down the few feet it is in the air, hitting the floor of the WKMD.
The door thing opens, but much faster than Jim intended it to open. Almost as if some force pushed it incredibly hard, causing the door to smash against itself when the door hits its side. A little confused, Jim drags in the very large flamethrower, but it doesn’t quite fit, even though the box is very large. He tries to fit it in at a diagonal angle, in which it looks like it juuuuust hardly fits. The very tip of the flamethrower (the part that throws the flames), which is shaped like a barrel, is poking out of the box a little, but it’ll probably be fine.
Jim closes the door of the prototype box thingie, and it closes with the same massive force that it opened with. Enough to—
“Oh, crap.”
Enough to crack the barrel of the flamethrower, completely throwing it off of the flamer (haha see what I did there). The prototype box floats back up into the air, it looks like it’s getting brighter?
And brighter and brighter and brighter and brighter and brighter and brighter and it’s literally as bright as the sun now.
The prototype box explodes.
END OF “a problem of paradoxes” SNIPPET
(if you want to read more, idk email Pratibaa and I’ll pass the info on to Christian)
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The Reviver’s Passage Chapter I
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