My application, your judgement
This does not constitute a good example of my writing. I came up with it in the middle of work because I felt like the life was being drained from my ears by a particularly bad reading of an audio book. If somebody likes it I can develop the characters and add more of a backstory. It might just be raw enough to not suck. You decide.
Title: The Report
Status: Applicant
Summary: Listen to the incredibly droll lifeless voice from a bad audio book for as long as I did and you'd write this too.
Genre: Adult Crap
Word Count: ~610
Theodore snarled into the intercom, "Stop fucking around and give me the
shitty fucking thing." A grizzled, disgusting looking woman no older than 35
years opened the door to his office. "Fucking shit" he said, making sure to
sound as disapproving as possible. "There", the secretary spit as she flung
the paper at Theodore and walked out of the room with a sort of march of
anger as if she would slug the first man who gave her so much as a grimace.
"What the fuck? Oh God DAMN it", Theodore proclaimed to nobody in
particular. "Does nobody look at these fucking things? There's like, an hour
and a half of dead air here and nobody's looked into it. Shit!" Theodore ran
his finger across the report tracing the highs and lows of reported CAN
audience elation. If there were significant dips in the elation or large
peaks which didn't coincide to a particular enjoyable event it was to be
flagged and reviewed by the censors.
In some cases the elation monitors would fail, causing a flat report of
nothing and prevent him from doing his job. This wasn't a new
development: the monitors routinely failed each week, sometimes daily. But
the CAN monitor support staff should have been watching for the failure in
order to restart it so monitoring could continue. Theodore knew that the
support staff was meagerly trained and very unmotivated to the point of
almost not caring if they did their job or not. What Theodore knew
compounded the stupidity of the situation was that the monitor was a piece
of junk, and if anyone took the time to fix it properly they probably
wouldn't need such support staff in the first place. A set of automated
tasks could even maintain the system and restart the monitoring if anyone
took the time to set it up.
Still, Theodore knew there was no way this problem would ever be solved
until the entire system was replaced with something that had a high
likelihood of being even more broken than the last system. "This place is so
fucked," he thought. "I wish they'd fucking shoot the lot of them."
Just at that moment, an embolism caused Theodore's brain to stop receiving oxygen.
He proptly gave a muffled sort of gurgle, shat himself and fell over. "Are you
ok?" his secretary murmured in an annoyed manner, quickly forgetting the
sound she heard, resuming her text message to her south american lover
describing the deviant and corrupt ways she wanted to please him but would
never in reality. Her libito was hightened by years of molestation by her
uncle but she was incapable of completing any of her perverse lusty desires
due to an intense fear of intimacy and flashbacks of her rape as a child.
Later on when she would discover Theodore's disfigured and hours-dead body,
she would be so excited she would tear down her panties and mount his face
to rub her clit on his dead cold face. His nose and mouth would find its way
up into her vagina and she would shudder and clench his stiff face between
her thick wobbly thighs. As she looked down into his dead eyes, eyes which
seemed to perfectly express exactly how she felt during all those years of
soul-crushing sexual abuse, she felt the most dirty, debased, evil and sick
feeling that she ever thought possible. She let out a long scream - an
exclamation of her life-long filthy pleasures being fulfilled - as a violent
orgasm crashed over her bent sweating frame. It would be the most thrilling
sexual experience of her life.
The End