Na-NOT-WriMo Submission 3
Client - devida
Theme - Post Apocalyptic Comedy
Sentence - "It was after the 3rd glass that Ricky and Jane thought drinking distilled diesel might not be such a good idea"
BEDLAM
They called it Bedlam.
Of course, when they got round to calling it anything it was far, far too late, for us all.
Bedlam was a meme, a virus made out of information that nested in the brain of it's hosts and slowly drove the world insane. I say was... but as you can see, kid, it's just as lively today as it was back then, although now it's a lot more dangerous for the likes of you and I.
The sane ones.
I know, you try and think back to what it was like before, and you can't even begin to understand how we never noticed it. Whole nations becoming obsessed with celebrity to the point where their own health and existence was a distant second consideration. International currency, banks and stock markets existing solely on imaginary money and trading debts. Supposedly rational citizens forgetting the last year in politics, never mind the last ten or twenty.
What about the scientists? The scientists were the craziest of all; firing atoms at the speed of light into one another to see what would happen, cheerfully telling the world that the risk of causing a black hole to form was “acceptably small”.
And we just accepted it.
Crazy, I know. But we're not the crazy ones.
When you start accepting the baloney as normal, that's when you go over the edge; that's when you become one of Them. Don't worry, kid, we won't let that happen to you.
This? It's a tire iron. Don't worry about it. Where was I?
Right, Them.
Back before the collapses, people could share information across the globe in the time it takes me to snap my fingers. Pow. Made it easy for Bedlam to spread, but it also kept us safe. People had broader perceptions, and the madness wasn't as out of control as we see today. Back then, if you and your friends dressed up as pirates and roamed the streets demanding “booty or the plank” then you'd get locked up. There was still enough of society left to tell them they were wrong.
Now? Here, take a look through the binoculars. Far corner of the square. Used to call these “gardens” you know. Piccadilly Gardens. Never mind, before your time. Keep looking. See them? What? Let me have a look?
Whoa. I'll be. Heh, I guess that's today's little sign that we're still sane, eh? The fact that we can look down on a three way fight between a gang of pirates, milkmaids and cardboard robots and still think 'What the heck?” rather than just accepting it.
Milkmaids? No, don't usually see them this far into the city. They usually stick to the outskirts and work as muscle for the Farmer Giles'.
Anyway, no society any more to speak of, so no-one to tell these little groups of people just how ridiculous they are. Bedlam takes hold, and for them it's all real. Their little world builds up around them, and they think they're perfect sane. Which is why we do the little things that we do to remind ourselves that we ARE sane. The dares and the games.
No more than three ever join in on a dare, and they need at least two to watch them, and another two to listen to the stories later, so we can be sure that if a group does come back thinking what they did was normal, we can tell and we can deal with it. You'll have to go through at least a dare a week now you're old enough, though I reckon with what we've seen today we can probably both get a pass.
What do you do on a dare? You do crazy things. Something that will remind you of just how stupid you're being and what being normal is like. There's times it can get a bit out of hand, mind. You know Big Richie? Well, it was only after the third glass that Richie and Joan thought drinking distilled diesel might not be such a good idea. But it's better to be sick in the belly for a few days than get sick with Bedlam, you know.
Huh? What have you seen? What does it look like? Green rubber? Heh, darned Godzillas, must have got wind of the cardboard robots. We'll have to report them, though; they're some of the worst sorts of crazy, Godzillas; they try to demolish buildings. Usually lots of them die if and when they manage it, but some survive and they come back. Not seen any for a few years. Call it in to Mr C.
Not working? You've just got a give it a little slam. There? No? Let me.
See? It's in the wrist. Call it in. He wants to speak to me? Sure, pass it over here.
Hey, Mr C. Yeah, we've got big Gs again. Don't you worry, I'll take care of it. Yeah. Give my love to Mrs C. Out.
What? Yeah, I'm going to go down there and deal with those Godzillas. Yeah, all of them. Look, kid, we're the sane ones, and we can't have people like that bringing down the sky on us, ok? Yes, I'm going by myself; you're staying here and you're going to watch over me.
Stupid? Yes. Also dumb. But it is something I've gotta do.
Theme - Post Apocalyptic Comedy
Sentence - "It was after the 3rd glass that Ricky and Jane thought drinking distilled diesel might not be such a good idea"
BEDLAM
They called it Bedlam.
Of course, when they got round to calling it anything it was far, far too late, for us all.
Bedlam was a meme, a virus made out of information that nested in the brain of it's hosts and slowly drove the world insane. I say was... but as you can see, kid, it's just as lively today as it was back then, although now it's a lot more dangerous for the likes of you and I.
The sane ones.
I know, you try and think back to what it was like before, and you can't even begin to understand how we never noticed it. Whole nations becoming obsessed with celebrity to the point where their own health and existence was a distant second consideration. International currency, banks and stock markets existing solely on imaginary money and trading debts. Supposedly rational citizens forgetting the last year in politics, never mind the last ten or twenty.
What about the scientists? The scientists were the craziest of all; firing atoms at the speed of light into one another to see what would happen, cheerfully telling the world that the risk of causing a black hole to form was “acceptably small”.
And we just accepted it.
Crazy, I know. But we're not the crazy ones.
When you start accepting the baloney as normal, that's when you go over the edge; that's when you become one of Them. Don't worry, kid, we won't let that happen to you.
This? It's a tire iron. Don't worry about it. Where was I?
Right, Them.
Back before the collapses, people could share information across the globe in the time it takes me to snap my fingers. Pow. Made it easy for Bedlam to spread, but it also kept us safe. People had broader perceptions, and the madness wasn't as out of control as we see today. Back then, if you and your friends dressed up as pirates and roamed the streets demanding “booty or the plank” then you'd get locked up. There was still enough of society left to tell them they were wrong.
Now? Here, take a look through the binoculars. Far corner of the square. Used to call these “gardens” you know. Piccadilly Gardens. Never mind, before your time. Keep looking. See them? What? Let me have a look?
Whoa. I'll be. Heh, I guess that's today's little sign that we're still sane, eh? The fact that we can look down on a three way fight between a gang of pirates, milkmaids and cardboard robots and still think 'What the heck?” rather than just accepting it.
Milkmaids? No, don't usually see them this far into the city. They usually stick to the outskirts and work as muscle for the Farmer Giles'.
Anyway, no society any more to speak of, so no-one to tell these little groups of people just how ridiculous they are. Bedlam takes hold, and for them it's all real. Their little world builds up around them, and they think they're perfect sane. Which is why we do the little things that we do to remind ourselves that we ARE sane. The dares and the games.
No more than three ever join in on a dare, and they need at least two to watch them, and another two to listen to the stories later, so we can be sure that if a group does come back thinking what they did was normal, we can tell and we can deal with it. You'll have to go through at least a dare a week now you're old enough, though I reckon with what we've seen today we can probably both get a pass.
What do you do on a dare? You do crazy things. Something that will remind you of just how stupid you're being and what being normal is like. There's times it can get a bit out of hand, mind. You know Big Richie? Well, it was only after the third glass that Richie and Joan thought drinking distilled diesel might not be such a good idea. But it's better to be sick in the belly for a few days than get sick with Bedlam, you know.
Huh? What have you seen? What does it look like? Green rubber? Heh, darned Godzillas, must have got wind of the cardboard robots. We'll have to report them, though; they're some of the worst sorts of crazy, Godzillas; they try to demolish buildings. Usually lots of them die if and when they manage it, but some survive and they come back. Not seen any for a few years. Call it in to Mr C.
Not working? You've just got a give it a little slam. There? No? Let me.
See? It's in the wrist. Call it in. He wants to speak to me? Sure, pass it over here.
Hey, Mr C. Yeah, we've got big Gs again. Don't you worry, I'll take care of it. Yeah. Give my love to Mrs C. Out.
What? Yeah, I'm going to go down there and deal with those Godzillas. Yeah, all of them. Look, kid, we're the sane ones, and we can't have people like that bringing down the sky on us, ok? Yes, I'm going by myself; you're staying here and you're going to watch over me.
Stupid? Yes. Also dumb. But it is something I've gotta do.