Tale 067 ~Bye Braxton, Buy Virgil~

I was pretty young, buying my first Fleshlight, a camera, and… well, I must have been. Now, I’d have to have express delivery for anything I want for E-Day. Not like Heaven… or Hell delivers. The Olds have bad news. V’s quiet. Bye Braxton, Buy Virgil

Wednesday, September 6, 2023

Tale 067 ~Bye Braxton, Buy Virgil~

Forgive Me, Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, or should I call myself a thief? Inspector, I’m far worse. A liar, a manipulator… murderer?

“Why can’t I just be normal?” Can’t I play Far Cry 5 or watch a movie as E-Day approaches? Um? I could buy a PS5. I didn’t say that? And even if I were for real, I wouldn’t make time to play it. I’m not even watching “Home Security Guard 2” after downloading it. Inspector, it’s still Sunday, September 3, 2023. I’m still “Turning Japanese,” I really think so. But we’ll get to that. I keep saying that, Inspector, and there’s Emergence Day. God, I wish I could say more about this existence. And you know what I want more than Braxton back. Extinction? But no, Inspector, I’m sitting here napping, procrastinating, etc. At least Virgil’s still alive and well. I paid for Braxton’s… Euthanasia.

But let’s talk about what I’ve been buying on the second worst day existing, Inspector. As I’ve said, I’ve been looking at what the critic likes and dislikes: languages sometimes. Anyway, I don’t know who I’m paying. Russians, Japanese, the greedy Republicans with their “kinks.” Either way, I’m not a good person. Hell! I’m even keeping my pants on, ha. There’s this place right here. I’m sitting in bed, not working on escaping the Day Job. But I want to talk. And I want the critic to say whatever about my speech, even with corrections. And I mentioned something about some nasty chicken I bought, but it wasn’t Pizza Hut. I don’t expect Braxton’s Aunt to buy me a pizza for E-Day again. Good girl.

I don’t want to think about what I will buy on E-Day. When Braxton was here, there was always food and even cake. There could be a full night’s sleep, Inspector. Though being the greedy so-and-so I am, I always want more. Emergence, Existence, Extinction, uh? Anytime would be good to join my boy. And with what the Olds might say about their son at thirty-nine that has done absolutely nothing with the existence they permitted… Inspector, I am afraid. That’s something else I can’t get for E-Day. Love and happiness, peace of mind, Echo. There’s also the idea of a piece of… again, the critic, censorship, and cowardice. Inspector, I can’t say goodbye or buy my way out of this. Time remains priceless, Inspector.

948 Days Without B III, Day 389 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 060 ~E-Day Fools Virgil, B~

I meant to explain what E-Day is? Hell! I can’t explain why I get out of bed in the morning. I’d like to say for fifteen years, it was because Braxton needed me to. Or my Olds said so. There’s Virgil. He’s still alive, I exist. E-Day Fools Virgil, B.

Wednesday, August 30, 2023

Tale 060 ~E-Day Fools Virgil, B~

Forgive Me, Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now. Which means I don’t have to EVOLVE. Republicans haven’t. And you know what B stands for…

Emergence? Wait, that doesn’t start with a B. But instead of talking about Braxton’s death. Let me be a selfish “person” since it’s my day. Well, counting today, it will be in T-minus 9 days. Then again, I’m time-traveling. And I’ve already screwed up with my critic on being clear, concise, and making my case. The comedian is dead. I should be, but here goes…

What is E-Day? Again, let us begin with Emergence and why I won’t vote Republican. With women, I’m Pro-Choice. Let women do whatever they want. But with my Ma… sigh. Come E-Day, she should have done some thinking. And that’s an insult, I know, Inspector. Both me and my younger sister were C-sections. She wanted us here alive and well.

Existence for me, though… If I had my way… I would not recommend it. Like ever. I try my hardest not to say words like life or live. That is not what this is, Inspector. Questions such as What is my favorite movie, set of mammaries, type of music, etc., Echo. I couldn’t tell you any of it. But right above that line, “Funny when you’re dead how people start listenin'” from The Band Perry. There’s “Feeling super, super (super!) suicidal” from Marina and The Diamonds, Teen Idle. And God, I know Inspector, turning thirty-nine. And what have I done? Or rather, why have I done nothing but exist, Inspector? My greatest accomplishment was my son Braxton. I thought I was being selfish today. Right?

Extinction though? Erasure, euthanasia… Hell! Evil! My boy should be here. And how dare I even think that he was the lucky one. I don’t disrespect my Ma, Little B, and how about myself. Uh. I disrespect myself all the time. But I don’t get off light Echo, not ever. I’m not a man of faith, but as the song goes, “Everybody wanna go to heaven. But nobody wants to die.” I want to Inspector. But this is Hell, and I am right where I belong. Only I cry out, “What’s my crime!” Which is worse? I was around seven or eight, asking, “What the Hell is going on?” Or killing my best friend at thirty-six?” Doesn’t matter; I’m still breathing. E-Day Fools Virgil, B

941 Days Without B III, Day 382 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will