This is part one of a two part project about how I created my new friend, Arnold. Read on.
I was feeling pretty strung out when I woke up this morning because I'd had a Dr. Pepper the night before. For some reason, any kind of mind expanding stimulant/drug (caffeine in this case) produces a dangerously powerful effect on me, and causes a severe hangover the day after. I do not regret it, because those 23 flavors were intense to the point of a vertical orgasm. Anyway, I wanted to turn my negative vibes into something productive, so I set out on a journey across town to learn about the universe and hopefully gain something from life experiences. What happened... well... is thoroughly history.
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| Beginning |
I hadn't left my basement in a while, hence the squinty eyes. This is where it all started, man. I originally had the idea of going around town until I found someone willing to smoke a cigarette with me and take a picture alongside me, but that whole thing went out the window when I realized that Helena is rife with unfriendly people and idiots.
I was told I could only go right, but things need to go the wrong way sometime, man. I had to keep pushing. "Movin' on over", as those musical fuckers might say. I can't quite remember the name of that song, but those lyrics have stuck with me to this day. I wanted to cross the street, but some idiots pulled all the way out into the intersection, obscuring the walk sign on the opposite side and making me have to walk all the way around their car to make it. I had to glance through their windows (rude, in my opinion, but
necessary) to see that I was allowed to cross.
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| I ended up at Town Pump, waiting for someone to come up. |
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I assumed that someone would enjoy a free cigarette, but people seemed to avoid me. I guess people aren't keen on making friends with a zombified-looking freak slowly destroying his lungs. Who would have guessed it? Not me. But I'm no guesser. Guess.
So I left, and weird shit started happening. It might have been all that cough syrup I drank this morning. All I know is that as soon as I hit up that tire place parking lot, "terrible things were happening all around me." Like blood on the sidewalk, for example. "Something horrible must have happened here," I thought, twiddling my thumbs below the waist and looking to the sky. "I've got to do something about this." I howled like a banshee, running down the sidewalk toward a nearby Starbucks. Seeing two teenage female pedestrians across the street, a strange thought came to my mind. "Should I offer
them cigarettes and willingly promote underage smoking online?" It was an appealing idea, but they were walking away with a grade of rapidity far surpassing my own, and I decided to nix the whole concept.
All these fucking messages were coming at me at lightspeed, terrible warnings, omens of an ill fate I'd yet to find. Disaster was indeed striking, because I had this intense pain in the chest, and it was growing, gaining in gravity. I was just glad I wasn't in Butte; those drunkards would have eaten my dying carcass alive. Something crossed my mind as I was told to desist by that whimsical sign, something that hadn't come to fruition, but was building like rocks in a robin's nest. The idea: I was missing something, and I had to find it. "Absolutely." I don't know why I said it, but I said it aloud, talking to myself like some schizophrenic nazi on the edge of society. Then it came out of nowhere like a baseball on a diamond. God damn, I love metaphorical nonsense.
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| The bitch was just sitting there on the pavement. I had no idea who Jason Aldean was until I googled it, just a few minutes ago. Country. Figures. Nevertheless, this was the beginning to an odyssey of item collection that would conclude in Arnold's creation. | |
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I pocketed the CD and kept on truckin', eventually rounding off at Town Pump once again, at that same fateful stoplight that had plagued me before. I didn't have any money, but I wasn't going to pay outrageous prices for something as simple as Pepsi. In fact, the idea of $1.50 bottles of Pepsi was so insulting, I decided to pick up a clod of wheat and dirt to represent the whole thing. I'd rather carry around filth than pay those court-mandated costs.
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| Here's the bitch now. |
So here I was, walking with a CD in one hand, and compost in the other. I got across the street with ease this time (those motherfuckers weren't anywhere to be seen). As I grazed through the sidewalk, what did I see to my left? A hubcap on the ground literally looked at me and said, "oh hey." I didn't know what to think about it. I just stood there, thinking about thought, musing about muddling, nosy shit. Finally, coming to a conclusion that required me to place my hand on my face, I said, "you can come with me," and I picked it up, grasping it firmly to ensure its safe travel. I got home soon after.
ASSEMBLY!
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| The cap, the CD, and the dirt. I had them all put together, but to my dismay I soon realized that there were three remaining holes to fill. This wouldn't do. | | |
