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simon keyes

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[This one is dedicated to all the peeps who've met that special someone: The guy you can bring home to murder everyone you don't like and maybe one or two of the people you do. You haven't decided yet. But now is not the time of murdering, it's the time of hanging out watching TV shows made for children with a bunch of hoarded animals and eating shitty takeout burgers and/or ramen.]

Global Hero Onyankopon could kick Steel Samurai's ass, though.

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[Keeps driving :|||| ]

[ Eventually get bored and stops eating (to be polite), leaning against the window and looking outside quietly. ]

[Glancing over occasionally, but not seeing any need to prompt him to talk or anything. Eventually they get back to Simon's place.]

[ Finally reaches over and punches Simon's leg (gently). ]

We can bring the pizza up with us. I guess? You into cold pizza?

It would still be warm if you'd left the box shut.

[Taking it, though.]

Admit it, you're happy.

Me? I don't even know what that word means.

[ Diving into a cat pile, wherever it may be. ]

THIS is happiness.

[Probably all up on the furniture getting hair on everything, like the actual worst pets that cats are. Simon banishes all the animals from his chair, sending out the hummingbids to fetch his TV remote and the chipmunks to bring him a beer.]

Let's turn on the news.

So you can jerk off to my great success, master?

So you can jerk me off to your great success.

[A pause, and then, because this probably needs clarifying:]

Once I'm done eating.

Yeah, I'm not letting you do both at once. That's The Dream and hell if I'm gonna let you live it.

Hand jobs and pizza are the dream? You're the lowest-budget hedonist I've ever met.

There was a girl back... there. And she quested to get some poison from me. And she could shapeshift, yeah? So she turned into me and fucked me in the ass.

[ Drumming his fingers on a cat tummy. ]

A little more imaginative, in a narcissistic sort of way. Sorry to say, I can only do the voice.

[Finds a channel that's reporting on HOLY SHIT IT'S A HEAD and waves his remote in the general direction of the TV.]

This, right here. This is my dream, or a small piece of it.

What, being a famous serial killer? Most people wanna be shit like a singer, or a doctor.

I want to live in a world where no one can push me around or step on me.

And to do that, you decided to be a clown. So you can destroy children.

I decided to become a clown because I needed a job that moved around, paid under the table, and didn't care that I was underage.

That makes you sound like a hooker.

What, you never thought about running away to join the circus when you were a kid?

No, because clowns are fucking terrifying. And I liked my foster parents.

Mine was going to kill me, so there you go.

Anyway, becoming a clown wasn't the goal. I like clowns well enough, but what I really wanted was to work with the animals. But you have to work up to that, especially when you're presenting a really wimpy persona.

Oh... you're one of those people with the sad backstories.

Wasn't that obvious? Normal people don't turn out like me.