Post by The Papa John's Pizza Man on May 11, 2018 18:32:44 GMT -5
-6th May 2018-
-0:12 AM-
The scene opens up at a dirty, run-down, almost empty bar. The bartender, a tough looking man in scruffy clothes cleans the glasses with a wipe despite knowing that most self-reapecting individuals, and a conceivable amount of those not in that group, would never come to a bar like this at this time of night.
The door creaks open and The Cereal Man slithers inside. Cereal box in hand. Judging by the way he clumsily stumbles towards the bartender he's most likely drunk.
The Cereal Man has a knack for entering situations where no man should be intoxicated like a barely conscious baboon. It was a strategy see. How could an opponent guess his strategy if he couldn't form a thought. And so he'd use his great unpredictability to ravage their opponents synapses with the sensation of touch and tear their brains out through shear force of will.
But the brain remained un-teared-out, and instead of finding himself confusing his opponents with his unorthodox and almost religion-worthy attack style he found himself getting hit in the chest and forgetting how to blink.
Yet unlike it's normal behaviour, The Cereal Man was worrying. Sure his Cerealitualality would surely confirm his place among The Cereal Pantheon once his celestial essence transcended from his carbon brain, but all these losses where causing displeasure to his mortal bones and hurting his feelings.
He had only received one win in his entire time at Action Wrestling. This was not good representation for the Cerealverse.
Not to mention his constant, extremely justified, random assaults and battery-s where making his position as a member of both Action Wrestling and free society in jeopardy.
He waddled onto one of the many empty bar stools and leans his face down.
Bartender: What do you want?
The Cereal Man: Cereal.
Bartender: We don't have that, here.
The Cereal Man slams his fists onto the table and lifts his head to the air.
The Cereal Man: Oh! Woe is me! How come even when my truest desires are in front of me my present position prevents me from undertaking them!
These Cerealless fools I am surrounded by need salvation but when faced with my Cereal Saviourness turn their back towards Cereal. DO THEY WANT TO DIE?!
The Bartender slowly raised an eyebrow as The Cereal Man who life-lessly slumped back down onto the table. The Bartender poured a glass of whiskey and handed it to The Cereal Man.
The Cereal Man looked up and smiled.
The Cereal Man: You... you would make a good mind slave... A righteous... mind slaveous....mind slave of ages. But you find yourself imprisoned by this horrific cage of employment and skin. And let my omniscience presume this, you do not want to be saved right?!
Bartender: Er... what're you talking about?-
The Cereal Man: I'M ANGSTING! Observe at how dang edgy I am! Optically inhale how I'm presenting my 'ness, how begrumbled my skin-top is!
I tell all the human racers that Cereal is new and edgy! Nobody believe! No believers! I LACK BELIEF! I LACK IT!
And now Havoc! The most Havoc of battles, is upon me. Seeking to take advantage of my temporary brain-worries.
STOP IT! STOP TAKING ADVANTAGE OF MY 'NESS, HAVOC!
The Cereal Man smashes the whiskey across his face and falls to the ground again.
Bartender: Well, you sound stressed. I really don't know what you're talking about but it sounds like you're stressed. Whenever I'm stressed I always try and find my happy place. That way I can relax and properly analyse my problem.
The Cereal Man: My happy place is in my Cereal-mension.
Bartender: Y-Yeah well, mine isn't in a different Cereal-mension for fucks sake! I always try and be the whole, stupid comfort bartender guy and every time I do it's always just some weird crazy, drunk guy saying he's from a dimension where everything is a certain food and that food is like great, or whatever.
Gets on my nerves a bit!
Just last week I met 'The Water Guy' who tried to force feed me water!
The Cereal Man: That guy's an asshole.
Bartender: I know, right?! Some people...
The Cereal Man: You and me both homie. If only there was some way to rub an eraser on their brains. Until eventually all their wants and desires slowly decompose until their minds crumble into a maelstrom of dust and nothingness, able to recomposed exactly as The Cereal Lord see fit. I think, therefore, I am Cereal.
Bartender: Yeah.. I was kinda thinking of like just, well like getting more of a backbone but that works too I gues-
The Cereal Man's face lights up and he raises it with sudden realisation written all over his glass scratched, bloody face.
The Cereal Man: By Cereal! Mind-Slave you're correct! There is a possibility to delete their conscious personality and mould them into an exact clone of myself. It's one of the first Cerealpells in the Cerealpellbook!
The Cereal Man placed the fruity pebbles onto the bar and reached into his pocket for a knife.
The Cereal Man: I can use astral projection to switch two brain's consciousnesses. In a ritual used by the cutlery of yesteryear to ensure the absorption of their respective continuum's into The Cereal Sea of Cereal where there are Cereal Fish and Cereal Whales and Cereal Birds that are in The Cereal Sea because their's Cereal Air in the Cereal Sea.
By accomplishing this indestructible task I will not be travelling their human body meats to the Cereal Realm but rather transporting the Cereal Realm meats to them.
And as their minds are ionized by The Cereal, I will reshape their carbon-ness into The Cereal Man. Until all in the entire omniverse is The Cereal Man! EVEN THE ROCKS ARE THE CEREAL MAN!
But in order for this cerealplot to enter existence and travel from the present to the past, first this mouth must insult my opponents for Havoc in a quick and witiful fashion.
Bartender: Why do you need to do that?
The Cereal Man: SHUT YOUR TONGUE CELLS!
Let me begin.
Kyle Kemp. Your attempts at implying you are better than me will fall into an underworld of non-Ceral/existence because you are not.
Anton Chase, I will chase you off of a bridge. Into a fire.
Kaine, Your star-ation-ness in the show 'Flash' will soon be ironic as I cerealestroy all memory of your existence so even the slightest evidence of you being will be a flash even to a really smart elephant.
L Verez, If you're on the world you're part of the world. Your nickname does not make sense.
Wade Moor, I will pour salt on the sea so it tastes worse. Then I will eat Cereal to existensially cripple you.
Corey Bull, Take a Chill Cereal Pill. You're scaring my second brain.
Petrov, Your name sounds like petrol which is a dumb gas. Plus I cerealised the Soviet Union and then ate it into my dimension, so ha.
Bonnie Blue, Time is a concept and when I Cerealise you into a paradise of Cereal where all desires comes true no concepts outrank the concept of Cereal being all and all being Cereal.
Shadowlove and Miss Miyamoto, you two should have Cereal as both your polygamous significant other because Cereal's good.
Alex Haden, I've cerealised you literally every week. You're name is pronounced with a 'y' but there is no 'y' in your name. In Cereal land all names make sense. Join us.
Archbishop of Banterbury, When cerealised your accent will not exist any more. Enjoy your last few days with your British accent because I will Cerealise it.
Max Masked, You're not that bad actually. If I have to Cerealelete someone's personality it won't be yours.
Roy Speede, I hope your speed off of a cliff into a fire that Antom's in and then say 'what is this a crossover episode?' Because that's funny and humour gives me a second long break from my dark, terrifying, Cereal-Less present existence.
Alex Richards, Two first names. What else can I say?
Hajeet, I will Cerealise your kingdom and then you so that you may be a cereal king of a cerealdom, you're welcome.
Donald 'D-Day' Deruty, I cerealy projected myself to when WW2 started and watched D-Day happen. It sucked. Very sad. Therefore you suck.
Spencer Adams, again with the two first names.
And finally.
Psico; Who isn't even I the match BUT HE SPELLS HIS NAME WITH AN I AND- AND- NO! THAT'S- NO! YOU DON'T SPELL IT LIKE THAT! WOW!
The Cereal Man breathes for the first time in about 3 minutes and slams his fists onto the bar corner.
The Cereal Man holds the knife over the Cereal Box and smiles.
The Cereal Man: Extravate your eyes, Mind Slave-san. You about to witness salvation.
Bartender: 'Kay.
The Cereal Man holds onto the knife. He begins to tremble and struggles to stab the box.
The Cereal Man: Any... second now....
He can't bring himself to do it. He can't stab fruity pebbles. It's all he has. It's all he's had for 4008 years now! How can any being of any matter even think of doing this?!
But The Cereal Man must! The Cereal Seals demand it! It'll make the Cerealverse go world wide!
But it mustn't!
But it must!
The Cereal Man starts to sweat and begins to tear up.
All the memories he's had. The romantic dinners with The Cereal. That time in Venice where he threw someone into the water and then force fed him Cereal. Beautiful memories.
The Cereal Man takes one last deep breath.
The Cereal Man: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGHHHH!
The Cereal Man throws the knife into the ceiling and breaks down crying.
Bartender: What the fuck-
The Cereal Man hugs the Cereal and falls to the floor.
The Cereal Man: I couldn't! This human body prevented me! I'm been infected with humanity! J COLE!
The Cereal Man was mortified. He had been trapped in his mortal body thay he had been ensnared by it's emotions and feelings without even realising it.
The Cereal Man: I think! Therefore I am not!
The Cereal Man slams his head against the floor and tears flow down his face.
Bartender: Wait.. so by not wanting to be human you're saying you want to become and actual box of Cereal.
The Cereal Man sniffs and replies, his voice muffled by the cold floor.
The Cereal Man: I believe so, yes.
Bartender: That's dumb.
The Cereal Man slowly raises his tear soaked, blood covered face and stares the man down.
The Cereal Man: I may not be a Cereal. And I may not be able to absorb all manners of existence into Cereal right now. But is that single handed making me into a deranged maniac? Yes. And I can absorb most compositions present in this omniverse. And although my dreams may be out of my Cerealeach right now, and everyone doesnt think Cereal's edgy, and everyone wants to get me into the 'ar' of 'rested', I still Cerealieve in Cereal.
And I'm dang sure I'm gonna cerally kill you right now.
Bartender: What? Wh- NO- NO! PLEASE NOT AGAIN-!
-0:12 AM-
The scene opens up at a dirty, run-down, almost empty bar. The bartender, a tough looking man in scruffy clothes cleans the glasses with a wipe despite knowing that most self-reapecting individuals, and a conceivable amount of those not in that group, would never come to a bar like this at this time of night.
The door creaks open and The Cereal Man slithers inside. Cereal box in hand. Judging by the way he clumsily stumbles towards the bartender he's most likely drunk.
The Cereal Man has a knack for entering situations where no man should be intoxicated like a barely conscious baboon. It was a strategy see. How could an opponent guess his strategy if he couldn't form a thought. And so he'd use his great unpredictability to ravage their opponents synapses with the sensation of touch and tear their brains out through shear force of will.
But the brain remained un-teared-out, and instead of finding himself confusing his opponents with his unorthodox and almost religion-worthy attack style he found himself getting hit in the chest and forgetting how to blink.
Yet unlike it's normal behaviour, The Cereal Man was worrying. Sure his Cerealitualality would surely confirm his place among The Cereal Pantheon once his celestial essence transcended from his carbon brain, but all these losses where causing displeasure to his mortal bones and hurting his feelings.
He had only received one win in his entire time at Action Wrestling. This was not good representation for the Cerealverse.
Not to mention his constant, extremely justified, random assaults and battery-s where making his position as a member of both Action Wrestling and free society in jeopardy.
He waddled onto one of the many empty bar stools and leans his face down.
Bartender: What do you want?
The Cereal Man: Cereal.
Bartender: We don't have that, here.
The Cereal Man slams his fists onto the table and lifts his head to the air.
The Cereal Man: Oh! Woe is me! How come even when my truest desires are in front of me my present position prevents me from undertaking them!
These Cerealless fools I am surrounded by need salvation but when faced with my Cereal Saviourness turn their back towards Cereal. DO THEY WANT TO DIE?!
The Bartender slowly raised an eyebrow as The Cereal Man who life-lessly slumped back down onto the table. The Bartender poured a glass of whiskey and handed it to The Cereal Man.
The Cereal Man looked up and smiled.
The Cereal Man: You... you would make a good mind slave... A righteous... mind slaveous....mind slave of ages. But you find yourself imprisoned by this horrific cage of employment and skin. And let my omniscience presume this, you do not want to be saved right?!
Bartender: Er... what're you talking about?-
The Cereal Man: I'M ANGSTING! Observe at how dang edgy I am! Optically inhale how I'm presenting my 'ness, how begrumbled my skin-top is!
I tell all the human racers that Cereal is new and edgy! Nobody believe! No believers! I LACK BELIEF! I LACK IT!
And now Havoc! The most Havoc of battles, is upon me. Seeking to take advantage of my temporary brain-worries.
STOP IT! STOP TAKING ADVANTAGE OF MY 'NESS, HAVOC!
The Cereal Man smashes the whiskey across his face and falls to the ground again.
Bartender: Well, you sound stressed. I really don't know what you're talking about but it sounds like you're stressed. Whenever I'm stressed I always try and find my happy place. That way I can relax and properly analyse my problem.
The Cereal Man: My happy place is in my Cereal-mension.
Bartender: Y-Yeah well, mine isn't in a different Cereal-mension for fucks sake! I always try and be the whole, stupid comfort bartender guy and every time I do it's always just some weird crazy, drunk guy saying he's from a dimension where everything is a certain food and that food is like great, or whatever.
Gets on my nerves a bit!
Just last week I met 'The Water Guy' who tried to force feed me water!
The Cereal Man: That guy's an asshole.
Bartender: I know, right?! Some people...
The Cereal Man: You and me both homie. If only there was some way to rub an eraser on their brains. Until eventually all their wants and desires slowly decompose until their minds crumble into a maelstrom of dust and nothingness, able to recomposed exactly as The Cereal Lord see fit. I think, therefore, I am Cereal.
Bartender: Yeah.. I was kinda thinking of like just, well like getting more of a backbone but that works too I gues-
The Cereal Man's face lights up and he raises it with sudden realisation written all over his glass scratched, bloody face.
The Cereal Man: By Cereal! Mind-Slave you're correct! There is a possibility to delete their conscious personality and mould them into an exact clone of myself. It's one of the first Cerealpells in the Cerealpellbook!
The Cereal Man placed the fruity pebbles onto the bar and reached into his pocket for a knife.
The Cereal Man: I can use astral projection to switch two brain's consciousnesses. In a ritual used by the cutlery of yesteryear to ensure the absorption of their respective continuum's into The Cereal Sea of Cereal where there are Cereal Fish and Cereal Whales and Cereal Birds that are in The Cereal Sea because their's Cereal Air in the Cereal Sea.
By accomplishing this indestructible task I will not be travelling their human body meats to the Cereal Realm but rather transporting the Cereal Realm meats to them.
And as their minds are ionized by The Cereal, I will reshape their carbon-ness into The Cereal Man. Until all in the entire omniverse is The Cereal Man! EVEN THE ROCKS ARE THE CEREAL MAN!
But in order for this cerealplot to enter existence and travel from the present to the past, first this mouth must insult my opponents for Havoc in a quick and witiful fashion.
Bartender: Why do you need to do that?
The Cereal Man: SHUT YOUR TONGUE CELLS!
Let me begin.
Kyle Kemp. Your attempts at implying you are better than me will fall into an underworld of non-Ceral/existence because you are not.
Anton Chase, I will chase you off of a bridge. Into a fire.
Kaine, Your star-ation-ness in the show 'Flash' will soon be ironic as I cerealestroy all memory of your existence so even the slightest evidence of you being will be a flash even to a really smart elephant.
L Verez, If you're on the world you're part of the world. Your nickname does not make sense.
Wade Moor, I will pour salt on the sea so it tastes worse. Then I will eat Cereal to existensially cripple you.
Corey Bull, Take a Chill Cereal Pill. You're scaring my second brain.
Petrov, Your name sounds like petrol which is a dumb gas. Plus I cerealised the Soviet Union and then ate it into my dimension, so ha.
Bonnie Blue, Time is a concept and when I Cerealise you into a paradise of Cereal where all desires comes true no concepts outrank the concept of Cereal being all and all being Cereal.
Shadowlove and Miss Miyamoto, you two should have Cereal as both your polygamous significant other because Cereal's good.
Alex Haden, I've cerealised you literally every week. You're name is pronounced with a 'y' but there is no 'y' in your name. In Cereal land all names make sense. Join us.
Archbishop of Banterbury, When cerealised your accent will not exist any more. Enjoy your last few days with your British accent because I will Cerealise it.
Max Masked, You're not that bad actually. If I have to Cerealelete someone's personality it won't be yours.
Roy Speede, I hope your speed off of a cliff into a fire that Antom's in and then say 'what is this a crossover episode?' Because that's funny and humour gives me a second long break from my dark, terrifying, Cereal-Less present existence.
Alex Richards, Two first names. What else can I say?
Hajeet, I will Cerealise your kingdom and then you so that you may be a cereal king of a cerealdom, you're welcome.
Donald 'D-Day' Deruty, I cerealy projected myself to when WW2 started and watched D-Day happen. It sucked. Very sad. Therefore you suck.
Spencer Adams, again with the two first names.
And finally.
Psico; Who isn't even I the match BUT HE SPELLS HIS NAME WITH AN I AND- AND- NO! THAT'S- NO! YOU DON'T SPELL IT LIKE THAT! WOW!
The Cereal Man breathes for the first time in about 3 minutes and slams his fists onto the bar corner.
The Cereal Man holds the knife over the Cereal Box and smiles.
The Cereal Man: Extravate your eyes, Mind Slave-san. You about to witness salvation.
Bartender: 'Kay.
The Cereal Man holds onto the knife. He begins to tremble and struggles to stab the box.
The Cereal Man: Any... second now....
He can't bring himself to do it. He can't stab fruity pebbles. It's all he has. It's all he's had for 4008 years now! How can any being of any matter even think of doing this?!
But The Cereal Man must! The Cereal Seals demand it! It'll make the Cerealverse go world wide!
But it mustn't!
But it must!
The Cereal Man starts to sweat and begins to tear up.
All the memories he's had. The romantic dinners with The Cereal. That time in Venice where he threw someone into the water and then force fed him Cereal. Beautiful memories.
The Cereal Man takes one last deep breath.
The Cereal Man: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGHHHH!
The Cereal Man throws the knife into the ceiling and breaks down crying.
Bartender: What the fuck-
The Cereal Man hugs the Cereal and falls to the floor.
The Cereal Man: I couldn't! This human body prevented me! I'm been infected with humanity! J COLE!
The Cereal Man was mortified. He had been trapped in his mortal body thay he had been ensnared by it's emotions and feelings without even realising it.
The Cereal Man: I think! Therefore I am not!
The Cereal Man slams his head against the floor and tears flow down his face.
Bartender: Wait.. so by not wanting to be human you're saying you want to become and actual box of Cereal.
The Cereal Man sniffs and replies, his voice muffled by the cold floor.
The Cereal Man: I believe so, yes.
Bartender: That's dumb.
The Cereal Man slowly raises his tear soaked, blood covered face and stares the man down.
The Cereal Man: I may not be a Cereal. And I may not be able to absorb all manners of existence into Cereal right now. But is that single handed making me into a deranged maniac? Yes. And I can absorb most compositions present in this omniverse. And although my dreams may be out of my Cerealeach right now, and everyone doesnt think Cereal's edgy, and everyone wants to get me into the 'ar' of 'rested', I still Cerealieve in Cereal.
And I'm dang sure I'm gonna cerally kill you right now.
Bartender: What? Wh- NO- NO! PLEASE NOT AGAIN-!