Past Teacups

As I’ve said countless times, people are fragile like teacups. Nobody seems to listen to me, though. And these teacup people keep shattering all around me. Sure, usually it’s me doing the shattering, but still, the point is valid.

How am I so wise? People often ask me that. “Gee, Noah,” Peter said just the other day, “You sure are good at so much. You must have a great backstory.”

I shot him a mysterious look and said mysteriously, “Of course.”

He sat down Indian style on the floor and smiled up at me.

“Umm, what are you doing?” I asked.

“Waiting for the story,” he replied up at me. “It’s story time right?”

“No,” I answered. “Now get up and help me catch this speedster.”

“Oh,” he sighed, “it’s just that it sounded like it was going to be story time.”

I had hoped story time would never come. But like Kristie Alley’s 18th jelly donut following seven bowls of Lucky Charms each morning for breakfast, it was inevitable.

Story time finally did come, thanks to some replicating jerk. Had I known he would start firing shots into the carnival, I would have shot Samuel right in the head. I never like passing up an opportunity to fire a gun. So, naturally I wasn’t pleased when Claire forced me into negotiations with the carny, allowing him to surrender.

Unfortunately, I didn’t get to snipe anyone, and was instead captured by the freakish lot of miscreants.

Ooh, cotton candy!

I was held prisoner in the hall of mirrors as one of them made my backstory unfold on its reflective surfaces. It told the tale of a relationship prior to Sandra….


She was the love of my life.


And the mother of my son. But things were complicated….


Because there was also Luke.


But my old man didn’t want his son being “happy”.

And then, and this is where it gets really confusing (I don’t even know for sure how it went down), at my sister’s wedding Luke got shot in the head!


And he died in my arms.

It was tragic, but I moved on. I found a new girl, but that was soon brought to an end too. She was murdered by the pizza delivery man.


Clearly, love was not meant for me. People die too easily, and so I found a better companion. My pistol. We’ve been together ever since.

2 Comments

  1. That explains a lot actually.

  2. Chinese delivery, not pizza delivery! xDDD

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